Author's note: A huge thank you to Cariel for beta reading this for me! =D

Also please note this fic takes place in the universe of Cariel and my tale 'Empire'.

The sight of her silent silhouette resting in the middle of the nursery was something he never forget for as long as he lived. It was a heartbreaking image that would haunt his dreams and just about every time he closed his eyes.

The room was dark and silent. There were no sounds of children’s laughter, no playful shouts of younglings caught up in their games, or little voices singing songs their ama often sang to them. If silence could kill, Anakin knew he would have died. But as his eyes settled upon the still form of the empress, his beloved goddess, Vader knew it was killing her.

Clad in a crimson gown, the young empress sat alone, perfectly still as though she were frozen in time. All around her petite silhouette rested a variety of children’s toys, some bought, and others handmade. The nursery once so filled with life and joy was now empty, a silent testament of all they desired, but could never have.

The Skywalkers, now known as Lord and Lady Vader, were the proud rulers of the galaxy‘s largest empire. They had respect, credits, and power to spare. Born a prince, Anakin once believed that he deserved to have his every wish fulfilled; he was royalty after all. If he couldn’t have it, it was because he had to fight for it, to show them his superiority. But after seeing their many subjects so happy and fulfilled with their families, Vader couldn’t help but feel as though they, despite all their riches, were in reality the paupers in a society of princes.

Approaching his beloved’s still form, his thoughts once more drifted back to her physician’s terrible news and the even more terrifying warning. This was their third baby they had lost, their third lost blessing, and the third time their dreams had been shattered.

You need to be careful, Your Highness. The empress has been through so much already, both in body and in spirit. I don’t think she will be able to survive another— The old man didn’t need to finish his sentence; the meaning of his words was clear enough. Never in his life had Anakin felt so empty or helpless as he did in that moment.

They were so certain that their little girl was going to make it that Anakin had begun to build her nursery. Dormé too had begun to make her a blanket. They had even decided to name their daughter Aené. Now like their other birth children, little Aené had returned to the Force. Not even all the medical technology and advancements in medicine could save their little girl. She was a blessing that had been so cruelly stolen away.

Dormé didn’t respond as Anakin knelt beside her nor did she seem to notice when his arms slipped around her petite waist. He tried to ignore how small she felt in his arms or the fact he could feel her bones more than her soft flesh through her gown. The young emperor wasn’t bothered by her lack of response, only his inability to comfort her. When she was like this, which happened more than he wanted to admit, Anakin felt as though there was nothing he could do to reach her. But how many times could one say we’re going to get through it before the words no longer had meaning? How many times could one tell themselves that everything was going to be all right and still believe it?

I don’t think she will be able to survive another… The doctor’s words replayed in his mind, forcing Anakin’s grip around Dormé to instinctively tighten.

Quietly, he swallowed the massive lump that had formed in his throat before kissing her brow. As much as he wanted to shout and curse the Force, the galaxy, even the goddess, Anakin knew Dormé didn’t need his anger. She didn’t need his sorrow or his guilt either.

His fingers ran through her dark hair while his other hand gently rubbed her back. Anakin didn’t bother to ask about their adopted children who were orphans of war; it wasn’t necessary. This too had been brought to his attention by one of the empress’s handmaidens and security personnel. They informed him that the children had been sent away and were now being placed into loving homes. Vader didn’t know what broke his heart more, the fact he would never see their little ones again or that Dormé felt she wasn’t deserving enough to raise them.

“You are all that I need, Dormé—please stay with me—please don’t let go—I’m nothing, nothing at all without you.” The words escaped him before he even had the chance to register what he was saying. Though it sounded weak and fearful, Anakin meant every word.

Slowly, Dormé raised her head, causing her amber orbs to meet his blue eyes. Holding his gaze, Dormé’s eyes wavered as they filled with unshed tears. Despite the evident sorrow them, there was a fire in her eyes too, reminding Anakin that there was hope yet. Somehow, they would find a way.

Her hands slipped around his waist, causing Anakin to realize just how much he needed to hold her, to feel the weight of her brow on his shoulder as she leaned against him. Holding her near, Anakin tried to block out his own emotions as Dormé succumbed to the weight of her sorrow and loss.

Holding onto Anakin tightly, the petite woman’s body shook as she sobbed. It was as though her heart were breaking into two.

Holding her close, Anakin felt as though he were the only thing left standing between Dormé and the storm that threatened to consume her. Vader wondered if this was how she felt when the weight of his duties, as king, Chosen One, Jedi and Sith, had consumed him. In the past, Anakin had always been the one in need of emotional strength. Dormé had always been the stronger one, the one who shouldered him throughout the storm that had become his life.

Now the time had come for him to be her strength; an honour he would gladly forego if it meant she would know joy once more. Anakin could only hope and pray that he had the strength necessary to carry her through the storm. If he failed, Dormé would perish, and he too would become lost.