As the last red dot was applied to my face, I could hear the rumbling of troops marching into my beloved city. I stared at myself in the mirror, my face covered in pure white, black feathers blooming from the elaborate black cowl framing my face. Fighting back the tears stinging in the corners of my eyes, I turned to my companion, as she pulled the red silk hood over her head.
"I should have just been a musician." She laughed the kind of choked, desperate laugh of someone trying to ignore their own panic.
"Too late to back out now, your majesty. It's time."
19 months prior
The hallikset twanged loudly as my finger slipped. I muttered a curse as fervent as it was quiet, and set it to the side so I wouldn't be tempted to throw it across the room. I understood why my parents wanted me to pursue a career in music, I really did. Unfortunately, I just... wasn't gifted. Through much suffering I'd learned to be technically proficient. But I'd never bring rapt silence to a room like my parents and older brothers did. The Theed Conservatory required its students to apply themselves to classes for five hours a day, then in addition to the formal training, practice for three. Eight hours of music a day, for three years. I felt my cursing justified. I had tried. I really had. As a child I longed for nothing more than to emulate my mother. The way her hands danced over the strings as her neck bent gracefully toward the instrument. However, the day my chubby child hands grasped my first hallikset, I was nothing but frustrated. The terrible twanging I produced sounded nothing like my parents soft melodies. My mother had laughed. "We all start like that, little one," she'd comforted me. "It won't be long before you can outplay me." As the years had marched on, though, my skill had not kept pace. No matter how much I practiced, or how hard I tried, I just didn't have that spark. I knew my parents knew. They could tell. They made a point to never say it to me, though. They were always encouraging. And they still insisted I attend the Theed Conservatory—as if my lack of talent were somehow their fault, and my instructors could succeed where they'd failed. I'd protested and begged, but they'd insisted it would be the best path for me—the best start to my future. I had wanted to do anything but play that cursed instrument the rest of my life, but with each month that passed at Theed Conservatory, other options seemed more and more impossible. I was 15–almost old enough for an apprenticeship. How could I go seek out training in another career now? My parents would never be able to afford another four years of schooling for me, and still send my three younger sisters to school as well, and if I had to pay for myself, I wouldn't be able to be an apprentice for many, many years. No one would want such an old apprentice. I was stuck. Still, I couldn't help but fantasize of something else. I didn't even know what that something else would be, but if I couldn't do something I was good at, I wished I could at least do something that mattered. Was I really going to spend the rest of my life in the back row of an orchestra, sweating and straining just to keep up? I scrubbed my hands over my face at the thought, my calluses scraping over my eyes as I tried to wipe away the bleariness.
"Tsabin?" I snapped to attention, swiping hair from my face when I saw my performance professor looking disgruntled, and by her side, a dark skinned man in what appeared to be some type of protective uniform.
"I apologize for interrupting your practice session," she began, "but you have a visitor. This is—" the man by her side interrupted her, with a glance down the hallway.
"I need to speak to Tsabin in private, Professor Sala."
"Ah. Yes." She looked even more sour at his brusque statement.
"I will leave you, then."
She sailed off without another word. I stared awkwardly at my visitor.
"Let's speak inside." I hesitated for a moment. In everything my parents had ever taught me about safety, 'don't be alone in a soundproof room with a strange man you know nothing about' was pretty high up on the list. However, I reasoned, my professor wouldn't have allowed me to talk to him if he was dangerous. Unless of course he lied to her. No, she was smarter than that. I realized I was hesitating so obviously that he was staring at me. I suppose I'd just have to be on my guard.
"You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Klito. My name is Quarsh Panaka. I've come to discuss a business proposition with you." He said in a surprisingly kind voice, particularly compared to his earlier gruffness. Despite the fact that that's exactly what someone would say if I did have something to fear from them; I felt mildly reassured. Still, as he entered, I shifted back in my seat, trying to keep my distance a bit, as I awkwardly gestured for him to take the other practice bench.
"I'll get straight to the point. My name is Quarsh Panaka, and I am head of Naboo Royal Security." He showed me a badge emblazoned with the crest of the Naboo. "Miss Klito, are you familiar with political candidate Padmé Amidala?" The name seemed to ring bells, but I really hadn't kept up with politics, particularly since I'd entered the conservatory. Of course I'd met any number of Padmes; it was a terribly common name on Naboo. But I didn't think I knew anything about this particular one.
"Sorry... I don't believe I am."
"Before she took the political name of Amidala, she was known as Padme Naberrie." Oh. OH.
"Cousin Padme?" The Naberries and Klitos were related by thin family ties—my grandmother's cousin, I believe, was Padme's great aunt. But nevertheless, we'd grown up attending the same huge family gatherings and calling each other "cousin," as it was much too complicated to figure out what the actual relationship was. We'd never been close or kept in contact outside those once a year gatherings, and I hadn't seen her since I entered the conservatory, since I hadn't been free during Family Week, as we had always called it. From the sound of it, she hadn't been free either. Now I knew why the name Amidala had sounded vaguely familiar—my mother had probably mentioned it to me that Padme was running for office. With this news, I seemed to recall she always had a bent for justice and legislation. I suddenly recalled a conversation several years ago, where she glowingly described her legislative youth program.
