Chapter 8 - Varykino

The journey to the Lake Country passed in silence and Voraté counted the threads on Anakin's poncho to distract herself from the enclosed space of the transporter. A slight bump signaled they had arrived at Varykino. One of the guards entered the sequence to lower the ramp and the trio disembarked.

Voraté smiled as she heard Anakin gasp as he got his first look at the Lake Country. It truly was a sight to behold. She too had been breathless the first time she beheld the rolling green hills present in every direction, the rippling water of the lake shimmering like sapphires, and the Varykino villa glowing in the golden sunlight.

Voraté tugged Anakin's poncho to get him to move. "Come on. Let's go inside and get settled. We can appreciate the scenery later."

"Yes, my lady," Anakin said absentmindedly as he followed her, still entranced by the beauty of his surroundings.

The guards scattered as they went to their security posts and Kellan accompanied them into the villa. They set down their luggage in the entrance hall. Voraté looked around. Hadn't Queen Jamillia said that one of her handmaidens would be here?

"Hello," Someone behind them said.

Voraté's hackles rose as she recognized the voice. She drew her blaster as she whirled around and aimed it at the woman's head.

"Hey there!" The tall, muscled woman yelped, raising her hands in surrender, her green eyes widening in shock. "Don't shoot. It's me, Beleré. Don't you remember me?"

"Of course I remember you," Voraté said darkly, not wavering an inch. Unpleasant memories from the Handmaiden Trials surfaced as she gazed upon the woman. Beleré had been an insufferable bitch who had bullied all the girls, especially the younger potential handmaidens. Beleré had singled her out in particular and made a point to belittle her every step of the way. As if she hadn't had enough of that in her life. Voraté had experienced great enjoyment when she'd been chosen as a primary handmaiden and Beleré had been sent packing from the royal palace.

"Lady Voraté," Lieutenant Kellan gently said. "Beleré Darsten is Queen Jamillia's handmaiden; she's been assigned to Senator Amidala's protection detail."

"That doesn't bring me any comfort," Voraté bit out.

"Voraté, I'm sorry for the way I treated you during the Handmaiden Trials," Beleré apologized sincerely. "I was in a bad place at the time; my parents had been killed in a farming accident and I had no place to go, no way to support myself. I acted like a haughty bitch to cover up my fears and insecurities and you took the brunt of my inexcusable behavior."

Voraté lowered her blaster a little as she registered the truth in her words. Beleré had always seemed like a demon from her worst nightmares, comparable to the slavers and lowlifes on Tatooine. But now, she seemed more human.

"I don't blame you if you can never forgive me, but I hope we can put aside our differences to protect Senator Amidala." Beleré implored.

"I forgive you, Beleré," Voraté said reluctantly, lowering her blaster so it pointed at the ground.

"You do?" Beleré asked, stunned.

"Yes, I know what it's like to lose both parents to a horrible, unforeseeable tragedy. To not know what the future holds because of it." Voraté bit her lip, holding back tears. "But if you ever demean or belittle me again like you did during the Trials, I'll blow your head off."

"Understood," Beleré nodded her head in submission. She turned to Padmé. "My lady, may I be excused to perform a perimeter check?"

"Yes," Padmé nodded her permission and Beleré fled the villa.

"I'll be upstairs," Voraté muttered to Padmé and Anakin before holstering her blaster and ascending the staircase. As she reached the next floor, she heard Padmé instructing Kellan to show Anakin to his room and to provide him with the villa's security specifications and staff roster. Footsteps echoed lightly through the halls as Padmé ran up the steps after her.

"Voraté, are you okay?" Padmé fretted, her brown eyes filled with worry and compassion.

Voraté couldn't hold the tears in anymore and they streamed down her face.

"Oh," Padmé led her down the hall and into her usual room. They sat down on the bed and Voraté melted into the comforting hug Padmé gave her.

"I've always remembered her as a monster, undeserving of compassion or forgiveness," Voraté sniffled, blowing her nose on a handkerchief she found on the bedside table. "And now I find out she was exactly like me, alone and afraid. What do I do now?"

"You accept it and move on," Padmé advised. "Give her a chance to prove herself, to show us she's changed."

"Ok, I can do that," Voraté rubbed her eyes with the ends of the handkerchief and gave a watery chuckle as she saw glitter and dark blue streaks on it. "I look terrible, don't I?"

