~*~*~*~*~*~
The edgy heat of a late spring sun beat down on Sabé's head as she paused to suck on her sore fingers. A wide-brimmed hat protected her fair neck from the worst of the sun's effects, but it was still excessively warm.
Naestral's Grove was the largest farm on all of Naboo, famous not only for the superior plombs that grew in its orchards, but also for various products derived from the plombs such as jellies, candies, and wine. The wealthy Daris family held controlling interest in the plantation, which was advantageous for Naboo. Kosoc Daris was a prominent ambassador offworld, and he used his influence to create strong export ties for not only Naestral's Grove, but other farmers and merchants of Naboo as well.
Oxon was the regional seat of this section of Naboo, about a third way around the planet east of Theed, and further towards the south. Which explained the nearly tropical heat to be found at this point in the spring. The area was prominently agriculture, its rich soil nearly black it was so full of life.
While many other farmers in the area had taken advantage of heavy droid labor in recent centuries, the Daris family would not stand for it. Though considerably more expensive, they had always stubbornly clung to manual labor. Even today, Kosoc Daris insisted that jobs would always be available at Naestral's Grove as long as people needed them. It was perhaps for this reason that the Daris family had long represented the Oxon region in parliament, just as the Naberrie's had always represented Naboo on the throne. The family's oldest daughter, Maia was currently serving that position. Sabé knew her very well, and at this moment, bitterly wished she were with Maia in Theed instead of here at Naestral's Grove.
Plombs were a beautiful, delicious, refreshing fruit. Dark purple and extremely juicy, it was a matter of pride for noble girls to eat them without staining either their skin or their clothing. The skin of the plomb was covered in tiny, delicate, fuzzy hair, which was soft and delightful to the touch. At least at first. But after several hours of hand-picking plombs, the fuzz began to irritate the skin, the fine hairs causing itchiness, and picking them was a very refined form of torture. Which was exactly why Sabé had been send out to the high orchards today with strict instructions that she was to pick plombs for five straight hours with no gloves.
She scowled darkly and sucked harder on her tender, purple-stained finger. Yesterday she and the house's other daughter, Camille, had exploded into a very vocal and eventually physical argument that had been brewing steadily over the course of Sabé's residence here, and today they were both paying the consequences.
Where Maia Daris was open, bright, smart, and friendly, her younger sister Camille was just a plain spoiled brat, in Sabé's opinion. She wasn't nearly as pretty as her sister either, and had always tried too hard to fit in with the other girls in court. Sabé always found her blustering to be very tedious when she came to Naboo.
On her home turf, however, Camille was far more formidable an opponent, and had clearly taken supreme pleasure at Naestral's Grove being chosen as the locale for Sabé's public humbling. While not ever actually doing anything overt, her smirks at Sabé when the adults weren't looking, as well as her refusal to help Sabé when she struggled with her ignorance of plantation ways, had gotten under the Princess's skin and finally reached a boiling point last night. She'd confronted Camille, demanding loudly in less than Princess-like terms what her problem was. Things had gone downhill from there.
Sabé glanced over her shoulder where Camille was also dutifully picking plombs. She buried a small seed of guilt deep into her resentment, trying her best to eradicate it. The fact that Camille had not really been responsible for the fight hadn't escaped Sabé, but then she would remember Camille's behavior that had induced her own anger, and any feelings of guilt quickly subsided.
Camille had been very careful to avoid meeting Sabé's eye today, and true to form, she now gave no indication that she knew Sabé was watching her. Four of their required five hours were already passed, but the fifth would be agony. Not only were Sabé's fingers raw and suffering, but her back and shoulders ached, and the heat of the sun seemed to be sapping all strength directly from her veins.
Sabé may have gotten off more lightly in different circumstances. The steward of the plantation, a very gentlemanly and kind man, was obviously very sensitive to the status of his important guest. Sabé knew that he might have treated her less rigidly, but there were unfortunately two factors working against her in this case. The first was that the fellow subject of her punishment was the daughter of the house. She had grossly offended her hosts, and that was not right for anyone, no matter what their station. The second was that Sabé had not come to Naestral's Grove alone. Her mother had sent Eullie with her.
