Death of a Dark Angel
By: Cariel
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
—Christina Rossetti
After the last confrontation with Luke, Dormé suggested to Vader that they take a holiday to recharge and give their son some time to think. Dormé was confident the boy would come around. After all, if he was anything like his father, he would be curious about the Force and about his family. No one could provide such information except Vader himself.
It had been awhile since they were last in their lakehouse on Delaya and Dormé thought it would be a good place to get away from everything that had happened recently. It would give them time away from their incompetent compatriots and continue to mend the slight space between them.
Dormé never cared much for Alderaan and hardly noticed it was gone until she studied the night sky on Delaya. These days, Delaya was far more populated than ever before. The peace normally acquired at their private property was not nearly as quiet as it had been in the past.
As their days away from everything drew to a close, Anakin and Dormé fantasized about what sort of glorious royal family they would be once they convinced Luke to join them in their Empire, quelling the pitiful insurrection that was the Rebellion. Luke would have it all and they would not think twice about spoiling him, giving in to his every whim. Who wouldn’t want that sort of life?
Though he knew that there would come a day when death would force them to part ways, Vader never once considered that it would be his beloved who would cross the veil first. In reality, he did his best not to dwell on such things. There was still a part of him that secretly hoped such a time would never come. But in his foolishness and arrogance, Anakin had crossed one line too many and now his queen, his beloved Dormé, was fading away before his very eyes. His wife did not know that every breath she took was borrowed, nor did she realize that every heartbeat drew her that much closer to the end. Though he hid it well, Anakin too was dying on the inside as each day drew closer to her last.
On this particular morning, as he woke up to the soft warmth that was Dormé’s embrace, Anakin found himself studying his beloved through understanding eyes. It was strange to think that only now, as a follower of the dark side for so many years, did he finally understand the wisdom given to him when he was still on the light side. He had always been taught to live in the moment, not to let the future or possible future to take control.
Though we may not understand it, everything happens as the Force wills it. We must accept it and learn to let go.
Furrowing his brow, Vader gave sighed softly at the memory of his former Master’s words. For the first time since his fall, Anakin did not feel the usual rush of blind hatred at the thought of his old mentor. In fact, for the first time in years, he felt only a tinge of melancholy, though he believed it was nothing more than his thoughts returning to the sleeping woman in his arms. Studying her with the silent intensity that she always loved, Vader found himself recalling the past and just enjoying the present.
As he ran his fingers through her dark mane of hair, Anakin smiled in contentment. Though they had been together for over twenty years, he never grew tired of mornings like this. He was certain that he never would. But this morning was different somehow, more poignant, as though they were on the precipice of something great. He did not know what it could possibly be, but he was already looking forward to it.
If only he knew…
Despite this hint of an elusive epiphany, Anakin’s thoughts did not linger too much on the future for the present was far more inviting. It was not often, if ever, that Vader did not think about the future, yet in this moment, his mind was focused on the here and now. Most importantly, he focused entirely on her. Gently moving his hand to her cheek, he gingerly caressed it as though she were a sleeping goddess and he, a mere mortal, who had stumbled upon her.
Even in rest, Dormé looked so regal and poised, dignified and yet entirely at peace. It was very easy to forget that at one time she was a handmaiden in the services of another queen. It was even easier to forget that at one time he had been married to that very queen Dormé had served or that he had been nothing more than a Jedi, a lost soul dying to lose himself in something greater than himself.
With Dormé, he did not have to be anyone but himself, an ordinary man trying to find his place among the stars. She knew his weaknesses, had been witness to his flaws as well as his strengths and she loved him for it. Because of her, Anakin became something far greater than he could have ever imagined. She completed him in ways that he could never hope to understand and one day, he would come to learn that Dormé was in reality his goodness manifested in physical form.
Nevertheless, even this evaded his thoughts as he let his fingers slip away from her cheek and back to her long hair. Playing with it as he did almost every night during their years together, Anakin closed his eyes and gave a peaceful sigh. Drawing her closer to him, Vader breathed her in—the soft scent of rain-drenched flowers that were quintessentially Dormé soothing him—and soon drifted off into a peaceful sleep, unaware that this morning would mark their last together.
