Chapter Eleven:
Padmé sat unobserved in a balcony seat overlooking the room in which the three trainees were currently attending their class. The three young women Padmé had been unknowingly having an interview all morning.
The black-haired girl was quick and calm, but she lacked the finesse Padmé knew would be useful. She was too brash overall, and not the right choice.
Then there was the blonde, who though she was obviously intelligent and swift to learn, was also far too quiet. She observed, but when asked a question was not quick or sure enough to answer in a timely fashion. Again, not a fit for Padmé's plans.
The third girl on the other hand... Padmé was drawn to her more and more with each successive task presented to her. She was an odd girl, certainly, with her apple-red hair and deeply green eyes. In Padmé's mind she wasn't all that beautiful, but what the girl lacked in looks she more than made up for in brawn and brains.
Because though she was shorter and more unassuming than her classmates, there was just something about her that caused her to be tough enough to handle stress.
She had a perfect gambler's face, Padmé had finally decided. She got stressed and frightened like the other girls, but unlike her classmates, this red head could work it out independently and without letting fear hamper her to the point of failure.
She answered questions when asked, even if the responses were wrong. And, Padmé noted, if she was corrected she took it in stride. She did her tasks quietly, efficiently and with just a touch of her own personality subtly thrown in to the mix to make her less boring than her counterparts.
Padmé made her decision and left the balcony to wait by the door for the girls to come out. On a whim, she hid herself in a doorway and waited for the small group to pass her by. The black and blond haired girls moved by first, then the instructor, and Padmé waited a few more minutes to be presented with the view of the red head finally coming out also.
Padmé stepped out behind her and spoke to the girl's back. "That was pretty impressive."
The girl whirled, eyes going wide once they landed upon her Empress. The young woman instantly bowed low, face towards the floor. "Your Highness."
Padmé walked around the stooped figure without acknowledging her for the moment, studying her up close. The girl remained in her bowed position since she'd not been given permission to rise, and Padmé let her stay that way.
"How ever did you end up in my handmaiden program?" Padmé wondered aloud after a time, unimpressed with this girl's appearance. This close, she was decidedly... plain, boring.
"I... applied, Majesty," the girl replied, confused. Only after she had spoken did she realize that the question had been rhetorical, and she dipped slightly lower. "My apologies Majesty, I spoke out of turn."
"Yes." Padmé sniffed. "Rise."
The girl did so and kept her gaze just below Padmé's as was the rule for handmaidens. Only when given permission to do so were they allowed to look their Empress in the eye.
"What is your name?" Padmé finally asked.
"Damielle Krin, Majesty." The girl briefly dipped her head again.
"And you are from..."
"Ah, I was born and raised on Tatooine, Milady," Damielle replied, taken aback somewhat.
"Tatooine?" Padmé sniffed in disdain. "Well, at least your taste in locations has improved."
Something flashed across the young lady's face and Padmé lifted a brow, even as Damielle braved speaking her next words. "Did you need something, Your Highness?"
Padmé's mood cooled some, but she willed away her anger in exchange for a greater goal. "Consider yourself accepted into the program." Damielle's surprise was palpable, and Padmé continued before the girl could ask inane questions. "Congratulations: you've just graduated. Come with me, I have a job for you."
Damielle, to her credit, only sputtered for a few seconds before she regrouped and fell in line. "Yes, Your Majesty."
They passed her classmates on the way out, both of which allowed their jaws to drop upon seeing Damielle with the Empress, in line like an accepted handmaiden should be. Padmé ignored the other girls, though Damielle exchanged a look with them before the duo was out of view.
Padmé led Damielle to a waiting speeder and gestured for her to be seated for the ride home. Damielle rode with Padmé in silence, and once they arrived, Padmé motioned to one of her own handmaidens.
"Prepare her for my daughter," Padmé instructed. "But find clothing different from what I have you wear. My handmaidens will not be confused with anyone else's." Padmé considered. "Have her wear something... green."
"Yes, Milady," the older handmaiden answered, bowing low as she took the red head back to the servants' quarters to prepare her accordingly.
