Prompt: Hideout
As Padmé wends her way back to her rooms at the palace, all six handmaidens surrounding her diligently, she finds she is very tired. She hadn't expected a funeral to have this effect, but attending Qui-Gon's has exhausted her more than the ceaseless work over the past three days. It's probably because there's nothing you can do at a funeral. No one can rule over death, not even a queen. Padmé hates it when there's nothing she can do. With hindsight, she shouldn't be surprised though. You'll always exhaust yourself more fighting battles you can't win.
Padmé wishes she could have at least done more for Qui-Gon. He wasn't even from Naboo, but he had died to protect its people. She felt everyone should be made aware of his sacrifice, and all of Naboo should have been allowed to pay their respects. The Jedi hadn't wanted that though. It wasn't their way. Qui-Gon had done his duty, and now returned to the Force. A cremation was all that was required. Padmé admires that. There is certain nobility in doing something when you know you will receive little to no recognition for it, but it doesn't alleviate Padmé's guilt. He, like so many others, had died under her orders. They may have been necessary orders, but Padmé still wants to ensure she remembers the price that was paid. She wants to count, and acknowledge every individual death as much as is possible. That is also why she would have preferred a large funeral. It was recognition that this peace comes at a price.
Sabé opens the door to the queen's bedroom and enters in. Padmé follows with five young girls trailing after, and sits on a stool in front of a large mirror. Rabé, Eirtaé, and Fé surround her, and begin taking off her headpiece, and undoing her hair. Padmé has two hours now to get changed before a quiet meal to honour Qui-Gon. Saché has gone to the large walk-in closet to retrieve the Queen's new dress, and Sabé has flopped on the bed looking as worn-out as Padmé feels. Clearly, her handmaidens feel the stress too. No one is talking, but Yané gasps.
"What is it?" Padmé asks.
"It's-it's nothing, Your Majesty." She says, but then motions Sabé to come over, as she quickly hides something behind her back. "I just...stubbed my toe!"
"Oh?" questions Eirtaé sarcastically. "Why aren't you hopping up and down then? Did you break your leg too?"
Padmé doesn't buy Yané's excuse either, not for a second.
"You needn't be quite so harsh Eri." Saché mutters as she walks back out holding a silver dress carefully in her arms. "You could just say. Pull the other one-it has ligaments."
Fé giggles, but Sabé who has been conferring with Yané in a corner turns sharply and barks,
"Stop joking. Stop laughing right now, all of you."
"What's going on?" Rabé questions calmly. Sabé turns to look at them, and Padmé notices that Sabé's face has gone as white as hers. That's really saying something considering Padmé still has her regal makeup on.
"We need an emergency meeting: Just handmaidens."
"What do you mean just handmaidens, Sabé?" Now Padmé is annoyed, and it shows in her tone. She will not be left out of discussions. What concerns her handmaidens must concern her too. She is the queen.
"Padmé it's nothing you need to be burdened with. It's just about some new rotations."
"Which will affect me." Padmé replies sternly, and places a steely gaze on her senior handmaiden. "I will not be kept uninformed."
To Padmé's right, Fé, who has always been sensitive to conflict, looks nervous. Yané, who is standing just behind Sabé, also looks intensely uncomfortable.
"Just tell her." Eirtaé adds from the queen's left. "She's right, and even if she wasn't she'd make sure she finds out anyway."
"Thank you, Eirtaé." Padmé shoots her a grateful glance, before returning to glare at Sabé.
"No kidding." Saché adds still standing in place with the dress. She folds it neatly, places it on the foot of the large bed, and sits down. She looks over at Sabé too, but as Sabé still looks torn, Saché looks over at Yané's small form instead.
"What's wrong Yané? You didn't really stub your toe now did you?"
Yané shakes her head, and looks up at Sabé who sighs.
"We think your life may be in even more danger than usual." She says slowly looking only at Padmé. "Yané found something in your room that shouldn't have been there. We need to make sure that your security isn't compromised. That is all."
"Alright." Padmé nods, "but why did Yané react the way she did? What is she hiding behind her back? It must be more than something that shouldn't be there."
