She remembered the humid summer night Palo had given her the pale blue dress of fine silk. It was a stormy one. The fog had made the air heavy outside the palace windows. Padmé had been standing on the balcony of her living quarters, enjoying the smell of melancholy rain as it was her very last night as Queen Amidala of Naboo. She had just gotten settled into her night clothes and poured herself a generous glass of wine. The eventful conversation she had over dinner with Jamilia, who was being crowned the following day, left her in deep thought. Her mind raced with thoughts of the capital and the Galactic Senate.
Padmé had forgotten that she had invited Palo over for a drink to celebrate, or mourn, depending on how one looked at it, the ending of an era, or conclusion of a queenship. They had been steadily seeing one another for a couple of years, and she knew he was planning on proposing to her after her reign ended. She had heard rumors from the other women in the court, and had even gotten wind of it by her own mother and sister, both of whom were overjoyed at the idea of her settling down and having children.
It had taken her by surprise when he came to join her on the terrace, as she stood overlooking her beautiful planet, eyes closed and being tickled by the breeze. She sighed heavily, a song of thunder drumming in her ears, stomach in knots about how much she would miss Naboo.
"Terrible weather, isn't it? Hopefully it'll clear up for the ceremony tomorrow." Palo had leaned across the railing of the balcony, staring out across the foggy hills and water. Padmé turned, surprised, to stare at him. She had forgotten about him during her conversation with Jamilia, something she felt quite guilty about. She hadn't considered his feelings when accepting the position of senator.
"I quite enjoy it." She said easily, shifting her gaze from Palo back to the storm. "Although I'm sure Jamilia won't consider it a lucky start to her queenhood."
"Yes," Palo smiled, "I suppose a little rain wouldn't trouble an usual bird like you, would it, Queen Amidala."
Padmé managed to give Palo a small smirk; a weak response. Normally, she would have smiled endearingly at his quip, but she was too troubled over how she would break the news of her departure. He was a kind and attractive man. She was particularly fond of his dark curly hair. However, what she enjoyed most about his company was his passion for the arts. He attended the local art school, and had taught her a variety of techniques that she had excitingly employed in her own art. Palo had always marveled at her paintings, expressing that even with all of the amazing talent he had seen in university, Padmé's ability to capture Naboo in all its glory was extraordinary.
She could see herself living a simple life with Palo. Getting married, having a few children, herself working as an advisor to the queen and he as a local art professor. Although, no matter how many times her mother and sister tried to convince her that this life would make her happy, Padmé knew she had to have passion to truly be satisfied. She loved Palo, but she felt no passion or desire to be his wife. She felt passion for the galaxy, for representing Naboo and the Republic. A quiet life in the countryside right after her queenship seemed too anticlimactic. She needed to use her voice to help the unfortunate who had been silenced, to better the Republic, and to learn more about the governing of the galaxy and the people who inhabited it.
"I will have a new title, soon." Padmé said, sipping her wine. "Would you like a drink."
Palo inclined his head, "I would love a drink, darling." He smiled at her whimsically, "And what shall I be calling you after tomorrow, my queen?"
Padmé poured Palo a thick glass of Naboo's finest to match her own. She figured he'd need it. She then noticed the package he had set beside him on the terrace.
She groaned, "Palo, I thought we agreed, no gifts."
He smiled, "I suppose I fibbed." He handed her the parcel. It was wrapped in fine silver parchment, and tied with a silk gold bow. "For you, my queen."
She scowled before allowing him a small smile, "Disobeying a direct order from your monarchess, Palo Jemabie?"
"I hope you'll pardon me once you open it." Palo said softly, his hand caressing her cheek.
Padmé turned away from his touch, allowing him to meet her eyes as she revealed her guilt.
"I cannot accept your gift, Palo." She said, solemnly. The betrayal in his expression was bitter and knowing, as if he expected that she would decide to break his heart. He turned away.
"We could have a beautiful life here, Padmé." Palo spoke to the rain. "Settle down close to your family, have our own children, be happy."
"You know I can't do that." Padmé whispered, "The galaxy is consumed with war and chaos."
Palo slammed his glass down on the balcony's ledge. Shards flew and wine dampened Padmé's bare toes. She hid her surprise at his anger. Palo had never been anything but gentle, and his actions conveyed the extent of his hurt at her actions.
He laughed, humorlessly. "Yes, the galaxy is in chaos, it always is. What does that have to do with us, Padmé? Why wouldn't you choose a life of peace and happiness? You've done your service to Naboo, why isn't it enough?" Palo was exasperated.
Padmé allowed a small tear to slip, deciding he deserved to see her humanity. "I've already agreed to represent Naboo in the Galactic Senate. My ship leaves for Coruscant in the morning."
