Chapter 2 – Locket

Padmé was rocking back and forth on her bunk. She felt horrible. Her stomach roiled and her skin was clammy. On three separate occasions she had rushed to the fresher for fear that she was about to throw up. She had yet to do so, but this wasn't much of a relief.

A knock on her door caused her to look up. "My lady?" came the voice of her handmaiden, Sabé. "My lady, are you alright?"

"Fine," was her terse reply. Sabé wasn't easily fooled, however. The door slid open, and her concerned handmaiden took a tentative step into the room.

"Captain Typho asked me to tell you that we've arrived in the system," she said.

Padmé nodded. "Thank you, Sabé."

Her doppelganger pursed her lips. "You don't look well, my lady."

"I'm fine," she insisted again.

"You're sweating," Sabé observed.

Padmé wiped at her brow. Sure enough, she was. "I just… it's a bit hot." She got to her feet and took a shaky step. Her knees buckled. "I… I feel…"

"My lady?"

Her legs suddenly gave out and Padmé collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Δ Δ Δ

"I'm fine, really. This is entirely unnecessary."

Padmé was propped up in a hospital bed. She had only lost consciousness for a few minutes, but Captain Typho and Sabé had made the executive decision to have her brought directly to the medical center in Theed rather than to the Royal Palace as had been originally planned. Despite her fussing, Padmé couldn't pretend as if she wasn't relieved. Her meeting with the queen was something she had been dreading.

"Forgive us for being cautious, my lady," Captain Typho said. Her one-eyed head of security was a gruff man, but deep down she knew he genuinely cared for her wellbeing. Little did he know, she could protect herself far better than he could.

"Where's Dormé and the others?" Padmé asked. She scratched at the crook of her elbow where a medical droid had drawn some of her blood an hour ago. The skin was flaky and pallid.

"They went to the palace," Sabé answered. She alone had stayed behind, as Padmé's seneschal and chief handmaiden. "They explained the situation to the queen. I'm sure she'll understand."

"This is so embarrassing," Padmé grumbled. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Typho and Sabé share an amused look.

The door to her room opened and in stepped a female doctor. Her curly brown hair was done up in a tight bun and a stethoscope was draped around the back of her neck. She glanced at Typho and Sabé in the corner of the room by the window.

"Are you my physician?" Padmé asked, eager for an affirmative so she could get clearance to leave.

The doctor shifted her attention to her and nodded. "I am," she said. Taking two long strides, she extended her hand to her. Padmé shook it daintily as she had been taught to do. "My name is Sola Naberrie."

"Padmé Amidala," she greeted in turn.

The corner of the doctor's lips curled in amusement. "Believe me, I know."

Flattered, Padmé offered a bright smile. "Am I free to leave, Doctor Naberrie?"

"Please, call me Sola."

"Very well. There isn't anything wrong with me, is there Sola?" She hooked a thumb toward Sabé and Typho. "These two are worried about nothing, right?"

Sola pulled out a stool from behind the heartrate monitor and took a seat. "There are a few things I would like to discuss before I discharge you."

Padmé quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

The doctor hesitated as her gaze drifted beyond Padmé toward the two observers. "Perhaps it would be best if we were in private."

"Of course," Typho said quickly. "I'll wait in the hall."

"My lady?" Sabé asked.

"You stay, Sabé," Padmé insisted.

"Are you sure?" Sola asked.

"I have a good idea what this is about, doctor," Padmé said. "Yes, Sabé may stay."

"Very well then."

The door closed behind Typho and Sabé took a step toward the bed.

"I was not fully transparent with you, Senator," Sola said.

"Padmé," she corrected with a wink.

Sola faltered. "I, uh… alright. Padmé. Truth is, I am a physician, yes, but my specialty is in gynecology."

"Senator Amidala has no need of a gynecologist," Sabé said.

Sola met the handmaiden's strident gaze. "The blood panel suggests otherwise," she said gravely.

Padmé could sense her handmaiden's surprise. "It's alright," she said, glancing up at the flabbergasted Sabé.

"You knew about this?" Sola asked.

"I did," Padmé confirmed.

"You're pregnant? But why didn't you tell anyone?" Sabé gasped.

"I only just found out," Padmé mumbled. Returning her attention to the doctor, she clasped her hands together on her lap. "You wouldn't happen to know how far along I am, would you?" she asked.

"Not from a blood panel, no. How long has it been since your last period?"

