Chapter Text
Twilight descended upon the capital region of Coruscant. Overhead, the sky grew dark while the glimmering lights below cast a glow upon the horizon that would not be snuffed even by the darkest of nights. It was a time of day that held a particular magic all across the surface levels of the ecumenopolis, capturing the imaginations of many an artist over the centuries.
There was, however, one individual it had continually failed to charm.
On a balcony somewhere between the city and the sky, the dark figure of Darth Vader loomed, arms folded across his chest, scowling down at the bustle below. He had only recently returned home, but already he’d grown annoyed at the politics and bureaucracy plaguing the capital. Certainly, his routine return to the Imperial Palace brought him joy – it was the home of his family, after all – but it seemed, far too often, that some circumstance or another would crop up and keep them apart for longer than he wished.
In this particular instance, his wife and children were occupied in their preparations for a high-class ball. The event would be seen by the entire galaxy, naturally, and serve to officially present the twins to the galaxy as the Imperial Heirs. Of course, the galaxy was not unaware of the children by any means. Despite Vader’s protests, their birth had been highly publicized, placing them in the spotlight he’d hoped to keep them from. Unfortunately, it seemed they were meant for the limelight, since his children had captured the hearts and imaginations of the public right from the start.
The royal Prince and Princess… Who were they? What were they like? What sorts of interests did they have? What stake did they have in this Empire? Who would they wed?
He despised the gossip. Each of these questions awakened a deep-seated rage within Vader when they reached his ears, particularly that last one. His children had only just reached their tenth birthday, the matter of marriage was still plenty far off, no matter how many would ask the question. It was enough that they were formally stepping out into the public eye – despite how well-known they’d been up until this point – but it would be too much for their personal lives to become idle gossip among the masses.
“You’re brooding again, Ani.”
His Angel did not share his concerns.
She stepped just beyond the doorway between the balcony and their bedroom, clad in nothing but a simple robe that would drape over her lithe form until it came time for her to be adorned in a suitably extravagant gown for the evening. Offering him her most brilliant and charming grin, Padmé glided forward and placed her hands on his arm. Slender fingers curled around the armour covering the singed flesh of his left shoulder and tricep, and though it did not ease his worry in and of itself, he did feel the barest hint of tension diffuse from his body.
“I do not brood,” he insisted in futile protest, but carried on with this story anyhow. “My personal preparation for an evening such as this do not measure up to those of you and the children. I shall select a more suitable cape, in due time, but for the moment I am merely observing the state of the city and the Force before tonight’s… festivities commence.”
A light chuckle rang in his wife’s throat, a soft tinkling bell that produced the most melodic of sounds, the most pleasing of tones he could think of, and something within him fluttered in a way that almost elevated his mood. “Dearest,” she said, voice stern as an empress’ should be, yet somehow maintaining an airiness that spoke of familiarity, “you know full well I can see right through that bantha poodoo. What’s going on, really?”
Avoiding her gaze, Vader allowed several cycles of his respirator to count the seconds before a static crackle escaped, signifying a sigh. Padmé instantly shifted her position to stand directly in front of him, resting her hands on his shoulders. A spark remained within her eyes, light and amused, but it was dimmed by concern. Following moment of standing just so, she adopted a sad smile and placed a single hand on his mask. Though he could not sense it with his body, he knew through the Force that she was tracing its angular details with her thumb.
“The children will be fine, my love.”
Padmé never ceased to amaze him. Even without the Force, she could sense precisely what it was that bothered him at any given time. Her unerring faith in the twins’ ability to avoid trouble was concerning, to be certain, but she also maintained an unshakeable faith in him, and that was perhaps the thing that had kept him stable throughout all of these years. In return, Vader offered his own love as strongly as he could muster, and he’d yet to be let down. Perhaps he was simply searching for omens where there were none. Perhaps he was projecting an overly concerned paternal air where it was unnecessary.
Or, perhaps, he simply did not want all his family to become consumed with political intrigue, leaving him behind to tend to military matters alone…
Whatever the case, he had to admit that his wife’s conviction had soothed his unease, somewhat.
