Author's Notes: This has been done before, I know, and will
be completely AU when Episodes II and III come out, but I wanted to do it, so I
did.
Disclaimer:Eirtaé, Saché, Yané, Rabé, Sabé, Padmé, Anakin
Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and all other familiar chracters
aren't mine. Tac and Tallé are my
property.
*********************************************************************************************************************************************************
I write this at the request of Padmé Amidala
Naberrie, my Queen and one of the best friends I have ever had. We will all write something like this – our
lives, recorded for posterity for the day when Luke and Leia, Padmé's tiny twins,
may at last know the truth about their father, Anakin.
My name is Eirtaé Taré. I am twenty-seven years old. This is my story.
Before I was twelve, I lived in Theed orphanage
on Naboo. I never really fitted in
there – I was always running off, getting into fights. And then on my twelfth birthday two men,
dressed in the uniform of the Naboo Palace Guard, came to the orphanage and
took me away to the Palace.
I was taken to a room with dozens of other
girls. We all looked alike, and we were
all taught the basics of self-defence.
Later, I realised that these were tests, but at the time I was just
happy to get out of the orphanage.
Anyway, these tests continued for several days, with several girls
leaving every few hours. Finally there
were only five of us, and the captain of the Palace guard came in and
introduced us to the Princess of Theed, Amidala.
We were told that we would be Amidala's
handmaidens – loyal decoys and bodyguards.
We would be taught, along with Amidala, how to use different types of
blaster and self-defence, as well as the more obvious duties of a handmaiden –
how to dress Amidala, do her hair, and generally look after her. At that time she was eleven. Sabé, Saché and Yané were also eleven, Rabé
was ten, and I was twelve.
We began training in earnest several weeks
later. It was drilled into us from the
very beginning that we were no longer individuals – we were an extension of the
queen – or princess, as she was then.
Any one of us might be called upon to stand in for her in times of
danger, and we must all be prepared both for that and to defend her.
The days, weeks and months drifted into each
other after that. We trained so hard
that we had no spare time; we were tired to the point of exhaustion when our
training finally ended. But we were
ready. Our bodies were perfectly in
shape, our dressing skills had been honed to perfection, and we had all become
close friends.
When Amidala was thirteen, she was elected Queen
of Naboo. We became her handmaidens
properly, recognised in the Palace as an authority in our own right. Hardly anyone knew our names, but they knew
to obey us almost as they would Amidala – or Padmé, as we had come to know her.
Even then, she was closest to Sabé. They were like sisters. It never mattered to us – we were never
bothered by it. Whenever Padmé switched
with one of us, it was with Sabé. She
looked most like Padmé, and they had the act down pat. None of us realised how important that act
was to become.
The next year, when I was fifteen, Rabé was
thirteen, and Sabé, Yané, Saché and Padmé were all fourteen, the Trade
Federation boycotted our planet. They
stopped all transports from getting into or out of the planet. The Senate sent Jedi Ambassadors, but the Federation
tried to kill them, and started invading the Naboo. They forced the citizens into work camps, and tried to make
Amidala sign a treaty. Padmé and Sabé
had switched places, but Sabé had been well coached on what to say. She was perfect – she hesitated only when
the Jedi arrived, rescued us, and advised her to accompany them to
Coruscant. Then she turned to us, and
said that there would be great danger.
Padmé replied that we were brave, signalling to Sabé that she should
agree.
A few minutes later, Sabé, Padmé, Saché and I
left Yané and Rabé on Naboo as we sped to Coruscant. I was later told that there was a space battle, but I did not
hear it at the time. My heart was being
wrenched from me as I left some of my closest friends behind on an invaded and
now-hostile planet. Sabé, of course,
could not comfort me, but Padmé took my hand, helping me as she always
has. Then we took up our positions in
the throne room as handmaidens.