Padmé stopped to consider. "I… don't know," she confessed. "I've been so busy lately."

"Short of that information, I really can't say without an ultrasound."

"Could we do that, then?" Padmé asked eagerly.

"I suppose, but in all likelihood it's far too early to perform one. Any earlier than seven weeks, there won't be much to see. I doubt you're any farther along than that."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Sabé suddenly interjected. "This can't be true."

"Pardon?" Sola asked, eyebrows raised.

The handmaiden's face was a bit red. "She's on the pill! I make sure she takes it every day! Ever since –" She stopped abruptly, but Padmé knew what she was referencing. When she had found out about her and Anakin.

"Perhaps she forgot to take them?" Sola said.

"Are you suggesting I can't do my job?" Sabé asked testily.

"Sabé, relax," Padmé said. "I'm sure there's an easy explanation."

"I can't think of one!"

Padmé scrunched up her forehead and looked down at her stomach. Now that she thought about it, how could she have gotten pregnant? Sabé was relentless in her insistence that Padmé keep to her daily regimen.

"This is beside the point," Padmé said, but internally she was stowing away this question for another time. Something didn't add up and she was going to get to the bottom of it. "Is there anything else you wished to discuss with me, Sola?"

The doctor's eyes darted back and forth between Sabé and Padmé. She too seemed to be bemused as to how this pregnancy was possible. "Yes," she said slowly. "I was discussing with your other doctors, and they seem to think that you experienced a stress-induced syncope."

"What does that mean?"

"To be frank, it means we don't know. Our best guess is that you fainted because of the combined factors of your pregnancy and lack of rest. Have you been experiencing high levels of stress lately?"

"You could say that," Padmé muttered.

"Yes, she has," Sabé said more clearly. "She's been working nonstop for two weeks. That's why we're here on Naboo, in fact. The Chancellor himself suggested that she take a break."

"I see," Sola said. "That was kind of him."

"Yes," Padmé agreed. "Very."

"You're going to have to start working less or find some other way to reduce your stress," the doctor advised. "Now that you are pregnant, you are going to have to consider the health of both yourself and your baby. Stress may seem benign, but it can have a severe impact on a pregnancy if left unchecked."

"I understand," Padmé said.

"Will you hold her to this?" Sola asked Sabé.

"I will," the handmaiden said at once.

Padmé closed her eyes and sighed. Once Sabé was committed to something, she would never let up. The next nine months were going to be a struggle.

"May I ask what your plans are for this visit?"

Padmé opened an eye and gave Sola a look. "Why?" she asked.

The doctor looked a bit sheepish. "Forgive me if this is out of line, but I would be remiss not to offer you a place to stay."

"A place to stay?" Padmé echoed.

"It is my understanding that you have no residence here on Naboo."

"And you know this how?"

"It's a silly thing, really. I was taking a look at your file and it has no listed address."

Padmé tensed. "My file?"

Sola produced a datapad from the inside pocket of her white coat. Swiping upward, she activated the device and called up a window.

"It's quite sparse," she frowned. "Perhaps we should take some time to fill it out."

Padmé swallowed hard and held out a trembling hand. "May I see?"

Sola looked up from the datapad. "If you wish."

Padmé took the device out of her hands. She set it down on her lap and scrolled down.

"Your parents nor any other relatives are listed," Sola said.

"That's correct," Padmé said.

She could feel the doctor's concern. She had a distinctly maternal attitude about her, not unlike Sabé in its entitlement.

"Are you saying…?"

"I have no parents, doctor," Padmé said flatly. She handed the datapad off to her. "None that I know about, anyway."

Sola's eyes shined with sympathy. "Forgive me, I had no idea."

"It's alright," Padmé said.

There was an awkward moment as Padmé stared determinedly at her knees which poked out from underneath the blanket.

"Well, my offer still stands," Sola said. "I live in the city, but my parents own an estate out in the countryside. I'm sure they would be more than happy to host you."

"That's very kind of you," Padmé said politely.

"I understand if you have reservations. This is highly irregular."

Padmé was about to reject the offer out of habit, but she stopped herself to reconsider. It was appealing how earnestly this woman wanted to help her. She could tell that she idolized her for her service as both queen and senator. The adulation may be unwarranted, but it was much appreciated nonetheless.

"It would be nice to get out of the city," Padmé commented. "You're sure your parents wouldn't mind?"

"They would be honored," Sola insisted.

