The Moons of Iego: The Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker Website

FAN FICTION : EPISODE III ERA (PRE-ROTS)

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Lifelines

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DISCLAIMER:

HUMMINGBIRD recognizes that this story is based on characters and situations that are owned and copyrighted by George Lucas. Under no circumstances will this story - with characters and content originally conceived by George Lucas - be utilized for any other purpose than to provide FREE entertainment and/or examples of one dreamer's writing style.

I have also borrowed lyrics from Tracy Chapman's song "The Promise" as an illustration of the characters' emotions and hope that it would not be considered breach of copyright policy, since I do not have commercial intent.

SYNOPSIS:

Alternate Universe--the story takes place at least five years after AOTC and tries to give some insight as to how Anakin/Lord Vader might have felt about the loss of his wife. I don't believe in evil per se and have tried to make it manifest in the story. It wasn't my intention to bring anything new into the Anakin/Padmé relationship, but to humanize Anakin's downfall and to leave a loophole for rectification in the future.

There is solitude of space

A solitude of sea

A solitude of death, but these

Society shall be

Compared to that profounder site

That polar privacy

A soul admitted to itself-

Finite infinity

Emily Dickinson

LIFELINES

No one dared to interrupt the reverie of the tall black-clad man. In fact his presence meant that he should be left alone and undisturbed even though the time for destruction of the Royal Palace of Theed drew near.

When the last trooper had left the scene and all droids had finished packing the few things he meant to take with himself and also left, the man gave out a sigh.

His temples throbbed with the beginning of a monstrous headache and he started to massage them while he reached out through the force to shut the doors and turn down the lights to a level suiting his dry eyes.

He shouldn't have come, the flood of memories was taxing both his nerves and sanity, but his feet just led him back.

Here in this room he felt small and his power insignificant, maybe because the ghosts who inhabited this place couldn't be hurt anymore. They were beyond his reach and the wrongs of the past could not be undone.

Fate had served its justice and he had crawled back for one last time in a desperate attempt to reconcile himself with the finality of his actions.

Anakin Skywalker felt his knees strangely sagging and with a few wobbly strides went to the bed and slowly sat on it. The canopy structure was still standing, but without her favorite draperies it reminded him of a scaffold. Waves of fragrant, almost palpable memories surged in him and he allowed himself to lie back against the stripped mattress.

He pressed his burning eyelids tight against the swelling in his eyes, but one treacherous teardrop escaped and slid down the glacial features of his handsome face.

Yes, the Dark Lord was crying and in this room it didn't really matter. He let the vortex of emotions shoot through his entire body hoping that after this purge he'd find some semblance of normality.

He should have known better before he walked into this trap! Suddenly his feverish mind called back a verse from a long forgotten poem, one of his wife's favorites "our past stood like a loaded gun" and a howl of terrible pain escaped his throat.

The guilt, the void and the loneliness finally overcame him and Anakin thrashed the bed in silent convulsions, feeling one step from total madness. Cold sweat drenched his hair and trickled down his spine; he tasted death in his mouth and his lungs drew no breath. If he could only die...

In a while the fit subsided and Anakin grew still again. His ears caught the familiar roar of the distant waterfalls and he felt a sudden pang to see them one last time.

Straightening his numb body to a sitting position he pushed himself up. Then he stalked to the terrace's door and mechanically force pushed it open without breaking his stride. When his boots hit the stone slabs of the balcony a renewed wave of reminiscence washed over him. He could swear he heard Padmé's whisper at the back of his mind and his stomach churned with pain.

How many times had they stood at this railing waiting for the sun to come up? He had held her cuddled to his chest under his robe and have whispered sweet nonsense in her hair. The hem of her gown would tangle around his boots and she would falter slightly only to be welcomed in his protective arms.

Anakin's gaze wandered to the left of the balcony where the pots with the fragile Japore roses still stood. His mind yanked his body in that direction and despite his trembling he allowed himself to kneel in front of the withered plants, cold fingers touching their dry saplings.

They were dead, her beautiful pale lilac roses! Their spirit lingered behind only in his mental eye, much like his wife's soul that, in all truth, never left his own. With her departure all good and beautiful had left his life and even these flowers were now dry and ugly, haunting memories from a happier past.