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Damielle couldn't help but let her eyes roam just a little as she took in the personal quarters of the Empress herself. They were lavish in every sense of the word, and though the servants' areas weren't nearly as ornate, they weren't plain either. It was probably to keep up with the aesthetic appearances, and not detract from the Empress's home. Everyone knew Empress Vader took great pride in appearances, and made every effort to flaunt her wealth and beauty.
"What does she want me for, again?" Damielle asked the woman before her. "The Empress doesn't seem to like me all that well, and Princess Leia has never been known to use handmaidens."
"The Empress has her reasons, I am sure," was the reply. "You will do best to simply go along with whatever she asks of you."
The woman gestured to a refresher and Damielle understood she was to clean up. She dutifully stripped down and stepped into the shower to begin cleaning up. She was handed supplies to use and did so without question, knowing that she was being prepared for her assignment to Princess Leia.
Empress Vader would not present an unworthy handmaiden to her daughter, Damielle knew.
Once she was done washing up, Damielle stood in the refresher to dry off while the other sized her up.
"What is your name?" Damielle asked to fill in the silence and help calm her nerves.
"I am Irmé," was the response.
"How long have you worked for Her Majesty?"
"Long enough to know she doesn't like it when we dawdle," Irmé answered pointedly. "The Lady does not like to be kept waiting."
Damielle dipped her head submissively and allowed the other to begin dressing her up. Her gown was simple but elegant, and in a shade of green that resembled the skin of a cactus. It had a few white faded accents along the sleeves and hem, but was otherwise unadorned.
Next, her hair was brushed and styled for her into a braid that was then wrapped about the crown of her head and pinned in place. Then the girl had makeup applied and then a spritz of perfume to her wrist.
Damielle hated the scent but knew better than to object, so she held her tongue. Finally, simple heels were given to her to wear and Damielle was allowed to view herself in a mirror. She thought she could have done without the body spray, but other than that the look wasn't too bad. She supposed it could have been worse. Far worse.
Finally, Irmé led Damielle back to where the Empress had made herself comfortable. They ended up in a garden room with a few fancy pieces of furniture. And, in one spit of lush grass, Empress Vader lounged on an oversized Kuati fainting couch flush with pillows and silken blankets.
Damielle also noted with some discomfort that the Empress had changed from her public attire into what the redhead could only describe as lingerie. It did nothing to hide the Empress's figure, and in Damielle's opinion showed way too much leg and cleavage, but who was she to correct the woman before her?
Irmé stooped deeply into a gesture of subservience. "The young lady has been prepared, per your orders, Milady. Do you require anything else?"
"No, you are dismissed Irmé." Lady Vader replied, and Damielle was impressed to see the Empress actually give the handmaiden a faint smile.
Irmé bowed out silently, leaving the newcomer alone with her Empress.
Padmé eyed Damielle openly from her vantage point before she made a circling motion. Damielle dutifully turned in a slow circle, and the Padmé nodded.
"You will do nicely." She picked up a piece of fruit from a tray and nibbled on it at her leisure. While she did so she eyed Damielle like one would a toy, causing the teenager to want to shift, but she held her ground.
Finally, to Damielle's relief, the woman spoke. "You must be wondering why I chose you from the program early. And why you of the three that were there?"
Damielle inclined her head. "Yes, Majesty."
Padmé set the fruit hull down and washed her hand in a small bowl of water before sitting up enough to let the fabric of her lingerie shift. Damielle resolutely kept her gaze on the woman's chin, willing herself not to view the Empress in such a fashion.
"You will serve Leia as you would me: faithfully and without question... but you will report to me on my daughter's activities that seem... out of place." Padmé leaned forward. "Do you understand your task?"
Damielle frowned some. "I... am to spy on her for you, Milady?"
Padmé's lips curved just so. "Spy is such a... harsh word. Let's call it... helping a concerned mother keep an eye on her child."
Damielle's frown deepened. "If you wish it, Milady... but am I looking for anything specific?"
