"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies. "

'She Walks in Beauty' by Lord Byron

The bleeding fields of Naboo the natives had once called them. Anakin had laughed at it back then. They were just flowers, and when the Millaflower bloomed and shed its petals it had indeed looked like the crumbling flower was bleeding. The entire plain was filled with them, red petals blowing away with the soft winds leaving streaks of red flurrying across the sky.

They had been her favorite. He had brought her a bouquet once, during the dinner where they had adamantly decided to stay apart. He knew he was fucked right then and there, no matter how hard he had tried to stay away he couldn't. Life without her was no life at all. To be that close to her and not have her? He couldn't stand it.

Anakin's love for Padmé had driven her to her death, and then, after, he had died too. The last human part of him had died with her-
Or so he thought.

Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith, awoke with a pained groan. It had taken years to get used to the suit and the bacta tank. It had taken even longer to grow used to the breathing and the mechanical voice that was no longer his. Anakin Skywalker was dead, and he was glad of it. Anakin was resting with Padmé, as it should be. It was always meant to be the two of them, and now they were together. He found a small piece of comfort in that when the pain came.

The mask breathed for him, that was true enough, but it did not take the pain, it simply kept him alive, and functional enough to bark orders and walk somewhat painlessly. The nightmares still came. It had been the same dream for years now. He felt Anakin claw his way through him every time he tried to sleep.

"Where is Padmé? Is she alright?" His voice faltered when he looked at his Master, and something in his chest broke when he noticed the remnant of a smile. An arrogant and hopeful yet malevolent smile.
"Is she safe?"
"It seems, in your anger, you killed her-"
Darth Vader screamed. He still heard Anakin's voice in his head and he felt the tears run down his scarred cheeks. The last piece of him had died and he could no longer feel her. He kept screaming as he looked upon her in her sarcophagus.
He tried to speak to her but the words wouldn't come, only when he placed his forehead to the white stone did she appear. She would be gone when he turned around, he knew that much. So this time he stayed where he was.
"Why did you kill me, Ani?" she asked, and he could hear the deep sorrow in her voice, it felt like all his wounds were being ripped open again. "Why did you kill our children?" Padmé screamed until she cried, Vader felt himself reach for her, and the moment he did she turned to ash in his hands.

He had given up. The medical droid still couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. The mask had begun to fail him, the tiny wires embedded in the helmet kept crackling and burning his already marred face. He welcomed the pain. He would do anything to kill the feeling of Anakin clawing at him from the inside.
"I am so sorry, my Lord, I do not know how to fix it!" The alarmed robotic voice spoke from somewhere behind him.
"No matter, my Master will see to it!" he snapped and stood from the bench he was sitting on.
"Is there anything else you require of me, My Lord?" the droid kept its mechanical eye to the floor, it was not as much a sign of respect as it was a sign of fear, and Vader reveled in it.

"Bring me an archive droid. Tell no one."
"At once, Lord Vader."

He was pacing when the droid finally appeared. He looked at the spindly thing and spoke. The droid whirred softly as it went through the database.
As he had thought...
"Padmé was laid to rest on Coruscant, my Lord. It seems that Senator Organa paid for her funeral in full, her mausoleum is guarded day and night, yet-"
"What?" he was already growing tired of the monotonous voice and he was losing his patience. The anger kept him alive and it made him dangerous.
"There are no records of her ever being placed there, it just states that that is where she rests, my Lord!" the words tumbled out of the droid, it was fearing for its life. Thankfully, archive droids were needed, and it was in no immediate danger. Yet.

Darth Vader made no reply but simply gestured for the droid to leave him.
Empty mausoleum. It made sense to him. His wife would never accept being buried on Coruscant, not when her heart remained with the Naboo. Vader walked out of the room, hitting a fist against the faulty panel on his chest. Breathe. Breathe.

His entire legion asked no questions, they said nothing as he commanded them to change the course of the entire galactic fleet. They wouldn't dare. Not now.
They just bowed their heads and did as commanded. Vader himself took control of the ship when they neared the mid rim.
A few more hours, he could manage that. Just a few more hours-

"Lord Vader, we are approaching rapidly-"
"I will go myself, stay with the fleet!"

Darth Vader kept his breathing as even as possible even with the faulty mask, he would kill to feel the winds on his face again, but he knew it was useless. He would die the moment the mask came off, and even then, he was sure some hellish netherworld was waiting for him, he would never know peace again.

He had been so naive, of course she would be buried here. Naboo was her home, it would have been their home. He had already walked for what seemed like hours, and the mask was failing more than ever, his ragged mechanical breathing was so weak he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep this up.

He strode across the fields heading for the herd of Shaaks. He could tell he unnerved them, the giant beasts ran past him in wailing panic as he finally scaled the last hill. There, hidden amongst the trees...
Her mausoleum was white marble, shining in the sun. It had no doors, only open walls and a roof to keep the rain away. The stained glass window behind the sarcophagus sent shimmers of purple, yellow and blue light cascading over the pale marble.