The chief handmaiden was one of the few people outside Sabé's immediate family who could successfully detach herself from Sabé's position. The fact that Sabé was a Princess mattered very little to Eullie, at least when it came to disciplining her. Although secretly disappointed by her mother's action, she had to acknowledge Leiandra's wisdom in sending Eullie to the plantation to be Sabé's watchdog. With Eullie there to constantly assure the steward that he would not offend the Crown by punishing its Princess, the man seemed much more easily able to do it. And the heavens knew that Sabé often times required much punishing.
She sighed heavily, and reached up to massage her right shoulder, taking no care for the plain brown workdress she wore. The ugly thing was already covered in multiple purple stains. Then she turned back to her work.
Sabé desperately longed for Theed, and the clean, cool marble halls of the palace. Very little about Naestral's Grove had been enjoyable. A third of her time was spent in study, for her lessons could not go neglected during her time in Oxon. The rest of the time was divided between manual labor and tagging along after the steward, learning the business and supervisory aspects of running such an extensive corporation. That at least was interesting to her, as business and economics were by far her best subjects in school. But picking plombs… if she never saw a plomb again in her life she would be only too happy.
If the point of sending her to Naestral's Grove was to make her appreciate more her pampered life in Theed, then she acknowledged it openly. She rather thought that having admitted as much, she should be able to return home. But somehow she had a feeling that this was not quite the change that would satisfy her mother and father.
The only bright spot in the whole experience was Rory Daris, the brother of Maia and Camille, and legal heir of the whole estate. He was younger than Maia, but she had already abdicated her title in favor of devoting all her time to her political career in Theed. Rory was handsome and charming, and had been playfully flirting with Sabé ever since her arrival. They'd even shared a few light, enjoyable kisses among the trees on occasion. They both knew the relationship was nothing serious. She had a feeling that they were both mostly just bored. But it was a pleasant distraction among all the tediousness of her new life.
Sabé wiped beads of sweat off her brow with the scratchy sleeve of her dress and focused on her most recent letter from Padmé to distract her from her suffering.
Dear Sabé
Thank-you ever so much for your last letter. I'm sorry you're having a hard time of it, but just remember, you're now already halfway done. Three more months and you'll come back to us, and I will enjoy a good laugh over your brown nose, my dear sister. I'm sure you look quite becoming with a little color in your skin, despite all your protests.
University life is very demanding. I have not had a chance to make many friends yet, as I'm still trying to adjust to a schedule that allows me to get all this bookwork done in a timely manner.
Sabé chuckled to herself. No doubt Padmé was doing three times the amount of 'bookwork' than was actually necessary, but she knew her sister geared almost everything she did toward her eventual appointment as Queen of Naboo. Padmé was the rare scholar who embraced her education as a genuine opportunity, rather than something that must be endured. If she studied something that did not end up on an examination, she did not mourn the time she used up in learning it.
I got a chance to see Claria yesterday. She came to campus with some treats and some books I'd requested from the Royal libraries for my research. It was so good to see her. Although I see everyone more than you, of course, it is still strange and lonely to live a life apart from the family. I'm almost sure she's gotten taller. Which reminds me, do you have any ideas for a birthday gift for her coming up soon?
Sabé had been a bit surprised upon reading the letter when she realized that Claria's birthday was nearly upon them. She would be twelve, which was generally acknowledged as the age of accountability on Naboo. When you were twelve you could vote, drive a speeder, and get a job. And in the case of the Royal family, be eligible to run for office, though Sabé doubted Claria had any such aspirations. Everyone recognized that Padmé Amidala had been destined for the throne since her childhood.
So the question of a gift for Claria was very important. It would most likely be presented to her at her coming out party, which would be one of the main social events of the year. And which, Sabé realized, she would certainly be called home for. The thought was a boost to her spirits.
I really wish you were here with me, Sabé. You and that photographic memory of yours. Last week I took an exam that asked me to list the chief exports of Bimmissari, and all I could do was stare at the exam thinking, 'Sabé would know this.'
Sabé smiled. Pure iren ore and textiles, she thought to herself with satisfaction. Someday she would like to be an ambassador, like Lord Daris. She knew she was exceptionally well suited for it.