Padmé smiled weakly. "Then I think I'll take you up on that offer. Where is this estate exactly?"

"About forty minutes by speeder. Northwest of the city, I believe. It's in the Lake Country."

"Sounds lovely."

Sola returned her smile. "It is, truly. They call it Varykino."

Padmé felt her stomach drop. "What?"

"Varykino," Sola repeated. "Is something the matter?"

"No, of course not," Padmé stammered hastily.

Sola stood up off the stool. "Let me see about getting you discharged."

Padmé's mouth felt dry as she watched the doctor walk away. She stepped out into the hallway, and Captain Typho slipped back into the room.

"My lady?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

She nodded dazedly. "Yes, of course," she managed. "I'm fine."

Surely this couldn't be a coincidence. Palpatine had been adamant that she not return to this place. Could it be that the Force was calling her there?

There was only one way to find out.

Δ Δ Δ

"My lady, are you sure about this?"

Padmé shot her head of security an exasperated look. "What is there to be worried about? You performed a background check on our hosts, didn't you?"

Typho shrugged while keeping his attention on the road ahead of them. "I don't like this."

"You don't like anything," Padmé quipped.

In the backseat, she could sense Sabé shared the captain's apprehension. She was not the type to voice her disagreements with Padmé, but she could make it quite clear when she took issue with her decisions through other, nonverbal means.

But Padmé didn't care. Something told her that this was the right decision. The Force was calling her back to Varykino. Perhaps the thrill of blatantly disregarding her master's wishes was also a factor in her decision. After all, she so rarely got to deviate from his carefully structured instruction.

"Seems like we're here," Typho growled.

They had been following Sola's speeder out of the center of Theed and into the countryside. The doctor had asked her to stay behind at the hospital for an hour after she had been discharged. After her shift ended, she had contacted her parents and told them to follow her. Dormé and the other handmaidens had stayed behind in the city as Padmé didn't wanted to overwhelm her hosts with guests. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to shake her two most loyal subordinates.

"If anything seems amiss, I reserve the right to get you out of there," Typho said.

"Thank you, Captain, but there won't be any need for that," Padmé said with forced calm. "There's nothing malicious about these people."

"You don't know that," Sabé piped up.

Padmé rolled her eyes and allowed the conversation to die there. In the distance, she could see dozens of pinpricks of warm light from Varykino which dappled against the lapping waves of the lake. She couldn't make out much of the villa because of how dark it was, but she could recognize the sketchy outline of its vaulted domes and graceful towers. Closing her eyes, she felt her heart swell with emotion as memories flooded her mind.

It had been a task she had long dreaded. Ever since she was fourteen years old, she had known what her master intended for her. It made her feel nervous, nauseous, and vulnerable. She was but a glittery pawn, designed to attract and seduce young Anakin into a trap. Not once had she imagined that she could fall for him, but that was exactly what happened. He had made her feel like her own person for the first time in her life. She was no longer a tool, but a beautiful, independent woman whom Anakin adored and admired above all else. There was nothing superficial about his attraction for her. He loved her for who she was.

Or who he thought she was.

"My lady?"

The speeder had stopped and Captain Typho was tapping on her window. Shaking herself from her reverie, she gave him a nod. Typho opened the door and offered her his hand.

"How was the drive? Not too windy?"

Padmé released Typho's hand and turned to see Sola walking toward them. Their two speeders were parked several meters apart in a gravel driveway. Beyond her, Padmé noticed a staircase leading up to a patio with tall columns and an elegant palisade made of mottled sandstone.

"It was manageable," Typho said starkly.

Sola gave Padmé a concerned look. "You're okay? Not queasy or lightheaded?"

"I'm fine," Padmé insisted. She knew she ought to be irked by the constant inquiries about her wellbeing, but she couldn't muster it. On the contrary, it was almost endearing to have Sola care so intently for her. Again, she noted the maternal element in her attitude. Or at least, that's how Padmé chose to identify it. She didn't know the first thing about mothers or how they acted.

"Alright then. If you would follow me. My parents are very eager to greet you."

Typho shared a look with Sabé, but Padmé ignored them as she stepped forward to walk side by side with the doctor. She glanced at her, a question falling out of her lips before she even planned on asking it.

"Do you have children?"

Sola met her gaze. She didn't respond right away, the gravel crunching under their feet as they approached the stairs.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious, I suppose. I… I don't know what I'm doing."