That afternoon, Dormé lounged on a particularly comfortable couch while Anakin was speaking with the Emperor in a private room. Dormé sipped on a mug of a local hot cider as she watched the rain pouring outside through the window. The pattering sound of rain was soothing and something she missed during their long stints aboard their Super Star Destroyer. It was refreshing to be on land once more, to be in the heart of nature which was lost when they were out in space.
Suddenly the sound of laser fire, alerted her to intruders. It was hard to tell which direction the attack was coming from. She heard the stormtroopers outside yelling and firing, but Dormé was promptly on her feet, grabbing her wakizashi. Dormé debated about whether to alert her beloved because she knew interrupting a conversation with his master would not bode well for either of them. She also knew with his Force sensitivity, he would have felt the danger already anyway.
It was not long before one of the attackers entered their home. It took a split-second for Dormé to recognise the older woman. It was the woman she had been hunting down personally ever since Moteé’s death. ‘Rabé,’ Dormé hissed. She was the witch who not only killed Moteé, but also had been trying to kill Dormé herself on more than one occasion. Dormé would see to it that she paid dearly.
The elder former handmaiden was well aware of Vader’s weaknesses. From her research, she knew this entire lakehouse was built specifically catered to his medical needs. She knew, from careful observation that he was able to navigate the complex without use of his suit and mask. Knowing Vader would not be able to protect his lady if they were outside; Rabé decisively aimed her blaster at the large windows, causing them to shatter and the vacuumed environment to rush out.
Dormé promptly disarmed her opponent, causing her blaster to skid across the room, but Rabé, who was also well-trained with a sword, was quick to defend herself upon Dormé’s second attack. Dormé refused to concede one step backward as her blade met Rabé’s.
Rabé used a technique that she had witnessed Sabé use on one occasion. Deftly retreating a few steps to make it look as though Lady Vader had the advantage, the older woman dodged to the left before swiftly attacking at the right, using her right-handed weakness as her advantage, forcing her left-handed foe backward. She continued with harsh strokes, continually forcing Dormé outside into the rain.
Dormé did not like where this was heading. Little did the older former handmaiden know, Dormé had a trick up her sleeve. She had tendrils of the dark side within her cells. Though she did not feel it, nor was she aware of it, but the power compelled her on the inside to be fiercer and more aggressive in her attacks.
As he spoke to the emperor, Anakin sensed something was amiss. Frowning, he was about to excuse himself properly when Vader heard the sound of glass shattering and gunfire. Without a word of explanation to his master, the younger Sith lord ended communications and rushed out of the room quickly.
He could feel the danger now pulsating through his veins and knew without question who it was directed at. ‘Dormé…’ he whispered in fear, quickly grabbing his armour.
He could see from the hallway that led to the living room where she had been lounging earlier. One of the windows had been destroyed. He sensed that she was outside where the threat now stood.
Moving swiftly to place on the heavy layers of protective suiting, Anakin felt as though he was not moving nearly fast enough. Dormé’s life was in grave danger and with each moment wasted away on his suit, Vader knew he would have one less moment to intervene and save his queen.
Though Rabé had many more years of duelling experience behind her, it was clear the dark side gave Dormé the advantage. Or at least it appeared so.
With their swords tangled up in their duel, Rabé broke free and used the butt of her sword to hit Dormé in the gut, unaware that she had hit a sensitive spot.
Dormé had the wind knocked out of her, but the pain that engulfed her midsection, which never fully healed, was enough to cause her to pause. This allowed Rabé to get a good stab in. Dormé cried out in agony as Rabé’s sword pierced through her abdomen. When the older woman removed her sword, blood gushed from her wound.
Despite the injury, Dormé’s fury far outweighed her pain. Standing upright once more, she was able to dodge the rest of Rabé’s attacks. She blocked out the pain with her anger, hissing and spitting at her foe.
Rabé was taken by surprise. She had expected to leave and let her die. She had not expected Lady Vader to viciously counter-attack like this. She was ferocious and the look in her eyes was something out of a nightmare. Rabé retreated without looking behind her, for her eyes were wide, locked on the infamous Lady Vader, whose reputation had not been over-exaggerated.
