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Dormé hadn’t said anything further about Anakin’s last slaughter of younglings and she knew he wasn’t about to bring it up. The first two years of Runa’s life, he was constantly off on missions to find a solution to his problem and had thus far not been able to find one. She did not suggest the one solution she knew would work, for she knew how stubborn Anakin was. As much as she wanted to mention his brother, she knew he wouldn’t speak with him. Obi-Wan had saved Laic’s life and, unbeknownst to the royal couple, prevented Anakin from unwittingly draining their son of his Force abilities.
Every night he was home, Dormé fell asleep in his arms, but it was not as it was before. The space between them had only worsened with time. If only she knew that there was a third person in their bed, a dark mistress whose poison embedded deep within her husband. She wondered if he knew there were nights when he was fast asleep and she would silently weep. The tears were for him, for their children...but also for what was between them that she didn’t know how to mend.
Two years after Anakin single-handedly ended the Humbarine conflict, those opposing the decisions made by the emperor and empress had grown significantly in number. There were fewer donations made to the charities founded by the empress. This year, at their little princess’s memorial, the gifts and flowers left outside the gates were sparse. Dormé knew something had to be done. This deliberate sign of animosity, especially against Aené, who hardly deserved such treatment, was the final straw.
But unlike her husband, violence was not her immediate reaction. Instead, she went the formal route. Calling an impromptu meeting of the senate, she publicly apologised for the way the Humbarine conflict was resolved. She also denounced the emperor’s grave error in the murder of countless younglings. However, this apology was too late and even Dormé could tell by the senate’s reaction that while her intentions to mend this unrest were in good will, it was too little too late. The damage this caused their empire had already been done. The public’s faith in their leaders was on the brink of annihilation.
Not receiving a single bow or nod in her direction as she stood to leave the senate building, fear coursed through Dormé. She knew she ought to object and demand they pay her the respect she was due. Nevertheless, Dormé took the high ground. With noble bearing and posture, she turned and left the building without saying a single word.
It was not until she returned to the sanctuary of their private chambers that she gave in to her emotions. Covering her mouth, she tried to withhold her tears, but it was futile. Ripping off her diadem and tossing it, along with her costly silk shawl, to the floor, she cried. Everything was falling apart and there was nothing she could do about it.
Once her tears subsided, she drew herself up once again, knowing she needed to be strong for her children. It wouldn’t do to have them see her like this. Entering the playroom Laic and Runa were in along with an elderly handmaiden, Dormé requested she leave before embracing Laic and Runa.
Laic looked at his ama oddly, while Runa just babbled happily. Laic gave her a kiss, knowing it made him feel better when Ama kissed him.
Laic’s kiss had the right effect and soon Dormé was kissing him back and holding him close. ‘I’ll never let anything happen to you. Do you understand? I love you both more than anything in the universe, more than this empire…’
Runa made faces and giggled, while Laic nodded silently and hugged her.
‘You’re a father, Anakin, and a husband. It’s time for you to grow up.’
Night after night, whether away from Coruscant or in the arms of his beloved, Anakin’s eyes would snap open in the middle of the night, leaving him to stare at the ceiling as his thoughts warred with him. Often, his restless and haunting thoughts proved to be too much, forcing Anakin to slip out of the comforts of their bed. Clad in only his pyjama bottoms, Vader often departed from their private chambers and headed outside onto the balcony.
On his way, the young father paused to peek in on Laic and Runa, who like their ama, rested peacefully. Their children used to rest in the same bed as their parents, but now slept in their own rooms, which constantly reminded Anakin every time he was home that he caused this rift. It also reminded him of his lack of control and the fact he had once more slaughtered innocent children. It flooded his thoughts with shame and self-disgust, thus adding to his insomnia. Every time he left the rooms where their children slept, he felt like the dark creatures that he believed lived under his cot when he was a youngling. As a grown man, Anakin had come to realize that there were far more frightening things in this universe than legends and myths. Looking back now, the Sith Lord almost wished that life was as simple as the tales he had grown up with. At least in the stories he heard as a boy, the hero never second guessed his actions and always ended up saving the day one way or another. There were never any inner demons to contend with, no doubts or questioning of decisions made as the hero always knew what to do and when to do it. If only he could say the same of himself.