The Jedi told Sabé/Amidala that because of the
damage of the battle, we would have to land on a small outer-rim world called
Tatooine. It was controlled by the
Hutts, but was probably one of the safest places of Queen Amidala. Sabé agreed – she had no choice really. I could almost feel Padmé's frustration as
she stood beside me. Then Sabé called
her forward to clean up the droid that had saved the ship. I swear, Sabé enjoyed ordering Padmé
about. Then they all left, and Sabé,
Saché and I were left to talk.
When we landed on Tatooine, Jedi master Qui-Gon
Jinn, the Gungan Jar Jar Binks, and R2-D2 the droid set off for the nearby
settlement, Mos Espa. Padmé raced to
Sabé, and Sabé commanded Panaka to take Padmé to the Jedi – Padmé wanted to see
the planet, and I knew she felt useless staying on the ship; we all did. It gave us handmaidens a chance to talk – we
shared everything with Padmé, but sometimes she was just too much the Queen.
Several days later, we set off plus one extra
passenger; a small boy named Anakin Skywalker.
I didn't know at the time why he was coming with us, but I could feel
Padmé's attachment to him. She even
confessed to us, when we reached the relative safety of Coruscant, that she
felt a connection to the small boy that she couldn't explain. I couldn't help glancing at Sabé – she had told
us that she found the younger Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, attractive. Saché encouraged Sabé to talk to him, but
then both Padmé and I reminded the two in no uncertain terms that they were not
here to get boyfriends, but to protect our planet. I was too harsh, I think, because I lashed out with my contained
anger, reminding them bitterly of our friends Yané and Rabé, still trapped on
Naboo. I left the room in uncomfortable
silence to find Padmé's gown.
I don't
know exactly what happened in the Senate; perhaps because of my unusual
outburst, Padmé took Sabé and Saché with her to confront the Republic, whilst I
waited in the quarters Senator Palpatine had provided for us. I was still angry – and upset at Padmé more
that at the others. She had lied to
Anakin – a boy of nine years old! I
understood why she did – of course I did, I couldn't be a handmaiden and not
understand - but it didn't make me feel
any better about it.
I went for a short walk – Saché had advised it,
'to cool off', were her exact words. I
somehow found myself in the visitors' garden of the Jedi Temple – although no
visitor was allowed in the Temple, one garden was always open to the
public. One green spot in a grey,
metallic city. I suppose people who
live there get used to it, but I never shall.
My heart belongs to the lush swamps of Naboo, and the beautiful
buildings of Theed. But in the garden,
I found Qui-Gon Jinn, our Jedi protector.
I wasn't sure whether he'd noticed me – if he had, there was no way he
could mistake who I was. I wore my
orange-and-red handmaiden robe, as always, and he would have greeted me, I
reasoned, if he had seen me.
Not wishing to disturb him, I turned away
quickly, prepared to walk down another path – not so beautiful, true, but still
interesting to me; I, who had never left Naboo – scarcely left the capital city
of Theed, in fact. But then Qui-Gon
turned towards me, motioning for me to stay.
"I'm afraid I don't remember your name," he said
with a smile. I smiled slightly in
return. "My name is of no importance,
Master Jedi," I replied to him with the standard handmaiden reply. He chuckled slightly – I will always
remember that sound – and replied that that reply would not do – he must call
me something.
And then I broke one of our most sacred rules. I told
him my name. "Eirtaé," I
replied. I realised what I'd done, and
started involuntarily. "Eirtaé," he
repeated. "What a lovely name." I told him in no uncertain terms that he
must not use it ever – "I'm not an individual, I'm an extension of the
Queen. I should not have told you my
name," I told him in anger – but the anger was directed towards myself.
"You feel helpless," he observed. I remembered the stories – Jedi could feel
your emotions. "I am helpless," I told
him in a low voice. "I can do nothing
to help my queen – and my friends on Naboo."
"The other handmaidens," he surmised.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Eirtaé, they will be alright.
The Senate will not countenance the Trade Federation's attack, they will
act, and your friends will be safe."
"But what of the others?" I cried, turning to
him as I finally let out my feelings.
"What of the citizens of Theed, of the villages- what of the
Gungans?" He asked me if I feared for
my family, and I replied that I had no family except for the handmaidens. He nodded – he knew what that was like. He had only the Jedi family.