Much of the remainder of Padmé's letter also focused on various aspects of her scholastic life, which Sabé read with respectful interest but less than fascination. She could not imagine why Padmé always assumed Sabé shared her passion for learning, but all Sabé's efforts to convince her otherwise had never born fruit. So now she was well-versed in humoring her sister.
The letter concluded by asking Sabé to extend Padmé's wishes to the Daris family. She planned to extend this greeting to Rory, not to Camille, as they were currently the only two members of the family actually in residence.
Tonight she was going to take a very long hot bath to ease the soreness of her shoulders and nurse her wounded dignity. Then perhaps she'd read a book or watch a holo…
The sound of frantic footsteps rushing down the orchard lane toward the two girls distracted Sabé from her planning. She adjusted the heaving basket on her hip and turned to see young Metty, the steward's assistant, rushing towards them as quickly as his short legs would allow. His round, youthful face was flushed with exertion, and when he stopped, he had to take a moment to catch his breath before he was able to speak.
"Princess," he gasped, looking wild-eyed at Sabé, "you have to come back to the house right away."
Slightly confused, she cocked her head. "We still have three quarters of an hour…" The boy shook his head insistently, interrupting her before she'd finished the words.
"Not anymore. You need to go home."
A cold fear inexplicably washed over her body. "What is it?" she asked, almost fearfully.
The boy's eyes were wide and frightened. "The queen has been assassinated," he whispered hoarsely.
Sabé looked over at Camille Daris and knew that the horrified shock on Camille's face was surely echoed on her own ninefold. Another wave of coldness rushed over her. The world seemed to whirl and slip beneath her feet, as a veil of darkness slipped over her eyes, and she tumbled to the ground in a faint.
*~*~*~*~*~
A selected fleet of armored speeders escorted Sabé along the final approaches to Theed palace. Security was at a heightened level she'd never before witnessed in her lifetime. Alone in the back seat of an unobtrusive gray vehicle, Sabé retreated deeper into her dark hooded cloak, feeling lonely and very cold, despite the warm and sunny sunshine just outside. This last stretch of road keeping her apart from the remainder of her family seemed longer by far than had the rest of her journey combined.
She had not yet cried. Throughout the endless evening of frantic packing at Naestral's Grove, through the equally endless night of sleepless shock, through the mundane journey in the back of this lonely speeder, not once had she cried. She felt as if she could not be allowed such a luxury until she surrounded herself with some sort of comfort. Instead she had retreated into silence, saying little or nothing to those around her.
A detached portion of her mind idly wondered if this behavior was causing any worry on the part of Eullie, who had faithfully monitored Sabé throughout the long night and evening. But she did not care. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
How did this happen? And why? There had not been an assassination among the Naboo aristocracy for many, many years. Perhaps they had become accustomed to the peace of their planet. Perhaps they had naively assumed that such violence could not possibly harm quiet Naboo.
At long last, the speeder came to a smooth halt in front of the private family gates on the northern wing of the palace. For a moment Sabé held her motionless pose, staring straight ahead with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Part of her was eager to run inside, find her family, cling on to them tightly, and never let them go again. But another part of her wanted to remain in this speeder forever; it was as if she were under a spell. Maybe, just maybe all the past day had been a nightmare she would wake up from at any moment. But if she went inside, she would no longer be able to hide from reality.
The door of the speeder opened suddenly to her left, and she gave a little start. "My lady," prompted the guard quietly.
Sabé stared at him a moment, then the haze around her finally seemed to dissipate, and she nodded quickly. She gave him her hand, and he assisted her out the door.
Padmé was already waiting on the stone steps. Her beautiful features looked heavy and careworn, as if she had aged forty years overnight. A burst of adrenaline rushed through Sabé at the sight of her, and she lifted her skirts and ran up the stairs to hold her sister.
"Oh Sabé!" cried Padmé in a shaky voice when they'd pulled apart. Her beautiful dark eyes were ruddy and swollen; clearly she had already succumbed to tears. "I'm so glad you're here. We need you desperately."
