I am writing this because my dear friend,
Padmé Amidala Naberrie, has asked us all to write this for her children, so
that they may know the truth behind our lives. So I include this note; Luke and Leia Skywalker, you have a great name
to live up to. You go with all of our
love.
My name is Yané Xangherré. I am twenty-six years old. This is my tale.
I know Saché thought that we would all start
ours when we met for the first time, but I do not start mine there. I start mine when Padmé became Queen. It was a major time for me – I became a
handmaiden, and I fell in love. I know
what Padmé would say if she read this – 'Oh, Yané, you were thirteen, how could
you have fallen in love?' – but as no one ever knew about it, it didn't matter.
In my fourteenth year, the Trade Federation
put a trade boycott on my planet, the Naboo. Jedi Ambassadors were called in, but eventually Padmé had to leave the
planet disguised as a handmaiden whilst Sabé took her place as queen. I didn't go with them, nor did Rabé. Only Saché and Eirtaé could be taken. But Rabé and I were brave. We were strong.
We never told anyone what happened whilst we
were held captive on Naboo. We were
held in our adjoining quarters – the ones that were all interconnected, I mean
- so we could talk to each other, at least.
We were tortured for Padmé's location
daily. We didn't know where she was, of
course, but even if we had, we wouldn't have said. We were handmaidens. We
would not betray our Queen.
At night we huddled together in my bed. And that was when Rabé discovered my love for
her.
She was only thirteen, and she sat there
looking so scared. I couldn't help her
to not be scared – so I kissed her.
Even now, I'm not sure that I even did
it. Rabé will tell you that I did. But from then on I comforted her. We became extremely involved in a very short
time – there was no one else to walk in on us. Once the others returned, I knew in my mind, we would have to be more
careful. But then, even in the midst of
an invasion, we became all in all to each other.
I remember the first time we made love. It was after Rabé had seen her elder brother
shot by battle droids in the square outside our window. Her skin was slightly salty to my
tongue. We fitted together as if we
were made for each other.
We were both virgins before that night. Three days after that, Padmé returned. Saché set us free from our quarters, and
then we went up to the throne room. We
embraced Padmé and Sabé, thrilled to see them alive, and then saw Eirtaé
kneeling on the floor in agony. Padmé
sprang to her side – it wasn't difficult to see that something had happened to
Eirtaé whilst they were away. Then
Eirtaé ran along to corridors. We all
called out to her, but she either ignored us or she didn't hear us.
Padmé led the way, as always, to the energy
core where Eirtaé had unknowingly taken us. We had to wait for the red force fields to rotate slowly through their
circle. We waited for an eternity, it
seemed. I could almost hear Eirtaé's
cries.
We finally reached her, to be confronted with
the sight of the Jedi Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Eirtaé holding the dead body
of the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn to them. Eirtaé's small frame was wracked with sobs, and I, to my eternal regret,
could only stand and watch. It was
Padmé that soothed her, Saché that carried her away to our rooms. It was Obi-Wan who stopped her from holding
Qui-Gon's body forever.
And I merely stood there. I could not grieve for a man I had not
known. Rabé, standing slightly behind
me, felt the same, I knew. We grieved
for the Naboo people because we were the handmaidens – we protected the queen,
who was Naboo in every sense of the word. And so we really protected Naboo. We grieved for our families, and for our friends.
We would grieve for a great Jedi who was
dead, but we could not grieve as Padmé did, as Saché and Sabé did – as Eirtaé
did. Instead, we returned with Padmé to
the throne room to take our rightful places behind her as the handmaidens.
Then, when Eirtaé finally left her room
several days later, Rabé and I accompanied her to the medical room. She was told that both she and her child
were born. I will never forget the look
on her face as long as I live. Her eyes
held such longing, even as her chin trembled and her lips quivered from fear
and sorrow. Obi-Wan entered, and we
realised what had happened in those days whilst Padmé had been away from Naboo.
Like Rabé and I, Eirtaé had fallen in
love. Her love was dead, killed by the
Sith.
We left her, and hurried back to our friends. The expressions on our faces gave away
nothing, as we had been taught. For
once, though, I wished that my friends had been able to read my eyes. I was desperately trying to tell them what
had happened.
That night, Rabé and I joined in the most desperate
lovemaking yet. We'd seen what love
could do to people, and yet we clung to our growing love. We still hid it from our friends; the first
secret since we had known each other.
The next few years raced by. There were incidents worth keeping in my
heart, of course, but none worth noting in here. None of them relate to what this writing is intended for. I had best skip to when I was eighteen, and
Padmé was voted out of power on Naboo. All of us moved to a house in the country – including Tallé, Eirtaé's
sweet daughter. We lived there for four
years undisturbed. Rabé and I grew even
closer, and Padmé and Sabé paired off with Anakin and Obi-Wan – even Saché, the
untouchable ice-maiden, fell in love. Eirtaé remained, as always, silent and unreachable.
Then, finally, Saché married her love. Padmé and Sabé moved away to be
senators. Our family was finally
breaking up, after nearly fifteen years off bliss. I should have been sad, but really, I was too busy to miss the
girls that were almost sisters to me. Eirtaé looked after Tallé, but Rabé and I looked after the house,
cooked, cleaned…you name it, we did it.
This next part isn't really my story to tell,
but I'll mention it here because it was really the beginning of the end. Tallé drowned. We were all at the nearby lake, and Tallé got tangled up in
weeds. Anakin couldn't reach her in
time. Eirtaé, my big sister, tried to
kill herself.
As I write this, Padmé and Sabé are somewhere
in hiding. Eirtaé is in a mental
hospital – we all know she isn't mad, but the authorities think otherwise. Obi-Wan has gone to confront the evil that
sweet little Anakin Skywalker has become. Later today, Saché and her husband Tac will come round so that we all
can talk. Rabé and I will share a last
embrace, and then we will scatter ourselves like seeds on the wind. I hope we will find each other again, if we
must separate. Somehow, I feel that we
will not for a long time.
My name is Yané Xangherré. I am twenty-six years old. This was my life. As I conclude this, I have a feeling that I am not long for this
world. I just wish to say to those
little twins, Luke and Leia, that all my love goes with them. I would that my love could protect them from
the evils of this world.