A sudden gust of wind touched upon his heavy cloak and it felt like her fingers were tugging at his shoulders. Anakin closed his burning eyes and poured all his will power into one simple wish--her ghost to leave this place and he to either be freed of it or die this very instant.

Darkness swirled around him, crept along the tortured corridors of his mind, probed at the bleeding corners of his heart and still there was no liberation. After all the power he had been given, and the fear he induced throughout the galaxy, it all boiled down to a few dry flowers and a wind to break the Dark Lord's composure.

Anakin wept openly now, face contorted beyond recognition, hands buried in his hair and the sound of his grief was blood curdling. He fell to the stone floor in a heap of dark robes as even darker demons gnawed at his heart...or what was left from it.

All pretense gone, the layers of power, arrogance and deceit shed for once, Anakin felt that if at this moment she could walk up to him, take his hand and tell him that he was still her "Ani" he could follow her no matter where. If her eyes could look upon him the way they had, if she smiled at him and beckoned for him, he was sure that he could bear the worse...stand trial for the horrible things he'd done and die in the end knowing she still loved him.

Time stood still as the Sith took a private moment with his grief. It was the first time and the last for that matter when he would abandon himself to his roiling emotions.

The loss of his wife severed the last thread that still connected him with his past as a Jedi. His love for her was always looked down upon from the rest of the Order. To his credit Anakin had always insisted and was convinced even now at this wretched moment, that if he ever strived to be a better man it was because he wanted to prove worthy of her love.

Always eager for acceptance and respect, first as a young slave and later on as a Padawan, Anakin had strived to meet his master's expectations and to live up to the promising things the Jedi Council saw in him. He had gone through periods of terrible homesickness where he thought it impossible to continue with his training. As his grasp of his force skills grew so his confidence increased and Anakin was able to push back his fears. Still he was prone to bouts of acute self-doubt that only his enhanced control ability was able to tone down, but not cure.

The Sith wiped his face with the back of his hand and quickly drew himself up to a standing position. The ill-advised wind continued its daunting play with his dark robes pushing him further into the tide of unwelcome memories.

Good that nobody could see him in this state, he thought exhaling powerfully. Others never felt comfortable in his presence and it still irked him to see even his ship's officers scatter hurriedly at his approach. At the beginning it swelled the pride in him and fed his twisted sense of pleasure, but as time moved on even he, the Dark Lord Vader had moments when he felt something close to loneliness and would have been grateful for some human presence. But no, people would not stay longer around him than their tasks required and even then they would act as if facing death or worse. He had to accept that most probably in their eyes he had become so dehumanized, the embodiment of evil incarnate, that they would not risk one moment longer within his reach.

Ironically he understood that fear now. For who would trust a man who did not spare his closest kin, who hunted down his friends and ordered their deaths! Revenge had brought him nothing in the sense of peace and normality. On the contrary it alienated him further from the living, ultimately sentencing him to unending torture. No one knew, but the Sith was evading falling to sleep and spend his nights pacing his quarters like a wounded animal, working on ship designs or meditating, anything but not sleeping.

Anakin started walking the overshadowed terrace, his eyes aimlessly scanning the horizon, attention once again turned inward. He missed her terribly and nothing, not the political power, his astounding force abilities, nor the control he had gained over the myriads of human beings in the galaxy could appease this hunger. If anything they were sharpening it to insufferable heights.

What possible difference could his being the second most powerful individual in the galaxy make when he did not have a soul mate to share it with! He had come so far and yet it felt superfluous and empty...this victory of his! had been the one singular constant in his life that have accepted him with his wrongs and goods and encouraged him to walk his own path regardless of the consequences. She loved him for what he was and not for what he would become. In a way her unconditional commitment made him blissfully happy, but also vulnerable for he knew his darker secrets would lead him astray to ultimately betray them both.

The Sith tried to calm himself by tapping on the happier memories of the last spring they had spent together and his last birthday celebration. Padmé had always laid great emphasis on family events and birthdays in particular. She would start her preparations at least a month in advance and for most of the time would keep it secret from him insisting on the element of surprise.

Had anyone dared to look at the Dark Lord at this particular moment they would have noticed the veritable change in his countenance--his beautiful, but cold eyes have turned dreamy blue and sparkled with long forgotten zest, his features had shed the mask of fearsome resolve and shone with inner light and his mouth, usually a severe line, curled up in something close to a boyish smile.