Padmé said nothing else, only took Sabé's arm in her hand and led her up the remaining stairs and through the doors. Sabé's stony defenses were already beginning to crumble, as she looked at the familiar surroundings of her childhood home. She wished desperately that this moment were the last time she'd been in this hallway, rather than this moment. Her mother had hugged her goodbye and told her to behave herself.
Down abandoned corridors and lifeless rooms they walked steadily, heading for a destination Sabé wasn't sure she wanted to reach. Everything seemed almost haunted and surreal. Places she'd grown up loving seemed to her almost sinister now, as if they taunted her with memories that now would never be anything more. She turned her eyes away from the shadows in the corners and hid her face beneath her cloak again.
It was a relief to finally emerge into a fully lit room, which at least bespoke that life still continued. Guards and servants milled about, talking in low murmuring voices. Sabé spied several members of parliament gathered there as well. Padmé led her straight through everyone towards a door in the back of the room. Sabé could feel their looks of sympathy and sadness falling upon her as she passed, but she could not bring herself to look at anyone.
Padmé quickly ushered her through the back door and closed it neatly behind her, letting out a long breath as she did so. She seemed to have relaxed a little. Sabé took this as a cue and pushed back her hood. Turning, she saw the rest of her family was already gathered there.
Richard was the first her eyes fell upon. He was dressed in a simple suit of plain, dark gray cloth. In the surrounding chaos of the day, someone had clearly overlooked attending to his hair, for his dark brown curls were wild and unruly. His usually rosy face was pale and tired, and upon seeing his sister he let out a small sob and ran to her as fast as his short legs would allow. Sabé was on her knees in an instant, arms outstretched and ready to receive him. She buried her head in his chest as he sobbed against her.
After a moment, she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. Reluctantly, she let her brother go and stood to embrace Claria as well. Where Padmé's entire face seemed to have aged, Claria's had not. Her features were still as calm and composed as ever. Only her brown eyes betrayed her grief. They seemed even larger than usual, and filled her whole face with sorrow.
At long last, Sabé turned to her father. He smiled sadly at her and beckoned. She did not run, but walked purposefully towards him, allowing him to envelop her in his arms. He reached down and kissed her head affectionately. "It's good to have you home, my little maati," he whispered.
Surrounded by her family to give her strength, she finally asked the question she had not dared to ask until now. "What happened?"
Armand Maloine walked over her over to a nearby settee and drew his daughter down beside him, taking her hand. The other children gathered around as well, and Sabé drew Richard into her lap. She took comfort in his dependence, even though he really was getting a bit big for this sort of thing.
"It was yesterday morning," her father said weakly. Each word came out rather reluctantly. And before he even continued, Sabé knew without a doubt that he had been there. "You mother and I were walking in the eastern garden here, as we do every morning this time of year. I always treasured that time alone with her, without ceremony or any public maneuvering to keep us apart. Now I wish I had not been so foolish. Such a predictable, routine behavior. If only we had gone somewhere different every day. If only… But your mother loved that garden." Claria reached over and squeezed his shoulder affectionately, and he reached up and grasped her small hand.
"A sniper took her down. The guards have traced his location to the roof of the parliament building. Not ridiculously far, but farther than they've ever made security sweeps for." He released Claria's hand and ran his hand through his hair. "I called for help and the guards were already spurred into action, but…we never had a chance. She was already fading."
"But she was still alive? Did she say anything?" Sabé asked eagerly.
Armand nodded slowly. "You're mother always knew what to say. She told me she loved me. 'Tell Padmé to be strong,' she said, 'and do not let fear creep into the Crown of Naboo. Tell Sabé that pride is not always an ill quality, and that her pride will eventually find its proper place in her life. To Claria… keep her instrument's strings always in tune and never stop singing. And Richard…'" here their father reached out and touched his son's cheek with tears in his eyes. " 'To my baby, be good for your mama, and mind your sisters. Learn from your father, and let your smile infect the universe.'" Sabé smiled sadly at these last words, and marveled how their mother had known exactly what all of them had needed to hear. Padmé would be anxious for advice, and Claria for something true to life and close to home. Richard would be eager to know how his mother expected him to behave. And Sabé… Sabé would want assurance that her mother still loved her, despite all the problems she had caused over the years.
"I know she was very proud of you all, as I am. She died there in the garden with me."