She winced at this confession. It was far more true than Sola could ever know.

"It's alright. Motherhood can be a daunting prospect."

"So you do have children?"

"Two daughters."

"How lovely."

Sola smiled wryly. "I suppose."

"Do you have any advice for me?" Padmé asked.

They reached the top of the stairs and Sola glanced back at Typho and Sabé. "I would be more than happy to speak with you, but perhaps it would be preferable to do so in private?"

Padmé nodded. "You're right."

Sola's eyes sparkled. Was it with mischief? Or perhaps even affection?

"Come along," she said, speaking to the three of them. "It's getting cold out here."

Padmé let out a breath, and the misty cloud of condensed air came as a surprise. She hadn't noticed the cold until now. The jittery excitement jumping within her had been more than enough to fend off the chill. This was actually happening! She was back at Varykino despite having promised her master she would never return!

They walked through a doorway and entered a brightly lit vestibule. A crystal chandelier descended from the domed ceiling. Padmé craned her head and smiled, the flickering flames of the wax candles captivating her attention and fascination.

The sound of approaching footsteps compelled her to look away. A pair of shadows proceeded the arrival of a middle-aged couple. If Padmé had to guess, she would say they were in their late fifties or early sixties. The woman was a bit shorter than herself; she had a sharp nose, thin lips, and long dark hair. Despite her severe appearance, there was a glimmer of amiability in her hazel brown eyes which shined even louder through the Force. The man by her side was short as well. He had a tired face with deep creases on his forehead and cheeks. The subtlest hint of a gut pressed against his tan tunic, the sign of a man who was only just beginning to show his age.

"Mom, Dad, these are our guests," Sola said and Padmé adopted a bright smile which surprisingly did not feel contrived.

Sola's parents looked at her with barely-suppressed awe. "Senator Amidala, it is an honor," the woman said with a bow. "I am Jobal, and this is my husband, Ruwee."

"We are humbled to be your hosts," Ruwee added, his chin elevated and his voice rich.

Padmé's smile faltered at the formality. "Thank you for your hospitality," she said. Considering the Naberries' earnest expressions for a moment, she turned to introduce her companions. "This here is my head of security, Captain Typho, and this is my chief handmaiden, Sabé."

They exchanged greetings and Padmé began wringing her wrists awkwardly. "Your home is beautiful," she said.

"Oh, we don't live here," Jobal said. "It belongs to my family. We rent it out for events or distinguished guests most of the year. We spend a few weeks here each the summer, though."

"I see," Padmé said. That explained how Palpatine had managed to provide her with this villa three years ago.

"Come in, why don't you?" Ruwee suggested. "We were just preparing dinner."

"By yourselves?"

"Why of course," Jobal said and she beckoned for Padmé to follow her. She spared a glance for Sola before doing so. "Varykino is far too grand for us, you see. Ruwee and I don't require much."

"So you live in Theed?"

"Just outside of it, yes."

They walked down a hallway with high arches made of polished granite. Padmé didn't recognize this section of the villa. She evidently hadn't got the opportunity to explore it in its entirety when she had been here last.

"Ruwee, how about you show the captain where he can bring Senator Amidala's bags."

Jobal turned to her husband in a circular room which Padmé recognized as the main atrium. To her left, she saw the marble staircase leading to the upper level of the villa. Directly ahead was a doorway which led out to the very terrace where she and Anakin had been married three years prior.

"Very well," Ruwee said. "You don't need any help with those, do you, Captain?"

She glanced at Typho and saw a vein protruding from his forehead, the two densely packed suitcases weighing heavily in his trembling arms. "No need," he said through gritted teeth. Padmé rolled her eyes at the captain's obstinance.

"The dining room is just this way," Sola said, gesturing to her right. Padmé of course already knew this, but she nodded nonetheless.

"Lead the way," she said.

A few moments later they were arriving in a gorgeous room with a high, vaulted ceiling. Pointed arches with rippling curtains of silken fabric framed the rotunda. In the day time, Padmé recalled this room being flooded with a lambent amber light, but now a gilded menorah on the dining table with seven lit candles served as the sole light source.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll finish preparing dinner."

Jobal walked away, leaving the three of them alone in the opulent room. Padmé glanced at her handmaiden and attempted to replicate her look of awe. She didn't want to reveal that she had been here before. That would raise too many questions which she didn't want to answer.