In the early days that preceded his decision to follow the path of the dark side, Anakin felt as though the darkness within him was a disease, one that he hoped and presumed would eventually fade away. It didn’t and over time, Anakin began to realize that in reality the darkness wasn’t a disease at all, but a gift. The light was just too weak for him and while there was and would always be a part of him that still longed to embrace it, Vader knew it wasn’t the path he was meant to follow.
Now that strange, ugly feeling returned once more, leaving Anakin questioning his decisions. Perhaps he shouldn’t have killed off the Supreme Chancellor. After all, he was the only one who knew enough about the dark side to help him stop the vicious cycle that he now found himself in. Then again, Anakin knew if he hadn’t removed Palpatine, it was certain his brother would no longer be living. Vader furrowed his brow to the memory of Obi-Wan and felt his heart sink further as his shame grew. Once more, he found himself missing his brother’s presence, longing for a past he had thrown away in his pursuit to fulfil his destiny.
Now it seemed the more Anakin tried to cling onto his destiny, the greater the price to keep it became. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. Vader wrapped his arms around himself as though he were trying to protect himself from an unseeing threat, or more exactly, trying to keep that threat within lest it escape and truly destroy all that he loved and cherished. Suddenly he couldn’t help but wonder just who was the master? The dark side or himself? The answer never came and in reality, Anakin wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
It was first time in years that the young Sith Lord found himself growing afraid of who he was and what he was becoming—had become. It wasn’t the first time Anakin was forced to admit he had monstrous tendencies, neither was it the first time he found himself struggling to find answers for his questionable behaviour. It was, however, the first time Anakin realized that he had no more excuses left or reasons to deny the truth he had known for some time. He had truly become the very thing he despised: a butcher of children, a nightmarish monster who played the façade of a man who had earned the right to call himself a husband and father.
This evening, Anakin slipped out to the solitude of the balcony long before their children were asleep. Anakin took a seat on the edge of the semi-circle couches that overlooked the cityscape. As always, it was incredibly uncomfortable, leaving him in neither a position where he was seated, nor quite standing up. It kept his thoughts focused and in a roundabout way reminded him of his current situation.
Oftentimes, he resorted to playing soft music to distract his thoughts. While he knew the ultimately the music was nothing more than a cheap distraction for his troubled thoughts, it gave him the one thing he desperately sought—a means of escape. And with distraction came the lies of the dark side. He would remind himself that it was his destiny to embrace the dark side, that because of it, he was able to not only bring peace to the empire, but also protect his family. He would remind himself that it had all been an accident and that if he was careful, it was certain to never happen again. He would convince himself that all he needed to do was to train in the dark side and be mindful of his limits when using it. The young Sith Lord even, at one point, decided he would try to find another who was familiar with the dark side, if not for anything than for insight that would aid him in mastering his skills.
Even now, a soft voice nagging in the back of his mind, reminding him that there could be no good ending to any of this, Anakin was far too lost in the darkness to register it. Convinced of his thoughts and of the poisoned lies of the darkness, the Sith Lord shrugged off his doubts and concerns while reminding himself that it was nothing more than fruitless paranoia. The fears of before were unfounded after all and it wasn’t as if their children would ever learn of their daddy’s mistakes. After All of the witnesses were dead and he knew Dormé certainly wouldn’t talk about it, neither would Kei if he valued his life. In time, with much training and care, Anakin knew he would truly master his powers. Soon all of this would become nothing more than a bad memory, one that would fade with time. While such denial worked in his favour for a little while, it never lasted.
Anakin began pacing while his fingers played with the drawstrings of his pyjama pants. He almost didn’t want to return indoors, to fall asleep in his wife’s arms, knowing he would only end up out here alone. They always resolved what small arguments they had before going to bed, but even so, he couldn’t help worrying about what would be said this time. The way their people treated Dormé, their empress, in the senate…
In the early years, the young emperor had watched their empire grow and blossom under both Dormé and his care. Now it seemed he was watching it all slowly unravel before his very eyes. Ever since his actions against the Humbarine rebels, it seemed everyone and anyone was turning their sights against the Empire. Normally he would have been more than pleased to bring them to justice, to ensure that no more would dare to challenge the peace Dormé and he wanted to bestow upon them. As of late Anakin found himself growing weary of it all. If he was honest with himself, the Sith Lord would have realized it wasn’t just the many wars that was making him weary. In truth, it was the constant and ever growing need to use the darkness—to gain some semblance of control over it.