"What of the investigation?" Sabé asked urgently. "Have they made any headway in catching the culprit?"
Armand shook his head sadly. "Not yet, though they've been working on the problem nonstop since yesterday. They've investigated her wounds and determined the kind of weapon it was that the sniper was using. That could be perhaps a starting point." He sighed heavily.
"And what will happen to the Crown?" Sabé asked curiously. She knew of course that it would at some point go to her sister, but she wasn't sure what would happen in the interim.
"Apparently I am in charge for now," her father said wearily. "We will need to organize a fast-paced election. He looked at his two oldest daughters. You will both be expected to run, and Governer Bibble has agreed to run as well. He is a distant cousin, you know."
"Why?" Sabé asked, suddenly rather annoyed. "We all know Padmé is going to win. Why bother having an election at all? Just crown her and be done with it."
"We are a democracy, Sabé," her sister supplied quietly. "We must continue to function as one, despite how our traditions might have swayed things."
Sabé still thought it rather ridiculous, but she knew that arguing the point would be fruitless. She nodded and got to her feet shakily.
"You must be tired," Claria suddenly said with concern. "Richard, run and fetch Rabé. Tell her to get a hot bath and a meal ready for Sabé. Hurry!" Richard looked relieved to have something to do, and he nodded eagerly, turning on his heel and hurrying from the room.
"Tomorrow we will prepare your mother for the temple," Armand said to his daughters. "The funeral will be just after nightfall. I must now go fulfill my duties to these people who have come to pay their respects." He already looked weary at the prospect, but nevertheless determined.
The three girls nodded mutely and watched their father walk away.
"Come on," said Claria. "Let's get you settled."
That night, after everyone was finally settled in his or her beds, and Sabé was left alone with the darkness, her tears fell fast and hot into her pillow.
~*~*~*~*~*~ It was late in the afternoon the following day when two sisters stood alone in the viewing room with their mother's body. The door had just been closed to the public, who had come in masses over the course of the day to pay their respects to their beloved ruler. As the servants made final preparations for the funeral, Sabé and Claria waited with Leiandra, desiring to steal one last moment with their mother's beautiful face.
Claria gently stroked her hair. "It's the only part of her that still feels the same," she said quietly. And it was true. The body on the pedestal was cold and stiff, not like their mother in life at all. But her hair was still soft.
Sabé looked silently on as her sister stood there. Eventually, she sensed that Claria needed to cry, and she turned to gaze out the window, giving her sister a small measure of privacy. Only once did she turn to see the tears drop silently from the young Princess's eyes to fall silently on the gown of the Queen. Sabé felt as if she were intruding, somehow. Claria hated for anyone to see her cry, because, Sabé knew, she always felt that it was selfish of her to indulge in tears when others might need her support.
After a moment, the quiet sniffling had ceased.
"Sabé," Claria's voice suddenly spoke, "look at this." Sabé turned curiously, wondering at the note of surprise in her sister's voice, so alien amidst all the silent grimness of the palace that day. "Did no one think to retrieve this?" Claria had asked softly, almost half to herself.
"What is it?" She stepped up to the bier to stand beside her sister.
Claria's elegant finger reached out and gently pulled something from beneath the front of her mother's gown. A chain, in delicate white gold, with a stunning blue stone dangling at the end. The stone was flecked with spots of voilet-colored fire. Sabé gasped.
"They must not have known," she said quietly. Not many people had been aware Leiandra's intentions for this particular piece of jewelry…
"You see this, Sabé? It's my forget-me-not. Your father gave this to me the night he said he loved me. It was a long time ago."
"It's pretty, mama. Can I have it someday?"
"No darling. It is for Richard."
"But why Richard?"
"Because, my dear, he will need to give a forget-me-not when he falls in love someday."
"But I might fall in love too."
"Yes, but then it will be up to your young man to give you a forget-me-not."
"I hope it is as pretty as that one. Do they always look the same?"
"No. Everyone looks different. But every one is special. Now go to sleep, dearest."
