Hello, and welcome to a new work of mine I've been working on for years: "The Weight of Silence". It is a Darth Vader and Padmé' Amidala alternate universe (AU). I hope you enjoy, and happy readings.
Story Introduction:
Once, Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker were inseparable—bound by love, hope, and the dream of a galaxy free from war. But that dream shattered the day Anakin fell, consumed by the Dark Side, and emerged as Darth Vader.
Now, Padmé lives in the quiet shadows of the Outer Rim, a ghost to the galaxy she once fought to protect. Vader, second to the Emperor, is a force of destruction feared across countless systems. Yet, in secret corners of the galaxy, their paths continue to cross—clandestine rendezvous shrouded in the weight of everything left unsaid.
They are leaders on opposite sides of an unending war—Padmé, a prominent figure within the Rebel Alliance, and Vader, the enforcer of the Empire. Their meetings are rare, complicated, and dangerous, driven by a connection that refuses to die.
But something has changed. Padmé carries a secret that threatens the fragile balance between them—another child. A life that shouldn't exist, but does.
As Padmé wrestles with the burden of truth and the fear of what Vader might become if he discovers it, their encounters grow more strained. The love they once knew flickers beneath the surface, entangled with betrayal, regret, and a longing neither can escape.
In a galaxy divided by war and haunted by ghosts of the past, their destinies remain entwined. But how long can they withstand the weight of silence between them?
Content Disclaimer:
The Weight of Silence explores complex themes of love, loss, and potential redemption set within the science fiction universe of Star Wars. This story touches on elements of psychological conflict, trauma, and emotional tension between characters, including depictions that may parallel unhealthy relationships or dynamics.
It's important to recognize that while this narrative delves into the idea of characters being influenced or "possessed" by the Dark Side—a fictional force within the Star Wars mythos—such forces do not exist in reality. In the real world, abusive relationships and domestic violence should never be justified, excused, or endured under the belief that someone can be "saved" or "healed" through love alone.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, help is available. Please know that support, safety, and healing are possible. Below are resources that can provide support and guidance:
United States:
National Domestic Violence Hotline ~ National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV) ~ StrongHearts Native Helpline ~ Trans Lifeline
Canada:
ShelterSafe ~ Ending Violence Association of Canada
United Kingdom:
National Domestic Abuse Helpline ~ Women's Aid UK ~ Men's Advice Line
Australia:
1800RESPECT ~ Lifeline Australia
New Zealand:
Women's Refuge
Global Resources:
UN Women (Domestic Violence Resources by Country) ~ Love is Respect (Youth-Focused, US and International) ~ International Directory of Domestic Violence Agencies
Resources Suggested by the Community:
LEMONS by Tay: A mental health platform created by Tay Lautner, offering blogs, tips, and resources for PTSD, substance abuse, and more. Includes The Squeeze podcast, which features guest speakers such as doctors, celebrities, and advocates discussing mental health topics.
If you have any resources—whether they're books, podcasts, free and accessible services, or anything else you've found helpful—feel free to share them in a review or private message! I'd love to add them to this section so that people from all over the world can benefit from the collective knowledge and support of this community.
Thank you so much to everyone who has contributed and shared resources so far. Your kindness and care mean the world, and you're making a difference.
This is a work of fiction, intended to explore the emotional, fantastical, and mythological aspects of a beloved universe. It does not seek to romanticize or endorse harmful relationship dynamics in real life.
Thank you for reading, and may this story resonate with you as a journey of resilience and reflection.
Ownership Disclaimer: I do not own, nor invent, Star Wars and make no money from this.
Chapter 1:
The wind whispered through the narrow streets of the outer rim outpost, coiling around Padmé's body as she slipped her way through the dimly lit corridors. She tightened the shawl around her shoulders. Her hood sat low over her face, shielding her features from the scattered figures who passed her by.
This far from the Core Worlds, no one asked questions—they didn't want any asked in return. She was just another anonymous traveler, not a prominent figure in the Rebel Alliance.
Bail had arranged this location; the room she entered was sparse—barely more than a table, a bed, and a small viewport overlooking the isolated streets below. But it was enough.
Enough to wait.
These meet-ups had grown more frequent—and far more intimate—in recent months. And then, he stopped. Darth Vader, the cold hand of the Galactic Empire. The cold, cruel second of the Emperor, if he even exists, as some whispered. And if he did exist, he was the Emperor's executioner—a dark phantom few lived to speak of. Or was he Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, the "Hero with no Fear" of the Old Republic?