Dormé recalled every single one of Rabé’s ‘snarky’ looks and disapproving glances. She recalled how she chided Moteé and her for sneaking out to clubs. She recalled the news of Moteé’s death and the sadness in her husband and son’s eyes at her funeral rites. Rabé had not only killed Moteé and no doubt many other loyal Imperials. She had also plotted Dormé’s own demise and attempted to carry it out. Rabé was worse than her old mentor, Saché. Dormé hissed and cursed as her attacks grew more violent. Even with her mortal wound, Dormé held the upper-hand. She took off Rabé’s sword-arm and with one final slice, her head.
As Rabé’s body and head fell in a pool of her own blood, Dormé’s own pain returned with severe intensity. She found she was no longer able to hold her sword, but managed to stumble back indoors, stepping over the broken glass and through the living room. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. But Dormé would not stop until she reached her beloved.
Dormé no longer cared what the emperor had to say or whether it would look poorly on Anakin or her for interrupting. She did not even remember leaving her wakizashi outdoors. Her legs felt heavy and she found it increasingly harder to walk any further.
She passed through the next room, but did not make it to where he was. Teetering slightly, she took note that she was trailing blood, her own blood. ‘Anakin—’ she called, but her voice was thick. Using the wall to steady herself, she took another step, but that was as far as she managed to go before sliding to the floor. She coughed again, this time with blood. Dormé had never been so afraid in her entire life except for the time she thought Anakin might die. She had never been afraid of death before, not when her beloved was with her. She knew they would go together if the Force willed it so, but they had been lucky. Now, it seemed, her luck was running out.
The panic proved far too powerful to ignore or resist and despite the demands of common sense, Vader swiftly returned to the living room without his mask and the respirator that it contained. The sight that greeted him was nothing less than the manifestation of his greatest fear; Dormé was dying and he could nothing to save her. He could hear her soft voice speaking his name as he entered the room and rushed to her side just as Dormé struggled to meet him.
Dormé began to delude herself into thinking it was Rabé’s blood, that Dormé would not die because she was Lady Vader. She would not die this time, not at the hands of some pathetic traitor like Rabé. That witch! That murderous witch! Dormé insisted that she was too young to die. She refused to believe it. This was hardly a grand way for her to die… And Anakin… Oh gods! she began to cry. I can’t leave him. I cannot. I won’t…This isn’t fair! She could not feel her legs anymore and her body was feeling so much colder, though she blamed this on the rain. But it had to be all right since she could no longer feel any pain from her injury. Certainly, that was a good sign…wasn’t it?
‘DORMÉ!’ he cried out as he struggled to catch his breath while the panic caused his blood to feel as though it were made of ice. He vaguely took note of the blood that pooled and poured from Dormé’s wound. There was so much blood everywhere…trailing from the broken windows to where she now rested. It was all hers and this did little to aid Anakin in his need to maintain calm.
I’m sorry, Lord Vader, but we’ve done all we can but the damage has already been done. It is a miracle that your wife was even able to survive this wound, most would not. If I were you, I’d count my blessings while I can, for Lady Dormé is living on borrowed time now.
The memory of the doctor’s words returned to haunt him as Anakin moved to slip his arms around Dormé to hold her close to him.
All the curses Dormé had left soon filtered away as the darkness within her flew away. The dark side had little use for a dying body and this left Dormé spiritually naked and incredibly exposed, vulnerable to her fears. It seemed like an eternity before she was in her beloved’s arms. Her thoughts were running wild, but she was extremely conscious despite the blood loss.
‘Dormé, please hold on…Oh Force, don’t take her from me…’ he whispered desperately as the tears began to stream down his cheeks. Though the suit was designed to maintain equilibrium of temperature, Vader felt as though his very bones ached from a numbing chill. His broken lungs burned as he gasped for air, but none of this mattered. All Vader knew was that his beloved was dying and he had to do something, anything, to save her. Silently, he begged the Force and the gods, any higher power in existence, to take his Force powers and even his life in order to spare hers. But the gods and the Force remained silent and instead only watched on as Vader brushed away the dark strands of her now bloodied hair from her cheek.
Anakin’s tears were her own. As she looked up into his blue eyes, she knew this was it. The pain and desperation she saw there mirrored her own. Though she could barely feel his arms around her, she heard him.