A bittersweet smile played along Sabé's lips. That conversation had taken place a long time ago, when she was still very small, and just after Richard's birth. Richard himself had never been told about the necklace. He knew the Naboo traditions, of course, that giving such a gift to a young lady was a sign of serious commitment, practically an engagement gift. But he did not know about this one intended for him. It was to have been a surprise.
With a shaky breath, Claria reached behind her mother's cold neck and unfastened the clasp. "We must keep this for him," she said resolutely, "until the time comes."
It was comforting, in a way, that they had discovered the forget-me-not. Certainly the fact that the keepsake had been nearly overlooked in the frantic funeral preparations was a rather alarming thought, but there was no harm done now. And both girls took pleasure in the thought of giving it to their brother one day. It would be like one last special gift for him on that day. An unexpected touch from his mother.
Not only that, but the thought of Richard falling in love almost made her laugh aloud. He was still such a child.
As dusk fell, the Queen's body was taken to the Royal Temple, on the farthest edges of the palace. They walked silently over the bridge to the temple, the family in a line, followed by Leiandra's closest friends and companions, and respected members of parliament and the Queen's counsel.
The guests took their places along the walls of the temple expectantly. As she waited for the body to arrive, Sabé glanced out the high window to her left, at the brightest of Naboo's moons shining full and beautiful in the summer sky. She took in the sound of the waterfall beneath them, and she idly picked out her mother's favorite constellation in the sky above. It was a beautiful night.
Finally the queen's handmaidens, shrouded in cloaks of dark, shimmering blue, crossed the bridge with Leiandra's body. Many argued that the task should have been performed by men, who were stronger, but Eullie would hear nothing of it. Above all else it was the duty of the handmaidens to serve their queen. They served her in life; they would serve her in death as well.
Sabé knew it was the chief handmaiden that led the small, somber procession, a candle in hand, and the other four carried the coffin, Rabé was among them. Sabé had seen very little of her friend since her return to the palace, except once in passing in the corridor. Rabé had seemed to want to say something, but had also seemed to sense Sabé's desire to be alone and had continued on her way with only a small sympathetic gaze sent Sabé's way. Sabé made a mental note to have a talk with her friend soon.
The body was laid upon the stone bier in the center of the small temple, and the handmaidens stepped back as Eullie passed her candle to the Prince Consort. Armand stepped forward and cleared his throat hoarsely.
"The rulers of old placed their stars in the sky to guide the younger generations," he began quietly. "From Elisnoré to Celdari, from Simonen to Naestral, the great kings and queens of the past watch over us and guide the Naboo still. We commend the spirit of Marné Leiandra Maloine Naberrie to join them there. Dance with the stars, Leiandra my love, dance with the stars."
With a shaking hand, he held the flame of the candle to the sleeve of the Queen's gown. Although Sabé knew in her head that the figure before her was not really Leiandra at all, only something that would soon be decaying matter, a small part of her still wanted to scream out in protest. No! Do not take my mother away from me!
But she was already gone. Sabé's eyes glistened as the flames began to eat away at the Queen's beautiful dress. Only an hour ago, she had been carefully covered in scented incense and flammable oils, which would make the accelerate the burning process.
Sabé hated cremations, personally preferring the traditions of the southern hemisphere, where the people buried their dead beneath the earth. But so it had always been. This was the way things were done in Theed.
The small family of the Queen stood next to one another, keeping close for comfort, and Sabé studied them each in turn. There was a contrast in the expressions of Padmé and their father. Sabé's twin gazed on their mother's burning body almost impassively, but there was a hint of anxiety still showing through her smooth features. Sabé knew that her mind was heavy with the future of Naboo. And where Padmé Amidala's mind rested nearly completely on the future, Armand Maloine's was clearly dwelling completely on the past. His noble, handsome face was wistful and longing as he watched the image of his wife's beauty being consumed.
Richard was the only one still crying, though he bore himself straight and proud despite the silent tears making their way down his cheeks. Claria, like Sabé, was watching the smoke climb its way into the heavens. She caught Sabé's eye and gave her a small, sad smile.
Flames jumped and sparked, sending pieces of ash up to mingle with the stars. Pieces of Leiandra.
Dance with the stars, mama. Sabé thought, and suddenly she felt peaceful. It was such a beautiful night. Dance with the stars.
End Part One ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~