Her husband?
She let out a heavy, bitter sigh. Padme no longer knew.
Whoever this masked man was, the inescapable pull between them remained undeniable. A cottonmouth thirst only they could sate for one another—a painfully missing piece that only fit in the other's presence. Force, it was like a substance—an addiction. A force of nature. Gravity. They collided over and over.
So fast. So powerfully. Padmé wasn't sure she'd survive it this time.
Yet, here she was, waiting on him.
Padmé let the hood slip from her hair, shaking loose the weight of the day's tension as she crossed to the window. Her hand drifted absently to her abdomen, brushing over the dense, loose, and hardy layers of fabric. She had scrutinized herself from every angle, choosing inconspicuous colors and fits with hard-earned wisdom. But even hiding her changing body, she could still feel it.
The faintest flutter nestled deep in her womb.
A presence.
Alive.
Padmé exhaled slowly, letting the weight of it settle over her.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Neither of them meant for it.
The twins' brutal, near-fatal birth left her barren, or so the healers said. And Vader—scarred, burned, and maimed beyond recognition—should have been incapable of fathering life.
But the Force—or some cruel will of the universe—had its own plans.
Her hand lingered over the soft curve of her stomach, invisible beneath the layers of loose fabric. At the right angles, with the right fashions, she could still hide it.
At least for now.
There was a heavy presence—one she'd come to know all too well.
Cold. Metallic. The rustle of his heavy cloak, the scratch of leather and armor rubbing together with each curt, weighted movement. The quiet clink of his lightsaber hilt against his thigh armor.
Padmé's heart clenched as she crossed the room, pausing just long enough to steady herself before unlatching the door. She craned her neck past its limit, trying to meet the gaze of the figure before her. Or at least where she assumed his eyes were—the black, gaunt mask concealed them entirely..
Those blue eyes had drawn her in all those years ago—eyes she once swam in so freely. But now she wondered if they had pulled her out with riptides, dragging her into the very storms they held. Dragged her into turbulent waters, drowning her when she thought she had swum in something warm and kind.
He stood on the other side, shadowed beneath his cloak. Only a dim red glow from his chest-implanted computer light accompanied him. The low hum of his mechanical breathing filled the space between them.
She stepped aside without a word.
Vader entered silently, his gaze sweeping over the room, sharp and calculating as always. He had shed the heavier plating, leaving only the lighter armor and the black protective layer beneath. Incognito robes draped over the scars that hid beneath.
They echoed Jedi robes—though they were streamlined and harsher.
Padmé watched him, uncertain whether to feel grateful or unsettled by his absence of full regalia. He was so much… smaller. Less imposing.
More like him, like Anakin.
The door shut behind him, sealing them in weighted silence.
"You're late,' she said, her voice quiet as she turned back to the window."
His steps were slow and deliberate as he approached.
"I was delayed."
Padmé's gaze flickered to his reflection in the glass, the faint glint of his mask cold and distant in the pale light.
"You're always delayed."
His head tilted slightly at her tone, unreadable behind the mask.
"I didn't realize you were keeping time."
Padmé's fingers tightened against the sill.
"It's hard not to."
For a long moment, silence stretched between them.
Vader lingered by the table, his presence a weight she could feel pressing into the room.
Months ago, there had been nothing but raw, unrelenting need between them. They made love… had sex? Fucked? Crashed together in a storm of need neither could deny.
They'd only done… it a few times at these sporadic rendezvous. His life-sustaining suit made everything complicated—awkward and limited, nothing like the fluid, lingering intimacy of their past.
But they burned too intensely. No barrier—no metal, no war—could stop it.
Without him, she felt hollow. Alone in ways she hadn't known she could be.
At the next few meetings, he barely touched her—keeping his distance once again.
Then she found out about the pregnancy. Then she learned about the pregnancy. And just like that, she clung to the wedge between them—keeping to her side, afraid to cross it.
She needed space… time.
She hated how the distance hurt—how deeply she still needed him, even when she knew she shouldn't.
But she didn't press it. They never said much—how could they?
Important leaders on opposite sides of a war.
She had too much to protect. Too much to lose if the truth ever slipped—if he ever learned what she carried between them: the truth of their twins. Their very existence still a heavy, vaulted secret between them.