"Nah," Padmé smiled. "You still look better than I did that one time Tallé tried to apply my makeup."

Voraté giggled at that. "Anything would look better than the grinning, polka-dotted clown mask she painted on you."

"Haha, let's wash this paint off you and then we can go have a few sparring matches before dinner. There's the perfect place on the other side of the villa." Padmé tugged Voraté up and led her over to the fresher.

Brightened up by the idea of a sparring match, Voraté hurried her steps. She shed her thick blue tunic and armor, leaving her in her underthings. She'd only applied the blue makeup to her hands, forearms, face, and upper chest, so there wasn't much to wash off. The paint came off easily, even most of the glitter, to the women's surprise. The gunk in Voraté's hair was a different matter. They quickly decided it would be easier if Voraté just took a shower. Voraté discarded her clothes and hopped into the shower while Padmé exchanged her refugee clothes for a thin workout ensemble.

Fifteen minutes later, Voraté emerged, completely devoid of glitter and her hair restored to its former glory of golden brown curls. She quickly dressed in the matching workout clothes Padmé laid out for her and put her japor necklace and anklet back on. While she wound her waist-length hair into a tight bun and secured it with several elastic bands, she eyed her body armor, but ultimately decided to forgo it since they were on a secluded island. The two women giggled like little girls as they made their way to the courtyard on the other side of the villa.

"It's perfect!" Voraté exclaimed with delight. The courtyard was overlaid with a colorful mosaic pattern and there was plenty of room to move around in. It was cast in the shade by high walls and there was an enchanting view of the lake and surrounding countryside.

"Didn't I say it was so?" Padmé grinned, setting down the bag she'd brought near the wall. "I had it built after the last time we were here and Saché twisted her ankle on a loose brick on the terrace."

The ladies began their customary stretches, making sure nothing would be strained or torn during the upcoming bouts.

"Hand-to-hand combat?" Voraté suggested. "I don't want to risk using my hybrid quarterstaff. Anakin may have solved the glitching problem, but I still need to perform some tests on it."

"Don't worry, I brought an extra quarterstaff," Padmé nodded to the small bag. "We'll work our way up to that once we warm up with hand-to-hand combat."

"Sounds good," Voraté said before bringing her hands up in a fighting position; she walked around Padmé, ready to start their bout.

Padmé similarly circled her and brought up her fists. Their shoes made small taps as they traveled over the smooth, even cobblestones. Padmé lunged and swung a powerful right-handed blow at her face. Voraté deflected the blow and aimed a kick at Padmé's stomach. The woman let out a breath as Voraté's knee found its target, but she recovered quickly and returned with a series of quick blows. Voraté dodged them and threw a jab at Padmé's face. Her friend skillfully evaded it and swung her leg at Voraté in a strong side-kick. Voraté huffed as she was flung across the courtyard. As she hit the ground, she used her momentum to roll back to her feet.

"Nice one," She said, grinning at Padmé. "You've been practicing."

"Thank you," Padmé beamed. "Your knee jab is getting pretty good too. Almost winded me."

"I'll have to try harder then," Voraté remarked before flinging herself back into the fight.


An hour later, the ladies deemed Voraté the winner and moved on to using quarterstaffs. Padmé easily bested Voraté; she had definitely devoted more time to practicing with it. In fact, she was the best at it; no one could beat her, save perhaps the Jedi or Sabé.

"Ok, ok, I yield!" Voraté disengaged her staff and held her hands up in defeat, breathing hard.

"Awww, but I was winning," Padmé complained, but lowered her staff. "Good match."

"I think I've had enough for today." Voraté groaned and stretched her tender muscles.

Padmé hadn't held back; she was going to have a few bruises tomorrow. Voraté glanced up and saw a woman standing in the archway, her green eyes full of admiration as she stared at Padmé. Voraté grinned as an idea came to her.

"I'm sure Beleré would love to spar with you though." Voraté winked at Padmé.

Beleré stepped into the courtyard. "I certainly would." Her eyes glittered with excitement for a fight. "If my lady would agree to it."

"Why not?" Padmé said with a triumphant smile. "And please call me Padmé; there's no place for this 'my lady' nonsense during a fight."

"Alright, Padmé," Beleré smirked. "May I borrow your quarterstaff, Voraté?"

