Author's Notes: This is the first in something that has spawned a series in my brain. So far it focuses around Sabé and Padmé, but I'm not COMPLETLY sure where it's going.
I've got three written so far. This is Padmé. The next is Sabé. I guess I'm just curious about whether or not they're worth continuing with. *smile*
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"Your Highness--Padmé--please--this can not be necessary."
I ignore that voice, just like I ignored the ones before. I'm sure I'll be ignoring many things in the future--might as well practice now. Practice on people who aren't going to be as hard to resist.
My finger doesn't even tremble as I press the button, standing steady and watching as the last wing of the palace crumbles into debris. There is nothing there now--the few survivors have long since been taken off world by the Jedi. There is nothing there for me--
--but I have no idea what he has left here. I can't take the chance that he has hidden more little surprises in the corners of my crumbling home. The last one nearly killed Obi-Wan--a cunning device designed to explode when it came into contact with his Force signature. The Force only knows what else is there.
"This isn't good for you. I refuse to let you endanger the children with any more temper tantrums. You're a Queen, Amidala. Start acting the part."
Now this voice is slightly harder to ignore. Turning, I face Obi-Wan, keeping my face steady as my eyes drift over his injuries. He nearly died, coming to retrieve me from the palace. He nearly died, and yet he protests my destroying what is nothing more then a death trap.
"I am acting the part." My voice sounds cold--so very cold. Have I turned from woman to monster in so little time?
No, not turned. Been turned. Forced to turn. There was nothing in the past few months that was of my devising--everything has been a counter-strike in the desperate game we're all caught up in. So much at stake--and we have only just now found out that we are playing.
"The palace is destroyed," Obi-Wan snaps. "You are leaving the planet. Now." There is no room for discussion in his voice--it is the voice of the General. A voice that is used to being obeyed without thought.
I'm hardly one of his mindless soldiers. I can see the disapproving look that Sabé is giving him--my Sabé, my friend, still with me even now that we are fugitives on the run. She is still so touchy of my rank--a foolish indulgence that I allow her even in these times. It is the least I can do for someone who has given to me without thought for all of my life.
"I will leave when I am ready," I reply, voice steady. I can't tear my eyes away from the sight of my city--my home--lying in shambles.
My hand is on my knife before even Obi-Wan can stop me. A few moments later and my thick braid lies at my feet, newly cut hair abrading the soft skin of my cheek as Sabé cries out.
Shoving the knife back into it's sheathe I reach into my tunic pocket. There is something else that must be left behind--something else that no longer belongs to me. Pulling the long, thin blonde braid out I toss it next to mine, turning on my heel and walking off without a backwards look. The two braids lie there, dark and light, twined together. Symbols of two people who no longer exist. Amidala is dead. So is Anakin. Now there is only Padmé--
--and the Lord of the Dark.
And I will be damned if I let him destroy any more.
As I walk towards my ship my hand falls to my abdomen. It's only obvious to those who know me--and only with the help of the Force do I know that I bear twins. Twins who will be of the light.
The only pity is that I will not be there to see them grow. There is only one person who has a chance of stopping him. He has taught me to shield from the Jedi--little did he know that one day I would turn his teachings on him.
Obi-Wan has overruled me. Panaka has forbidden it. Sabé will not speak to me if I bring it up.
But it is not their mistake to rectify. The mistake belongs to me, and to him.
No, not Anakin.
To him.
My eyes drift out over the remains of the palace as I stare out the window of the ship. It is in the atrium that I always see him--it is as if he is always visible to me. I used to try to talk to him, but the effort is too great for him to make himself heard to me. Still, I can always see him--see the sadness in his eyes, the pain in his face. He is too tied to this earth to let go--too tied to the past. To the mistakes he made.
He is there now, mournful eyes staring at me. One of his hands is stretched towards Obi-Wan, whether the gesture is in supplication or need, I know not. I think that it is an unconscious gesture, the body he no longer has responding as the young man he once loved walks away.
Only Obi-Wan will not see him, can not see him. Maybe has never seen him.
It hurts them both--but I think the sight of the other just out of reach would hurt more. For both of them.
Qui-Gon fades away as we leave, as if it was only our presence that tied him to the palace. Now there is no one--no life left on the planet that was once a home of art and culture and beauty and love. It is a dead planet, a ghost planet.
As the ship takes off, dragging me away from the planet that I let be destroyed, I make a promise to the ghost of a Jedi Master. I will fix our mistake. We put too much faith in a young boy--we believed blindly.
I will not let the abomination walk the galaxy.
My hand drifts to my stomach again. It will be a year, maybe a little more, before it will be safe to let them go. The girl will go with Sabé to a court somewhere. A decoy so long, she will play my part one last time. She will play princess, play mother to my daughter. The loyalty she bears for me will convince her to do as I ask, even as it breaks her heart.
Obi-Wan will take my son. Not out of loyalty, but out of guilt. He feels that he has failed the galaxy--if only I could tell him that the mistake was not his. It was made many years ago, made when an aging Jedi put too much trust in a guileless face. Made when a young queen fell in love with a handsome boy.
Obi-Wan will take my son, Sabé will take my daughter. And I will take the galaxy in my hands, lead it up from the ashes. The mistake I made will not go to waste.
And as I watched Naboo disappear from the viewscreen, I started the Rebellion.