Padmé sat back. "She is forming a... well, a bond with an old colleague of mine named Bail Organa. I want you to tell me how that progresses, since they won't act like themselves if I am around. I want to know how deep their relationship goes."
Damielle didn't understand why the woman wanted this, but she didn't argue. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Also report to me of anything that seems wrong to you," Padmé instructed further. "I will delegate their importance. I want weekly reports sent to my personal datapad— I will give you the code on a corresponding datapad— unless something happens that will need immediate attention: I want that instantly."
Damielle bowed. "As you wish."
"And I don't need to tell you that this must not be made known to Leia under any circumstances," Padmé said leadingly.
Heeding the warning, the teenager bowed lower. "I will obey Majesty."
"Good." Padmé finally stood and gestured. "Wait in the servant's quarters for me to fetch you, and then we shall present you to my daughter."
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When Luke returned to the Millennium Falcon it was to find Han and Chewbacca still hadn't returned. Shrugging, Luke let himself back in via the top hatch and sealed it behind him. He then moved to an empty spot in the cargo hold and carefully laid out his selected items from the shipwreck.
The head was his favorite piece, but he'd managed to find a few other things from the pile. Some of which looked like appendages of some sort, though Luke wasn't certain if he would use them yet. He'd been formulating an idea on the walk back to the ship after leaving the family of cats to their hunt.
He planned to build himself a droid, and hopefully he could get the mechanical being to have a personality not unlike his father's astromech Artoo-Detoo. Choosing to begin with the headpiece, Luke carefully started removing the innards.
As he worked, he made two piles: one of parts that were garbage and unsalvageable, and another of things that just might still be useful. And if some of those things turned out not to be needed for his droid project, then perhaps they could be used to trade for other components at a scrap yard.
Luke finished gutting the head and then turned it over in his hands, pursing his lips. This style of droid wasn't very common anymore, and indeed, Luke had rarely seen such a head on any droid not meant solely for combat.
After a bit more inspection, Luke set the head down and rose to gather a few supplies. When he returned to the hold, he settled down and began cleaning the head that he had just gutted, welcoming the grunt-work.
Time passed without notice for the young man, and as the headpiece was thoroughly cleansed of years of grime and filth, it began to shine dully with a slightly golden hue, though nowhere near as garish as See-Threepio's golden finish.
No, this droid's head seemed more of a white-gold with hints of yellow, and Luke liked it. A lot.
Feeling lighter in spirit than he had in some time, Luke smiled gently and continued to process his collection of ancient parts.
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"It's been good to see you again today, Leia," Bail said as the pair delved into their late lunches.
It had been a long morning in the Senate, and Bail was pleased with the progress Leia had made in her efforts to become a full-time politician. She already was one by nature, Bail knew, but it didn't hurt to have the formal education to go with the talent.
And, since it was the final day of the work week, and there were no more scheduled meetings for the day, Bail had treated Leia to lunch at a café near the Senate building. Of course, the Princess' entourage of guards was present, including the twins' head of security, Sergeant Quane.
The man sat a respectful distance away, but the surrounding tables were all vacant per the man's orders. No one would get near the princess without Quane's consent. Bail had offered to get the man something to eat, but he'd declined, stating he was not going to loosen his attention while the princess was out in public like this.
Leia spoke, bringing Bail back to the present. "It's always nice to be among friends, Bail. Thank you for this, by the way."
Bail smiled softly. "Of course. How much longer do you have to go in your internship?"
"Just a few more months, really," Leia replied after swallowing her current bite. She followed it with a swig of her water. "Of course, I need my mother's stamp of approval," she added somewhat sourly. "Which we both know won't come easily."
Bail touched her hand lightly from across the table, and he felt Quane's eyes on him intently, though it didn't bother the senator. "Leia, just think of how much experience you will already have once the Empress announces you to be a senator. This isn't just an internship; you are gaining life experience that will serve you well in years to come. One day you may look back and thank her for being so hard on you now. It's her way of taking care of you in that aspect."
Leia eyed their hands, and then met his gaze. "Yes, I suppose you're right. And you would know, wouldn't you?"