Allowing another sigh to crackle through the vocoder, he brought one heavy, gloved hand to the back of her head, weaving his gloved fingers through her hair. With as delicate a touch as he could manage, Vader began to trace Padmé’s cheekbone in a reflection of the gentle caress she had given him moments before. “You sound so certain, Angel.”
However tender this moment, it could not ward off the mischievous glimmer that entered thedeep, earthy eyes staring up at him. “Oh, but I am. Do you not trust Luke and Leia to survive this night unharmed?”
His shoulders stiffened and, though he knew she could not see his expression, Vader glowered. “It is not the twins I do not trust. It is the rest of the galaxy that concerns me – and the harm that may befall our children, should others seek to commit it against them. They are still young. They should not be subjected to this manner of exposure.”
Pulling away, Padmé met his gaze with a chilling precision that was only ever matched by Luke and Leia. She maintained that eye contact for several seconds that seemed to stretch on forever, and the world kickstarted itself back into gear as she turned and stepped towards the railing of the balcony. Leaning over it, she stared out at the glimmering lights below. “I understand, Ani,” she said softly, voice carried to his ears through the wind and his own enhanced sensory systems. “I would be lying if I claimed not to share your concerns. But you must remember, these are our children we’re talking about.”
“Perhaps that is… a factor that is contributing to my apprehension.”
Several slow, purposeful strides brought him to his wife’s side. Placing one mechanical hand on the railing just next to hers, Vader permitted himself to drink in her presence and proximity, simply allowing her very being to wash over him for a second before sliding his prosthetic over her slender fingers and grasping them within his. Her warmth against his glove was faint, but he savoured it nonetheless.
Padmé leaned against him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Oh, come now, you remember what we were like when we were young. You cannot tell me you ever considered the twins to be destined for any sort of life that one could consider… ordinary.”
Was that what he wished for them? Vader could never consider his children ordinary, by any means, but neither could he say that he had ever desired their lives to mirror those of their parents. Looking back, he considered the positions of power held by himself and his wife all those years ago to be ill-suited to the people they were at that time. Though the experiences helped shape the leaders they had become in their adulthood, they’d both been forced to learn in that manner due to their lack of competent teachers. The twins had their parents, who had lived through the strife once before and could pass down their wisdom without subjecting any other innocents to what they had endured, as well as other carefully selected tutors who could instruct them on the more intricate workings of the galaxy. At the same time, however, those formative years had built the galaxy’s ruling couple into who they were today, so perhaps there was some benefit to such an experience.
Whatever the case, a bad feeling was brewing within Vader, and it set his teeth on edge.
In the end, he chose not to burden his wife with the full extent of his uncertainty; instead, he chose deflection, knowing full well that she would see through him but choose to play along anyways. “No. Surely they are not. However… I do not believe the galaxy is prepared for the whirlwind the two of them may bring down upon it.” Though he forced the modulated voice to adopt a tone as light and breezy as possible, there was a significance behind those words that Vader could not shake. Perhaps Padmé would not notice, despite the weight he could feel descending upon himself.
Electricity crackled through the air for a split second, rending the Force into something that could nearly be considered a shatterpoint. It lasted so briefly that anyone could be forgiven for thinking it an error of their perception, but Vader did not make such errors. He felt something pass through him, a flutter of some sort of premonition, and he could sense his wife pick up on it too. His own interpretation formed instantly in his mind, but it seemed to do much the same in Padmé’s as well.
“For better or worse, my dear,” she insisted, “this evening will be grandiose and momentous. The children will be fine, of that I am certain, and… whatever state the galaxy may be in when we wake tomorrow, it will still be ours.”
Despite her inability to consciously harness it, the Force had always flowed readily through Padmé. Her capabilities differed from his own, but he’d always been inclined to trust her, no matter how reluctant he may be.
“Very well,” Vader conceded. “Let us proceed with the preparations. The twins will be anxious for our presence before their debut.”
Padmé clearly sensed the reluctance in Vader’s voice as he ground out the words, but she beamed at him regardless. The crackling in the atmosphere did not lie; tonight would indeed be momentous. All that remained to be seen was whether the shift would be for better or for worse.