A pang of guilt, so raw and rare that it took him aback; sucking the breath out of his synthetic lungs. Like a flash of lightning from an clear blue sky, it struck full force and ignited an irrational rage alongside the smoldering hurt.
The princess’ face as she was restrained - stricken and solemn, taking her last farewell of the man she loved - morphed into Padmé’s.
Before his inner vision, Anakin was tormented by the memory of his angel as she told him the same words the princess had just declared to Solo
‘I love you’, the princess blurted out.
‘I love you,’ Padmé had desperately cried.
Expressive, fierce brown eyes glassy, brimming with unshed tears. Disheveled dark hair framing a pretty yet unbreakable face; and the resemblance was uncanny.
Solo’s reply was a smiple ‘I know’, but his usual swagger and scoundrel attitude was long gone; replaced by fear of death and a love burning as brightly as the princess’ did.
Solo had no need to reciprocate the words, the meaning behind what he had uttered was just as clear. Still, he was brave and held his head high; sparing the princess any further suffering.
How Anakin wished he had possessed the same courage when he still had a choice, how he wished he hadn’t destroyed his beloved angel and clipped her wings.
‘Liar’, he had called her - his last word to her.
Then, as Solo fade to nothingness and the princess buried her face against the wookie’s chest to weep - Anakin pushed the reminder aside. He numbed the pain, and locked the guilt within his furnace heart until it burned to ashes. He knew the relief was only temporary, and he would never be rid of Padmé’s ghost.
The irony was not lost on him.
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