‘My love…please don’t go…I’m begging you…please hold on,’ he whispered hoarsely as he touched her cheek and tried to summon anyone who could help them through the Force. It was a desperate gamble, but the only doctor he was aware of within the region was still on the Executor, which was in orbit over Delaya. He hoped the old man, who had saved Dormé’s life once before, would register the silent sense of urgency and return to the surface.
‘Anakin—’ she began, having difficulty speaking through her tears.
Nevertheless, despite this frantic attempt to call for help time had long since run out for the dark lord’s beloved queen and goddess. Though Anakin did not want to believe it, deep down he knew that there would be no second chances this time. Holding her close he tried to ignore the fact her body was growing rapidly colder and that her skin was growing deathly, just as he tried to pretend that he could not see her Force aura was rapidly fading away. She could not die after all for she was the other half of his soul. They were one after all the completion of one another. Death could not steal her away without taking him as well, or so he told himself, as he played with her hair and tried to speak words of love to her through his tears.
‘I’m afraid, Anakin. I don’t want to die...’ Dormé wanted him to fix it, to make it all better. She wished to go back to the day before when they were happy and unaware of the travails this day would bring. Deep down, she knew this was not possible and that this day inevitably had to come. Just one more day, one more hour... she begged the gods and the Force, any entity that might respond to her desperate pleas.
Her words so desperate and fearful tore at his heart leaving Anakin feeling all the more helpless. But despite their desperate prayers, the time had come for Dormé to return to the stars. Holding her close Anakin tried to clear his thoughts to actually think beyond his own emotions. At her words, he tightened his embrace and gently moved to touch her cold, pale cheek. ‘It’s all right, my love...I’m...not going anywhere...’ Anakin said softly between his own gasps of air. His lungs continued their struggle and soon the Sith lord felt himself growing light-headed because of it. But in this moment, it mattered little, for his thoughts were entirely on her.
With her left hand, she reached up to touch his tear-stained cheek with what strength she had left. It felt like the time they shared their first kiss before he went to Kessel over twenty years ago. She felt as though she was reaching for something that was just beyond her grasp. All of those years they spent together...His laughter, his smile, the look in his eyes which told her everything she needed to know, how much she valued him as a friend and companion...
Feeling her hand reaching up to touch his cheek, the broken man leant into it gently as he gazed down at her with sorrow-filled, but loving eyes. Her words brought new tears to his eyes, but this time he forced himself not to openly weep. For he could feel her sorrow through the Force and knew it was because she did not want to cause him pain. He wanted her to know this was not her fault, that he only had himself to blame for this, that where she went he would soon follow… But his lungs would not permit him to speak all the words he wanted to say and Anakin was too lost to his despair to tap the Force as he would have liked.
My lord, my king, my husband, my best friend and dearest love... ‘I don’t want to leave you—’ she said, her voice strained in anguish of her heart, not from the wounds Rabé inflicted. She did not want him to be alone and she could not stand being the cause of his pain.
‘My dearest Dormé...my precious beloved...it is...all right…for...we are one...you and I...I will always...be...with you...my love...’ he whispered softly unaware of just how true this would become.
‘Anakin—’ Her breath hitched before she exhaled her last breath.
Bowing his head, the Sith lord held her close to him as his body shook with silent sobs of despair. All around him, the ground began to spin violently as his body felt cold and numb. ‘...My dearest beloved...My queen...My goddess...I am...so sorry...’ he whispered, knowing he had only himself to blame for her passing. His every mistake and wrong-doing towards her replayed in his mind, adding to his despair and sorrow.
If only you could have learnt how to properly heal... If only you could have told her that you were safe after the Death Star’s destruction... If only you could have told her that she would always be Luke’s mother in your eyes… the darkness taunted his fading thoughts adding to Vader’s guilt and shame.
Closing his eyes, Anakin felt the inky blackness of unconsciousness creeping into his thoughts and openly welcomed it. In his dizzying and clouded thoughts, Anakin could still hear Dormé’s words and recall her sorrow. She was more saddened at the thought of leaving him than of passing away. The thought tore at his heart as well and as he struggled to breathe his last breath Anakin could not help but smile slightly as he deluded himself into believing he would be granted the bliss of following her.
...I’ll be with you...soon...my love... he spoke within his thoughts as he hoped his words would help ease her sorrow before slipping into unconsciousness.