Palo turned back to her, shaking his head in denial. "You don't have to go, Padmé. You don't owe Naboo anything more. Don't do this. Don't put yourself in such a vulnerable and controversial position. Jamillia will understand, she cannot argue that you deserve retirement from politics."
"I don't want to retire from politics, Palo. It's what I'm good at. It's who I am. I can help the galaxy, I know I can. Besides, Sheev Palpatine is still Chancellor, a man of Naboo and a cherished ally. I will be protected and well respected."
"What about your family—"
"I'm not changing my mind." Padmé said sharply, her tone implying finality. Palo said nothing, his mouth a tight line as he inspected her. She took another sip of her wine and looked away.
"Do you realize what you're giving up, Padmé?" Palo said softly, desperation lacing his words. "A comfortable life to grow old in, children to raise and love, giving Ruwee and Jobal their daughter back, being an aunt to Sola's kids—"
"This conversation is over, Palo." Padmé said sternly. Part of her was outraged at the audacity of his words, but she couldn't help but understand. There was truth in Palo's anger and exasperation, but she was a stubborn woman who knew what she wanted. She was addicted to the chaos of politics and determined to change the galaxy. Padmé wasn't ready to give up her freedom and her power.
"I'm sorry." She added, finishing her drink and resting her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I can't be who you and my family want me to be, Palo."
"If you returned the feelings I had for you, we would be having a very different conversation tonight." Palo replied bitterly. Padmé didn't say anything. It was true, she didn't feel the same as Palo. She cared for him, but she cared for the Republic and Naboo more.
"You'll find someone better for you than me." She sighed with a pang of sadness. She would miss him, as she would miss her family and friends.
Palo jerked his head, not meeting her eyes. "Since there's no changing your mind when it's set, I suppose I'll be leaving. Good luck in the capital, Senator Amidala." He turned to leave her, taking his time as if in hopes she would decide differently.
"Your gift," She called wistfully, "I can't accept it, especially now."
"I have no use for it." He replied miserably. "Goodbye, Padmé."
Guilt swelled in her chest. She started to second guess herself, but quickly reminded herself of the reasoning for her decision.
And he was gone.
Padmé stood on the grand steps of the recently completed Imperial Palace, wearing the pale blue dress made of Naboo's finest silk, her parting gift from Palo Jemabie years ago. She wrapped her white boa around her bare shoulders tightly as she waited for Bail to arrive, feeling uneasy at the thought of entering the foreboding place alone. Guests brushed past her, some taking the time to greet her politely as they entered the palace and set off for the ballroom, where the banquet was being hosted. Everyone marveled over the beauty of the Emperor's palace, built on the backs of Coruscant citizens. She knew the guest of honor was most likely lingering in his new throne room, allowing his citizens to marvel over this blatant demonstration of power and royalty. Sheev Palpatine loved to be fashionably late, and Padmé was sure he would relish in the fear and anticipation of the senators who may have something to hide, and the admiration of his loyal followers at his display of wealth and control.
"Senator Amidala, you look lovely as ever." Bail turned up on her right, offering her his arm to escort her inside.
"You're looking charming as well, Senator Organa." Padmé returned the compliment, appreciating his casual demeanor. She took a deep breath, giving herself one last chance to settle her nerves and apply her paper face before entering the Emperor's territory.
The ceilings were high and lined with large marble pillars. The architecture was magnificent and reminiscent of Naboo and the Palace of Theed, much to Padmé's chagrin. They followed the crowd down a wide hallway echoing with vain laughter and small talk. As soon as they entered the booming ballroom, golden protocol droids presented them with fine wine on silver platters.
Padmé accepted a glass with relief, thanking the droid. She needed something to take the edge off. She had been dependent on her drinks more frequently than ever before; after the murdering of Clovis and the nightmare inducing interaction she shared with Darth Vader. She was trying to remain unbothered by the possibility that the entire Alliance could be exposed. However, one cannot help but to perseverate at the thought of death when it is undeniably close. As she and Bail moved to take their seats at a round table accompanied by Senator Chuchi, the chill of death crept even closer.
"Riyo, you look lovely." Padmé complimented the Pantoran senator as she stood from the table to briskly kiss Padmé on both cheeks, before moving to provide the same treatment to Bail.
"Thank you, Padmé. Your beauty is apparent, as always." Senator Chuchi replied, a polite smile gracing her attractive face. It didn't quite reach her golden eyes, which swirled with apprehension. It was unsurprising that Riyo Chuchi was anxious for the proceedings. Although she was not a member of the Rebellion, she openly favored anti-imperial passings in the senate, and could very well be considered a sympathizer. The senator was young, around Padmé's age, and was not as adept at hiding her nervousness as some of the older senators. Padmé, who had grown up in politics and government, had an exceptional talent for maintaining composure for someone so young. She placed her hand comfortingly over the other young senator's hand as they all seated themselves.
