A/N: Happy Halloween, everyone! Warning to all, I'm attempting to participate in NaNoWriMo again this year (though with school, I don't think I'm going to finish), so there will (most likely) be no updates at all in November. But expect at least one (I'm going to try and do more, but we'll see) in December. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, particularly those I couldn't respond to, thank you all for your patience this last month (well, more like two, really...) and I hope you enjoy this chapter, but please let me know either way! Thanks again! Also, another warning: this chapter contains the beginnings of some tiny AU strands that will reappear (in a slightly more obvious, but still limited way) later on. Just a head's up.
To Save the Queen
Chapter 28: Duty
The moment the doors closed behind us, Padmé practically ran over to where we kept the flimsies.
"We have to plan," she announced. "We have to plan right now."
"What?" I asked, taken aback. "I thought you said that we wouldn't be able to plan until—"
"Yes, yes," Padmé said dismissively, "I did. And it's true, to an extent. But we have to have something like a plan because Qui-Gon and Panaka are right. We won't be able to just attack them full on. I haven't had time to think everything through yet. I was just so angry and horrified by the Senate meeting that all I could think of was how to get home and what to do when we got there. The moment I thought of the plan with the Gungans, I just had to leave right then, before I exploded, even though the idea was only half-formed. I didn't think of anything but getting back on the ship. So I want your help. Together, we have to be able to figure out a way to save Naboo." She sounded desperate. "We just have to."
"We will," Rabé said, sounding more confident than I had ever heard her. "Of course we will."
"Let's get to work," Eirtaé said briskly, looking frighteningly determined.
"Your highness," I began awkwardly as Rabé and Eirtaé began to push the beds off to separate sides of the room so that we'd have space to pace, which was always a very important part in our planning.
"What?" Padmé asked, looking at me through narrowed eyes. "Sabé, what is it?"
"The Jedi know about our switch," I said, starting to feel miserable about it again.
Eirtaé froze, "Oh, of course," She murmured, her eyes wide. "The different names and…" she trailed off, worried.
Padmé was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. Finally, she shrugged impatiently. "I trust that they will not use the information against us. Besides," she added, "we have more important thing to worry about, like taking back Naboo."
"As it happens," I said, feeling a little miffed and a lot reassured, "I think your safety is very important. But okay. What do we know so far about the situation on Naboo? And what resources do we have?"
And so, we began to make lists. Lists of what we knew about Naboo and what had probably changed or stayed the same since the Trade Federation took over. Lists about the situations of the Governor and the other handmaidens. Lists about resources we had on the ship ("See?" I had said triumphantly, "Inspecting the closets was useful!") and lists about the different skills everyone on board our ship had.
We wrote down our goals and made lists of ways to accomplish each individual goal. We wrote down ideas of how to combine the separate plans. We wrote down bad ideas, and good ideas, and insane ideas that would never, ever, in a million years work.
We debated the merits and draw-backs of each plan. We argued and compromised and threw things around in frustration ("I hate waterfalls!" Eirtaé had screamed at one point, throwing a crumpled up flimsy all the way across the room, where it had hit Rabé in the head).
Finally, we agreed on two very basic plans: one for if the Gungans decided to help us and one for if the Gungans decided not to. There was room for variables in each plan and both of them seemed to have at least a fairly decent chance of working no matter the situation.
"That," Eirtaé groaned when we finally finished, "was frustrating."
"Maybe," Rabé retorted, sounding amused, "But that didn't mean you had to throw something at my head."
A sheepish smile spread across Eirtaé's face. "Sorry, Rabé. I wasn't paying attention. If I was, I'd have aimed it at Sabé." She smirked at me.
I let out a tired laugh, "Thanks, Eirtaé."
"Anytime," she grinned.
"I think these will work," Padmé said with a small, relieved smile as she reviewed our plans for the hundredth time. "I think… if we have to fight," her smile dimmed and disappeared—Padmé, bless her heart, was still a pacifist even while she was planning a war, "I think this is the way to do it."
"Of course it is," Eirtaé agreed simply. "We're fighting to bring peace and happiness back to our people. There is no better way to fight a war than that."
"I just wish we didn't have to," Padmé sighed.
"Well, if wishes were credits..." I said lightly.
Padmé gave me a good-natured shove, "Oh shut up, Sabé."
"Oh, I almost forgot to ask," Rabé began, "what are we going to wear to battle? And when are you two switching roles again?"
