A/N: There have been a lot of cliffhangers so far, so I'm going to do an extra update tomorrow!

Trigger warning: Attempted sexual assault! Skip all the way down to the line break if you want to avoid reading it!

Padme's body became frozen in place as she stared wide-eyed at Varlo Hedsard where he lingered in the doorway. How could this be happening? How could she have been so naive? Anakin had specifically warned her against separating herself from Dome and Typho! He had told her to leave this place and left a private transport outside for her and she had defied it all at the very first opportunity. All because her foolish heart had grasped on so desperately to the belief that he wanted to see her, that he had turned around and come back just for her.

"I thought I'd made myself clear," she curled her hands into tight fists by either side of her body and scoffed, "I'm not interested in spending any more time with you, Varlo."

He gave a petulant scoff and rolled his eyes as if the very thought of her opinion on the matter was irrelevant to him. A deep purple bruise had already begun to bloom across his pale face from her earlier strike. Swelling bloated his left eye and the remnants of crusted blood painted his nostril in a vibrant, crimson ring.

Padme watched as he slid off his expensive suit jacket and draped it over the back of a green armchair in the corner. "Oh yes, I saw how eager you were to follow after his beloved highness. After I procured you how many drinks, exactly? Gave you my undivided attention for how long? But the second he showed an interest, off you went…" His handsome face twisted into a cold expression of furious envy. What had she been thinking earlier? This was no man, nor was he a handsome suitor – he was a cruel and immature child unable to accept rejection. "I will say, though, Prince Anakin is a lucky man… He must have you constantly. I mean, it's obvious how badly you want it. I've seen animals in heat less eager."

She flinched and hated the embarrassed warmth that flooded her cheeks. "It's not... Our relationship is strictly professional."

He barked a hateful laugh, "then, Senator, it would appear that you embarrass yourself." Slowly, Varlo began undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. His chest began to come into view as button after button popped free beneath his long, slender fingers. "Let me tell you something about men since it seems your knowledge on the matter appears to be limited at best. We don't enjoy it when pining girls linger around us all day, panting and desperate to bend over and take it, no," he tutted with a soft shake of his head, "Where's your dignity?" The final button popped open. His frigid blue eyes were bleak as they studied Padme boredly. "There's no challenge in having someone so eager – and that's what men truly want, the hunt, the sport of making her give in. Although, I will say, taking a woman who doesn't want it?" The Senator's nephew licked his lips slowly, savouring whatever horrific imagining was playing through his mind. "Now, that's pleasure."

"There's something wrong with you." Padme bared her teeth as she shook her head angrily, "Only someone sick and twisted would think such things. I hope all the women coming out against you are given the chance to watch you rot in prison, Varlo."

"Ah, there is it…" He smirked, "there's that infamous, righteous fire of yours… I've heard many of my uncle's colleagues whinging about it in the past and I must say, I've been intrigued about you for some time." He tossed the opened shirt to the floor and stood half-naked before her proudly. "You weren't difficult to charm at all, actually quite the opposite. My uncle said you were a desperate spinster and after tonight, I'm inclined to believe him. Now... we can do this the easy way or the hard way… but whatever you choose, know that I always get what I want in the end."

Disgust coiled in her belly and formed on her face as a biting glare. "No," Padme growled. No one in the galaxy could ever make her do anything she wasn't willing to do. Especially not someone like him. "Do you really think you'd get away with this? I have staff and security in the ballroom waiting for me. They'll come looking if I'm gone for too long."

"So, the hard way then?" Her indignation seemed to please him, "Good. I want you to fight me for it. It'll make it so much better to see you cry beneath me knowing you gave it your best shot and it wasn't enough."

"I don't understand," she shook her head again, "why are you doing this? There must be more to this than your sick sense of thrill."

Keep him talking, distract him and get out. After that, she only had to find Typho and he would take care of everything. She could do this! Padme had faced worse enemies than a spoiled brat before!

"No one tells me no," Varlo spat viciously. "I get what I want when I want it. Now, take off that dress and get on the bed."

Padme's glare felt ferocious in intensity. Never in all her twenty-eight years of life had she truly desired to hurt someone before. She was peaceful by nature but this vile scum tested every moral she had ever lived by. Her hands trembled beneath the sudden gasping rage that filled her body and tainted her thoughts. Slowly, the Senator's vision began to bleed red. She would get out of here by any means necessary even if that meant striking first which had always been so very against her own personal principles.

As Varlo stalked closer, the ice of his gaze trailed the length of her body, a momentary distraction, and Padme lunged before he could brace himself. Using her uninjured fist, she struck a perfectly aimed blow against his jaw that would have made any of her handmaidens whoop in pride. The impact of it was brutal and a throbbing pain exploded inside of her hand. Cursing under her breath, she tried to ignore the hurt as Varlo stumbled backwards with a sharp cry, falling against the desk so clumsily that objects went clattering to the floor.

