The Price of Freedom
Disclaimer: I do not have any affliation with the Star Wars saga or George Lucas.
Spoilers: None
The soft gray strands of hair gently brushed at her face, as she moved tiredly about the kitchen that in her forty-second year of being, her husband in his careful deductions and knowledge had updated for her. It was nothing perfect, but in her own mind it was probably better than many of the kitchens of the famed cooks of Calikornilla.
Her husband had tenderly slipped his hands about her light brown eyes, whispering to her, not to struggle against the blindness that with his hands he provided to her. The walk had been long, and painful, producing blisters to her feet. She had supposed it was necessary after all, to keep the truth from her when he removed his hands to provide a more shocked added smile and squeal of delight. The scent of the blue and green roses herald to her, as he took her about talking about the fine details that had attracted him to her so many years before and had made him proud to father their two daughters with her and not any other woman.
When he withdrawn his silky hands from her face, she had puzzled for a moment, before her eyes opened to the beauty of the kitchen that had been once a thing of mere disposition and not a place that she even wanted to spend many of her evenings in trying to prepare some of the foods that her grandmother had taught her in her youth. Her daughters and granddaughters had merrily kissed at her cheeks, as they explained the tale and the terrors that their father and grandfather had to go through to have the kitchen re-furnished without any suspicion on her behalf.
She had spent hours in the kitchen, it was a place of refuge unlike the garden that she could normally find her husband when he required some shelter from the outside world. Ruwee had commanded its construction, in the first year of their marriage, he was a gardener and would have perhaps went onto be something along those lines had it not been for the cruel terms that his father placed on such an occupation. It was for women, Ruwee Naberrie's father had spat before moving onto another topic that pleased him more to speak about, especially the the topic of grandchildren.
He had died, before the birth of Padme, but Sola had been his epic prodigy and favourite grandchild produced by any of the three children that he had produced with his late wife Attica. He had taught her the fine details that he learned from his own father. She had often found grandfather and granddaughter together lost in the qualms of a heroic holonovel, about a man or woman who in their own personal quest to recover great treasure found something that was immeasurable to even the most luxurious treasure. She had often felt jealous of it, that her father-in-law had been able to open a part of her eldest daughter that she would never be able to get at no matter how hard she attempted to do so. Ruwee had merely nodded and told her that in time, that Sola would be more opened to her.
She had sighed, staring down at the golden treasures that in their own delight caused some heavy sorrow to her own heart. Her youngest daughter, her baby was to be wed. It was tradition for the mother of the bride to cater the events of not only the wedding reception but of the three day ball that was held to show off the couple a few days before they were to be married under the law of the Nubian court system. Ropa Ekert had insisted that she did not have to do such a thing, he had fine cooks who could prepare treats for the numerous guests that he had invited to both events. She had refused him, stating that it was one of the traditions of marriage that a mother could not let fall into the hands of another, no matter any kind offer that was provided.
"Padme." She had heard the gentle voice of her daughter pronounce in a squeal that reminded her of the days when her two daughters had plotted their own weddings in great detail down to the socks that they were and were not going to wear at the ceremonies. She had briskly slipped the oven made goods away, brushing the table of the flour that produced a thin dust. She had more to get done, but that could be done later, she still had at least three good days to finish the baking that tradition commanded she complete.
"Mom." The soft voice, peaked as she felt two warm arms surround her waste as she washed her hands of the food products. She had grinned slightly before turning to examine the child that in her own age, had only a week before turned thirty in the dusk of all the other senatorial events that she had heard Ruwee speak of to his friends, when he had thought she was away or not paying attention to him. A calm tranquility passed over her daughter's fine features, something that in its own presence was rare for the youngest Naberrie daughter to even have in a minimal quantity.
