Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or anything else you recognize. Except for Barivume monkeys…I think I made those up!
This chapter is kind of quick and not too in-depth because I wanted to get the wedding over with. The next few chapters should be more...slow paced (?) or whatever, I guess. And probably longer too.
Also, sorry for the delay, the holidays coupled with a temporary loss of memory stick will do that to you. Please R&R!
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When Padmé was younger, she and her friend Talma liked to make up stories about brave heroines who faced dangerous monsters and lived to tell about it, or about lonely princesses who found their true loves and changed the universe. Padmé and Talma never called them fairy tales though; instead, they called them survival stories. The girls made such stories up to get them through bad times. Survival stories were created when parents argued, when friends landed themselves in the medical center, or, more commonly for the young girls, when they had to endure a boring day at school. Though she was much older now, Padmé decided that she needed a survival story of sorts to get her through the day. So she let her mind wander as the seamstresses around her measured, poked, pulled, and prodded the fabric of her wedding dress.
In her mind, Padmé was safe at home. She was writing a simple letter to her old friend, telling her of the plans for her upcoming wedding. She was marrying a handsome and kind man from a far-off planet. They'd met while traveling and it had been love at first sight. He'd come from a poor background, but it didn't matter because…
"Ouch!" a sharp pin-prick in her thigh pulled Padmé from her daydream. She looked down at the dark haired woman who'd stabbed her.
"Sorry, milady," the woman murmured between pins held in her mouth. As the seamstress continued on with her work, Padmé let her mind drift again. This time, though, she couldn't conjure up some fantasy or silly scenario to hold her attention. Now, all she could think about was what was going to happen the day after tomorrow. She'd already been briefed on what to say if anyone from the press tried to question her—"No comment." She knew how the wedding was going to unfold, what they'd be saying and doing. Padmé wasn't overly worried about those things; instead she was worried about what would come after. That night. Though she was twenty-three, Padmé had almost no experience in the realm of relationships, physical or otherwise. Palo had been her first and only boyfriend, and the most they had ever done was share a quick peck on the lips once in the while. Padmé didn't feel ready for anything else; especially not with someone she didn't know. Especially not with someone she didn't like. She tried her best to push those thoughts aside; she had told herself before that she didn't have a choice. Her rational mind told her again that she had to be brave and carry on, but her subconscious knew things weren't going to be so easy.
"All finished! Why don't you have a look in the mirror?" another of the seamstresses asked, her voice too loud for the small room.
"Thank you," Padmé replied, grateful for the distraction from her thoughts. She turned to look in the full-length mirror behind her. The wedding dress was absolutely stunning. It was pure white, simple, but adorned with lace in all the right places. It was long and flowing, but somehow managed not to swallow up Padmé's petite frame. "It's beautiful," she said, reaching to run her hand across the fabric.
"Hands off!" The woman who had pricked Padmé snapped, reaching to grab her hand and stop it. "You'll mess it up. The dress is not completely finished—we've just got the modifications pinned up right now. You need to take it off and we should be able to have it ready for your final fitting tomorrow morning."
"I'm sorry," Padmé replied, her face heating up. She had felt like a misfit all week, forced to spend time with stuffy people and listen to things that made almost no sense to her. It was embarrassing.
"I will escort you back to your quarters now," another woman said, "so you need to get out of the dress." They helped her wiggle out of the wedding dress and put her simple dress from home back on. Padmé was grateful for the familiarity of it.
She spent the rest of the day alone, doing nothing more than failing to get interested in the shows on holovision and pining for home.
---Wedding Day---
"Mistress Padmé!" a mechanical voice called from somewhere near Padmé's ear. She was awake, but didn't want to admit it, for today was her wedding day. She closed her eyes tighter against the realization and soaked in the feeling of her pillow beneath her cheek. If only she could go back to last night, her wedding would still be thirteen hours away. She could sleep and dream and escape from reality, if only for a little while longer. "Mistress Padmé!" the voice tried again. Padmé knew it was the clumsy droid, C-3PO. He had become something of her alarm clock during the past week, but she didn't mind. It seemed to her that the protocol droid was the only friendly being in the entire palace. She hadn't seen Vader since their talk in his quarters, but the members of his staff, while polite, weren't exactly welcome-wagon material. They bossed and talked and informed, but nothing more. "Oh dear!" the dejected droid sighed at seeing Padmé still tucked under the covers.