"It's a lovely night for a party, isn't it." Padmé whispered saracastly, to which the senator nodded fervently.
"Indeed, Senator Amidala, it is." Senator Chuchi said, squeezing Padmé's hand and taking a sip of her wine. She relaxed noticeably, appearing to appreciate the act of solidarity. Padmé and Riyo often voted similarly and held comparable worldviews. Although Senator Chuchi had not yet chosen to join the ranks of the Rebellion, Padmé had subtly suggested the notion to her a couple of times. She wondered if the other young senator would divulge this to the Emperor if she was questioned.
"An interesting gown you are dawning, Senator Chuchi." Bail said conversationally, "A new and upcoming designer, perhaps?" His eyes scanned the room nonchalantly as he made small talk, and Padmé noticed him tilt his head in the slightest motion towards Mon, who was sitting at the other side of the room, laughing cordially at a stiff joke told by another anxious traitor.
Their meaningless chatter continued for a few minutes before they were joined by a couple other members of the senate as well as their debutante wives. To Padmé's distaste, this included the Vice Chair, Mas Amedda. The man was so far up the Emperor's ass she was surprised that he and his wife had chosen to sit anywhere near speculated Rebel sympathizers, and two unknown traitors. The conversation was routine and boring, however Padmé played her part expertly, pretending to be interested in various fashion designers, rehashing the current debates ongoing in the senate, and discussing views on the quickly growing militarization of various planets.
"I am quite looking forward to seeing your artwork, Senator Amidala." Lady Amedda interrupted a dry discussion Padmé was having with Senator Chuchi on the banking clan, an air of snootiness in her tone. "How noble of you to present the work of such an esteemed Senator such as yourself, in such an underprivileged area, a mere diner no less." A laugh escaped the Chagrian woman, her multiple chins rippling. "However, I'm not sure how you can expect the higher members of society to feel comfortable in such an uncivilized place."
Senator Chuchi opened her mouth to defend Padmé from the woman's demeaning tone, however didn't say anything after Padme shot her a withering glance, instead opting to wave a protocol droid over to their table to obtain more drink.
"Yes, thank you, Lady Amedda." Padmé replied politely, reaching unwaveringly for the droid's platter of wines and snatching a glass before he could offer it to her. "However, if certain higher members of society do not feel comfortable around the very citizens their senatorial husbands are employed to protect, I would say some reflection is necessary on their parts. Wouldn't you agree?"
Bail cleared his throat disapprovingly at Padmé's obvious dig at the woman, despite her misleadingly civil tone and expression. He was right, of course. It was unwise of her to stir the pot in any means, especially tonight.
Before the outraged Lady Amedda could retort, Padmé quickly added, "However, I'm sure you were not meaning yourself, Lady Amedda. It is quite kind of you to show concern for those who may not be as, how did you word it, noble as you and I. You'll be relieved to hear I will be ensuring safety measures for my art display."
"Of course, Senator Amidala, I would expect nothing less from a professional such as yourself." The woman replied evenly, although her anger at Padmé's nonchalant audacity was still apparent by the colored blotchiness of her face. She reached for a plate of small cakes and shoved one of the sweets into her mouth before turning away from Padmé, signalling that the short conversation was indeed over.
"I often worry for you and your quarrelsome tongue." Bail murmured to Padmé from behind his wine glass, to which she sighed heavily, refraining from frowning at her friend.
"Yes, I know."
A clattering of silverware against glass stole the room's attention, causing Padmé to jump as she realized the noise was coming from her own table.
Mas Amedda stood, his large belly knocking the table as he rose to his feet. Padmé steadied her wine at the movement. "Attention, my dear senators and aristocrats! What a splendid party our benevolent Emperor has put together for us. We can all agree the Imperial Palace is undeniably breathtaking. How lucky we all are to set foot in such a marvelous place, and to enjoy such wonderful company. Without further adieu, I present to you our former chancellor and bringer of peace to the galaxy, Emperor Palpatine!"
As the large Chagrian senator retook his seat, the orchestra began to play an imperial march. It was much in character for Palpatine to make such a dramatic entrance. As a woman of Naboo, she was very familiar with such things as well. Padme clapped politely as several stormtroopers filed inside the ballroom, forming a large circle around the Emperor—and to Padmé's horror, him.
Palpatine's Naboo style robes were a deep shade of violet, and swept the floor behind him regally, highlighting his wealth and status. His face was shadowed by the hood of his cape, hiding the horrible disfigurement that he claimed was a reminder of the evil of the former Jedi order.