"Yes. Your second cousin, twice removed, Padme Naberrie has taken the political name Amidala." Second cousin twice removed. Interesting. So that was what we officially were.
"What is she running for? Governor? Province Liaison?" My guest looked as if I were spectacularly dense.
"You really haven't seen any of the holovids or read the announcements?"
"No, sorry. I've been so busy with training, and to be honest, I haven't really kept up with politics ever. I come from a family of artists, and I'm surrounded by artists." I gestured lamely at the room around me, filled with musical texts and equipment.
"Miss Klito. Padme Amidala is likely to be our next Queen of the Naboo." Gaping, I tried to process what he'd just said. Cousin Padme? Queen?
"So… I'm sorry, I don't know what that has to do with me. Are you looking to do some kind of research on her? I can't really tell you much. I haven't seen her in years."
"No, I've come with a unique proposition for you. Before I tell you, though, I'm afraid I'm going to have to have you sign this." He pulled out a piece of flimsi, adorned with official seals of the Naboo from his bag. Scanning it quickly I saw a lot of words like 'confidential,' 'silent,' and 'severe punishment.' "It's a standard non disclosure agreement' he said. "What I'm about to reveal to you is integral to our future monarch's safety, and revealed only to a select few." Awkwardly aware of his eyes on me, I tried to focus on carefully reading through the document, but the silence was unbearably awkward, and it seemed to take twice as long as it should have. Really, the general message was, if I ever revealed this conversation to anyone, I would be in a lot of trouble. Possibly life imprisonment trouble. I rubbed my eyes again.
"I…. Is this just a formality?"
"No." He said in a flat tone. "All those penalties will be enacted should you violate the agreement. But there should be no reason for you to do that, should there?"
"I suppose not." Nervously, I signed, and handed it back to him.
"Thank you. Miss Klito, it seems unlikely your answer will be yes, however, do you have any familiarity with royal security?" I shook my head awkwardly.
"Not much, no. That is… well, I watched a holo drama once about it, but I suppose that's not very accurate. I know all the normal things that everyone knows: that the Queen has a lot of security. And I know of course that her handmaidens are incredibly elite and that no one knows who they are until they've left service. But, sorry, I don't know anything else." His face was a mask, but in my unsettled and confused state I assumed he was less than thrilled with my answer. He politely told me that while I was correct, there was a bit more I was missing. Going on, he explained the structure of the Queen's security team. How there were five principle handmaidens, and nine more who served under them, and that all were trained in political science, self defense, security and military strategy, martial arts, spy craft, etiquette, and beauty techniques.
"The reason I'm telling you this," he concluded, "is we are forming Royal Candidate Amidala's security detail now. The election has proceeded into the end stages of campaign, and this is the last year before we know which of the two final candidates will be our queen." I was familiar with our election cycle—it ran three years. As soon as a queen was elevated, new candidates came forward. The Naboo felt that it was only fair for all candidates to have the same amount of time to prove themselves. If the queen currently in office wished to run again, it would be an unfair advantage for her to have those two years and the other candidates not. This year, however, the reigning queen was not running. She had served her two terms and would not run again. Panaka continued, "part of that process is preparing for decoy protocol."
"I'm sorry, as I said I'm really not familiar with security—"
"No, Miss Klito, what I am telling you now is why you signed that form. Only a very small, elite group is familiar with what I'm telling you. Each queen of the Naboo is assigned one handmaiden who is not only security in the traditional sense, but who closely resembles her enough to be able to pose as her and act on her behalf should the situation demand it." My eyes wide, I tried to process that.
"You mean… on news holos… sometimes it's not Queen Sanandrassa?"
"I'm not at liberty to comment on that, as it's not relevant to our conversation."
"Of course. Sorry. I just… I never imagined."
"I'm here today, Tsabin, because we would like to speak to you about training to become Candidate Amidala's decoy. You bear a very strong resemblance to her, and my sources tell me that you are not particularly tied to a career in music." I gaped. Attempted to reply. No words came. I tried a second time and succeeded in getting out the very intelligent phrase,
"I... What?"
"I am here to ask you to train as Candidate Padmé Amidala's decoy in the event that she becomes queen of the Naboo."
a/n thanks for reading! Important note: I have been a Star Wars fan for many years, but as someone who watches the movies and enjoys them. Not someone who's read the novels and watched all the animated series. So I am not terribly familiar with the extended universe, and I will not be getting all details of the universe correct! I've done a little research, but frankly the world is much too big for me to be able to get it all right without spending way more time than I have in my life. So I'm focusing on writing a story I hope others will enjoy and taking liberties where I want to. If that's not your thing, no stress! You just probably don't want to read this. On another small note: I am a huge fan of handmaiden fics, and couldn't resist adding something to the general collection, as it's a smaller niche with not as much to read. However, I personally think the best out there is AwayOHumanChild's To Save the Queen series. Go give it a read-it's infinitely better than I expect this will be. One last note: Do I still have to say that I don't own Star Wars? It's been so long since I wrote any fan fiction. Just for the heck of it I guess I'll let you all know. Don't own Star Wars. Obviously.