Voraté nodded and handed it over. "Good luck. Padmé's the best; she could hold her own against a Jedi."

Beleré swung the staff around, getting a feel for it. "Queen Jamillia prefers blasters as her weapon of choice, so we've put more emphasis on those during our training sessions." She snapped the staff into a fighting position. "But I'm sure I'll manage."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Voraté teased. "Fight!"

Beleré and Padmé swung their quarterstaffs at each other, twirling around each other in a vicious dance. Beleré was good, Voraté admitted, admiring her powerful, calculated strikes. She was using her size and strength to her advantage. Padmé had changed her fighting technique to accommodate for a taller opponent, using her diminutive stature and agility to dance in and out of range of Beleré's strikes.

Voraté twitched when a footstep sounded beside her. She looked to her left to see Anakin. He'd changed back into his Jedi attire and looked even more handsome than usual in the golden sunlight.

"Hello," Voraté greeted him, cursing as blood filled her cheeks. Damn it! Why couldn't she control her attraction to him?

"Hello," Anakin replied. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, I had a momentary lapse in control earlier," Voraté nodded. "Apparently, I still harbored some hatred for Beleré. It felt good to get it off my chest. To hear her explanation for why she treated me so harshly."

"The Jedi would say that negative emotions should be pushed away and buried deep," Anakin reasoned. "But I think repressed emotion can fester and grow into something dark. I've found it's better to let it out and deal with it."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Voraté grinned at Anakin before turning her attention to the fight.

"Do all handmaidens fight this ferociously?" Anakin asked as he beheld Beleré and Padmé. "And queens, for that matter?"

"Yes, it's an important part of our training. Handmaidens are bodyguards, the last line of defense," Voraté explained. "And all monarchs of Naboo are trained in some type of self-defense or weapon. Padmé favored the quarterstaff, so as her primary handmaidens, we became well-versed with quarterstaffs. Apparently, Queen Jamillia prefers blasters."

"Really? The Queen doesn't seem the type to pick up a blaster," Anakin remarked. "Let alone fire it at someone."

"And Padmé doesn't seem like the type to bash the hell out of her opponent with a large metal stick, yet here we are." Voraté nodded to Padmé as she landed a powerful blow Beleré barely managed to block. The force behind the strike forced her to take a knee.

"Point well made," Anakin smiled, glancing down at her.

His eyes widened as he stared at her chest.

"What?" Voraté asked, looking down. Was sweat causing her outfit to go transparent?

"You kept it," He said wonderingly, bringing his hand up to touch her necklace. The neckline of her top was low enough to expose the entirety of the japor snippet.

"Oh," Voraté blushed harder as his hand brushed against her skin. "Of course I kept it. It meant a lot to me."

"Past tense?" Anakin asked softly, staring deep into her eyes.

Voraté breathed in deeply and stepped backward. The necklace slipped from Anakin's fingers and Voraté averted her gaze and crossed her arms defensively.

"I don't think that's something we should talk about." She said. Definitely not something they should talk about. They weren't here to fall in love; they were here to protect Padmé.

Anakin opened his mouth to say something, but luckily at that moment, Beleré distracted them with a loud shout. The two looked over to the fighting women in time to see Beleré wildly fling her staff at Padmé. Padmé reflexively caught it, releasing one hand from her own staff to do so. Beleré took that moment to tackle her to the ground and use her legs to pin Padmé's arms.

"I win!" Beleré joyously trumpeted.

"You cheated!" Padmé shot back and wriggled, trying to get free. "You're not supposed to throw your weapon to your opponent."

"It worked, didn't it?" Beleré asked, tilting her head. "Admit it, I won."

"Fine, you won," Padmé huffed, but grinning all the while.

Beleré helped Padmé to her feet. "I asked the resident chef to prepare dinner. It should be ready soon. I believe he's making your favorites."

"That sounds wonderful. Let's clean up first. I'll be there in a half hour." Padmé assured her, grinning broadly. "Come on, Voraté."

Padmé collapsed the quarterstaffs and placed them in the bag. Voraté shuffled after her, grateful to get away from the awkward silence that had grown between her and Anakin.


"Oh, kriffing hell." Voraté cursed when she got out of the shower. She didn't have any clothes besides her armor and the ragged blue refugee tunic which smelled disgusting after three days of travel. She fumed about her lack of foresight as she dried her hair and wrapped a fluffy towel around her body. What was she going to do? She couldn't show up to dinner in a towel.