Beside the Emperor, towering above him, was the monster in all black, whose presence brought forth an indescribable chill. Clipped to his belt was the familiar weapon of a lightsaber, which she knew first hand would glow an eerie red if ignited.
Her blood ran cold. He would surely recognize her as the accomplice to Obi-Wan Kenobi from that dreadful night. Darth Vader had seen her face before they had escaped, and she had no doubt that if given the opportunity to look her in the eyes that he would kill her immediately. A silent shiver ran down her spine.
At the sight of the Emperor's assassin, the fearful, curious whispering had begun. Darth Vader had never attended one of the Emperor's social functions. He had never been seen in person, she assumed, by the majority of the gossiping ballroom. He and his Inquisitors lived in the shadows, and it was thought if you did see them, you were inevitably marked for death. That was indeed what was displayed by the footage she had seen from other members of the Rebellion during battles with the ruthless murderer, Vader, and his imperial forces.
The Emperor, Vader, and a couple of higher ranking officers stood at an elevated head table in the back of the ballroom, overlooking the wide-eyed higher echelons of Coruscant. Palpatine smiled importantly, waving off the orchestra in order to achieve silence. The whispering stopped as the music trailed off, echoing off the grand walls of the room.
"Thank you, Senator Amedda for such a warm introduction." Palpatine said cheerfully, his smile taking on the shape of a leer. "I welcome you all to my Imperial Palace, a building which represents how far our galaxy has come since the founding of the first Galactic Empire. How strong, unyielding, and powerful we have become, indeed." He paused as a scatter of applause overtook the ballroom. "I have invited you here to celebrate all of our success in the past years, and to share with you all the beauty of the Empire." He gestured around the room at the palace's architecture proudly. "I could not have made such advancements for our galaxy and government without each and every one of you." He scanned the crowd of guests, until his gaze landed finally on Padmé. Her eyes hardened slightly, but she smiled pleasantly at the implication. The Emperor held her gaze for a few moments, his smile widening in mirth. He turned from Padmé to address the room once more. "However, it is with a heavy heart I must admit…" The room seemed to collectively hold their breath as the Emperor, who took on the demeanor of such a kindly old man, darkened visibly. "There are rumors of treason within our very senate chambers. I'm sure you have all heard of the terrorist organization known as the Rebel Alliance. I feel the corruption within our government attempting to poison the prosperity and safety of the Empire."
Padmé resisted to look at Bail regarding the Emperor's use of the word feel. To the public, it was unknown that Palpatine was indeed a Sith Lord. The Rebellion was privy to this knowledge due the survival of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Grandmaster Yoda, who had unmasked Sheev Palpatine as a wielder of the Force at the end of the Clone Wars. She shivered. It was due to this fact that the Rebels had extensively practiced hiding not only their emotions, but their battle plans, even within their own heads, to prevent Palpatine, Vader, or the Inquisitors from prying through their minds with the Force during torture and taking what they wanted.
Tonight they were dealing with not one Sith Lord, but two. Padmé's eyes flickered to Darth Vader as Palpatine continued his speech, drinking in his curious appearance hesitantly. His face was hidden, as it was during their previous encounter, by a black mask. It covered his nose and mouth, revealing nothing of the bottom of his face as it met up with the high neck of his black robes. His eyes burned yellow, as they did in her nightmares, and the hood of his cloak hid the rest of his face, making it unclear what species he was or if he had any hair.
She met Mon's gaze suddenly. The older senator nodded sharply to Padmé, as if agreeing with her that she should be afraid. The presence of Vader was unexpected to them all, and it posed a greater threat of discovery if they were to act suspicious in any way. Padmé looked away from Mon guiltily to stare at the Dark Lord once more. Little did Mon know, Vader already knew that she was treasonous. She had been spotted with a Jedi on Coruscant a little over a week ago by the Emperor's assassin himself, and now he was there in the flesh once again, and she could feel the length of her life shortening drastically.
Not only would she be killed for being in cahoots with a Jedi, but Vader's sighting of her could easily lead to the connection between her and Clovis's murder. The timing was too suspicious to not lead to further investigation. Not only would she be killed, but her reputation would be dragged through the mud as she was revealed as not only a 'terrorist' but a murderer as well. Padmé finished her glass of wine and cleared her head, irritated by herself for letting the throws of anxiety slip through the barriers of her mind. A momentary slip, which she hoped was masked by the high range of emotions suffocating the ballroom. She wondered vaguely if Vader could sense her presence, and if he had connected that she was the same woman he had almost killed only nights ago.