"Being an individual and yet part of a larger
group is hard," he told me. "Yet it can
be done." But I shook my head; I
insisted that he did not understand. I was not an individual – I was part of a
group in a way that a Jedi never was. I
was obeyed as the Queen and yet my name was known to half a dozen people on
Naboo. Until the Queen was voted out of
power or until I died, my life was Amidala – my life was protecting her. I could never take a holiday, because the
Queen could never take a holiday. I
could never go on dates, or fall in love.
I could never marry or have a family until the day that my services were
no longer required.
I must have ranted for five minutes, but Qui-Gon
Jinn listened patiently to it all. I think he understood that these were not my
true feelings – I would never leave Amidala for anything – that what I was
saying was just the result of days of waiting, not being able to do anything. Anyway, I ranted until I could no longer
speak, and then I burst into tears.
Qui-Gon held me until it stopped, and I relaxed
into his strong arms. Eventually my
sobs too stopped, and Qui-Gon spoke. He
reminded me of my love for my friends and my queen that was evident in my
heart; he reminded me of my home, of my duties; he reminded me that the Senate
was even now talking with Queen Amidala.
Then he told me that I could always talk to him if I needed someone to
talk to.
At this last statement I looked up at him,
surprised. Then I saw the look in his
eyes, and I forgot my troubles for a moment.
My lips parted slightly, and I shifted slightly so that I was facing him
in his arms. He looked down, and I
could see the debate in his eyes, between his heart and his mind. I made the decision for him when I pressed
my lips against his.
I would be lying if I said that I have kissed
many men. When I was fifteen, I had
kissed a total of one man, period. This
was nothing like that. Qui-Gon was – I
can't even explain it. Maybe it's my
memory failing me – it was twelve years ago, after all. But no, that's not true. When I close my eyes I can still feel his
lips on mine. It was incredible. I knew that I could easily spend the rest of
my life with this man. I didn't care
that he was probably old enough to be my father. I had fallen in love in those few short minutes.
He pulled away, and I stepped back from the safe
circle of his arms shakily. I stared at
him, my hand moving up to feel my lips softly.
He tried to say something, but I stepped forward, pressed my finger
against his lips, silencing him. I
didn't want to hear what he would say – I knew what he'd say without him saying
it.
"It wasn't a mistake," I told him. "It was a gift." Then I slipped away, and returned just a few moments after a
seething Padmé and the others.
They didn't ask me where I'd been, and didn't
comment on the strange lost look in my eyes.
They didn't say anything when I stood, staring out of the window, clenching
my robe in my hands as my knuckles turned white. They even stayed quiet as I rested my forehead against a cool
window. But they did say something when
a single tear streaked down my face.
"Eirtaé!" Padmé exclaimed, ignoring for the
moment her own worries and rushing to my side, followed my Saché and Sabé. They were worried – they had never seen me
cry, not in all the years they had known me.
I was Eirtaé, the strong one, the oldest one. I was the dependable one – I could be counted on to never show
emotion. I suppose that's why my recent
outburst and this tear made them so concerned.
I was just glad that little Rabé – she was still little Rabé to me –
wasn't here to see this.
"I'm fine," I brushed their concern off. "Please, you have more important things to
worry about." Padmé shook her
head. "Eirtaé, what happened?" she
coaxed.
Sabé looked at me, and knew. "You've fallen in love," she said, almost an
accusation. Saché looked at me in
surprise. "Who is it?" Sabé continued,
a little ruthlessly.
"Sabé," Padmé admonished her friend. Sabé looked ashamed. Saché pursed her lips. "It's Qui-Gon, isn't it?" Padmé asked
softly. I made no reply, another tear
falling to join the salty stream on my face.
"Oh, Eirtaé." Padmé held me as
silent tears streamed down my face, and Sabé and Saché held me too.
I stopped crying with difficulty, and pulled
away from my friends to wash and dry my face.
Then I turned back to the silent three and tried to smile. "We'd better get you changed," I said to Padmé,
my voice catching slightly. "It does no
good to dwell on the maybes."
