TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains reference to abortion. Read at your own discretion.
Chapter 4 – Two Names, Two Faces
Padmé was bored. Lying on her stomach on the ground, she planted her elbows on the felt carpet and cradled her face in her hands. The holonet flickered above her and she watched it with listless eyes.
"Senator Sheev Palpatine of Naboo in cooperation with senators from eleven other Mid Rim planets introduced legislation this morning calling for greater enforcement of Republic trade laws outside of the Core."
She yawned. Politics could be so dull, but Palpatine wanted her to keep up to date with current events. It was important for her to stay informed, so he said. She perked up a bit when his face popped up and he began to speak.
"This is a common sense measure which codifies Republic authority throughout the whole galaxy, not just in the Core."
The reporter returned, and Padmé's interest wilted. She rested her cheek against the carpet and closed her eyes.
"While the measure is expected to pass the Senate, some have argued against it. Senators Gorrah Singh of Kuat and Hu'ral Arr'al'an of Anaxes have denounced Senator Palpatine's legislation as being self-serving toward the affluent worlds of the Mid Rim, of which Naboo is included, while doing little to benefit those worlds with less prosperous economies.
The door to the apartment opened with a mechanical ding. Gasping to herself, Padmé sprung to her feet and ran out of the living room toward the foyer.
"Papa!"
Palpatine looked up. He met her expectant expression with a weary smile.
"You took forever," she complained.
"I had a lot of work to do."
She knew better than to pester him any further. Dancing on the balls of her feet, she waited for him to take off his heavy robe and hang it up on the hook.
"I saw you on the holonet," Padmé said. She hoped he would be proud of her for watching the news.
"You did? What were they saying?"
Palpatine walked past her toward the living room. Padmé followed him with a bounce to her step.
"Those two senators were being mean."
Palpatine chuckled. "Who? Singh and that sycophant of his?"
Padmé bobbed her head despite not knowing what that word meant.
"Fools, the both of them." Palpatine sat down on the couch with a groan. Amusement flitted across his face when she canted her head. "What is it?"
"Why don't I have two names?"
Palpatine frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You have two names. Those two senators have two names. The man on the holonet has two names. But I'm just Padmé. Why don't I have another name?"
Palpatine took a long time before answering. She had experienced this delay before. His eyes were narrowed, darting back and forth as he formulated his response.
"Why should it matter?" he asked.
Padmé blinked once, confused by the question. "I don't know… I'm just curious, I guess."
"Curious?" Palpatine echoed, eyebrow arched.
"How did you get your name?"
Palpatine straightened out his back, his expression keen and his jaw set. "I suppose my parents gave it to me."
"What about me? Where did I get my name?"
"I gave it to you."
Padmé considered this. "You did?" He nodded. "Oh."
"Don't worry, my dear. In time you will have a full name. A royal name."
"I guess," she said without enthusiasm. Looking down at her feet, she chewed on her tongue. "Why can't I have your name?"
"What?"
She met his gaze. "Palpatine," she explained. "Why can't that be mine too? Padmé Palpatine." She smiled at the way it sounded. The alliteration was silly.
Palpatine shook his head emphatically. "That cannot be your name."
"It can't?"
"No." Before she got a chance to ask why, Palpatine stood up off the couch. He ruffled her hair as he walked past toward the kitchen. "Let's fix you something to eat," she heard him say.
Padmé didn't follow him. She stared at the couch, eyes distant and heart heavy.
Δ Δ Δ
For a full hour, Padmé told her newfound sister everything and anything. The words came flowing out of her without filter. Once she started speaking, there was nothing she could do to stop. She scarcely stopped to breathe – an occasional question from Sola for clarification the sole interruption of this verbal avalanche.
She kept one thing secret, of course. The one thing that nobody could ever know: Palpatine. It was too much of a risk for Sola to know his identity. Padmé had no doubt he would kill her if he found out she knew.