As if feeling her unblinking gaze on his being, Vader's head turned to glare at her, his yellow eyes burning hers as if she was looking directly into the twin suns of Tatooine. She looked away immediately, hiding her face with her glass of wine, pretending to be occupied with a plate of cakes that a droid had placed between her and Bail. There was no way he had picked up on her few moments of distress. She had remained posed and unrevealing in her expression, and her mind had barely lost control.
"The tabloids say he can read minds." Senator Chuchi whispered fearfully, who had clearly taken notice of Padmé's interest in Darth Vader.
"That's ridiculous." Padmé scoffed, not even attempting to be offended at being caught staring. She chanced a glance at Vader again, and was relieved to find he was no longer glaring at her. He was instead staring above the heads of all the guests, ignoring their existence as if they were unworthy of his attention. She was mildly surprised her neck wasn't broken yet. Perhaps he didn't recognize her and she had overestimated his intelligence.
He glared at her again, causing her mask to slip as a small gasp slid from her lips. There was no way he could read her mind. Senator Chuchi was gullible for suggesting such a baseless idea. She needed to stop staring at him and drawing attention to herself. Padmé had to admit, her eyes and her thoughts were drawn to the monster in an unnatural way. She recalled the way he had looked at her after revealing her face. It was peculiar, but there was a strange friction between them and it was terrifying indeed. She unconsciously reached up to touch her bruised neck, remembering the feeling of his fist manipulating the Force to close violently around her esophagus.
She needed to get it together. Sure, Darth Vader was an unexpected obstacle. She still needed to stay sane and calculated for the sake of the galaxy. Padmé nodded to Bail, who was eyeing her concernedly. Everything was going to be fine, she meant to portray to him, before looking back to Palpatine with an easy smile and a raised glass.
"If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry." The Emperor's speech continued. Padmé had missed several minutes of his sordid gabbing as she had been wrapped up in thoughts of his mysterious Sith apprentice. Palpatine smiled at the crowd, "You've all taken notice of my most trusted hand and general, Lord Vader." The tenseness in the air intensified, as what was unmistakably fear overtook the room. The Emperor seemed pleased at this reaction, his lips curling amusedly. "Tonight is a night for dance, conversation, and celebration. However, with the emerging threat of the terrorist Rebellion, I have asked for his services tonight to keep not only myself, your Emperor, safe from any ploys, but to protect you all from the traitors who very well may be seated beside you."
The room erupted in fearful whispering. "Quiet, quiet." The Emperor said happily, "Let us not waste the night accusing our neighbors of treason. I have requested Lord Vader's presence for this very reason. After all, we are all aware of the terrible fate which fell upon one of our own so recently. I pay my respects to Rush Clovis, the senator of Scipio. It is a shame to have lost such a promising young man." The Emperor raised his glass to show respect to Senator Clovis. The rest of the room followed, agreeing somberly with the words of the Emperor. "Our forces have determined that the Rebels are responsible for the unfortunate death of our Senator Clovis."
The room gasped collectively at this deceitful reveal. Padmé and Bail met each other's eyes, and Padmé caught sight of the rage at the Emperor's lie in her friend's face before he resumed his placant expression.
It would indeed appear that it was a Rebel scheme to kill Clovis if it was known that it was her and Obi-Wan that had disposed of his body. Had Darth Vader confessed his findings to the Emperor and they put the pieces together as to the reason for Obi-Wan's visit to Coruscant? There was no way she was connected to the murder of Clovis, they had covered all their tracks, hadn't they?
"At ease, my friends." Palpatine continued, pleased at their outraged reaction to his confession about Clovis's death. "I wish to end such dreary talk and return to our festivities. I look forward to enjoying your company. You have nothing to fear from Lord Vader or the imperial forces if you have no involvement with the Rebel Alliance, and he is looking forward to meeting each and every one of you." Padmé could swear Vader flinched at this. His eyes narrowed furiously, causing Palpatine to smirk. He waved his hand back at the orchestra, signaling them to begin playing again. "Enjoy the first gala of the Imperial Palace!"
There was silence as the orchestra began to play a pleasant song the crowd was used to dancing to. After a moment of regathering themselves, the Emperor's guests began to mingle and eat, many standing to wander the room and socialize or request a partner for a waltz.
Padmé stood, seeking the fresher. She needed a moment away from the dry conversation of the gala and the gazes of Palpatine and Darth Vader. She smoothed out her dress primly before gathering her clutch and settling her boa comfortably over her shoulders. "I will return," She announced to Bail and Senator Chuchi. "I need a moment in the ladies room."
"Of course," Bail's eyes narrowed concerdly as he gestured for her to go ahead. "Don't be too long, I wish to run by you some ideas for the environmental committee."