Bail lifted a brow.
"How is Winter doing?" Leia asked, returning to her meal.
Bail felt comprehension dawn and he smiled to think of his adopted daughter Winter. She wasn't actually his daughter, but he had taken her under his care when her father— a good friend of Bail's— had passed away, leaving Winter without a home or family. Either way, Bail loved the white-haired young woman like a daughter, and he didn't care about titles.
Just like he felt about Leia. He loved her like a daughter, though he was careful not to show that too much, lest he— and Leia by extension— get in trouble for that. Bail didn't want Padmé to get jealous more-so than he suspected she already was.
He was no fool: he'd watched Padmé come into her own during the days of the Republic, had spent years with her in the Senate and as her friend. He knew how to read the woman, and he knew she was envious of Bail and Leia's friendship.
"Winter is just about ready to start her own internship, now that she has found someone willing to take her on in the Senate." Bail answered the Princess' inquiry.
"I miss seeing her," Leia admitted. "It's nice to have someone my age who isn't a total snob in the Senate."
Bail smiled, a low chuckle escaping him. "How eloquently put."
Leia's lips quirked, and there was a sparkle in her eye born from the fact that she'd gotten him to laugh. It warmed Bail, to see her happy for even a short time.
"You were thinking it too, admit it," Leia quipped. "I was just saying it."
Bail shook his head somewhat. "You are right; there are those who think far too highly of themselves. The youth of the Imperial families especially seem too..." he paused, searching for the right word.
"Entitled?" Leia supplied bluntly. "Spoiled? Selfish?"
Bail blinked, taken aback by her rather feisty and outspoken nature today, but he really shouldn't have been. Leia had always spoken her mind when the young lady felt the need to, and if she felt like she wouldn't be. Leia would make a great politician and leader because of that strength of character. Leia didn't mince words when she needed to get a point across. But despite those facets, the princess seemed to be in rare form today for whatever reason.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," Bail finally relented, though he began to steer the conversation elsewhere after that. "Have you considered going to the summer camp for young politicians they hold annually on Borleias?"
Leia nodded. "I have, and I think I got the green light to go... with a few security measures of course."
"Of course. It will be an excellent opportunity for you," Bail said warmly. "Winter will be going also, so maybe you two will get the chance to room together?"
Leia's face visibly brightened. "I'd really like that, Bail, thank you."
Bail smiled. "Then we will do all we can to make that happen."
Out of the corner of his eye, Bail spied Quane touch a finger to his ear, dipping his head just-so and listening to something before he nodded. He then stood and began shooing other patrons out of the restaurant.
Leia saw this and frowned. "Sergeant, what's going on?"
"Your mother is on her way here, Princess," Quane answered after removing another group. "I am simply clearing the place for her safety."
Leia thinned her lips, looking down at the remains of her meal. "More like her ego," she muttered.
Bail touched her hand gently once more, and Leia managed a slight smile for him, but her happy aura from earlier was banished now. Bail felt for her, but knew he couldn't interfere so he held his tongue, simply remaining with Leia until he was dismissed by either her or the Empress.
Minutes later a trio of the Emperor and Empress' personal guards entered the restaurant, stopping to stand at attention as the Empress walked in from the balcony entrance.
Bail rose from his seat and bowed to the woman. "Your Highness."
"Bail." Padmé returned blandly, though her attention focused on the brunette still sitting at the table for a moment, and then Padmé looked back to the dark-haired man. "You don't mind if I join the two of you, do you?"
Bail knew full well he had no authority to deny her, but he answered anyway, playing her game for Leia's sake. "Not at all, Milady."
Padmé lifted her chin and seated herself to Leia's right, with Bail resuming his chair after helping the woman scoot in. Leia looked up from her plate.
"Mother," she greeted by rote, though there was no warmth in her tone.
Padmé narrowed her eyes, but didn't call her daughter on the lack of enthusiasm. Instead she signaled the waitress, who came immediately.