"If you don't tell me who he is, how can I help you get away from him?" Sola asked when Padmé reiterated the reason for her restraint.
"Sola, you don't understand! This man… you don't want anything to do with him."
"And I don't want you to have anything to do with him, either!"
Padmé got to her feet and paced about. She was still only wearing the towel, but this sartorial misfortune was the last thing on her mind at the moment.
"Padmé, he's a monster! He stole you from us!"
"You think I'm not angry about that?" Padmé hissed. She swiped her hand emphatically. "I'm furious, Sola! He lied to me my whole life!"
"So betray him! Reveal his identity to the galaxy! To the Jedi!"
"No," Padmé said at once.
"Why not?"
"Never the Jedi."
Sola stood up. "I don't understand."
"The Jedi are my enemy," Padmé snarled. She paused to point a finger at Sola. "They will kill me the second they learn who I am. They'll have Anakin expelled from the Order!"
"Not if you cooperate!"
"There's no cooperating with them. The Jedi are rotten to the core. They're no better than Sidious."
Sola placed her hands on her hips and looked away. She clearly didn't understand. How could she?
"You have to trust me, Sola. I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?"
"Of course I do!"
"Padmé, you just tried to drown yourself in a lake! I can't even trust you enough to leave you alone for five minute!"
Padmé gnashed her teeth, unable to come up with a retort.
"If you won't go to the Jedi, why not go to the Senate? Tell them everything! Tell them –" Sola stopped when Padmé snorted. "What?" she asked.
"He is the Senate."
Sola blinked twice. "What does that mean?"
"You're not listening to me, Sola. This man is everywhere. He controls everything and everyone. The galaxy is his marionette."
"That's not possible."
Padmé shook her head. "You don't understand."
Sola took a step forward and rested her hands on Padmé's shoulders. "Then help me," she pleaded.
Closing her eyes, Padmé released a shaky breath. "He's a shadow," she whispered. "He follows everyone's moves. He knows everyone's secrets. Everyone's weaknesses. Nothing happens without him knowing about it. Everything proceeds to his precise design." Her eyes flew open, a spark of realization igniting. "Oh no."
"Padmé?"
A shiver ran down her spine and she looked down at herself. "The baby," she said.
"What about it?"
"This was him. He's responsible."
"Padmé –"
"It has to be! He must have swapped out my pills, or… or…" Padmé trailed off, shuddering at the thought. She knew what Palpatine was capable of. The power to manipulate the midichlorians to create life. He had done it to create Anakin, could he have… would he have…
"You think he gave you a placebo?"
Padmé shook herself back to her senses. "That has to be it," she said. The alternative was too horrible to consider. "He wants Anakin more than anything. He's going to use this to manipulate him. I don't know how, but he's going to do it."
Sola tried to say something, but Padmé didn't give her a chance. She stepped away, her sister's hands slipping off her shoulders.
"I won't let him," she said to herself, her voice shrill. "My baby won't be a pawn. I won't… I can't…"
"Padmé?"
She turned around, lower lip trembling. "Y-you could do it. Would you? Sola, would you?"
Sola's eyes were wide with understanding. She shook her head, palms raised. "Padmé, no. You're not thinking clearly."
"Yes I am. I'm thinking more clearly than I ever have before."
"If you do this, you'd only be letting him manipulate you even more. You don't want to do this! This baby means everything to you!"
Her vision was blurred as increasingly violent tremors wracked her body. "I can't let him," she whimpered.
"And you won't," Sola said calmly. "But there has to be another way. There always is another way."
"There is no other way! There's only his way! That's all there ever is!"
When Padmé's composure dissolved, Sola was quick to bridge the gap between them. With two long strides, she wrapped her arms around Padmé's smaller frame and pulled her into an embrace. Warm fingers carded her hair while she wept against Sola's collarbone, fingernails grazing her scalp in a pleasant, ticklish manner. The soft soprano of her sister's voice in her ear crooned gentle words of encouragement, of love. In her vulnerability, she felt secure. In her isolation, she was supported.