"Oh!" I jumped to my feet and ran over to the closet, trying very hard to focus on just the first part of Rabé's question. I had enjoyed my reprieve from playing Queen so much, I didn't want to even think about going back to it. "That's easy enough," I answered. "Wicaté made one battle dress for each ship in case the Queen ever ended up flying into enemy territory and needed to fight or something. At least," I corrected, as I pulled out the red and black outfit for everyone to see, "That's what she said she made it for. Personally, I think she just really liked the idea of a battle dress. It's got a horn-like headdress and everything. She also made sure all of the ships had versions of our velvet practice outfits. So, I'll just have to get into the Queen's outfit while Padmé wears my practice—" I began, trying not to sigh loudly at the idea of playing Queen again.
"No," Padmé interrupted.
My eyes widened.
Rabé and Eirtaé stared.
"We're not switching," Padmé said simply. "I will lead my people to war as myself. I will talk to the Gungans as myself. I will not be a coward and hide behind someone else. I will not."
There was another pause and we continued staring. She couldn't be serious, I thought, my head feeling strangely light. She couldn't possibly think that we'd let her go as herself onto a battle field. She couldn't possibly. That would completely undermine the entire decoy system. I was supposed to pretend to be her in times of trouble so people trying to kill her wouldn't succeed. If war wasn't a good place to pretend to be her, I wasn't really sure what was.
"Don't be ridiculous," Eirtaé finally said flatly. "Of course you and Sabé are switching."
"No, we're not," Padmé calmly disagreed.
"But," Rabé began, looking bewildered, "You have to. That's—well, that's the entire purpose of a decoy. So that there's another target for your enemies to attack. And we're going into battle where almost everyone will be our enemy. You have to let Sabé be you."
"I don't." Padmé set her jaw. "And I won't."
She wouldn't let me protect her, I thought numbly, still trying to process it. She wouldn't let me do my duty.
A very, very small part of me felt relieved. I didn't want to pretend to be the Queen again. It was hard enough being plain old Sabé, without the added stress of trying to convince everyone that I was the Queen while following the true Queen's orders without anyone noticing. It would be even more stressful now that Kenobi and Jinn knew about the deception and I really didn't want to deal with the stress.
A very small part of me wanted to hug Padmé and babble incoherent thank-you's into her dress while sobbing in relief at being able to remain myself.
But only a very small part.
"Excuse me?" I asked quietly.
Padmé met my eyes squarely. "You will not be required to be my decoy at this time, Sabé," she said sounding incredibly regal and horribly, impossibly stupid.
"Your highness," I began calmly, "Do you know what a Queen's job is?" I asked simply.
Padmé narrowed her eyes, "Of course I do," she snapped, looking suspicious.
"Of course," I agreed amiably, "Your highness, do you know what a handmaiden's job is?"
Padmé crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes. To do whatever the Queen requests of her. She has other more traditional roles but that is, essentially, what a handmaiden is. And that means you have to listen to me."
"Actually," Eirtaé interrupted, prowling forward to stand even with me, her own eyes narrowed into slits, "The original role of a handmaiden—and this is the job description that you will find should you look in the royal law databases—is to do whatever is necessary for the Queen."
Rabé walked forward to join our line against the Queen. "Whatever is necessary is very different from whatever is requested."
Padmé glared, "Be that as it may, the Queen is above a handmaiden. If you do not do as I say, you are subject to the consequences of the law. As I recall, if you look in the royal law databases," she spat, "You will find that the original law—and this law was never changed— states that disobeying the Queen could be punishable by death."
"A handmaiden is always ready to die for her Queen," I shot back just as quickly, "And, your highness, please don't mistake me here. I am perfectly willing to have you go on this mission. I want you there. But I do not want you there as yourself. You are too precious, too important to be killed because of your sheer stubborn stupidity. And if you go as yourself rather than as a handmaiden, the chances of your death more than triple. It is bad enough that our planet has been invaded. We cannot afford to have you killed. And if that means that we—well," I quickly amended, "that I have to knock you unconscious and tie you up in the swamp somewhere to keep you from coming? Even if it means I'll be executed or thrown into jail? You had better believe I will, your highness."
"As will I," Eirtaé quickly agreed.
Rabé gave Padmé a cheerful grin, "Did you know that Yané once told me a tale of the first handmaidens?" she said conversationally. "She had been doing research and had discovered it. Apparently, one day, their Queen decided she wanted to lead her troops into battle against the Gungans. When the Queen refused to listen to reason, they drugged her and lied to the generals who were leaving to do battle, saying that the Queen had changed her mind about going with them to war. By the time the Queen found out what they had done it was too late for her to join the army. So she had her handmaidens put to death. Two days later, she received word that the Gungans had laid an ambush along the way and that almost the entire army had been wiped out in their sleep and would have, without a doubt, killed her as well had she gone. Yané and I both agreed that we would be honored to follow in their footsteps, milady," Rabé finished firmly.