Infectious sense of hopelessness
And prayers for rain
I suffocate
I breathe in dirt
And nowhere shines
But desolate
And drab the hours all spent
On killing time again
All waiting for the rain
…
You fracture me your hands on me
A touch so plain so stale it kills
You strangle me
Entangle me in hopelessness and prayers for rain
I deteriorate I live in dirt
And nowhere glows but drearily and tired
The hours all spent on killing time
Again all waiting for the rain
—The Cure
In his lucid dream, she was there, swimming in the vast pond which was surrounded by a vast, tropical forest. It was the same place he had often visited in dreams of the past and like such dreams, it was, in reality, nothing more than a nightmare. For now, all he remembered of this place was the immense peace that marked she was near. It was then he caught sight of her swimming. How often he wondered if water was truly her domain!
At the sight of him, Dormé laughed and teased, inviting him to join her. After a few moments of hesitation, he finally overcame his paralyzing fear and moved to join her in the water. However, as he entered the water and moved to join her side, Anakin eyes widen in concern and sorrow. As he reached out to draw her to him, the lithe form of his beloved slowly faded away as though she were but a restless spirit. With a heart weighed heavy with grief, Vader moved to return to shore, to find some clue as to where his beloved had gone.
At her departure, the air seemed to grow thicker, leaving Anakin gasping for air as though his lungs were broken despite the fact he inhabited his twenty-three-year-old body before the flames of Mustafar damaged him. All around him, the beautiful trees withered and faded as the sparkling moonlit water became murky. The waterfall slowed to a sluggish drip before ceasing altogether.
Anakin, who had no idea where Dormé went or why she left, swiftly returned to the forest in a desperate search for his lost love, but no matter how hard he searched for her, Dormé could not be found. For an eternity or so, Lord Vader scoured and searched the forest, praying to the gods and to the Force for mercy, begging and pleading with them, even offering his very soul if only they would return his beloved goddess to him. The time for mercy had drawn to a close for the broken man, leaving his prayers and desperate pleas to fall on silent ears. Nevertheless, this did not stop him from desperately trying.
If anything, the silence only worsened his need to find her so that in the end, not a single inch of the forest was untouched by the Sith lord. Eventually he finally found himself at the outskirts of the forest, staring into the thick, white mist that he had regarded as the perimeter. He had come to this place many times, but not once had he ever been able to see anything beyond it. This time, however, he could make out the shadowy figure of a woman moving through the mist. He did not need to guess who it was, for it was a silhouette that he had long ago put to memory, engraved in his heart.
‘Dormé?’ he called out, the desperation evident in his voice as he moved to step into the mist only to be held back by an unseeing force. Calling her name repeatedly in desperation, Vader watched in utter despair as the shadow faded away into the mist. The wind around him began to pick up, clearing the thick, choking fog that inhibited his ability to breath properly. Soft whispers floated along the wind, beckoning him to pay attention and begging him to take heed.
‘You must wake-up…’ her voice whispered sorrowfully to him through the breeze causing Anakin to furrow his brow in confusion.
‘Please wake-up…’ she breathed into his ears as he tried once more to step into the mist. This time he succeeded only to feel himself beginning to awaken as his eyes slowly fluttered open marking the fact he was regaining consciousness.
‘Only when you open your eyes will we be truly together again.’
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Lord Vader could still recall the final hushed whisper carried in the wind just before he awoke.
‘Any sign of improvement?’
Anakin had already closed his eyes due to the brightness of the room when he caught the familiar voice of the man who had saved Dormé. His thoughts began to scatter then as memory of the past events returned with a vengeance.
‘I'm afraid, Anakin. I don't want to die...’
This was not death he promptly realized, it was much worse. This was life, and now he, but a shadow, was trapped in it. He tried to block out the sound of the respirator that choked life into his broken lungs just as he tried to ignore the brightness that burned his closed eyes.
‘Negative, doctor,’ replied the droid who was monitoring his life signs.
‘...My dearest beloved...My queen...My goddess...I am...so sorry...’
Vader frowned struggling to slip back into the meditative, comatose state he was in moments ago, anything to escape this wretched place…anything to return to her. This was not really happening; it just could not be happening.