He had told her—over and over—not to reveal anything important. Anything that could put her in danger. The Emperor—Darth Sidious, the monster Vader served—had ways of piercing his mind, clawing the truth from him.
When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than when he first arrived. Even through the voice modulator, she had come to recognize the subtle shifts—in his voice, in his presence, in the way he carried himself.
Or maybe she only imagined them.
"You've been distant."
Padmé's pulse quickened, but she kept her expression calm, masking the storm beneath.
"I've had things to take care of."
His head turned slightly toward her. "Important?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"You never said what."
Her heart twisted painfully beneath his words, the truth curling on her tongue—too heavy to release.
While the he still couldn't know about his parentage of the twins.. maybe he could with this new pregnancy. She wasn't sure if she could keep it—or if she should—but she wanted to share it.
Share it with him. The one she once trusted with everything—the one who had never been happier than when he learned he was going to be a father.
The one who gave her counsel—the rare times she needed it.
She should tell him. She wanted to.
But the fear—cold and sharp—anchored her in place.
"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with,' she said, forcing steel into her voice."
His gaze lingered on her for a long moment, unreadable through the mask.
"Are you sure?"
Padmé turned fully to face him, hugging herself in quiet self-comfort—chasing warmth her clothes couldn't provide.
"You said it yourself, Anakin. You don't want to know things you don't need to know."
The name slipped before she could stop it.
Vader stiffened; his gloved hand curled loosely into a fist at his side.
"I told you not to call me that."
Padmé lifted her chin, refusing to let the moment slip past without holding his gaze.
"It's still your name."
His breath hitched, but he didn't move.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Vader took a step closer, his voice dropping lower.
"Is there someone else?"
Padmé's eyes widened.
"You've been avoiding me," he continued, his voice even but laced with something dangerous beneath the surface. "You've been shielding yourself in the Force."
Padmé's heart pounded. Her lips parted, shock flickering through her, but it quickly faded—replaced by something colder.
She exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the table to steady herself.
"Is that really what you think of me?"
Vader's mask tilted slightly, the glow of his lenses reflecting the flicker of the room's low light.
"I think I don't know what you've done in our time apart. You thought I was dead, as I did you. Maybe there was someone. Maybe there still is."
Padmé swallowed hard, the weight of his words cutting deeper than she expected.
Was he trying to tell her he had seen someone else?
The thought brushed faintly against her mind, but she said nothing.
Instead, she turned away from him, her fingers curling protectively over her stomach once more.
Anakin would never have asked her that. He was—and always would be—the only one.
The child shifted faintly beneath her palm.
Vader's gaze lingered on her for another breath, knowing well enough she wasn't going to say anything else.
"Would you like me to go?"
Padmé's throat tightened.
"Do you want to?"
Go back to someone else, she bit back.
He stepped closer.
"Of course not, unless you want me to."
Padmé's couldn't say anything back, sick from the turbulent turns of their time together. They'd been seeing each other for almost a standard year, and still it was so unbearably hard.
He used to be the easiest person to be around, to talk to. But now…
She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to say everything she's kept locked inside herself. She wanted him back, she wanted Anakin back. Every time she thinks he's in there, he vanishes behind the shadows of the dark robes and mask. She wonders if he was ever even there at the end of it all. But if he was—no, she can't bear that thought. But she can't stop seeing him, either.
Vader exhaled slowly, his breath catching slightly through the vocoder.
"I shouldn't be here."
Padmé turned to face him, the soft lines of her features sharpening in the dim light.
"Don't."
Neither of them moved.
She could feel it, he was leaving again.
Vader lingered, his gaze dragging over her before he turned toward the door.
As his hand hovered over the control panel.
Her voice cut through the silence.
"Anakin."
He froze.
She hesitated, the words tangled in her throat.
But as he turned slightly, his masked profile barely visible in the shadows, Padmé stepped forward—her hand drifting over the curve of her abdomen.
"I don't want to hide anything from you," she whispered, though her voice trembled.
Vader's head tilted just enough for her to catch the faint edge of uncertainty beneath his exterior.
"Then why?"
Padmé exhaled slowly, letting the silence stretch on.
But she couldn't bring herself to answer.
Not yet.
And Vader didn't press her.
As the door sealed shut, Padmé sank into the empty room, her hand resting over her stomach—alone with the secret that would refuse to stay hidden."
January 3rd, 2025 (00:00)