"Take a seat, why don't you?" Sola suggested. Padmé obliged, striding into the room and instinctively taking the seat at the head of the table. Sabé followed her obediently and stood at attention by her right shoulder.

"Sabé, you sit as well," Padmé insisted.

"But my lady –"

"Don't make me order you."

Sabé flushed red, but nevertheless acquiesced to Padmé's insistence. She pulled out a chair and sat down to her right while Sola did the same to her left.

"How long do you intend to stay on Naboo?" Sola asked.

"A week, perhaps," Padmé answered, her finger circling the brim of the glass in front of her. To be frank, she hadn't given it much thought. Palpatine had told her to take as much time as she needed to recover, whatever that meant.

"Do you have anything planned?"

Padmé gave her host a rueful look. "Not really," she confessed. "I was supposed to meet with the queen today, but that obviously didn't happen."

"We can always reschedule, my lady," Sabé said.

"I suppose," Padmé said meekly.

Sola smiled, clearly detecting her reluctance. "In that case, you might consider spending your week here in the Lake Country. I would be more than happy to show you some of the sights."

"Would you really? What about your work? And your children?"

"I can take some time off," Sola said breezily. "And my family is coming up tomorrow morning for the weekend. They're very excited to meet you. My youngest especially."

"Really? Is she interested in politics?"

Sola shrugged. "She's only six."

Padmé's expression darkened and she looked away. Sola's daughter may have the liberty of not having to care about politics at such a young age, but Padmé had never had such free will. She had been trained to be queen ever since she was four years old. For her, there had never been any choice in the matter.

The return of Jobal gave Padmé an excuse to stow away these bitter memories of her childhood. "Sola, give me a hand, would you?" she requested, setting a bowl down on the table.

"Sure, Mom."

A few minutes later Ruwee and Typho arrived and the rest of the food had been set on the table. The concoction of aromatic scents had Padmé's stomach growling. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until now.

"Wine, anyone?"

Padmé was about to accept when Sola suddenly intervened. "Padmé can't drink," she told her mother.

Jobal glanced at her and arched a brow. "I see," she said without question. She clearly understood the meaning of this. "Sabé? What about you?"

"If the senator does not drink, neither will I," the handmaiden said stiffly.

Padmé snorted. "You must forgive my associate for her brusqueness," she said to Jobal. Unfazed, Sabé set her jaw and stared down at her empty plate.

"It's no matter," their host said. She set the bottle of wine down next to the menorah and took a seat at the opposite head of the table. As she did this, a glint of metal caught Padmé's eye.

"That's beautiful," she said with a nod to the necklace around Jobal's neck.

Jobal glanced down and placed her hand over the pendant. "Thank you," she said, her voice a bit thick. "It's a locket." She glanced at her husband and smiled wanly. "It has a lock of our youngest daughter's hair."

Padmé tensed. "Oh, I'm sorry –"

"She's not dead," Jobal assured her quickly. "At least, we don't think so."

Padmé shared a confused look with Sabé. "Where is she?" she asked.

Ruwee answered this time. "Our other daughter is a Jedi," he said proudly.

That caught Padmé's attention. "A Jedi?" she said. That couldn't be. She would have known if there was a Jedi from Naboo.

Jobal wiped at her eye. "We didn't want to give her up, but the Order was insistent. A Jedi Master came to take her from us on her second birthday."

Padmé took a tentative sip of her water, not wanting to show how curious she was about this information. "This Jedi," she said slowly. "Did he have a name?"

"Why yes," Ruwee said. "We'd never forget it. He called himself Sifo-Dyas."

Padmé's breath caught in the back of her throat. "Sifo-Dyas?" she echoed.

"He was very mysterious, but I suppose that's how the Jedi are," Ruwee said with a flourish of his fork.

There was a silence as Padmé absorbed this information. The clinking of silverware echoed cacophonously in her mind as she stared sightlessly at the menorah in front of her. The flames flickered about chaotically. They seemed to be mocking her, mirthful in their crazed dance.

"Padmé? Are you alright?"

Sola had placed her hand atop hers. Padmé looked down sharply, the gentle touch rousing her back to her senses.

"Yes, of course," she managed. "I'm actually feeling a bit nauseous. Is there a fresher I could use?"

Sola's forehead creased with concern. "On your right down the hall," she said, pointing toward the west exit.

Padmé attempted a smile, but feared that it only came across as a grimace. She stood up from her seat and all but fled out of the dining room.