"One Nabooian salad, dressing on the side, no eggs." Padmé ordered. "And one glass of Alderaanian red wine."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Leia thinned her lips slightly, but otherwise didn't comment, and Padmé turned cold chocolate eyes onto Bail. "And how have things been going with you, Bail?"
Bail gave a polite smile. "Things are well, Majesty, thank you."
"I hear the anniversary of Breha's passing is drawing nigh?" Padmé pressed, and the man's countenance wilted just a tiny bit, though he used his political experience to remain calm otherwise.
"That is true," he replied.
"Then shouldn't you be preparing for a trip home to commemorate that day?" Padmé wondered, and Leia's head lifted.
"Mother, I don't think this is relevant," Leia said softly, though there was a hint of steel in her voice.
Padmé didn't even glance Leia's way. "Perhaps I will attend her grave myself, pay my respects. I did always like her; she was an interesting woman with good taste in a lot of things."
Bail buried a slew of painful memories with an effort and strove to remain collected. "She always liked getting a visit from you, Milady."
Padmé's food arrived in record time and the Empress took her time eating, well aware of the awkward tension in the room. Leia silently chafed at her mother's blunt intrusion into the time spent with Bail, but she wasn't willing to risk Padmé's wrath by speaking out of turn on that front. She didn't want to risk Padmé banning Leia from completely seeing Bail either.
As if sensing the train of her daughter's thoughts, Padmé looked to Leia at one point, a perfectly-manicured brow lifting. "Leia, since it's just the three of us, I thought I made it clear that you were not to socialize with Bail outside of Senatorial duties?"
Leia's lips twitched. "We were only having a meal, Mother. Nothing inappropriate happened, and we even spoke of senatorial matters."
Padmé set her fork down. "Could this have not been done in a less... intimate setting? Say, an office?"
Leia's gaze hardened slightly. "We did nothing wrong, Mother. We are simply having a meal together."
Padmé eyed her daughter, obviously considering something. "Very well, you may have your time with Bail... but I expect you to increase your studies. Your internship will now be extended by four months."
Leia's jaw dropped. "Four months? But I am nearly finished with..."
"You will do as I say, Daughter!" Padmé snapped in a voice that instantly silenced Leia. "Those are my terms: your friendship with Bail in exchange for more time in schooling."
Leia looked between Bail and Padmé a few times before she sighed, looking to her plate and using the fork to push the pieces of salad around. "Yes Mother."
Padmé's lips twitched in satisfaction, and she returned to her own food, finishing leisurely. Once done she patted her mouth with the napkin and allowed her plate to be taken. She then sat forward again.
"I did not just come here to socialize, Leia."
The young woman blinked up at her mother. "What does that mean?"
Padmé smirked. "I brought you a gift."
She gestured and two of the three royal guards parted to admit a green-clad girl perhaps a year younger than Leia. At Padmé's signal the young woman approached and Leia's gaze riveted to her.
The newcomer reached the table and bowed deeply first to Padmé, nodded to Bail and then turned to Leia.
"Princess Leia," the girl spoke softly, lowering herself in submission. "It will be my great honor to serve you, Milady."
Leia didn't move for several seconds, in the which Bail watched the servant girl work at keeping nerves at bay.
Finally Leia turned to Padmé. "What is going on?"
Padmé tilted her head. "I am giving you a gift." She repeated.
"A servant is a gift?" Leia countered boldly.
"She is a handmaiden," Padmé corrected mildly. "Here to attend to you and your needs."
Leia thinned her lips. "I did not ask for a handmaiden, Mother."
"You didn't need to. Damielle will do nicely either way." Padmé stood up, and the trio of guards shifted in preparation to escort her out. "This is not up for debate. Damielle is yours to do with as you see fit, except dismiss her permanently."
With that, Padmé took her leave, though she threw a look in Bail's direction that he chose to feign missing.
Once the Empress was gone, Bail waited in tense anticipation for what was to come. But he felt badly for poor Damielle, who was caught in the middle, and indeed the girl stood uncertainly.
After a long while, Leia stood up. "Thank you again, Bail. I will retire now."