This handsome face belonged to the old Anakin, the man who loved the dream of united galaxy and called the Jedi his friends. There was not much left from this young, idealistic person in the tall brooding man that stood by the railing, watching the setting sun beyond his beloved waterfalls. But there wasn't much of the old order and of the old Republic left as well, so the metamorphosis was all the more poignant.

Anakin was transported back in the past to the eve of his 23^rd birthday. It had fallen on a weekend and he had to call in a few favors in order to free himself for the event. Then he had gone on a shopping spree in Theed's most glitzy neighborhood to buy his wife a present, a small token of his unconditional love for her. He had spent two desperate hours in various jewelry shops, but nothing came even close to what he had imagined for her.

Finally tired and crestfallen he had wandered into an establishment that had obviously seen better days for everything from the showcase windows to the owner himself was covered in layers of dust and bore various signs of decay. Still the young Jedi was being polite and agreed to have a look on a selected pieces of vintage jewelry presented to him by the owner. And there all of a sudden he'd seen the thing he'd been looking for. Anakin's first thought had been that the pendant would go nicely with her green eyes and the thin chain would bring out the pearly sheen of her slender neck and shoulders.

At present the Sith flexed the fingers of his left hand to chase away the disturbing sensation of feeling the weight of the medallion, his inner eye had just pictured, on the palm of his numb hand. Of course he had bought it without even caring to bargain and had sped back home to surprise her.

Time had not tainted the vividness of that particular evening and Anakin knew he would carry this memory for as long as he drew breath. Padmé had jumped in his embrace the moment he'd walked through the door and he had felt dizzy and instantly aroused by her delight to see him coming home early. With her it was always like this--even the smallest gestures would be given new meanings, creating an intimacy full of joy.

Tentatively Anakin walked his consciousness through the events of that evening allowing the searing pain to get hold of him again, his will numb and listless under the onslaught of the past.

She had insisted he took a bath first and he had pinned her in the corner with the words "Do I smell so bad honey or you're not in the mood?" Even now her crystal clear laughter reverberated through his brain and Anakin could swear that he felt the feather light touch of her breath on his cheek. Slipping away from him she'd shed her tunic revealing her androgynous hips and slender torso all clad in gray boxers and sports bra. "Skywalker, pop in the tub and I'll show you in what mood I am!"

The Sith's breathing had become shallow and labored as he battled with temptations long gone. He paced the terrace like a caged animal, his boots echoing in the dusk in sync with the wild race of his heart. Why did you leave me Padmé? Did you really believe that I could hurt you like they told you? Without you I had no one to put me into perspective and the path to the dark side seemed the only possible solution! for a thousandth time the Sith reasoned with himself and for a thousandth time it felt lame and appalling to explain murder and revenge with something as immortal as his love for his wife.

But it was true; he did snap and act blinded by hatred and jealousy. In the course of a week he had lost his Padmé, his faith in the Jedi and his best friend had betrayed him--it was a miracle that he hadn't gone mad altogether! The one person who'd shown any sympathy for him was Palpatine. He remained the only human being that did not condemn him, but took time to listen to him and empathized with him when the world as he knew it crumpled on his head.

Anakin bent forward leaving his weight entirely on the railing while his eyes scanned the darkening horizon. This was her favorite time of the day - when all the colors had acquired breathtaking smoky hues and the sun no longer dominated the sky.

It was at this very spot that he'd found her countless times admiring the waning light and listening to things only she could discern. His wife, a little fay person with immense presence, was still here brought back into the world of the living on the power of his imagination. Or was it vice versa that he was the one living in a surreal world, a place of shadows and blood, whereas she dwelled on the shores of infinity.

Pain shot up his hands as he had unknowingly dug his nails into the railing - the stone cutting into his flesh reciprocating a reflection of the pain he had inflicted on her. Amazing how we end up hurting those we love the most! But maybe this was love...guilt, pain and remorse instead of fulfillment and joyous encounters, as he'd naively believed once.

Absentmindedly he pressed the hem of his cloak onto his bruised palm and throwing one last look at the horizon slowly went inside. His ears caught the rustling of the peach curtains as he passed by and this brought back yet another wave of nauseating reminiscence.