Before the Humbarine conflict his dark side usage was regular but in limited amounts for prolonged use would lead to the inevitable black outs. But after committing his crimes on the colonies, the Sith Lord began to go out of his way to find a means of controlling his powers. However, with very few trained force sensitives left alive it was hard to find anyone who could understand his plight, nevermind be trained enough to help. Desperate, but too ashamed to seek out his brother, Anakin fell back onto the habits of old, increased training meant increased control and durability. He went out of his way to use the darkness as much and as often as he could seeking a means to gain some sense of control—anything that would ensure their children’s life—nor any other youngling's life—would be at risk while in his presence.
The harder Anakin trained and attempted to channel the dark side, the worst the effects became and the more he needed to use it. Soon his name began to spread terror to both enemies and allies alike, while the soft whispers speaking of the Emperor’s madness and evil continued to spread like wild fire. While most cowered beneath him, there were others who continued to fight, and despite the great losses, their numbers began to grow. But this meant nothing to the Sith Lord whose heart was no longer into the war, the battle or anything to do with the empire. His thoughts had now turned to matters that were more personal and with it came a sense of despair he had never known. His family was falling apart and Anakin felt helpless to do anything to save it.
It was as though he was standing on one side of an unseeing great wall and his entire family was on the other. Though neither Dormé nor he spoke of it, Anakin knew the wall did not come to be until after his admittance. Another shuddering sigh escaped his lips as he forced himself to choke back a whimper. Even now, the distance between them continued to grow despite their silent attempts to bridge things. There were some nights when Anakin would awaken from the nightmares to find his chest wet with tears—not his own. Other nights it was his tears that soaked Dormé’s long hair.
As he opened his eyes to stare back at the well-lit night sky, Anakin couldn’t help the tears that trickled down his cheeks. Never in his life did he ever feel more alone, or more fearful of the future. The empire meant little to him now when compared to the situation of his family. While they pretended that everything was as it should be too much distance had passed between them. Leaving Anakin to dread and fear the day when he would awaken and find Dormé and their children gone. Though it was hardly Dormé’s style with the darkness whispering poisoned lies into his mind anything was believable. Biting his lip to the thought Anakin fought back the tears only to feel his legs giving way from under him. Sliding to the floor with only the balcony’s railing as his support the Sith Lord finally succumbed to his sorrow and began to weep.
She put Laic and Runa to bed, but Runa was more reluctant than her brother. She kept asking for her daddy. She left saying that she would ask him, but not to count on it. Laic never asked for his daddy and even told Dormé that he was afraid of him, despite her reassurances that he shouldn’t be, that his daddy loved him.
Folding her arms around herself, she went to find Anakin and saw him on the balcony. It made her heart ache for him, but didn’t think he wanted or needed her comfort. If it weren’t for Runa’s request, she wouldn’t have approached. ‘Anakin,’ she murmured. ‘It’s Runa—she’s asking for you.’
Too lost in thoughts of sorrow and guilt the Sith Lord barely registered Dormé’s presence until she was practically by his side. Looking up quickly—as his head was buried in his hands—Anakin felt his cheeks burn as he quickly glanced away feeling ashamed that she had been witness to his tears. Part of him longed to hold her close, to beg forgiveness for everything that now stood between them, to just forget the past and start anew. But nothing was that easy or that simple and so with a shaky sigh the Sith Lord glanced back at Dormé taking in her words and feeling another rush of guilt upon hearing them.
Anakin couldn’t remember the last time he thought of their daughter without feeling both concern and fear for her. Unlike Laic, the little princess was emotional and always seemed to be troubled. Yet none of the physicians could ever understand the reasons behind her colic. But once she outgrew this phase, any relief Vader could have found in it was short lived as a new fear took hold. The little princess’s Force signature, though vibrant, was pale compared to their son’s. Though he expressed his concerns to Dormé, the empress did not known how to ease his concerns. This too became just one of many things walled up between them. In his need to deny the truth, Anakin began to avoid the little toddler so as not to face the fact that he had failed her. Anakin tried to focus his attention on Laic in the hopes that their son would learn the basics of his Force sensitivity, as though somehow believing by ensuring their son was fully trained would erase what their daughter lacked.