There came a knock at the door and Padmé peeked her head in.

"Hey, Voraté. I just received an update from Captain Typho; the healers are confident Rabé is on her way to a full recovery."

Voraté smiled and a small amount of stress lifted. "That's great, Padmé. Do they have an estimate of how long she'll have to remain in the bacta tank?"

"About one standard month." Padmé replied. She raised an eyebrow at Voraté's towel. "Are you wearing that to dinner?"

"No, I'm not." Voraté sighed. "I just realized I have nothing to wear. I didn't pack any clothes."

"What?" Padmé asked as she stepped into the room. She was dressed in a soft, flowing lilac dress and her hair was stylishly pinned up. "You didn't pack a change of clothes?"

"No," Voraté muttered, dropping her head into her hands in embarrassment.

"No worries," Padmé giggled. "You can borrow some of mine. We're the same size, after all."

She took Voraté's hand and dragged her across the hall to her room. Her wardrobe was a walk-in closet and full of fashionable clothing. She pulled a skimpy red dress from a rack and held it up.

"I'd rather go downstairs naked," Voraté said dryly, eyeing the dress with disgust.

"Ok, maybe red's not your color," Padmé admitted, chuckling.

"It's not just the color I object to," Voraté insisted as she raided Padmé's drawers for a bra and underwear. "It's the fact that there's not much material to provide sufficient coverage. It's indecent and impractical."

"That's the point," Padmé said as she rifled through the racks of clothing. "Ok, how about this one?" She held up a flowy, dark blue dress with a simple bodice.

"I like it," Voraté approved. She donned it and looked at herself in the full-length mirror near the wardrobe.

"Beautiful," Padmé said. "Anakin won't be able to take his eyes off you."

"Padmé," Voraté said exasperatedly. "I'm not wearing the dress for Anakin."

"I know, but you'll have an effect on him anyway." Padmé grinned.

Voraté started to pull her long hair up into a bun, but Padmé tugged her arms down and arranged her curls over her shoulders.

"Leave it down for once." Padmé instructed.

Voraté rolled her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror again. She did look nice, Voraté admitted to herself. It wasn't often that she had a chance to let loose and relax, to let her hair down, so to speak. She smiled and walked to the door, ignoring Padmé's chuckle. She wasn't doing this for Anakin.

She walked down the stairs and into the dining hall where Beleré and Anakin were waiting. Anakin's jaw actually dropped when he saw her, making shivers of pleasure run through her. She let a tiny smile rise to her lips.


All through dinner, Anakin could hardly tear his eyes from Voraté. She was breathtakingly beautiful in that dark blue gown and her gorgeous hair was unrestrained and flowed down her back. He'd had no idea it was so long! She was the physical embodiment of an angel. It was so different to see her in something other than her usual tightfitting clothing, which were utilitarian and body armor that implied she was unapproachable. His heart was warmed when he saw the black cord hanging around her neck. The japor snippet was tucked under the dress's collar, but that didn't matter. She still cared enough to wear it, even after he'd pried about her feelings for him with the sensitivity of a bludgeon.

After dinner, the servants carried away their plates and brought an assortment of fruits for the four to enjoy. The topic of conversation turned to Anakin and his adventures as a Jedi Padawan. He regaled the ladies with the tale of how he and Obi-wan had reclaimed a precious Kashyyyki artifact from a group of mercenaries.

"And when we finally got to the mercenaries, we went into aggressive negotiations."

"Aggressive negotiations? What's that?" Voraté asked.

"Negotiations with a lightsaber." Anakin explained. He smiled as that sent Voraté into a peal of laughter.

The ladies went to reach for another piece of fruit but halted as they watched Anakin lift a pear with the Force and guide it to his plate. He cut off three equal pieces and sent them floating to each of the women.

"Impressive, Jedi Skywalker." Beleré said as she and Padmé applauded.

"Thank you," Voraté said, catching the pear slice on the tines of her fork.

She graced Anakin with a radiant smile, making his heart skip a beat. Obi-wan wouldn't be very happy if he could see him now. But he didn't have to find out, Anakin reasoned as he cut a pear slice for himself.


A/N: Finally getting into non-canon territory! What do you think? :)