I stared at her. I had never heard that story before. But, I thought with a small pang, Rabé had always been closer to Yané than the rest of us and Yané always knew stories like that. I sent up another quick prayer for her and Saché's safety.
Padmé's face morphed into a deep, deep scowl. "You think you could get away with that?" she sneered.
"Yes," I answered simply. "There are three of us—all of who are better trained than you are—and only one of you. I can easily pass as Queen. Panaka would never know the difference. Even if he did, he wouldn't question it, especially if Rabé or Eirtaé told him that we had managed to convince you to hide out for your own good. Panaka would be too relieved to look into our story too much. And the Jedi—well, they might be able to tell we were lying, but I have absolutely no doubt that they'd leave you behind for your own safety, if they knew you weren't in any serious danger. Especially if they think that I'm truly the Queen and you're the fake. Which, at this point, they still might," I told her pleasantly.
"We're really not being unreasonable here," Rabé pointed out with a small shrug. "We don't mind if you go—which is more than we can say for Panaka who we all know is going to argue for your staying safely hidden—we just don't want you to die. So, we're asking you to pretend to be a handmaiden. That's all."
"But you don't understand!" Padmé practically shouted, her cheeks flushing. "I have to do this; I have to! I can't have someone else do it for me. I'd be branded as a coward forever! These are my people! My planet! This is my duty and I will not shirk from it! I won't!"
"You wouldn't be shirking your duty, milady," Rabé gently said, "You'd just be—"
"Hiding in the shadows while a friend takes on the risk and danger meant for me. I'd be a coward!" Padmé snapped.
"No," I retorted. "You'd be ensuring the safety of the throne and your people, by making sure that the Trade Federation can't, through the space left by your death, elect a mock Queen to sign the treaty. You'd be letting a friend do her duty."
"Well, what happens if it goes wrong?" Padmé demanded, trying a different tactic. "What happens if the Gungans aren't agreeing to help us and Sabé, because you aren't really the Queen, you don't know what to say and make it worse? What happens then?"
It felt as though I'd just been punched in the stomach, hard.
"That won't happen," Eirtaé snapped sharply, "And that was a really low blow, Padmé, after everything Sabé's done for you."
I closed my eyes, a rush of fierce gratitude for Eirtaé sweeping through me.
"She hasn't let you down yet," Rabé added softly.
"I know she hasn't," Padmé gave me a small twitch of a smile, but relentlessly continued on regardless. "But what if she does? She isn't the Queen and hasn't had the background training in it that I have had. It's not her fault, but no matter what I tell her, she won't know enough to be able to adapt as necessary. We haven't dealt with that many Gungans before. The approach I think might work best now may not work at all. And then what? How is she to know what to do? This is the fate of Naboo! How am I supposed to leave that in her hands?"
"If it's not working," I began very slowly, "If you feel that I will not be able to sway the Gungans…" then, a blurry, half-forgotten picture of a little dark haired girl who had burned flitted across my eyes. I bit my lip before slowly, slowly adjusting my plan and continuing, trying to smoother the tiny, vague worry flitting about in my stomach, "If you feel I will not be able to sway the Gungans; if it is only the Jedi, Captain Panaka and us in front of them—if no one new is going to find out about this… you may come forward and reveal who you are to them. You may try to sway the Gungans on your own. But," I added sharply, "Only if it's just the people already aware of the secret, only if it is desperate, only if you think there is still a chance and only, only, if you agree to go back to being a handmaiden when you are done, if you will still pass all your orders through me," I met her eyes squarely. "If you agree to that, we—well, I—will not mind if you reveal yourself to the Gungan Leaders and only the Gungan leaders."
"I am not playing handmaiden," Padmé retorted, but she sounded a little more uncertain.
"What other objections could you possibly have?" Eirtaé demanded sharply. "We are merely trying to keep you alive, Your Highness! We are letting you reveal yourself as the Queen if the situation is desperate and you believe you can still help. We are letting you come. We are just asking you to be mindful of your importance to Naboo and to try to stay alive."
"Please, Padmé?" Rabé pleaded, "For us?"
I just met her eyes unflinchingly, my arms crossed across my chest as her eyes darted between the three of us. I wasn't joking about forcibly restraining her and leaving her in the swamp somewhere if I had to.
"Fine," Padmé sighed, before giving us a glare that could kill. "But I am not happy about this."
"We wouldn't expect you to be," I answered simply.
And that was that.