He walked faster, kept his head down and tried to force the mask to function properly. He needed to see her, if this was how he died, he needed to see her first. One last time. He felt a flicker in his chest and groaned. He swore he was dead. Anakin. Yet, he could feel him clawing away from the inside of his mind, desperate to get out, desperate to see her and free himself.

His boots crunched over the last remnants of blooming Millaflowers. He paused just long enough to pick a few of the bleeding monstrosities. Vader hated them. He hated the red fucking petals, he hated how they reminded him of his burning skin and the-

"You were meant to destroy the Sith, not join them!" Obi - Wan's words had hurt him deeply. Everything hurt, the fire burned away at him, the roaring sound of the lava terrified him. As the smell of his own burning flesh clouded his mind, the look in Obi - Wan's eyes only darkened. And as his old friend and Master left Anakin Skywalker to die in the flaming, burning pits of Mustafar, Darth Vader swore revenge, he swore to kill him, to avenge the wailing Jedi inside. Hate had damned him, and hate would keep him alive. The hate was the only thing that kept his mind together when he found himself back on Mustafar, screaming for help as he slowly burned to death.

Still, there was no hate to be found when he finally reached the final resting place of Padmé Amidala, beloved former Queen of the Naboo and the mother of his child.
The statue of white marble placed on top of the sarcophagus made him stop. It looked like her, as much as white marble can look like a human being. Who ever made it had taken great care, her cheeks were full, eyes closed peacefully and her hands-

Still clasped around the lucky-charm he had made her decades ago. She must have held it as she died, he realized. She must have held on to it as he killed her. As he forced the life from her, desperate to make her understand that he would not give up. Padmé had held on to the only piece she had left of him as he had-

He grunted in pain.

Darth Vader could feel him inside. Anakin. Mourning and begging him to move closer to her. He tried to keep him quiet, he tried to make him stay inside. He tried to kill off the weak fucking Jedi that made him do this.

"My love," his voice was marred with Anakin's sadness when he spoke and the sheer anger it brought from deep inside him made him scared. He had lost control before, strangled several commanders to death and then their admirals; if he lost control here, he'd never recover. Anakin would win.

He walked over to the vase placed at the foot of her resting place and took the wilted flowers placed there and swapped them with the bleeding red ones. As he placed a hand on the marble, red streaks were left where his fingers had touched her.

Something awoke in him so violently he wheezed. The same feeling he had had in his chest before came back, and Anakin Skywalker roared. Anakin Skywalker lifted his head and screamed to the skies.

He looked at the cold marble pretending to be his wife and almost wept. The darkness in him fluttered away for a single moment. Only her, and only him. Laying in the grassy fields on a summer day so long ago. Her fingers curled around his, and deep brown eyes shining with the love he knew she carried for him.

Darth Vader fought against him as Anakin knelt down and placed his forehead against his wife's clasped hands.
"Please, forgive me, my love."

The flicker. The almost unnoticeable flicker. Anakin raised his head and met the shimmering, soft light with an eerie sense of foreboding. If he turned, she would be gone. The grassy plain rustled behind him and the overwhelming smell of her hit him so hard he had to place a hand on the marble to keep from falling. Red streaks now ran down her marbled cheeks and he cursed himself.

"Why did you leave me, Ani?"
She was here. The light flickered, then it grew stronger. He wanted to turn around. Anakin wept.
"I didn't leave you, my love. You left me, and you died." It was the truth. He had told her once before, he would never betray the Senate, he would never betray Palpatine, and he hadn't. And yet, his Master had not shown him how to save Padmé's life. His Master had cackled as Darth Vader screamed. Knowing that Anakin Skywalker was dead.
"Anakin, look at me."

He did no such thing. He knew how this would all play out. He would turn. And he would find her there, in the open doorway. She would be pale, gaunt and dying. Her once lively brown eyes would be dull and she would whisper to him that he killed her, then she would disappear, and he feared he would never see her again.

Anakin closed his eyes. This was how it ended.

"Anakin?"
It was not his name. Not anymore. Anakin had died on Mustafar, perhaps even earlier, perhaps Anakin died in the Jedi Temple. Anakin died with the younglings.
"That's not who I am!" Vader's mechanical voice grew in intensity as he finally turned around. He needed to see, he needed to see her-

She was no ghost, and he knew he was dreaming. Padmé Amidala looked at him with the eyes of a child. The girl that had found him on Tatooine, the girl he had sworn he would marry. She just stood there, in the light.

Padmé smiled at him. A true smile. The one she only showed him, the smile that made her eyes almost close and her face light up, the smile she had shown him in the fields by the lake.

And as she walked... Vader could feel him. He could feel Anakin desperately screaming to let him out.
Queen Amidala walked to him now, with her arms extended, reaching for him.

Vader averted his eyes. He didn't dare look at her. He'd failed her. She'd died because of him. Because of his hunger for power and loss of will. Because of his weakness.

"Anakin?" Padmé was closer to him now. He felt the gossamer dress swish close to his face. Vader sank to the floor.