Padmé looked at me silently, reassuringly, then
nodded. We would not talk of me now.
There is no point in my recording the days
between then and our return to Naboo – it is enough for me to say that we did
return, against Senator Palpatine's wishes.
Padmé felt too useless though; she knew that she could do no more good
here. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were
commanded to come with us for protection, and I felt a secret thrill when I saw
him again, even though I hid it with a composure a Jedi would envy. We had no time to talk; Amidala explained
her strategy to them once we had left Coruscant, and then Padmé and Sabé
switched so that Padmé was a handmaiden and was free to talk to me. Sabé summoned me to the bedchamber, where
Padmé was waiting, talking quietly to Anakin.
When I entered, Anakin looked up, slightly
disappointed, but Padmé said something in a low voice to him, and he leapt up,
hugged her tightly, and ran past me. I
gave Padmé a strange look before collapsing on a chair.
"What happened, Eirtaé?" Padmé asked me
softly. I opened my eyes and sat up,
serious. "I went for a walk, and ended
up in the Jedi garden. Qui-Gon was
there, and suddenly…I just let it all out, Padmé."
"Let what out?" Padmé asked me curiously. I shook my head pleadingly. "Don't ask me what, Padmé. I can't tell you." She looked hurt. "It's
too confusing for even me to understand," I tried to explain. "But that's not the point. He gave me a shoulder to lean on, and told
me that I could always talk to him." My
voice took on a dreamy quality – or so Padmé told me later. "I looked at him, and he looked at me, and
suddenly we were kissing." I looked
back at Padmé, my eyes sharp. "I'm in
love, Padmé. I love Qui-Gon Jinn."
Padmé took a moment to reply, and I let her
think. I had all the time in the
world. "Eirtaé," she started
eventually, "Are you sure? It was only
one kiss, and you hardly know him – and remember, he's a Jedi. He can't be tied down to one place, and you
have responsibilities too."
"I know that," I told her. "I don't know why this happened, Padmé, I
just know it did." She looked at me
silently, and finally nodded. "If
you're sure," she said evenly. "I am,"
I said. Then Padmé's eyes raised over
my head to look at someone at the door.
I didn't have to be a Jedi to know who it was, especially since Padmé
immediately looked straight back at me, noting the slight colour in my cheeks. She hugged me and kissed my cheek, then rose
and hurried out past the tall Jedi, pausing slightly to give him a meaningful
glance before leaving us,
I said nothing, not even looking at him as I
stood and fidgeted with a robe draped over one of the beds. It was Saché's. I noted randomly. I picked it up, smoothed the creases, and
folded it with a briskness that astonished even myself.
Then Qui-Gon took the robe from me and replaced
it on the bed. He led me over to a
couch and I followed almost blindly.
"We need to talk," he told me gently. I took a
breath and nodded. "You
start," I said with a small smile.
He nodded.
"Why did you kiss me?" he asked finally. I looked at him almost incredulously. Didn't he know, this all-powerful Jedi?
"You know why," I told him, a little sharply. He shook his head. "I want you to tell me," he urged. I bit my lip and looked at my hands. He gave me the time I needed to answer. At last I pushed off the hood of my robe and looked at him.
"Because I'm in love with you," I said. Tact was never my strong point. He didn't show any sign of surprise. "I don't know why you kissed me," I
continued quickly, before I lost my nerve, "but that's why I kissed you."
Then suddenly his lips were on mine again, and I
was clutching him like a lifeline. "I love
you," I heard him murmur as he drew back for a moment for breath, I couldn't reply – my mouth was pressed
against him. I moaned into him, and
pulled wildly at his cloak. His hands
were tangled in my hair, which was falling out of its ties.
I'm not going to go into details here – what
happened then was private and personal, and is so close to my heart that I will
never share it with anyone. The only
people who know are Padmé, Sabé and Saché, and even they don't know all of
it. At least – Padmé does. Qui-Gon and I were lying in each others arms
on my bed, and she walked in to fetch something. She saw us, turned bright red, and bolted faster than a bantha.