Without pausing, the Senator rushed for the door's receiver pad, ready to slam down upon its opening button and get out of here before Varlo recovered from her second punch of the evening. All she had to do was reach the elevator and she would be fine! It would be all too easy to find Dorme and Typho and alert the proper authorities about what had happened so that –

Ah!

Appearing from nowhere, Varlo recovered faster than she had anticipated. Suddenly, his broad fist collided with her stomach, sending Padme to her knees with a startled cry of pain. All the air in her body fled at once, leaving her gasping through the overwhelming blow. She grunted as the Hedsard heir hauled her back to her feet and threw her brutally against the desk. Her body landed stomach first, furthering the agony still burning from his vicious attack. She scrambled to recover faster than her body was able to, reaching for something, anything for purchase while her mind whirled desperately to catch up. After just a moment, her hand sent a datapad to the floor with a telling crack, revealing a pile of pristine flimsi and a long, thin, decorative silver blade mounted carefully for display. Yes!

"You stupid, bitch," Varlo spat, "Just lie down and take it!" He grabbed a fistful of Padme's hair and slammed her head down onto the hard wood of the desk. Her vision blurred and swam as pain exploded through her skull.

He kicked her ankles apart and the sudden shifting of her weight almost sent her body collapsing to the floor. A moment later, she felt the teeth of the subtle zipper along her back tear apart. Padme squeezed her eyes shut, disgust coiling in her stomach as it crawled lower and lower, her dress becoming looser and looser as it revealed her back inch by inch. He was cruelty incarnate. Her misery thrilled him.

"Mmm…" Varlo trailed his cold fingers over Padme's newly exposed flesh, "Your skin is so beautiful, Senator. You're as pale as moonlight…"

Wait… what was she doing? Even hurt and afraid, she was still Padme Amidala Naberrie! No one took advantage of her regardless of the situation! She was strong and she couldn't, no she wouldn't stand for this. The Senator strained her eyes looking for something, anything she could use just as the vile heat of Varlo's mouth came over the nape of her neck sending vomit burning in the back of her throat. Focus, Padme chided herself, just focus! Beside the mounted blade which had shifted just beyond her limited reach rested a marble bust of a man, likely one of the previous generations of Hedsards. Closing her hand around its thick base, its weight shifted as she pulled it more firmly into her trembling grasp.

As Varlo's tongue brushed over her pulse, Padme lifted the heavy statue and swung.


How was he supposed to capture the extent of his regret into words? What phrasing would possibly make her understand how sorry he was and how deeply he wished tonight had gone differently. How he wished he'd asked her to dance all along. Anakin wasn't sure there were the right words to wholly explain everything whilst apologising for ruining her night and being a jealous bantha ass.

Countless versions of apologies flew through the Prince's head as he walked back inside the crowded ballroom of the Hedsard estate to find Padme. The sooner he apologised, the sooner the absolute defeat in those alluring eyes of hers would stop haunting him. Anakin knew shame and guilt intimately, they had been loyal and constant companions his whole life, but having them come directly from hurting her? Unbearable. He couldn't stand another moment of it. He scanned the crowd of expensive gowns and suits and huffed impatiently, not recognising anyone. The three of them could be anywhere in this giant house.

Anakin paused as he heard the beginnings of the final dance of the evening begin to warm up from the musicians' instruments, the Vaule. He released a long, resigned sigh and looked out onto the dancefloor. Everything was wrapping up. She was probably out there with the Captain of her security forces or Dorme trying to piece together something of a fun time after he'd stomped all over her before.

"Hey!" The sound of Padme's handmaiden's voice turned the Prince around. The dark-haired Senator's look-alike waved Anakin over to the small table she and the Captain had taken refuge by. "Your highness! Over here!" When he approached the little table, Anakin's stomach sank to find no sign of the Senator at all. Padme wasn't here. Unless she had found a new partner and was out there enjoying herself. He craned his neck but couldn't catch a glimpse of her or her sky-blue dress out there.

"Highness," The Captain gave a respectful bow of his neck, "Did the Senator not accompany you back down here?"

A sweep of ice-cold numbness came over Anakin's body. Everything in the room seemed to slow down around him as he turned back to look first at the wide-eyed handmaiden and then Padme's security Captain in disbelief. What the hell was he talking about? Why would Padme be with him? He had left – they'd watched him walk out of the estate with Sabe and Vader! More importantly, why weren't they aware of exactly where their Senator was? "Why would she be with me? I only just came back."

Dorme's big dark eyes widened frantically as she shook her head. "But that's… You said you wanted to talk to her alone! The droid came down… it said… it said that you…" Realisation and horror began to spread over both their faces as the pair exchanged a horrified glance.

"I - I offered to accompany her," the Captain stammered, "but the Senator said she was happy to meet with you alone… A protocol droid invited her. Are you saying you didn't send it?"