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." Yané finally speaks up. "I just didn't want to worry you. I mean, you shouldn't have to live with this over your head for the next couple decades. So I thought that-"
"Decades? What do you mean decades? She's not going to be queen that long. She's the one who created the term limits!" Eirtaé shoots back.
Yané pulls her arm out from behind her back, and shows the room what's in her hand in lieu of verbal response. It is a simple purple, almost black Iris: The same flower that inspired the Naboo royal emblem. Immediately, Padmé understands what Yané's concerns were. The silent response is response enough. A dark purple iris presented to the queen has significant connotations.
"I don't understand." Fé whispers from next to her.
"Well, according to legend, every ruler presented with a purple iris has died before their thirty-sixth birthday." Rabé answers, and adds quietly, in case the point was missed. "It's a death threat."
There is a pause and the handmaidens erupt into conversation all at once.
"It's just a silly superstition."
"Of course, it is just a legend."
"Just a legend?! I'm not so sure..."
"The priority is security. All that matters is how the flower got there not what it represents!"
"But the gods have been invoked in this. The Iris symbolises their messenger, doesn't it? Vengeance could come. It's like an oath."
"It could just be a deliberate attempt to spook us. Padmé's made enemies from beating the blockade."
"Why tempt fate you mean? I'm not sure that-"
"She can't wonder for the rest of her life if she'll die young."
"That's why I didn't wanna say anything, but does anyone listen to me?"
"Well, maybe if you'd..."
"Quiet!" Padmé commanded. "It's done now. Maybe I'll die, maybe I won't. Actually, everyone dies eventually; I shan't waste my time worrying on it. Sabé's right. What we need to do now is double security. Sabé go see Captain Panaka." Sabé nodded, curtsied, and left. She still looked ashen.
"Yané?" Padmé smiled at their youngest member kindly. "Would you bring the flower here, please?"
"Yes ma'am."
Padmé took it in her left hand.
"Thank you. Now, Rabé, I want you to alter my hairstyle so that this Iris is woven in on the left side. Can you do that?"
"What!? Your Majesty, you can't be serious."
"I have to say I agree." Eirtaé chimes in. "I'm not superstitious, but Saché's right: Why tempt fate?"
"Fate has already been tempted, and if an attack does come tonight, if whoever sent this is watching, I want it known that I am not afraid. I will not be cowed."
"Well, that's brave... I mean, it might be foolish, but that's a monarch's right, I suppose." Saché says wryly from the bed where she is sitting. She motions with her hand invitingly and adds, "Come Yané. I need your help with the accessories."
Yané nods numbly, and Saché stands, wraps an arm around the shaken young girl, and leads her away. Padmé appreciates the kindness.
"Are you quite sure about this, ma'am?" Fé asks timidly.
"Yes, I am."
"She always is." Eirtaé shakes her head, and nothing more is said on the subject. Rabé just sighs and begins to comb Padmé's hair.
"Fé," Padmé has one more direction. "Could you get two Jonkils? I want them with the Iris."
"Yes, ma'am."
Padmé supposes she should be more affected. All of her handmaidens seem to be, but she really is far more concerned with who did it, and how they got in her bedroom. It must be a Nabooan, probably. Flower language is notoriously complex, and most citizens don't know much about it, beyond basics, but the purple iris is a well-known death threat. It's recorded in a lot of popular Nabooan literature. It's unlikely that an off-worlder would know about it, unless they were told. Padmé's greatest concern is that it might be the Sith. She had been told of them in the strictest of confidences by the Jedi. There might be one other left, and while they probably have no further interest in Naboo, the Jedi suspect the Trade Federation might have been allied with them, they may still want vengeance on her for this upset. Padmé does not like the idea of a Force-Sensitive, and powerful individual interfering in her rule. She likes the idea that he or she may have had inside help even less. That is what really bothers her. Her people have suffered enough. She will have to keep an eye out.
Death does not scare her though. She doesn't want to die, but there's no hideout from death. It comes for everyone. If anything, the fact that she has received a threat is proof of a job done well. Padmé feels energised from her exhaustion by this threat. It's the highest compliment she's received to date. In politics, death threats are about the only genuine compliments you might ever receive. She may as well appreciate it.
