Padmé Naberrie

By Serena Kenobi

Summary: Padmé, a young handmaiden, finds herself working for a gruff, harsh, mysterious man – Anakin Skywalker. But Skywalker holds a secret – a secret that he's determined to keep from her at all costs. But when he, and consequently Padme, fall under a string of vicious, strange attacks, Padmé begins to suspect that Anakin is hiding something – something important. And that secret could destroy their happiness and future together. Based on Jane Eyre.

Author's Note: This story is based on the 2006 BBC presentation of Jane Eyre. If you've read Jane Eyre or have seen other versions, you really need to see this version. It's the best!! Plus, Toby Stephens makes a SPECTACULAR Rochester...

Disclaimer: Me no own Star Wars or Jane Eyre. You no sue me.

Prologue

She was daydreaming again. Falling into her own little world – a world where she felt no pain, suffering, or anger, a world where she was not trampled on and treated no better than a servant, a world where she was loved.

Padmé shut her eyes and leaned back into the cushion of the window seat, her small hands curling around her holobook, its "page" open to a picture of Coruscant. As she began to wish that she could leave her current residence, she fell asleep…

She was standing on a stone balcony. Marble columns rose on either side of her, and as she looked off the balcony, she saw a vast lake surrounded by tall, lush-looking mountains. An orange, pink, yellow, and salmon sunset filled the sky, and the sun was just passing behind one of the mountains.

"Padmé."

She turned - when had she become taller? – and locked gazes with a pair of stormy blue eyes. Before she knew it, she was smiling.

"You're here." Her voice was different, older.

The pair of blue eyes was set into a chiseled, darker tan face of a man, a man dressed in dark clothes. At his belt hung a gleaming lightsaber. "Of course I am." His voice was a deep baritone, and she felt herself shivering, as it seemed to pass through her entire body. But instead of growing cold, she seemed to become warm. "I wouldn't forget our anniversary."

She felt herself smile wider. "I love you."

He smiled as well. "I love you, too." He drew closer, and his eyes darkened. "Padmé…"

"You! Girl!"

Padmé's eyes flew open, and she cried out as a hand lashed out and snatched her curly brown hair, throwing her to the floor. The holobook dropped to the ground, forgotten. Padmé's eyes widened as her cousin Jas stood over her, grinning evilly.

"Well, well, Padmé has been reading the books again without permission, has she?" He sneered. "Don't know why, though, cause you're so stupid!" He lunged for the book and hit her hard across the face, sending her sprawling back to the floor.

Padmé's eyes flashed in anger. "You piece of sithspit!" She screamed. "I hate you!" She darted up to her feet and began punching him as fast and hard as her small form would allow.

Jas gasped in shock. "Mama!" He shouted, angrily. "Padmé's punching me, the wild animal! Make her stop!" His two sisters hurried into the room just as Padmé rushed past them, tears running down her face. "Did you see her, the little brat?" Jas snarled.

Eirtaé and Rabé nodded, though they really hadn't. "We must tell Mama, immediately!" They both crowed simultaneously.

Padmé tried to run up to her room, but two servants dragged her away to her aunt, who stared at her coldly.

"Take her to the tower."

Padmé gasped and squirmed all the harder, screaming, "No! NO! Not the tower! Please! Please, I'll be good! Not the tower!" But it was no use. She was tossed into the tall, dark, tower at the top of the mansion; and Padmé shut her eyes, trying to block out the darkness. But because she easily became claustrophobic, it wasn't long before she lunged for the door and frantically tried to open it, yelling, "Let me out! Please, let me out! I'll be good!"

No one came.

The next morning, Padmé was sleepily pulled out of bed and ordered to put on her finest clothes. She was shoved into the great parlor, and, as she rubbed her eyes, saw her aunt and a stranger standing over her.

"I have tried my hardest," her aunt was whispering to the man, "but she is impossible. You have no idea how hard I have tried. The child has the dark side in her."

The man, who was tall, grim, and stiff, looked at Padmé. "Come here," he ordered sharply.

Padmé did so, and stared up at him with large brown eyes.

"What is your name, girl?"

"Padmé Naberrie, sir."

The man looked her over disdainfully. "Your aunt tells me that you are a liar, Padmé Naberrie. Is this true?"

Padmé's eyes connected with her aunt's, and she knew that her aunt was daring to say something rude. Finally, Padmé said, "I am not a liar. My cousins are the liars."

"Does that also mean your aunt is a liar?" The man raised a dark eyebrow.

Padmé swallowed. "Yes," she whispered.

Her aunt gasped; and the man glared at her. "Your aunt has decided to send you to school," he said. "You will leave immediately."

"Good," Padmé said shortly, "better school than this Hoth-hole." She turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

That day, she was taken to Highwind Academy, a place for charity girls and orphans. She was shown to her bed, which was in a large room with many other girls approximately her age; and she climbed in, pulling the covers over her. To her right, a girl with bright red hair was lying, and large green eyes stared right at Padmé.

"Hello," Padmé whispered.

The girl smiled. "Hello."

"I'm Padmé. Who are you?"

The other girl's piercing green eyes locked with hers. "Leia," she whispered back. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too," Padme replied.

The girl shut her eyes, sleepily. "We'll talk in the morning." She then turned over on her side.

Padmé sighed and stared up at the ceiling. But her dampened spirits were now higher. She might actually have a friend here.

It seemed only minutes later, but a shrill ring awoke Padmé, and she bolted upright, soft brown curls falling in front of her face. She was only given a second to jump out of bed and rush along with the other girls to wash their faces and hands. It was incredibly cold, and she was shivering. After a very poor breakfast of only a piece of shuura fruit and stale, dried bread and water, they were ushered into the main hall, where the stranger - Padmé had learned earlier that his name was Mr. Brockel – stood on the podium in the center of the room and opened his mouth to speak. But as his icy gaze fell on Padmé, he smiled evilly and said, "Ah, yes. Padmé Naberrie. Step forward."

Padmé, confused, did so.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you all this, but Padmé Naberrie is a liar. And all liars should be shunned by their peers. Therefore, you will not speak or associate in any way with Padmé. Now, stand on the stool before me, Padmé." When she had done so, he continued, "You will stay there until midnight, and you won't drink, eat, or speak to anyone. You need to learn your lesson." He left the podium, and Padmé stared after him in disbelief, her anger boiling inside. Who was he to tell everyone lies about her?

He's the liar! She fumed, her eyes burning into the back of his head as he left the room. One day… one day, he'll pay for this. I'll learn everything I can so I can become powerful enough to tell him what to do. I'll make sure no child is ever treated like this again!

That's only the prologue. The rest will be in Padme's POV. Now, this story will differ just a tad from Jane Eyre, as I must make correct changes as to stay in Star Wars mood. So review, and see what happens next!

I know, I know. I have a ton of other stories, most which are Ani/Padme. They just go so well together! The plot bunnies just keep attacking me!

MtFbwy,

-Serena Kenobi