AN: If you haven't seen The Phantom of the Opera yet then turn around, get yourself to a theatre and watch it!!! If you have seen it, this is the graveyard scene with the lyrics changed a bit to fit the situation better. Not beta'd. If there are major errors, bring them to my attention, I'll correct. Song lyrics in bold.
Disclaimer: Yeah not mine. George, you need to spread the wealth! Same to you Andrew!
Padmé approached the simple grave hesitantly. There was no body beneath the black headstone. Obi-Wan had said the lava destroyed her husband, and Padmé believed him. Still, she could not help but feel that something was different about this pilgrimage to her husband's memorial. Tears gathered in her eyes as she wished fervently that Anakin were here. He would have known what to do, what this feeling was.
Wandering wife so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance . . .
The words floated on the air, a half heard melody that calmed her restless spirit as only Anakin could. A melody bubbled up from deep inside her. She continued her slow approach to the grave, her voice ringing through the frost and solitude of the graveyard in winter. Angel or Husband, Friend or Phantom, who is it there staring? Her eyes went immediately to the black giant that shared the cemetery with her. The loud rush of air through his respirator was drowned in the deafening chords of a music only they could hear. But above even the ethereal chords rang a silence that Padmé longed more than anything to fill. Often the black-masked stranger met her here, his very presence echoing that of the one who would never return until she was certain it was the same presence.
Have I forgotten my Angel? The notes came in part to her mind, in part to her ears. They cascaded, like ripples on the soul's lake when memory finally breaks the glassy barrier. For the first time, the midnight mask approached her. A few steps and then stop. Padmé gasped as she saw that this was Vader, the Emperor's Henchman. Yet even with his cruel record, the titan before her could not seem to be anything more than a man, and a very confused man at that. In the harmonics of his voice, Padmé heard Anakin's soft tenor and prayed to every god that could hear that the mask before her hid the beloved face.
Angel, O speak, what endless longings echo in this whisper! Padmé entranced moved away from her husband's grave toward the miracle she longed from the man before her. Was it really him? Had Anakin finally returned to her? A shiver ran up her spine at the joyous thought, only to die prematurely as she considered the possibility that Vader had overshadowed the man she loved was still overshadowing him.
Black gauntlets grasped her shoulders, shredding the shields Obi-Wan had taught her to weave about her mind. The mental caress eased her fears as much as the hypnotic words flowing with unexpected grace from the expressionless mask. Too long I've wandered in winter. Far from the Light I have strayed . . . Disorienting in its swiftness, the mental probe began tearing through her memories, reviewing her pregnancy in minute detail, searching for a glimpse of his child.
Padmé struggled for all she was worth, but the hands on her shoulders refused to move and the mind raking through hers did not hear her plea to stop. Wildly my mind beats against you. . . .
You resist . . . She could hear the smug tone in Vader's, she would not think of him as Anakin, siren song changing to triumph as she dragged her last memory of Luke to the forefront of her mind, hiding her other secret beneath the glow her son's name.
. . . yet the soul obeys!
The grip on her upper arms reached bruising force as Vader sang with studied contempt. Angel of Music! You denied me, turning from true beauty! Vader released her forcing her back a few paces. She could almost hear the pleading in his voice as he continued his appeal, now bereft of anger. Angel of Music! Do not shun me . . . come to me, strange Angel!
Padmé sang her confession at the same time. Angel of Music! I denied you for turning from true beauty! She had to make him understand why she had left. That his dark moods frightened her and his black looks made her fear for the safety of her children. In her mind she saw Anakin trapped in the durasteel cage that Vader called a body. She sang to her husband, trying to make the connection. Angel of Music! My protector . . . come to your strange Angel! She held out her arms, willing Anakin to run into them like he always did. Vader did not move.
The sepulcher song burst around her, filled with the malice of decades alone. I am your Angel of Music . . . come to me, Angel of Music . . . The tones rumbled through her mind paralyzing any will but the will to obey that dark command. Unseeing, uncaring she followed as Vader led her through the graveyard.
"No! Padmé wait!" A warm body crashed into her, the familiar accent grating in her ear. "Padmé, whatever you believe, this man . . . this thing is not your husband!"
AN: Review please? puppy dog eyes