Laic, however, felt differently and in time, Vader realized that their son wasn’t just uncomfortable to be around him, but was downright frightened. Though he knew it was an impossibility, as his mindblocks wouldn’t permit such a possibility, the Sith Lord unable to find another reason believed the young prince knew of his father’s shame and was frightened by it. Soon afterward, Anakin took to avoiding Laic as well. Now Runa was requesting his presence and as much as he was longed to see her, the Sith Lord was hesitant, for facing their daughter meant facing the truth. It also meant facing the fact that something had to be done and that there was only one person who would be able to answer the questions he sought, yet feared to hear.
As his blue eyes studied Dormé’s amber orbs, Anakin felt as though he was reading volumes within them. Though no words could express how he felt in that moment he was certain she knew for her expression said it all and it took all of his willpower not to crumple underneath her powerful gaze. But he had to be strong, to keep it together, and so with a soft sigh and shy nod, the Sith Lord quickly wiped his eyes and rose to his feet.
Dormé couldn’t help but feel as though it were somehow her fault for everything. That perhaps it was her fault that Laic was afraid to be around Anakin and whatever was wrong with Runa’s Force signature was from her. While it frustrated her that Anakin was so often away from home, she also knew the reasons for it, at least in her own mind. She thought he was getting help with his problems and improving. She thought with great hope each time he returned to her that this would all be behind them. But each time, there remained only a feeling of dread that everything was on the precipice of falling apart. It would be easy to blame Anakin’s absences for the reason why Laic didn’t want to be around him or blame his absences on the fact Runa was cried so much. Despite the love he proclaimed to have for the children, it didn’t come through in actions and this was another reason she was reluctant to tell him of Runa’s request. What time Anakin did have, he wanted to spend it with Laic, though this became increasingly minimal if at all. Dormé wondered if he regretted his words from before, that he wanted to have a large family. And then Dormé strained to remember the last time he touched her outside of falling asleep in her arms.
Ignoring the fact his cheeks burned from the shame of being caught so openly weeping—though it never bothered him before—Anakin prepared to return inside. In spite of the walls between them, something within stirred and without a second thought Vader in an almost desperate fashion reached out with his un-augmented hand to grasp Dormé’s left hand. It was a simple gesture and yet one he felt almost fearful to do as though she might reject it for reasons he couldn’t blame her for feeling.
As though sensing her thoughts, he grasped her hand. She couldn’t help linking her hand with his and squeezing it as though all the trials were forgotten and everything was as it should be once again...as though he still loved her. The reassurance was lost on Dormé though.
Feeling her hand in his—squeezing it in reassurance—Anakin felt new tears coming to his eyes and for a moment, he couldn’t move. Closing his eyes briefly, the Sith Lord struggled to calm his the turmoil of his thoughts and of the shame they encouraged. How such a simple gesture could make him feel so unworthy, Anakin couldn’t say, but in that moment, he felt as though the empress was a goddess and he but a mere mortal who had done nothing to deserve her mercy. In reality, he knew he hadn’t done anything to deserve anything but rejection and scorn yet he couldn’t stop himself from clinging to this simple gesture as though it had the power to save him from himself.
His hand within hers began to shake as the emotions began to resurface once more. But now was not the time and as he squeezed her hand back, the Sith Lord quietly followed Dormé to where their daughter eagerly awaited his presence. Anakin couldn’t resist a smile at the sight of Runa and the obvious joy as she called out to him. It had been too long and despite the fact he knew he wasn’t deserving of this, the Sith Lord was too weak to resist either. Barely able to keep his emotions under some semblance of control—as it wouldn’t do to have Runa see her daddy breakdown—Anakin kissed her good-night and pulled her into a hug to which the youngling happily returned. Tucking her in, the Sith Lord tried not to think of the past though the memories now haunted him with a vengeance reminding him of the monster he had become, how he was even worse than any nightmare a child could imagine.