‘It is as I thought,’ the old man replied. ‘It is quite the miracle that he is even alive, especially given the weakened state of his lungs nevermind the left lung’s collapse—’
Instead of the rush of despair, all that Vader felt was a strange calm over coming him at these words. It was as though somehow within this simple statement held the answers he sought. They forced him into this hell. They denied him the right to remain with his beloved, to follow her into the realms of harmony and to the Force. Now he would make them pay and when it was over, only then would he join her.
Soon my love… he thought in silent determination as he drew the darkness around him for what he thought would be the final time. He proceeded to unleash his hell upon them.
The wires that connected the many machines of the medical Lab suddenly broke free and sparked with life as the lights exploded one by one. The older doctor was the first to come to his senses and swiftly he moved to stop Anakin who had now risen from his bed and had long since removed the respirator.
‘You couldn’t just…leave me alone, could you?!’ Vader growled, ignoring the burning pain in his chest.
The elderly man said nothing at first as the towering form of the Sith lord glared at him. If he was fazed, it hardly showed even as he did speak. ‘Lord Vader, you were brought to me by one of your officers—’
Anakin did not care anymore and did not want to hear who deserved a slow, painful death for forcing him to live in this hell without her. Unleashing the Force with unnatural ease, Vader watched as the black tendrils wrapped around the old doctor’s throat.
The old man struggled but always managed to keep his dignity and did not bother to beg for mercy or cry out. In fact, he seemed almost content, but Vader also paid little heed to this. He wanted him dead and, within moments, the lifeless shell fell to the floor in a heap.
‘I will always be watching over you, even if you don’t need me to…’
As Anakin proceeded to unleash the dark side to butcher the entire medical staff, his thoughts became flooded with memories, snippets in time that were forever stolen from him because of his bloodlust and greed.
‘Even if you never touched the Force again, I would still love you and want to be with you.’
Between tears of despair and sorrow, Vader fully succumbed to the darkness that he wielded, hoping to find solace from the pain that was eating him alive. But to his dismay, there was no peace to be found, only the cold touch of death brought on by the lives he snuffed and the sinking feeling of shame at the memories that would not depart.
‘I don’t want to leave you—’
The Emperor was hardly fazed by his apprentice’s handiwork as her moved slowly through the mutilated or decapitated corpses and fried remains of droids. The Sith Master was well aware of his apprentice’s need to unleash his emotions and was hardly bothered by this. He did, however, sense Vader’s life was in danger and, as he entered the side room where the recently deceased were autopsied, he soon found his answer. Huddled over the still and lifeless form of Lady Vader was the normally domineering form of Lord Vader.
Gently touching her cold pale cheek and holding her lifeless hand, the broken warrior openly wept. He could still hear her soft whispers of love and smell the scent of freshly rained flowers that always lingered about her. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her smile and the way her eyes shone when she looked at him that way.
‘I’m coming home…my love…’ he murmured in barely audible tones. It hurt to breathe, let alone speak, but he did not mind. It only meant that soon, she would be in his arms again and this place, this life, would be nothing more than a memory. His eyes grew heavy and his thoughts became incoherent from the lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, Anakin felt a sharp shift in the Force as a rush of cool air filled the small room. Someone had activated the safety atmospheric controls that permitted him to breathe without the mask, should an emergency require it. His heart sank as he felt his lung fill with the cool air, leaving him to feel as though the Force was conspiring against him. With a low growl, he drew the Force around him before unleashing a Force attack that was swiftly blocked by the last person he wanted to see.
‘Lord Vader,’ said the low voice of his Master, ‘what do you hope to accomplish by killing yourself? Do you think this is really going to bring Skywalker to our side?’ The emperor drew nearer in obvious agitation.
‘How the urugal was that supposed to make him want him to come home to his family?!' Dormé's voice echoed in his mind and in silence, the Sith lord frowned and swallowed hard, cursing his emotions and the fact his master was witness to them.
‘I've served my purpose, now let me die in peace,’ Anakin replied simply not caring anymore about forcing Luke to become a Sith. In reality, this train of thought was encouraged by a small, nagging voice that left him feeling confused about the entire matter. It was as though there was a part of him that was uncertain he even wanted their son to become a Sith. Nevertheless, it was an unconscious thought for his mind was consumed with the loss of his beloved and the sorrow this brought him.
The emperor, however, was unfazed and continued as though his apprentice had not spoken. ‘We don't have time for delays. If we are to catch the boy off guard and secure his place by my side, we must act quickly.’