"Anakin, we can't do this. Not here," Padmé begged him. He kept his hands around her waist as her breathing quickened. He felt her, shivering against him and begging him to touch her.
"Yes, here." He said and chuckled a little at his own helplessness. It was the happiest moment of his life. He would never be the same. She had single handedly raised him from damnation with one look. With one sentence.

Padmé shivered beneath him. Her hands clawed at his back begging him to move faster. He did no such thing. He just looked, dragging his eyes over her as her cheeks began to turn from ivory, to a pale pink, to bright red as he moved.
"Ani-" her hands scrambled. Her fingers tugged on his hair and Anakin grabbed her hips.
"Look at you, my love," he whispered and moved a hand behind her neck. He eased her off the silks and made her look. "Do you see what you do to me, do you see how good you are," he moaned now. Desperate to just undo her the way she had undone him years ago.

Padmé closed her eyes and the sounds of them mingled in the cold air from the open windows.

He found himself extending a hand again. A glove-less hand. No suit. No burnt flesh, only pale skin, as though he had spent too much time in the shadows.
"There you are," Padmé said and took his hand, gently dragging a finger over his palm "See? I knew you were still in there. There is still good in you," Padmé placed a slender hand on his cheek. He felt her touch and almost lost himself completely.
"I died with you," he admitted and didn't dare look her in the eyes as he said it.

Her hand drifted over his cheekbones. Her skin was soft against his, and the wispy feeling of his hair falling into his face made him shiver. He finally dragged his eyes away from his marbled wife and tried not to wince.

Anakin held on to her shoulders as her moans filled his head. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kept him close. Her skin was damp with sweat as she looked at him and stilled.
"Remember this. Anakin. This is real. Remember."

"No, my love. You didn't, you just forgot that you still have children to live for. They need you, Anakin."
"Children?" he knew about a son, but he did not know about more than one? Was she lying?
"Twins." Padmé said and smiled. He had loved her smile. It made the skin around her eyes crinkle.
"Tell me!" The voice was harsher than he intended and he feared he had scared her again. Padmé only sat down in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Luke is ten years old now, I watch over him sometimes. He likes to build droids and play with his little toy planes. His biggest dream is to become a star pilot I think, like his father."
"He knows?" Anakin's heart jumped. If his son knew, if Luke knew who he was-
"I think he does, but not what it means. I think he senses that something is different about him, the Force chooses, Anakin, and I think he is destined for greatness. He is so clever, my love. I wish you could have seen him."

Anakin sighed. The feeling of her skin on his made him uneasy. Regretful.
"And Leia..."
"Leia?"
"She takes after you, you would love her. She has already yelled at more people than she should, and luck be with those she decides she doesn't like. She has your temper."

Anakin felt pride rise in his chest. A fist closed around his heart. Vader. He would overtake him again. Forever this time. Padmé looked at him, she gently placed a hand around his neck, moved closer to him and kissed him. Anakin stilled completely. He did nothing as his wife's lips ghosted over his.
"I can't fight him. I'm not strong enough," Anakin's voice grew more mechanical as he spoke and Padmé's face grew paler as she pulled away from him. When she spoke her face reverted back to gaunt, pale and dying. Vader was killing her again.
"Yes, you can. You will," she was adamant. She removed her hands from him and he grew cold. Empty. Desperate.

Padmé Amidala opened her closed fist. His old charm fell into his waiting palm. Vader closed his own fist around it and groaned. When he got up from the floor she was gone.
"No," Vader wheezed. The mask failed him again. Sending sparks of flame over his face.
"No!" He tried to pry it off. To join her. To find peace.
"Yes!" The voice was Anakin's. The mask continued to supply him with air as Anakin Skywalker rose from the floor. Vader disappeared. His mind grew clearer and memories of Padmé flashed before his eyes. For her. He would do it for her. He had died for her, wrecked himself for her and perished for her.

Anakin Skywalker walked out of the mausoleum. He had things to do. He had a purpose and a mission. He needed to find his son.
He had been hiding. He knew that much. And there was only one place he would never return to. There was only one place he could be. Obi-Wan. Clever Obi-Wan. No more.

"Admiral!" Anakin's voice was coated in Vader's as he yelled for the admiral.
"Yes, my lord?" The admiral grew fearful as Anakin closed his fist. If they fucking denied him-
"Plot a new course. Now!"
"Where to my lord?"
"Tatooine."

The ship steadily followed the plotted course. Anakin smiled. The emotion made him hurt. His stiff skin cracked under the pressure. He didn't care. He hadn't been to Tatooine in 13 years. This was the last time. That sandblasted fucking planet. Obi - Wan. Death.

"Who are we searching for, my Lord?" Captain Needa asked as the send word for the drones.
"Owen Lars and his wife, Beru." Anakin said and kept his voice harsh.
"Can I ask why, my Lord?"
"The path to Skywalker lies with them," he said and turned from the controls.
"Skywalker, sir?"
"Anakin Skywalker's son is on Tatooine." Vader said and opened his fist, "My son."

Anakin Skywalker kept his silence. Deep inside him he felt her pride and her thankfulness.
"There is still good in you, Anakin Skywalker," she said, her voice coating his every thought. "Prove it."