The swish of her clothes and the feel of the fine fabric as he would help her undress were still fresh on his skin. Untold evenings he had stood mesmerized watching her attend to her toilet bursting with joy if he could so much as hand her a hairbrush or a ribbon. Her dressing table, now anonymous without her paraphernalia of cosmetics and trinkets, was still bitterly dear to his eyes. Anakin would have taken it if he could have hidden it from his master's suspicious eyes.

Unknowingly he had gotten back to the bed...their bed and was staring at it as if expecting her still to be there. And she would have been had he'd come in time to whisk her before the Jedi did. He'd been such a fool to trust her to be safe with Obi-Wan, his two-faced friend.

Bringing back the name was enough to rouse the ice-cold blanket of wrath that never seemed to recede completely these days. With it came the surge of raw power that the light side never, even at its most glorious moments, been able to match. Anakin inhaled deeply and left his focus shift fully onto the current of bubbling anger within. Gingerly he soaked his consciousness into the maelstrom of darkness and allowed it to surge through his system. Then he shifted back to her image framed in his glowing indignation.

Maybe Palpatine was correct after all--she shouldn't have gone with the Jedi without putting so much as an imitation of resistance. Hadn't she really? He had only Palpatine's account of the events and the Force was his witness he couldn't base his faith on them. Doubt gnawed at the back of his mind adding fuel to his rage.

Why was everyone, himself included, so eager to crucify her? Was it necessary for his new master to slander her, to hint on things that would belittle her in Anakin's eyes, if what he had to offer him was so supreme? It should speak for itself and they all should leave the memory of her alone.

No matter what she would always remain his angel, the one good thing he'd had entirely for himself. And they ought to take it away! Resentment welled in his chest and it wasn't directed only at the Jedi. I miss you Padmé and I won't rest until I uncover the truth.

A new gush of wind stirred the stillness in the room and the Sith was wrenched from his reverie. He straitened his shoulders and went back to the balcony's door to close it. As if it mattered, soon all this would be dust and ashes and the ghosts would be homeless just like he was. Annihilation and leveling with the ground were his orders and he planned to follow them to the point. Hoping, as he suspected, to barricade the door to his past and its useless doubts.

His hands reached out and slid the transparisteel doors back in place; then his fingers drew the curtains with painstaking finality and he turned to have one last look at what he once thought his most precious island under the sky.

Anakin wouldn't dare to admit it, but he had hoped to keep the palace intact as well as his illusion that one day she might find her way back here. If she was still alive she would interpret its destruction as the final proof of his turn, or even worse, as his ultimate denial of everything they ever had.

Who knew, maybe he was denouncing their past, but it was only a cursory attempt to appease his greedy new master. Already he could feel the shackles of his promotion to Sith status clamp down on his will, but realized that resistance was futile. For he harbored no illusions with great power came great obligations and indebtedness to Palpatine that was so daunting Anakin hadn't even began to grasp it.

For a hundredth time today Anakin felt his chest heavy with premonition and heaved a powerful sigh. Time to prove myself worthy of my new title. Inevitability rose like a tidal wave licking at his haunches as he threw one last nostalgic look at the bedroom and the past it stood for.

With every step he took toward the door he tore a part of his mangled heart and by the time he reached the fateful threshold he was a new man--a Sith, Lord Darth Vader with a wedge of ice in his chest and empty, cold eyes. He knew he could deal the mortal blow to his old self, but somehow he had always clung to the thread of hope that he wouldn't have to.

One last step and he was already past the door's frame. The fragrant Naboo night roamed the deserted corridors of the exquisite palace, but its balmy mirk could not shut out the blackness that solidified around his spine extending its paralyzing tentacles into his brain.

Farewell my beloved and don't look back. I know I won't, because there would be only death and suffering to see. As Anakin I would love you till the end of time, but I have a new name now - one that scares even me from time to time. As a Sith I can only hope for you to never cross my path milady and I trust you'd know why.

He force closed the door and his fingers flew to touch its surface in a caressing gesture. It feels like closing of a favorite book only the opportunity to reread it in the future would be rendered unattainable.