Watching them bid each other goodnight left Dormé feeling incredibly torn. She didn’t know if she was getting Runa’s hopes up by believing her daddy loved her and would always be there for her. She couldn’t promise that, for there were so many nights when he wasn’t there. If she doubted his love, what’s to say he didn’t want and love this family they had so longed for?
The entire time, Anakin felt as though he was the on the verge of completely falling apart. It was almost too easy to forget the troubles of recent, of his failing struggle and of the growing disillusionment felt by their subject. In truth, he wanted to forget about it all, to lose himself in that moment where he was nothing more than a father and a husband. But then the memories of his actions returned and with it came the overwhelming shame leaving him hesitant to accept Runa’s innocent love for her Daddy. But the need to bask in any and all affection from his family was too much to resist and so he remained. Wishing her a goodnight, he fought back more tears as Runa did her best to say good-night to him as well. The love that radiated from their daughter couldn’t be missed and it tore at his heart, making him wish he could just turn back time to the way things were before.
‘Laic’s already asleep,’ Dormé murmured as they closed the door to the nursery. Now it was just the two of them once more and Dormé felt like they were a million light-years apart.
Dormé’s words were hardly surprising for Anakin had long since grown used to Laic either being asleep or pretending to be asleep when he would come to his room to tuck him in. In the end, the Sith Lord learnt to just leave their son alone as it was what Laic seemed to want. Glancing to his wife, the young emperor gave a slight nod before studying her in pained silence. Though she knew him better than he knew himself, Anakin felt as though they were complete strangers now. Feeling as though he were caught in some unseeing storm Anakin silently pulled her into a tight and almost desperate hug as he closed his eyes and furrowed his brow.
It took Dormé a second to respond to Anakin’s desperate hug. After their brief row over the senate speech, she thought they were teetering towards separation and it was the last thing she wanted, even if he didn’t love her anymore.
‘What is happening to us?’ he whispered in desperation though deep down already know and dreading the answer.
His question rung in the air, growing thick between them. ‘I don’t know, Anakin,’ she replied. ‘There was a time when we didn’t have to say anything and we knew each other’s minds. Now it feels like the harder we try, the murkier the words become.’
Dormé’s hesitancy tore at his heart and in turn caused him to tighten his embrace, feeling as though something was trying to tear him away from her. Though the truth hurt, the fact they were finally speaking it gave Vader a sense of hope that hadn’t been there before. ‘I know, I don’t know how it happened or when but it feels like everything is falling apart. I wish I knew what to do to fix it,’ he whispered in pained tones, though this too was answer he knew deep down if only he’d listen.
She exhaled a shaky breath, trying to hold herself together, to find comfort in his tight embrace, the embrace that once was a sanctuary. ‘Do you regret this, Anakin? Do you regret us?’ she asked, referring to herself and to the children. She didn’t dare ask the truly weighted question that hung heavily in her mind: Do you even love me anymore?
He had become so lost in his own turmoil and struggles that Anakin had forgotten and lost sight of the fact his family too was being hurt by his absence. That while he believed they were better without his presence they in turn felt the same way about him. The Sith Lord could no longer contain his tears and, drawing back slightly to place his hands to Dormé’s cheeks, he shook his head. ‘Of course not. Oh Force, Dormé, you and our children are the only things that matter to me anymore. I—’ Anakin faltered then as he bit his lip knowing now how his actions had only encouraged such doubts.
Anakin said what he had said before, that they meant so much to him. But Dormé didn’t know if she could believe that anymore, especially after the way he had been deserting them. How could she know she could count on him in the future? Even though they had been fighting, they had finally begun talking again, really talking and now they were facing the truth: that something was wrong between them. But she needed to know, not for her own heart, but for the sake of their children, if he truly wanted them to leave.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been the father our children deserve, or the husband you deserve. It just seems the more I try to improve, the worst I become and I—’ he couldn’t finish his statement as the tears turned to silent sobs. ‘I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve our family. I don’t deserve any of this!’ he murmured between sobs. ‘I know what I am, Dormé. Believe me, I know, and that is why I tried to stay away. No monster deserves such happiness and yet I’m too much of a coward to leave. I can’t leave. I need you—all of you too much,’ he admitted in sorrowful tones. ‘I need all of you because I love you too much not too...’ he whispered as he clung onto her tightly while burying his face in her dark hair feeling as if only in her arms could forgiveness be found.