"No," Anakin shook his head as he hissed, "I didn't send it."

"Oh, Gods no!" The handmaiden slapped her palm over her mouth, "We let her go off all on her own, Typho… What were we thinking?"

"What were we to think?" The Captain, Typho, apparently, said as he leapt to his feet. "There was no reason to suspect something was wrong about the droid. Anyone would have done the same."

I wouldn't have, Anakin wanted to snap. He would never have been so force-damned stupid as to let his mistress go off alone in a pit of serpents when they knew there was a maniac running around with a bruised face and wounded ego, but the Prince held his tongue, though it was difficult, and breathed through the thick cloud of red anger until it cleared enough to let him think. Dorme and Typho were Padme's friends and closest attendants, they felt about her how he felt about Vader or Sabe. They would never wish to see her harmed in any way, though try as he might, the blistering rage inside him would not dissipate fully. The more Anakin thought about it, the more powerful it grew.

It was the oldest trick in the book and they'd fallen for it. If Padme was somewhere in this building being hurt right now... if that monster had done something to her… I'm going to kill him, the Prince swore to the force itself, I'll make him wish he'd never been born!

Death wasn't something Anakin cherished, unlike his father, but under the right circumstances, he could deliver it as easily as breathing. It was the piece of him which had been born within the dark side of the force, the part his father had worked tirelessly for years to nourish and expand into greatness, only he'd lacked the true capacity for it. Vader, however, was a different story. It was why Vader was their father's favourite, the one true heir who Anakin could never live up to.

And that had been fine with him, he'd been all too happy to relinquish the darkness his father instilled within him… until tonight. It festered inside his chest, heating his blood as it awoke, waiting to welcome him into its black grip once more. Tonight, if need be, he would accept and embrace the taint of its touch. Slowly, every morsel of hate and fury he felt came alive within him, poisoning his heart.

Anakin turned to Dorme and Typho where they stood, a mess of panic and frantic whispers as they tried to devise a plan while the Captain commed the other security in Padme's detail. He felt the cold begin to spread through his veins, the calm the dark side granted his mind was freeing. The hatred felt like home. "Know this," they both met his eyes, "if something happens to Padme tonight, I'll make sure you never forget it." He muttered.

Dorme seemed to deflate before his very eyes. Her shoulders slumped as the handmaiden began to whimper, barely holding back tears from the guilt Anakin cruelly thrust upon her. The Prince watched her for a moment and then closed his eyes, the utterly dejected heartache he sensed from the woman sent the icy darkness within him reeling backwards once more.

Could he really be so cruel?

"No," he shook his head with a sigh, lifting his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Dorme's teary eyes looked up into Anakin's cold gaze wearily, "No, it's not your fault, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said that, I apologise. I'm just worried. Whatever happens here, it's no one's fault but the Hedsards."

Truthfully, Anakin didn't quite believe that. If Padme suffered tonight, her pain was firmly on his conscience alone, no one else's. He was the one who'd left without making sure she followed. He should have made sure she got into that damn transport before climbing into his own. If she got hurt because of him, it would kill his very soul.

Despite his apology, anger and darkness still boiled in his belly at the two of them. With a growl, the Prince decided that they didn't matter right now, he had to find Padme and get her somewhere safe before it was too late.

Please be alright… I'm coming for you…

"How long ago did she leave?" He asked. If it hadn't been too long, then there was still a chance of finding her before something happened. He just had to think fast and act faster. He could save her – no, he would save her.

"M- maybe around twenty minutes ago," Dorme answered quietly.

Twenty minutes? A lot could happen in twenty minutes… too much.

"Typho, gather up all members of Padme's detail and have them search through every room in the building. If anyone asks any questions, inform them that they have my full permission and nobody is to get in their way. Dorme, find my brother and fill him in on what's happened. And Sabe, our aide! She can get the authorities involved if need be." Commands flew from Anakin's mouth faster than he could remember he wasn't speaking to his men on the battlefield. It didn't matter anyway, if they wanted to stand a chance, Typho and Dorme had to do everything they were told. "Do whatever it takes to find her. If there's blame at the end of it, I'll shoulder it."

With a shared nod, the pair of them took off to fulfil their tasks. Anakin watched them shove their way through the crowds as Typho brought his comm to his lips once more, barking orders furiously at whatever other security they'd brought along for the evening. For once, Anakin knew exactly what he had to do, no obstacles, no what ifs or buts. Find Padme. Get her out of here. The words rang out like the echoing chime of a thundering bell in his head, sending the message through every vein and midichlorian in his body. It was all he knew as he took off in the opposite direction to start his own search, heading straight for the elevator shaft as lingering remnants of Padme's force signature sweetened the air.

Whatever was about to happen, Anakin would find her before it was too late no matter what it took.