Anakin closed his eyes at his Master's words, struggling to keep control of his emotions. The older Sith's callous statement did not go unnoticed and the fallen Jedi felt a new rush of memories return with it.
How often had she looked forward to the hunt? How his beloved relished the rush that came with justified slaughter and the passionate lovemaking that followed in its aftermath! He knew he could not do it anymore. Without her, there was no joy. Without her, there was no peace or solace. She breathed life into him and now that she was gone, he was nothing more than a dying shadow, decaying and drowning in his own despair.
‘You don't understand. I can't do this—I can't live without her,’ he murmured in barely audible and sorrow-filled tones.
Palpatine frowned having neither the experience to relate to Vader’s sorrow, nor the patience to waste anymore time when Skywalker was just within their grasp. Though he knew Vader's time had run out, he still needed him to bring the boy and, as such, knew he had to convince this broken man to fulfil his last task. Afterwards, he could not care less what happened to the once formidable Chosen One.
‘This isn't the first time you have made such a proclamation,’ Palpatine calmly suggested. ‘You once told me you couldn't live without Padmé, yet you managed well enough without her.’ He knew Vader could find some other whore to obsess over if he wanted to.
Something within Vader snapped at the statement. Without fully realising his action, in a single fluid movement, he whirled around, grabbing hisMaster by the throat and lifting him off the ground as though he were weightless.
Caught entirely off guard, Palpatine had no time to react and soon found himself watching in concern as the room shook violently while electronics sparked and exploded all around him.
‘Dormé is not, and never will be, Padmé! You will not desecrate her memory by such comparisons!’ Vader growled in rage and despair. ‘She was my queen, my goddess, and my life! Now she is gone and you dare to demand I remain in this hell without her—’ He never did complete his thoughts, nor was he able to crush the old Sith Master's throat.
Sidious swiftly unleashed a powerful dark Force lightning attack.
Releasing his grip and flying back, Anakin did not cry out, even as he heard his ribs crack when his body slammed into a far wall. Barely conscious, Anakin saw stars dance behind his eyes and felt the room spin. Unable to fully recover from the blow, he struggled to stand, gulping air as best as his wounded and broken lung would permit.
‘Killing me will not bring her back, nor will killing yourself ensure Luke becomes a Sith,’ Palpatine concluded. His voice was filled with deadly calm as he studied his apprentice with detached interest.
Vader frowned, preparing to make another attack only to feel the powerful bolts of dark side lightning course through his wounded body once more. It took all of his willpower and pride to keep from crying out as he struggled to remain standing. But even as his thoughts scattered and the rage slipped once more slipped into despair, there lingered a sense of doubt and confusion. It was this that forced him to once more face his Master and attack him once more. It was a losing battle, he knew, and yet he could not stop himself. Though he was not conscious of the true reasons for his actions, the Sith Lord felt incredibly defensive of their son. This too was a truth that only in the end would become clear to him.
In his weakened state, his attacks were easily reflected, leaving him prey to his Master's rage, the results of which led to new scars to replace the old and new wounds that could have been avoided had he not been so determined. In the end, a defeated Vader was forced to stand down.
‘You will continue to serve me, Lord Vader. And you will bring the boy to me. There will be no more of this pathetic nonsense, understood?’ Sidious stated in cold tones as he towered over the now crumpled and almost limp form of Darth Vader.
Anakin could hear Palpatine's voice, but it sounded hollow and distant. It stung and burned at his thoughts like salt over his broken soul. He did not need to respond for his emotions were clear enough, though he would not have been able to speak if he tried.
Blood flowed freely from his mouth and his breath came out in short, pained gasps. His body burned as though the very flames of Mustafar had touched his flesh once more. Vader tried to block out the pain, to focus his thoughts on anything else, but it was fruitless. Save for Palpatine's gravely voice, there was little to distract him from it.
‘Try this again, Lord Vader, and I assure you, you will learn that there are worse things in this life than death.’
Vader could barely register the old Sith Master's words as the pain of his wounds and the sorrow of Dormé's death consumed him. But as his eyes grew heavy and the unconsciousness consumed him, one final thought remained:
You cannot kill what is already dead, nor can you can you break what is already broken.
on to chapter twenty
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