Bail rose also, bowing to her. "Of course, Princess. I will see you when the Senate meets again in two days' time."
Leia nodded quietly and walked off with a sigh. Damielle was swift to follow, though she maintained a perfect following distance.
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Leia didn't fight it when the maid followed her into the waiting speeder, which Quane himself flew. The ride over was mostly quiet, with Leia lost to her thoughts while trying to remain calm outwardly.
She was upset that her mother had deliberately cut in on Leia's pleasant moment with Bail, something Leia had looked forward to. She took whatever chance she could to spend time in Bail's company, especially now that Luke was... missing.
Padmé was envious of Leia's attention to the senator from Alderaan instead of her own mother; that much was clear. But though Leia was on tense terms with her mother, nor was she willing to risk Padmé's certain wrath by openly rebelling against the woman.
Yet.
But Leia was reaching her boiling point, and she wasn't entirely certain what would happen when Leia's quota had finally been filled.
And now with this handmaiden. Leia hadn't wanted one, and in truth she felt bad for making anyone into any form of a servant. That was why Leia had made it a priority to never mention a personal need of one.
So what was Padmé's endgame in giving one to her daughter now? Had Leia done something wrong? Was this a punishment? Or was it possible— however unlikely— that this really was a 'gift' as Padmé saw it?
Leia didn't know, but she wasn't going to be harsh on the girl next to her just because she had been put into such a position.
"Your name is Damielle?" Leia murmured, at last turning her brown gaze onto the other.
The green-eyed teenager blinked at the sudden attention, but was swift to answer. "Yes, Princess. Damielle Krin."
Leia nodded as the speeder continued to draw nearer to the Palace. "Where are you from originally?"
"Tatooine, Milady."
Leia's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Really?" She allowed the faintest of smiles. "We have family there, though my father would never admit it aloud."
It was Damielle's turn to be surprised. "Oh?"
Leia nodded once. "Yes, though they're only family through marriage to my grandmother."
Leia knew the last thing the girl before her had expected was a history lesson on the Vader family history, but it was nice to have something in common with the handmaiden. It made her more... personable, relatable.
"I hope they are doing well, Princess," Damielle said softly.
"And your family also." Leia returned.
The speeder landed then and Leia rose, exiting the vehicle once Quane opened the door for her. She and Damielle walked the distance to Leia's apartment, and once inside Leia settled onto a couch with a sigh.
"May I get you anything, Princess?" Damielle asked, not sure what she should be doing.
"A glass of water would be wonderful," Leia answered. "The kitchen is in the rear of the apartment."
"Very good, Madame." Damielle bowed and left, returning soon after with a glass of cool liquid, which she passed to Leia via a tray.
"You don't have to treat me so in private, Damielle," Leia reproached gently, accepting the drink. "I don't want to be treated like some frou-frou girl who can't do anything independently."
Damielle did a slight double-take, at a loss for words, and she looked to the tray. "Forgive me, Princess, but how would you like me to serve you in the future?"
"Nothing thus formal unless I have guests," Leia replied. "I don't plan to use you for every little thing, so don't expect to be tossed to and fro."
Damielle eyed the Princess, though Leia noted the redhead never met Leia's gaze. "And you may look me in the eye. I am not my mother."
Hesitant emerald orbs ever-so-slowly lifted until they met brown evenly. "No... you are not, Milady, if it's not too bold for me to say so."
Leia's lips lifted a hair. "In this instance, it's not. But I would advise against such notions in the future, just to be on the safe side."
Damielle dipped her head. "As you wish."
Leia took a long drink from her glass and then set it aside, rising. "I have a spare room next to the library I haven't done anything with. You can have it, and I'll make sure furniture is ordered for you. You may decorate that space however you wish, but please do to adjust anything elsewhere without my consent. Especially in the library."
"Of course, Princess, and... thank you." Damielle replied.
Leia led her to the indicated room, next showed her the terminal with which she could order a bed and such, and then disappeared into the small garden she had in the sun room.
The princess felt, but didn't see the odd look sent her way once her back was turned, though she chose not to acknowledge it.