He apologised for his actions, attempting to explain them in such a way that only confused her. He said he was undeserving, but needed them, that he was too much of a coward to leave. Did that mean she would have to be the strong one? That she would have to leave him? What spoke to her was the sorrow and desperation, but most of all the words she had not heard in such a long time. It filled her eyes with tears. As he buried his face in her hair, clinging to her, she reached up to run a hand through his hair which in times past bore his Padawan braid. Her fingers twisted around the hair there as she closed her eyes, relishing this moment as though she too realised whatever was between them was filtering away. No one would hold claim over him except for her. No Jedi, no Sith, no politicians...Anakin Skywalker, Vader, known by whatever name, he as a man without titles of any sort, was Dormé’s.
As Dormé’s fingers slipped into his hair, a soft whimper escaped his lips as his embrace tightened around her. How he had missed the solace found in her arms, the way his beloved could make him forget about his troubles with a mere smile and a caress of her fingers in his hair. But the unseeing wall that had separated them for so long was finally beginning to fall apart and for the first time in what felt like an eternity the young emperor felt as though they were finally able to connect again.
Lightly brushing her nose against his cheek, she whispered fervently, ‘Oh my love...how I have missed you.’
The Sith Lord softly murmured his agreement before once more begging forgiveness for being absent for so long, and for failing her and their family. As his own fingers played with the ends of her long hair, Anakin felt a new sense of determination, bred from the hope he found in this moment. Though he was loathed to do it, the young emperor knew if there was to be any future for his family he would have to once more turn to the past and seek help from the one person he had cast away out of his need for the darkness. Vader’s desire to speak to Obi-Wan was hardly about tending to his own problem, rather that of their daughter, whose lack of sensitivity to the Force was a concern to him. ‘I’m going to contact my brother in the morning,’ he whispered after a long pause.
Dormé bit her lip, trying hard to contain her emotions. She held him close, feeling her heartbeat returning to normal as the anxiety filtered away.
As much as he didn’t want to speak to Obi-Wan the Sith Lord knew there could be no denying it now. He was the only one who would be able to properly help and despite the fact that it meant facing answers Anakin knew he didn’t want to hear, if it meant things could repair with his family he would do whatever was necessary. Though it shamed him to think that it was only now that he was taking Dormé’s advice—another reminder of how bad things had become—the emperor did his best not to dwell on it.
At the mention of his brother, she pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes once more. She knew how much of a struggle it was for him, but he was finally taking her advice. She had mentioned Obi-Wan over a year ago. Dormé just hoped the Jedi Master would respond to his brother’s request. He had no reason to after the way they’ve treated him. She nodded in agreement to his words. She didn’t believe that Runa’s Force sensitivity was an issue, but was also concerned if it affected her health. But even more so, she wasn’t about to object, as the Jedi Master’s presence helped Anakin once before. She hoped he would agree to come.
‘I want him to examine Runa, to learn what is the reason for her lack of Force sensitivity and if there is any hope or way for her to regain it. Afterwards—’ he faltered then as he gave a deep sigh. ‘I’ll speak to him about my own complications. I know he’s only going to want me turn down my title as Sith Lord, but any advice he can offer, is better than none at all,’ Anakin admitted quietly. He had yet to register that he was once more the cause of it all. Her silent agreement aided in his relief though Vader knew she wouldn’t reject it as it was her idea in the first place.
Dormé touched his cheek, saying, ‘I want you to know that the titles are not important to me. Nor are they important to our family.’ She kissed his other cheek.
The words resonated deep within him. Anakin was both humbled and touched. Her kiss too spoke volumes, leaving him feeling as though for the first time in too long, he was back on the right path again. He missed the way they never had to wear masks around each other and how Dormé could disarm him with a mere glance. It seemed like an eternity since he last felt as though he was comfortable in his own skin around her.
‘I hope he will respond to your message.’
Her final words sent a chill of concern down his spine and pulled his thoughts to the present. She was right. Given how Anakin treated his brother in the past and his descent back into darkness, Obi-Wan had no reason to return to Coruscant. Glancing away, the Sith Lord bit his lip as he nodded weakly in reply. ‘I hope he does too,’ he murmured.