She nodded, smiling cordially. "I look forward to it, Senator Organa."
Padmé finished her drink and set it on the table before briskly beginning towards the fresher. Her eyes surveyed the room as she placed everyone before disappearing in the restroom. Mon and her table were currently in conversation with the Emperor, the looming Darth Vader standing silently beside him. Her stomach lurched at this. She knew Mon was strong and irrevocably intelligent, but she must be terrified while at the mercy of two Sith Lords. Bail and Senator Chuchi were in weary conversation with Lady Amedda and a few others.
She was alone in the fresher, thankfully. Padmé leaned against the crystalline sink, staring into the intricately framed mirror in front of her. She took a deep breath and opened her purse, feeling around for the encrypted comlink stashed between credits, lipstick, and her apartment key. She fingered it thoughtfully before stuffing it into the bust of her dress, in between her breasts. Her mind was reeling with scenarios of which she could be discovered, one of which being the exposure of evidence on her person.
She reached for her lipstick and reapplied the soft pink color to her mouth before adjusting her braids so that they were in perfect position. She set her face to a calm and unruffled expression, smiling easily at her reflection, before moving her head from side-to-side to ensure that Sabé's makeover had indeed fully covered her body's damage by Darth Vader's hand.
"Senator Amidala, how stunning you look." A familiar voice interrupted her inspection. Padmé planted a phony smile on her face before turning around to face the Kaminoan senator who so often opposed her ideas in the senate chambers. She refrained from falsely complimenting the woman back on her gaudy dress and overbearing jewelry.
"Senator Burtoni," She greeted the older woman, her eyes narrowing, "How are you this evening?"
Halle Burtoni smiled smugly, her eyes trailing up and down Padmé's appearance with a patronizing glare. "I am doing very well, thank you for asking. I imagine you, my young senator, are feeling quite nervous, however."
Padmé refrained from rolling her eyes. "Why, pray tell, should I be nervous, Senator? Are you accusing me of something?" Padmé asked pleasantly, a small smile on her face, but her eyes sparkling with anger.
"Of course not." Senator Burtoni laughed condescendingly, waving her hand arrogantly at Padmé. "Your ideas simply mirror that of a Rebel sympathizer, and Lord Vader has no patience with those who question the Emperor's rule."
"I have never questioned His Majesty's rule, I simply am capable of formulating my own thoughts and presenting them before the senate for debate, rather than blindly following each notion proposed." Padmé retorted easily, "Although, I do thank you for your concern, Senator Burtoni."
The Kaminoan narrowed her purple eyes at Padmé in speculation, casting doubt over Padmé's truthfulness. They had quarreled many times in the senatorial chambers, and Padmé knew the woman would relish in her downfall. She kept her gaze in line with Burtoni, her face remaining unbothered as her boa fell into the dips of her elbows and she wrapped it around her shoulders easily.
"Best of luck, Senator Amidala." Senator Burtoni snapped, smirking. "You shall need it. Unfortunately for you, Lord Vader can not be charmed by your trivial beauty. You are not the tolerant and charitable queen of Naboo to the Sith Lord or the Emperor. You're merely an unloyal senator, with no more power than the rest of us."
Padmé nodded stiffly, sucking her lips in irritation, before brushing past the older woman swiftly. She channeled her inner Bail Organa to leave the situation at a stalemate rather than to engage in further warfare. "Have a lovely night, Senator Burtoni." She said lightly through clenched teeth before exiting the fresher abruptly. She didn't need that miserable old bag testing her confidence and putting ideas in her head on a night such as this. As Padmé briskly made a turn out of the restroom, she walked a few feet with her head down, stewing at her encounter with the smug Burtoni. The odds were just not in her favor tonight. She looked up suddenly, seeing her table in the distance and Bail gazing around looking on edge, most likely searching for her as she had been gone longer than expected while arguing with her senatorial nemesis.
She was feeling quite restless and desired another drink before returning to her seat again to engage in small talk. She spun around decidedly towards the bar and walked directly into a dark, rock-like surface.
She reached her hands out hesitantly to steady herself using the wall she had surely walked into, hoping to prevent herself from crashing to the floor. An arm held her waist to steady her, causing a strange warmth to spread through her body, leading her to momentarily lean into the welcome embrace. She blinked fervently as her senses returned to her, looking up with alarm. Wall's didn't have arms. Wide yellow eyes that she could now see were framed with long thick lashes stared down at her in what appeared to be wild panic, closely followed by a rage that made her heart beat race dangerously. She gasped, stumbling backward, her humiliation evident by the pink on her cheeks. Even Padmé could not keep her composure when falling into the arms of Darth Vader.