"I'm awake," she grumbled.
"Oh thank the Maker!" he cried, joints clanking.
---Two Hours Later---
Padmé was escorted to the massive ballroom in which her wedding was to take place. There were some chairs set up at one end, three rows of six, split in the middle to make room for a small aisle. Two photographers stood behind the rows, cameras held at the ready. Padmé vaguely recognized some of the people occupying the seats from her debriefings-of-sorts over the past few days, but the only 'guest' she could actually name was Emperor Palpatine. He sat in the far left front chair, looking stiff and unaffected. The other guests were whispering and looking almost like normal wedding guests should look. Padmé felt a sudden pang of anger that her family couldn't be invited. Security reasons, one of the advisors had told her, but Padmé thought otherwise. Thinking of her family made her wonder if any of the people she didn't recognize could be Vader's family, parents even. Someone gave birth to Darth Vader, Padmé realized, but the thought still felt strange in her mind.
The Sith lord himself was standing in the front of the room, next to a well-dressed holy man. He was wearing his suit and mask, which came as no surprise. Their wedding wouldn't include the traditional "kiss the bride" directive, and for this Padmé was grateful.
No music played as she walked down the aisle, though her pounding heart provided a simple beat for her to step to. Padmé kept her mind blank as she walked, one foot in front of the other. If she didn't, surely she would bolt from the room.
It felt as if days had passed by the time Padmé reached her groom. Vader stood ramrod-still as Padmé stood in front of him. She turned toward the holy man, trying her best not to look up into Vader's mask, despite her sudden urge to do just that. What are you thinking? Padmé thought. Do you feel anything at all about this? Tears threatened to make their appearance, but Padmé managed to stifle them. If she started crying and ruined the wedding holos, they'd just have to do it all over again.
The holy man began to speak, but Padmé couldn't pay enough attention to understand what he was saying. It was all she could do to stay on her feet. She felt very hot all of a sudden, and instead of willing herself not to cry, Padmé found herself trying not to sweat. It didn't do much good, but it gave her something to focus on.
"I do," Vader's deep voice brought Padmé's attention back to the moment. She was supposed to have said it along with him. That, at least, she remembered.
"I do," she whispered quickly, hoping her second's delay would go unnoticed. The holy man resumed speaking, and Padmé sighed in relief. They wouldn't exchange rings or anything of the sort, so she knew that the ceremony was coming to an end.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the holy man said, stepping back. Cameras flashed, and Padmé felt a strong hand around her upper arm. It was Vader. He pulled her closer to him and she managed to bare her teeth at the cameras, squinting into their bright flashes.
"Could you try to look less like a Barivume monkey and more like a human being?" one of the cameramen hissed.
"Sorry," Padmé whispered, trying to smile more naturally. Unfortunately, the effort had the opposite effect. Tears began to slide down Padmé's cheeks and there was nothing she could do to stop them. More than any other time in her life, Padmé just wanted to go home. She lifted a shaking hand to her eyes and tried to wipe away the tears, but they just wouldn't stop.
"Great!" the cameraman fumed. "We need to start over. Where is the makeup artist?" The thought of doing everything again only made Padmé cry harder, the parody of a wedding was making her sick. She'd thought it wouldn't bother her, but she was very wrong. Some of the people in the audience made soothing sounds, others grunts of annoyance, but Padmé didn't care what they thought. Vader didn't move, his hand was still locked around Padmé's arm.
After a few seconds, a woman with a box of tissues and a palette of makeup approached Padmé, who cringed. The woman used brute force when applying makeup; Padmé's skin already felt bruised from the first application. Luckily, the woman didn't have time to do more than reach out with a tissue before Padmé was jerked out of her grasp.
"Enough," Vader boomed, looking towards the emperor for approval. "You have more than enough holos to release to the press."
"You're right, my friend," Palpatine replied with a wave of his hand. "Take your bride and go, I will wrap things up here."
"Thank you, my master," Vader replied, bowing. He was still gripping Padmé's arm and she could no longer feel anything below her elbow. She felt the sudden urge to start crying anew, though she couldn't explain why. Vader pulled her along behind him, out into a long hallway. She could hear cameras still flashing behind them.
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To be continued. I wasn't sure whether to end this chapter here or not, but I think it would have been too long if I hadn't. I hope this didn't seem too rushed or confusing to anyone. Things should get more exciting in the next chapter. Please review.