Against his will he backstepped, simultaneously trying to control the telltale trembling of his knees. He needed to contact his ship and give his orders if he wanted to keep his reputation intact. Palpatine would hear of his lingering behind and would not be pleased.

Anger flashed as images of her transposed over images of Palpatine. There was no delivery only bitterness and echoing darkness, but he'd known it in advance, didn't he? Breathing deeply he started walking toward the exit and in his wake there was a palpable trail of thicker darkness as it recognized its own.

The Dark Lord emerged from the palace the moment the first stars were born on the breathtaking Nubian sky. His tall proud silhouette drew still as he took one last gulp of the planet's beauty. Through his detached eyes he could still register the magnificence of the natural phenomenon around him, but his Sith heart lacked the attributes to appreciate it on a personal level. It was like he had bottled his past back in that bedroom and left the jars to be destroyed with the rest of it. Remembering, dreams...self-doubt, all this Vader left behind. His feelings ran smoothly now as the drama of the past was purged from his mind and he was ready to embrace his future as a Sith.

Lord Vader squared his shoulders and let his senses brush by the energy field around him. He felt immediately energized and ready to proceed. Reaching the foot of the stairs he turned in a swirl of black robes, eyes soaring to the sky. The stars twinkled warily and the sugar moon was partly hidden by a puffy cloud. The whisper of his light alter ego made his heart race a bit. You'll follow me down wherever I am Padmé and in my dreams I'll be hoping for a second chance to rectify what I've done to you. Farewell my love, sleep well!

Having finally taken leave from his past and facing a future he could not truly embrace Vader started toward the waiting shuttle. Automatically he opened his comlink and ordered his first officer to start the countdown.

Every now and then as his clothes would brush against the lush vegetation his ears would get the most peculiar sensation of footfalls just a breath out of sync with his own trailing behind. This time the anger retreated and gave way to relief. He blinked his joy away and allowed himself a tight smile.

It seemed that he had acquired a trustworthy companion. The specter of a tiny, emerald-eyed woman with a smile that could put to shame all the suns in the universe and crystalline laughter that sounded like benediction, walked with him in the dark. Vader needn't even turn to make sure that she'd follow, he just knew.

There's no end then we are still one, his mind concluded and this realization brought an enraptured look on his face. A sudden flashback stopped him cold in his tracks. His wedding vows, he needed to say them aloud once more before he assumed his position as the Dark Lord of the Sith. "Long or short, I vow to spend the rest of my life with you." For a split second his heart fell for as much as he strained his senses there was no reply.

Frantic, Vader spun around to face the path he'd just walked. His force enhanced vision pierced the darkness searching for the familiar presence for what it seemed eternity to no avail. The wind rustled the treetops sending fantastic moon-lace patterns of gossamer light to the ground. Further down the path the shadows grew thicker and more menacing forming a firm wall of darkness.

His lips were just about to form a wordless please when he heard her thoughts and felt her sense of joy reciprocating the vision of their wedding day.

"If you think of me, if you'll be waiting, if you can make a promise, if it's one that you can keep...I vow to come for you," came her silent reply and he felt the melting warmth of her smile blossom in his heart. The perception of her words in this bodiless form had surreal quality to it and was slightly disconcerting, but nevertheless welcomed.

Vader hid the memory of this troth away, deep down the fathomless depths of his consciousness and built a deviously clever mind block around it. Slowly, oblivion swept across the landscape of his mind, devouring unrelenting all his bittersweet memories. But this keepsake gem remained hidden in the folds of his soul for infinity until the time came to claim it back.

The Sith turned toward the shuttle slightly peeved with himself for having lost so much time on this planet. His threatening steps echoed through the steel bowls of the shuttle like war drums. The landing ramp started to close as the shuttle's engines fired up.

Vader was met by his first officer who was eager to make a favorable impression by foretelling his commander's wishes. The Sith fixed him with a piercing stare and nodded curtly.

Had the young officer known the Dark Lord longer he might have been able to discern a peculiar glint in his unsettling blue eyes. For a split second behind these eyes there was a shadow of beating wings as if the bird of hope was waiting for its promise to come true. Then blackness took over for infinity.

THE END
(webmaster's note: the emerald-eyed woman was indeed Padmé, as how the author visualized Anakin's wife before the prequels; the author still feels very faithful to that idea.)

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