Such was the irony of fate. She had never been so broken, and despite that, she had never felt so whole.
Δ Δ Δ
Padmé wouldn't let Sola leave that night. She put up a halfhearted fight, but she withered to Padmé's indomitable resolve.
"I don't want to be alone tonight. Sola, please."
And so the two sisters tucked into the aptly-named queen-sized bed. They were essentially strangers to each other, but neither exhibited much discomfort. Even so, Padmé was careful to keep her distance – at least at first. As the night wore on, Padmé found herself drifting closer to Sola's warmth. Their frigid feet wedged together and Padmé hugged onto her sister's arm like it was a buoy.
Sola had drifted off long ago, but Padmé couldn't fall asleep. Curled into a fetal position, she contemplated her sister's twitching fingers with glassy eyes. She marveled at their bond, fledgling yet strong. In a way, she felt closer to Sola than she did with Anakin. With him, she was always lying in some fashion – deceiving him, manipulating him, corrupting him. That was not the case with Sola. She had exposed herself fully and completely to her.
It felt good. Cleansing, in a way.
But now she had to make sure nothing bad happened to her. Palpatine couldn't find out. But how could she expect to hide this from him? He could see right through her, he always could. Ever since she was a little girl, he knew instantly when she was lying. He could smell it.
So what could she do? Come clean? Apologize for defying his will and plead that he not hurt her family? Of course not! That was too great a risk to take. She would have to do everything in her power to keep this a secret from him. But that wasn't a permanent solution. Eventually, she would have to take a proactive measure.
Eventually, she would have to kill him.
It was a tale as old as time: the apprentice turning on her master. But Padmé had never conceived of committing such a betrayal. How could she? The man had raised her! Besides, it wasn't as if he even considered her his apprentice. She was not his successor but his protégé. The true heir was Anakin – or to be more precise, Vader.
But there was another.
The idea came to her just like that. Her eyes flew open and her grip on Sola's arm tightened, eliciting a soft grunt. She glanced up, afraid that she had woken her, but luckily she had not. Taking great care to disentangle herself from Sola without disturbing her, Padmé slipped out of the bed – her body abuzz with nervous energy. She paced back and forth, hands running through her hair as she pondered and plotted.
Minutes stretched on into hours. Silver moonlight cascaded through the tall picture windows, the interplay of this ethereal glow with the long shadows creating a mysterious ambience. She dwelled in this dappled domain, lingering in the darkness and loping through the light.
At some point she must have returned to bed, because she found herself being rudely awakened by an insistent voice.
"My lady? My lady, it's time to get up. It's almost noon."
Padmé squinted mightily as she rolled over. Looming over her bed was Sabé, the handmaiden's face pinched and stern. Perpetually punctilious, Sabé must have been horrified that Padmé had slept in so late.
"Okay, Sabé. I'm up."
She sat up and pressed her back against the headrest. She glanced over to her left. Sola's indentation in the bed had been smoothed over and the blanket was unrumpled. It was as if she had never been there.
"My lady?"
"Yes, alright. I'm getting up."
While Padmé brushed her teeth in the fresher, Sabé picked out something for her to wear. They performed their synchronized dance without words, devilishly expeditious in technique and graceful in execution. The daunting task of preparing her hair, makeup, and outfit took the deft handmaiden no more than fifteen minutes. Sabé had just finished the last braid when they heard a knock at the door.
"Senator Amidala? Are you in there?"
She and Sabé glanced at each other before the latter went to go answer. Seated in a stool, Padmé craned her head back to see Sabé open the door to reveal Jobal.
"The senator is getting ready," Sabé said curtly.
Padmé stood up and approached the door. "We just finished," she said.
Jobal's eyes darted up to see her. "We were beginning to worry."
Padmé offered a sheepish smile. "You must forgive me for sleeping in."