I will not recount what happened in the two days
following our lovemaking. It is too
painful for me, and no doubt Padmé has dwelt on this. We retook Theed, and the Naboo, with the help of the
Gungans. Padmé revealed herself to be
Amidala.
Anakin destroyed the droid control ship. But something more important than that
happened.
When we entered the Palace to retake it, a Sith
Lord appeared. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan said
that they would handle this, and our group split up – Padmé led one and Sabé
led the other. I was with Padmé.
We had just retaken the throne room when the
tenuous bond that had formed between Qui-Gon and myself jerked, causing a pain
in my heart and mind that made me fall to the floor, gasping. Padmé was by my side in an instant, but my
eyes were closed, blindly searching for my love. I struggled to breath as the bond disappeared. It didn't snap, as it would have if Qui-Gon
had died instantly, but this was almost worse – Qui-Gon was in pain when he
died. Worse than that – Qui-Gon was
dead.
I scrambled to my feet, ignoring Padmé's order
to stay, to wait for medical care. I
lurched to the door, opened it, and ran down the hall, I paid no attention to
the calls of the guards, or of my friends.
I only knew I had to find Qui-Gon.
My feelings and instinct led me down to the
electrical energy core. I had to wait
as the red force fields went through their cycle and moved, then I ran through
as fast as I could.
I just barely reached the other side when the
fields went up again, and my heart stopped as I caught my breath. Obi-Wan sat on the floor, cradling his
master's head in his arms.
"No," I whispered. The Jedi apprentice looked up at me, showing a tear-streaked
face. I barely glanced at him, my eyes
were on Qui-Gon. "No!" I almost slid to kneel opposite Obi-Wan, clutching
the dead Jedi's chest as if I could somehow bring him back to life.
"Eirtaé," I heard. I looked up into Obi-Wan's eyes.
He was shocked at whatever emotion he saw in my eyes. "He's gone." I shook my head, blindly refusing to accept it. "He can't be," I said, my voice seeming
detached from my body, from my mind.
"He can't be dead." I looked
down at his still-warm form, at his closed eyes. My eyes moved downwards to the cauterised hole in his chest. I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes. "This can't be happening to me," I heard
myself say. "I love you, Qui-Gon. You can't be dead."
Then more people filled the area, and I felt
soft hands pull me away from Qui-Gon's body.
I looked up, barely focusing on Saché's comforting presence. I shook her off, trying to reach for Qui-Gon
again. But Obi-Wan stopped me. "He's gone, Eirtaé," he said in a hard
voice. "You can't bring him back." Saché looked at him amazed.
"Can't you see anything?" she seethed, sounding
just like Yané in a temper. She helped
me out of there, leading me to my rooms, adjacent to Padmé's. There I stayed for two days, coming to terms
as much as I ever would with my grief.
When I finally entered the common area of our
rooms, all five of my friends were there, ready to help me. Rabé insisted that I be checked over by a
medical droid, and meekly I submitted.
I let Rabé and Yané lead me to the main infirmary, and let the medical
droid scan me as the two waited.
"You are fine," the droid said in its mechanical
voice. "Your five-day-old child is
well. You have sustained no
injuries. You may leave." It wheeled away but I sat in shock.
I had a child.
My hand crept to my womb. I
slowly became aware of Yané and Rabé staring at me in shock.
"Qui-Gon's?" came another voice from the
door. I turned my head to focus on
Qui-Gon. I nodded quickly to Yané and
Rabé, indicating that they should leave.
Like proper, trained handmaidens, they did.
"Yes," I whispered when they had gone. "It must be."
After the celebration, Obi-Wan and Anakin left
with the Jedi Council. Padmé started
working on reconstruction of Naboo, helping people readjust. We handmaidens did our normal work, until I
started showing and Padmé ordered me to rest.
Five months after that, Tallé Taré was born. My beautiful baby daughter had Qui-Gon's
eyes and my hair. Padmé pretty much
retired me from being a handmaiden for a year – maternity leave, or something
like that. I missed it though, so as
soon as Tallé was two, I returned to the Palace as her handmaiden again. Tallé was looked after in the Palace nursery
whilst I worked.