"My dear Senator Amidala, are you alright?" Another hand steadied her and she stumbled backwards. She turned to the Emperor in barely disguised horror, whose face was lit with dark amusement. She stepped out of his grasp and smoothed her dress, breathing heavily.
"My apologies, Your Majesty." She curtsied towards Palpatine, the bile rising in her throat as she gave him an unsteady smile before turning reluctantly towards Vader and adding "My Lord," With an apologetic nod.
Mas Amedda, who stood to the Emperor's left, laughed pretentiously at Padmé, "It appears our dear Amidala has had a few glasses too many. No matter, it is a party after all."
She laughed daintily at his joke, hiding easily the fact that she hated all three of the men before her.
Palpatine, who seemed overjoyed to have caught Padmé in such an embarrassing state, chuckled amusedly. "Thankfully Lord Vader was here to catch you, you may have injured yourself my dear queen."
She grit her teeth with irritation. Palpatine only referred to her queenhood when he was demeaning her, or gloating over how her position of power had led to him reaching his.
"Yes, indeed." Padmé said easily, her eyes flashing to Vader fearfully. He was staring at her unabashedly, causing her flush to return. She cursed herself for being so careless. Now she was face-to-face with Vader and he certainly was aware of her identity. Had he already exposed her activities to the Emperor? He couldn't have, or she'd have been dragged off to some dungeon below deck by now.
"Lord Vader, the woman who gracefully fell into your arms is Senator Amidala, a native of my own Naboo and it's former queen."
Vader said nothing, glaring at the Emperor and then at Padmé. She found herself irritated at his lack of manners and stuck her hand out boldly, silently daring him to shake it.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, My Lord." Padmé said confidently, her voice finding it's steadiness, causing Palpatine's grin to widen wickedly as it always did whenever Padmé acted in an outrageous or entertaining manner.
Vader stared at her hand furiously, ignoring the gesture before meeting her eyes warningly, as if he were threatening to expose her if she dared come any closer to touching him with her outstretched hand. Padmé smiled easily, although her stomach bubbled with fear under his gaze. She decided to curtsey again instead, to which Vader also said nothing, crossing his arms across his chest silently.
"You look lovely tonight, my dear." Palpatine interrupted her charade, raising his eyebrows at Vader. Padmé assumed this was his way of ordering Vader to analyze her presence for disloyalty. "Doesn't she, Lord Vader? Women of Naboo are known for their superior beauty and education." It was clear that he expected the Dark Lord to respond. For several moments he continued to just stare at Padmé, contemplating. Padmé's breath hitched slightly under his fiery gaze, preparing for him to expose her or snap her neck on the spot. She hated to admit she was curious to hear his voice again. When she had heard it before it had been taunting, dark and evil as he threatened to kill her to anger Obi-Wan. She felt something tap gently at her brain, as if trying to break through a thick glass wall to reveal her deepest thoughts. She held back a gasp, fighting the sensation fervently. Thankfully, the unpleasantness stopped almost immediately after it began. She knew it was Vader using some dark Force trick. She stared at him with pursed lips, which he ignored. He pushed once more against her mental barriers tauntingly, as if demonstrating he could continue meddling in her mind if he wished to.
"Yes, lovely." Vader finally repeated, not meeting Padmé's wide-eyed gaze. His voice was quiet and melodic, contrastingly different from his arrogant boasting the night he'd dueled Obi-Wan. It was surprisingly pleasing to her, which caused her nausea to return.
Palpatine smiled, clearing his throat to take Padmé's attention away from his apprentice. She settled her nerves, knowing that Palpatine was about to test her. He had diffused the tension by complimenting her and forcing Darth Vader to acknowledge her presence and look into her mind, but she knew he had planned on engaging in more than small talk with her. She had to be a prime suspect of involvement with the Alliance with her outspoken democratic values and the company she holds with other suspected sympathizers.
"I've heard you are unhappy with my decision of reinstating Nute Gunray and the Trade Confederation." Palpatine questioned, appearing empathetic. "My dear senator I understand your apprehension, however, sometimes one must make alliances for the greater good." He smiled dubiously at her, once again demonstrating the power he had over her and the galaxy. She kept her heart rate steady and smiled apologetically at Palpatine, burrowing her true feelings on the matter deep within her mental barriers, where she hoped the monster, Vader, couldn't reach them. Surprisingly, he didn't enter her mind again, staring off into the crowd seemingly bored with her presence.
"I trust your decisions are for the best, Your Grace." Padmé began, "I am just concerned due to our beautiful planet's strife with the Trade Federation, and particularly Gunray, in the past."
Palpatine considered her curiously for a moment before nodding, "Your concern is justified, my dear Amidala. I value the opinion of an esteemed senator such as yourself, and want to assure you that I am closely monitoring the actions of the Trade Federation personally."
