Fortress Vader

Thirty-three - Penitence

Life is what happens when you're busy focusing on eye color.
Year 7

——————

Vader
The next morning

I stayed awake the entire night. I cleaned us up, put my clothes on her before tucking her into my bed, then sat next to her and let it all replay from the beginning.

I hadn't anticipated the type of fear threatening her beloved Anakin would actually cause. I have felt her various emotions toward me as Vader, but the loyalty had always been there.

But I watched that loyalty crack. It almost hesitated at first, like a chipped corner. And then, as she comprehended my threat, the crack split straight through, fracturing her loyalty completely. She's never had to truly choose between the two versions of me. I thought she would choose Vader. I was wrong, so very wrong.

The feelings of fear and hatred that rolled off her weren't ones I'd felt from her before, and something inside me cracked with it. I knew what it meant because I'd felt the emotions before.

The woman loves me. Part of me, at least.

The moment Obi-Wan told Padmé she needed to leave me alone, we got married. He made us choose.

And I made Kitten choose.

I should have seen this coming.

When I can no longer handle the silence, I tear open my curtains and let the morning sun begin to seep inside my quarters. Unable to remain idle, I trudge into the kitchen and start making food for the first time in the Force knows how long.

———

Kat

The first thing I understand when I wake up is the sun on my skin. I can't remember the last time it happened...It is warm, even as the light chill of the air kisses my arms and neck. I am drained of life, but so at peace.

Am I dreaming? I must be. It can't be my bed. I do not hear the people bustling outside my room. My pillow and bed are certainly not this comfy. Oh, and the sheets. I let out a tiny sound of pleasure and spread my limbs, enjoying the silk all around me. I don't know what type of silk it is, but it is genuinely divine.

Perhaps it isn't a dream. Maybe I'm dead. The afterlife is sunny and silky.

Ah, but no. I'm alive, this much becomes clear when pain pierces my head. It fades quickly to a dull thrumming, but at least I'm not dead.

My body hurts when I shift between the sheets, but oh my stars, I am content. I must have woken up as someone else. I must be a senator in their beautiful holiday home...someone's cooking breakfast...

I moan another sound at my latest revelation. It smells so fucking good. Like bacon, fresh laundry, and Anakin. Oh, please don't ever make me leave this bed. Whatever gods there are, hear my prayer...

"Keep that up, Kitten. I dare you."

My eyes snap open at the dark threat, reality slamming back into me.

"Fuck," I seethe as I sit up through the pain.

Oh god, no. I squeeze my head with both hands, hiding from the sun and willing my memories to be false.

But they aren't. And while I am so angry with him I'm already shaking, that isn't it. That isn't what I think is breaking me.

He doesn't care about me. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to keep this up as long as he did. And I tried to fucking stop him from getting soft and gentle with me, because damnit! I knew I was falling for him.