Hours later as the gathering is dying down, she thinks she couldn't have been more right. The meal had been pleasant enough, but she and Boss Nass had exchanged a lot of meaningless drivel in the name of diplomacy. While Padmé does respect him, other rulers might have ignored her plea for an alliance out of hand, she hadn't enjoyed the talk. He was a braggart. He does seem to be progressive, and forward-thinking, but Padmé also thinks he is vain. If she hadn't tickled his ego days previously, he might have let both their peoples suffer, but he'd liked her kneeling before him, and that is why he allied with her. Padmé doesn't really care that she'd had to kneel before him, but feels vanity like that is a poor trait to have in a leader. Your ruler should not be manipulated by compliments-in part because they are easily given and rarely meant. Did he really think that because she was young she was easily fooled?
"Your Majesty," a voice calls from behind her. She turns.
"Chancellor Palpatine."
"I wished to give you my regards here, Your Majesty, as I will be leaving early tomorrow for Coruscant. I feel it is best to waste no further time, as we strive to restore Naboo to her former glory."
"We thank you, Chancellor."
"Yes, yes, but I must say, you're being very bold, ma'am, wearing that particular colour in your hair. You might invoke the interest of great powers, and that is a dangerous place to be in. They may well smite you for your arrogance."
Padmé smiles with an edge.
"It would appear, Chancellor, that I have already invoked the interest of great powers, as you call them. Otherwise, I would never have received this flower in the first place. It was found on my bedspread, you see. It cannot be undone. So let us discover what a mere mortal, such as I, might be allowed to accomplish before she is struck. This does not scare me, nor cause me to falter in my ambitions, Chancellor, but rather it spurs me to greater heights. If I do have so little time left, I must be sure to wield it wisely."
"Have you no fear of death?"
"Death comes for all; it is futile to fear it. Rather, I am comforted. All heroines who have been issued such a flower in history have received it as a result of their actions. However, short my life might be, the same reason I have been threatened with premature death, is what shall immortalise me. Death is common, but to be remembered is rare."
"You are brave, girl, but I hope not foolish. History will remember you, of course, but what shall they say of you? Do tread carefully, my child. I truly could not bear to lose you."
"I thank you, Chancellor, for your concern, but I would ask that you direct your concerns into your work at the Senate. That will be the best help. Hopefully, we may create a better world."
"Indeed, we shall." He bowed. "I shall take my leave of you, Your Majesty, and I do wish you the very best to come." He leaves and his two guards follow.
Padmé self-consciously touches the three flowers in her hair, one deep purple, and two small and white. What she had not told Palpatine was that she had deliberately accepted the Iris with her left hand, and had weaved it into the left side of her hair. Few knew that the left was the negative in flower language, but Padmé did. Perhaps, it couldn't undo the vow of vengeance, but it meant that she would not accept it lying down, not without a fight, and the Jonkil flowers she had weaved in with it meant "affection returned." As far as Padmé is concerned, if she dies young as a result of this oath, the favour will be returned to the giver twice over. Padmé might accept death, but she takes nothing lying down.
A/N: 36 is a significant number on Naboo. 3 is the most stable of numbers, and one of the more powerful ones. 6 is double 3, and is the number of doors that hold back Chaos in their mythology as a result. Finally, as 3+6=9 which is the number of completion, as it has 3 3s, 36 is a good number to be. Funnily enough, when I was thinking of an appropriate number for a queen to die young, I thought 30. Then, I realised that 36 Nabooan years was 30 standard years, which is what I meant anyway, so I settled on 36. It fits Naboo's mythology better, and had much more appropriate symbolism, but also still conveyed a terribly young death. Then, I had a startling realisation, which is that it is 36 years from TPM to RoTJ. I always meant for this story to be about Padmé not taking her death lying down, but now it's even better. She dies before her thirtieth standard birthday, (before 36 years), but Palpatine also dies 36 years after threatening her: How poetic.
Just for double the fun, Luke and Leia are her Jonkil flowers, and Anakin is her Iris of vengeance. Between the three of them, and three is a powerful number, Padmé is avenged over Endor. It takes Luke and Anakin to kill Palpatine: Her vengeance is returned twice-over. Palpatine doesn't get his new apprentice, and he is killed by his old one. Double trouble. Thus, Padmé's invocation of retribution is honoured.