"Thank you, Your Grace. I am relieved to hear it." She bowed her head in mock appeasement, before raising her head and smiling charmingly before cracking a joke. "I was headed to the bar before crashing into Lord Vader, however, I have now decided perhaps dinner would be a better idea."
Palpatine and Amedda chuckled at her confession. Vader refused to look at her again, although her eyes seemed to continuously drift back to his mysterious looming form in interest.
"Very well, my dear." Palpatine agreed amusedly, to her relief. "One more thing, while I have you here."
Padmé turned back around, resisting from dashing madly back to her seat to be away from the skin crawling presence of the Emperor. Palpatine leaned forward to whisper in her ear, his hand wrapped around her wrist tightly, causing goosebumps to erupt on her bare skin as she held back a surprised cry.
"Be careful of the company you keep, and of the words you speak in the senate chambers. I wouldn't want you to be confused for a Rebel sympathizer. My dear Amidala, I have watched you grow all these years into the intelligent woman I see before me, and I couldn't bear to see an asset such as you tied up in treasonous affairs."
The threat hung heavily in the air.
"Of course, Your Majesty." Padmé said with a tight phony smile, "My loyalties lie with the Empire." The lie flowed easily out of her lips. Palpatine leaned up from her ear, his lips twisting upwards in thought.
"Of course they do," He dropped her wrist and waved Vader and Mas Amedda forward to address whoever else was next in their path. "Enjoy the festivities, young Senator."
She didn't look back as she walked numbly back to Bail, not believing her luck and aliveness. He stood to greet her, eyes flashing with relief.
"It appears we've both made it through the night unscathed." Bail remarked, gesturing for Padmé to take her seat once more. It seemed like ages since she had been in the safety of her seat. She felt as if Vader's presence in her mind had made her tired and lose the concept of time. She was stunned that he had not exposed her to Palpatine. The only question was… why?
"Did they approach you while I was the fresher?" She asked Bail curiously after diffusing her shock at still having a pulse after her second encounter with Darth Vader. Bail looked down sadly.
"Yes, they came to the table while you were away." He said dryly, taking another sip of wine. Padmé frowned.
"What aren't you telling me?" She asked, glancing around the table confusedly. "Where is Senator Chuchi?"
Bail glanced around nervously to be sure they weren't being watched or listened in on. "They took her, Padmé. The Storm Troopers dragged her out of the ballroom to Force knows where."
Padmé's stomach turned. "Took her?" She looked around wildly, her eyes frantic. "Did they take anyone else?"
"Calm down, Padmé." Bail said quietly, settling himself into a more relaxed position to appear unsuspicious. "The night is not yet over."
Padmé took a deep breath and looked around for a fresh glass of wine. Once she had a sip of the calming liquid she addressed Bail again. "Who else did they take, Bail." She demanded, leaning back in her chair and taking a small bite of biscuit for show.
"Onocanda Farr and Orn Free Ta," Bail whispered with dissatisfaction. Padmé gulped fearfully. Senator Farr was a good friend, and a member of the Alliance. Senator Ta was a sympathizer to the Rebellion ideas but not a confirmed member, much like Senator Chuchi. "They also took a few others, not senators, but sympathizers to the Rebellion."
"We have to help them." She exclaimed in a mortified whisper, to which Bail shook his head at her brazenness.
"There's nothing we can do right now, Padmé. All we can do is make it out of here and fight another day." Bail replied firmly. She knew he was right. She was feeling numb, tired, and dejected.
"Do you think anyone will talk?" Padmé muttered, glancing around the room with paranoia. Bail shrugged, resting his hand on her forearm in comfort.
"Only time will tell." He replied, "I have faith, however."
Padmé thought of Vader's mind probing and shivered. She wasn't sure if she had much faith at all.
"When do you think it is appropriate to leave, Bail?" She sighed, glancing out the stained glass windows at the darkness outside the palace, longing for home and the authenticity of Artoo's company. She felt tired and guilt ridden at their allies most likely facing torture while she continued on unscathed. She was a murderer after all, just like Palpatine and Vader. The thought made her ill.
"I would give it another half an hour, at the least." He said with a sigh, smiling as if they were discussing a happy memory. She took this to mean they were being watched. She laughed as if he had told a joke.
"Wonderful," She replied, "Simply marvelous." She raised her glass to clink against her friend's in cheers, leaving behind the melancholy conversation and continuing to pretend to be someone she wasn't, until it was finally time to stumble down the palace steps to freedom.
A/N: I'm back. I know it's been forever. I have not abandoned this story, I'm just mentally ill and in college. Let me know what you think. xo