By then I was eighteen. Padmé was seventeen. A year later, she was voted out as
Queen. She moved, with all of us
handmaidens, to a country house. We
lived together as we always had – except Padmé could no longer order us
about. My friends all adored Tallé, and
it was good to live with them.
Anakin and Obi-Wan visited as often as they
could. The romances between Sabé and
Obi-Wan and Padmé and Anakin blossomed, and Obi-Wan and I grew to be good
friends. Still, it pained me every time
I saw either of them – especially with my friends. They had what I was denied.
They had love.
But I always banished such thoughts, reminding
myself that Qui-Gon would have said I was just letting my feelings get the
better of me.
Then, when Padmé was twenty-four, she moved to
Coruscant to be the Senator for the Naboo.
Sabé moved with her to be closer to Obi-Wan. Saché, who had fallen in love with someone who lived near to us,
married him just before they left, and moved out with him. Yané, Rabé, Tallé and I were the only ones
left. I felt almost lost. My friends, who had always been there for me
– or at least, for as long as I could remember they'd been there for me.
Then, two years later, Padmé returned with
Anakin. They were married – Padmé was
pregnant. Padmé told me that Sabé and
Obi-Wan would come back soon too. When
this happened, Tallé was nine years old.
She knew all of them, of course, and was so excited when they returned.
One day, we all went out to the nearby lake for
a picnic. I was relaxing in the
sunlight with Sabé when I heard a high scream, and yells from Anakin and Yané.
My heart almost stopped as I leapt up and
frantically scanned the area for Tallé.
She wasn't there, and I could see bubbles
floating on the surface of the lake.
Anakin was wading towards the place as fast as he could, and Padmé held
me from going in after him.
It seemed like an eternity. Time slowed, or stopped altogether. I saw Anakin go below the surface, then
minutes later rise again without Tallé.
He went below again. This was
repeated several times, and then, finally, he came up with a tiny body. Tallé.
She had been caught in the weeds at the bottom of the lake.
Anakin swam to the shore and started trying to
resuscitate the tiny girl. I couldn't
move; I was frozen with fear. My
friends – the former handmaidens, the Jedi – they all crowded around my
daughter. Then Anakin stopped, and
looked up at me. His blue eyes were
full of sorrow, and the force of them made me gasp.
I staggered backwards, falling to the
ground. I couldn't cry; my eyes were
dry, and there was a roaring in my ears.
It took me forever to work out that it was my heartbeat. I felt people surround me, and I broke away,
standing calmly and walking. I walked
straight into out house and into the kitchen.
I could hear them following me, but I didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered now.
I found the sharpest kitchen knife I could just
as Padmé came into the kitchen. Without
looking at her, I raised the knife to my wrists and slashed first one, then the
other. I heard Padmé's horrified
exclamation, and then her voice mingled with the others. I couldn't distinguish any separate voice
now. My vision grew black, and I
fainted.
I was kept in hospital for months. I was only let out for my daughter's
funeral. I was lucky. I missed the worst of Anakin's change. I was told all about it by Obi-Wan, and
warned that he might come to find me to get to Padmé. I didn't care. I'd lost
the two things that meant more to me than Padmé and the girls. I'd lost the will to live along the way.
I sit here now in my hospital bed and hear the
cries of the orderlies as Darth Vader, the monster that Anakin has become,
destroys them all. I know that soon he
will be here, searching for the location of Padmé. I don't know where she is.
Sabé told me that it's best I don't know. I will miss her – if I can miss her in whatever is to come.
He will kill me. I know that. I can almost
hear Qui-Gon whispering that he is here – he is waiting for me with Tallé. I am just waiting for Darth Vader to come
and use his dark powers to strangle me.
That's what he did to Yané, I've heard.
My name is Eirtaé Taré. I am twenty-seven years old. This was my life, as Padmé commanded me to
write it. I hope that this knowledge
brings good to your life. It has never
brought good to mine,