"Grannma." The duo voices raced, tugging at the soft hem of her green dress that fell lightly to the pearl washed floors. She had to admit that in their own adoption she had not liked either of them, taking away many of the suitors that her daughter had once held in her palm. Her husband had come quickly to love the pair that now squatted on the floor looking for something, as the handsome Jedi that had been introduced to her once as Anakin Skywalker appeared at the door of the kitchen smiling at the scene for a reason that evaded her mind.
It had taken months before she had come to love them, as though they were apart of her own flesh and blood. Luke and Leia, names that belonged to alien planets and not of Naboo. Padme had never explained why she had rested those names on the children that she had adopted from a far extended family member, except that she had both names in a tale when she was a queen and than a senator, a story that would not leave her heart no matter how hard she tried to shake it.
They were sweet little things, Jobal smiled as the twins moved about the kitchen staring wide-eyed into the oven that harvested another golden treat. The hungry expressions that they held on their three year old faces, before they looked kindly at one another before returning to her and pleading for a quick snack before dinner was to begin in their own childlike tongues.
"No mum, Luke and Leia can wait for dinner. They know better anyway. They know that they are not allowed treats until after they eat dinner." Padme had said, staring not at her or the twins but at the man that rested his weight in the door, as if trying to give him a message and not anyone else in the room. He had shrugged, before scooping both children away into his arms, claiming that Ruwee had probably wished to see them before dinner was to be set and prepared for both the adult and children tables.
She had gazed lightly on her daughter, the fresh smile that had formed on her face as the man retreated from the room with the laughing set of twins folded under each of his strong arms. She had heard the rumor of friendship between the two, he had often accompanied her places under that title, senate dinners and balls. She doubted it went any further than friendship, it was not proper a senator to even think of going after a man who had pledge everything including his heart to the order of the Jedi.
"I never knew that Anakin was good with children." She had muttered, "Do you think that Ropa will be that good with Luke and Leia?" Padme had turned and faced her mother, the thought and term of the four names even brought up together had caused her the need to want to bend down and scream out that Ropa Ekert was a cold hearted murderer and not a man that even the worst of her enemies required to be near even for a millisecond.
"I doubt it, he wants to turn the children over to anyone who will take them." Padme had solemnly stated, her deep brown eyes lost out the window where her husband and father stood, watching the twins as they played side by side with their oblivious cousins, games that were otherwise embarassing for any child even entering their teens to be seen playing with, except in the presence of small children. Jobal had held her hand gently to her red painted lips, shocked at the aquistion of the proclaimation.
"Perhaps he will change his mind, Padme. After he has sired his own child with you. He might come to love Luke and Leia as his own." Jobal stated, she had waited so long to hear the words that Padme Naberrie, the daughter of Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie was to be wed in a ceremony that was the likes that no one on the planet of Naboo had ever seen before in the entirity of their lives. Padme had muttered on about her disgust for the man, though Jobal was certain that in his qualities he was nothing like what her daughter imagined. He seemed like a nice person when ever he in his own travels stopped by the home inquiring about his fiancee. It just seemed so wrong that her daughter would end up alone and without someone to love her and sire any children with her, to be an old spinister that would only be remembered for her political career and not for her warmth or love.
"I am going to go prepare the guest bedrooms for Masters Skywalker and Kenobi. I do wish you could see this for what it was mom. I do not love Ropa Ekert, what is the point of marrying a man that I know I will never love?" Padme had questioned, as she prepared to leave the kitchen for the two tiny rooms that rested in two different areas of the country home.
"Maybe you will love him, one day. He seems like a nice man, sweetheart. I just don't want you to end up alone and regretful that you never married." Jobal said lightly, brushing her hand against her daughter's cheek. Padme had stirred, words lost in her throat before she disappeared from the room without a sound to acknowledge anything that came from her mother's mouth.
Author's Note: I realized that I had to take this back to Naboo, as their is an excellent reason for this but it will be unwound in later chapters, well the last one anways. :) Has anyone seen the movie Robots, yet? Is it good because I was thinking about going to see it.