The woman's even expression brightened into one of amused affection. Padmé felt her heart flutter at the sight. Her mother was smiling at her!
"Sola's family just arrived. The girls were asking if they could see you."
"Oh," Padmé said.
She swallowed hard and looked down at her feet. Sola had promised not to tell anyone what she had learned last night, but not after much tribulation from Padmé. It wasn't as if she wanted to keep this a secret – more than anything she wanted to reveal herself to her parents, to tell them who she really was! – but she couldn't. It was too dangerous. And now she would have to hide this from Sola's daughters as well – her nieces! She had nieces! This whole situation was utterly bizarre.
"If you don't want to, I can tell them –"
"No!" Padmé said perhaps too loudly. "I would love to meet them."
Jobal gave her another smile, and Padmé felt her cheeks grow warm. "Wonderful. Would you like to accompany me?"
Padmé bobbed her head with girlish enthusiasm. She stepped past Sabé and walked side by side with Jobal down the hall. Fingers tapping frantically against her thigh, Padmé struggled to keep her anxiety in check as they walked down the stairs and approached the atrium.
There she found Sola speaking with a stilted Captain Typho. Standing next to her was a tall man with wavy brown hair and broad shoulders. His arms were crossed and he had a scowl on his face, presumably irritated by the captain's prickly attitude. Frolicking in the center of the round room were two young girls. Hearing their footsteps, the girls stopped what they were doing and looked up. Their eyes widened when they saw her.
"Oh, Padmé! You're here."
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Padmé looked away from the awe-struck girls to see Sola walking toward her. She tensed involuntarily, not sure how to act now that they were in public.
"This is my husband, Darred," Sola said, gesturing to the man behind her.
Darred bowed his head. "An honor to meet you, Senator."
"And these are my daughters," Sola continued. "Ryoo and Pooja."
The taller girl on the left blinked a few times whereas the shorter one merely gazed with her mouth ajar. Padmé smiled brightly at them, amused by their wonderment.
"Girls, what do you say?"
Evidently nothing. They continued to stare and Sola gave them a disappointed look. She nudged the youngest. "Pooja? Do you have anything to say?"
The girl spoke in a squeaky voice. "Your dress is pretty."
Padmé laughed while Sola sighed. She flicked her daughter's ponytail and the girl looked up in confusion.
"They're very excited to meet you," Darred said, clearly not sharing his wife's exasperation.
"And I'm very excited to meet them," Padmé said with another smile for the girls.
"I was going to take the girls down to the lake," Jobal said. "You would be more than welcome to accompany us."
Padmé stiffened and she shot a look toward Sola. "I, uh… I don't think that's a good idea," Sola said.
Jobal frowned. "Why not?"
"How about the valley? The girls would like that, wouldn't you?" Pooja and Ryoo both made sour faces which Sola chose to ignore. "Besides, Padmé isn't dressed for the beach, wouldn't you agree?" she said to her mother.
Jobal considered this point as she looked Padmé over. Sola made a valid point. The flowing summer dress Sabé had chosen for her was elegant, yes, but it certainly wasn't proper attire for the beach.
"I guess not," Jobal conceded. "Very well. The valley it is."
Padmé released a subtle sigh of relief. Making sure no one was looking, Padmé mouthed her thanks to Sola who replied with a wink.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll go prepare a basket."
Jobal whisked away down one of the hallways and Padmé watched her go with intent fascination. There was a brief moment of silence which was interrupted by Captain Typho.
"My lady, Dormé contacted me this morning," he said, hands held stiffly behind his back.
Padmé tried not to let on how uninterested she was by this information. "Oh?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"The queen would be willing to meet with you this afternoon."
Padmé sighed. "I see."
"Should I tell her to expect us?"
She took a moment to consider. Meeting Sola's eyes, Padmé felt her lips uncoil into a smile. "I don't think so, Captain."
"My lady?"
"I'm going for a picnic."
Δ Δ Δ
Padmé's cheeks were sore.
She must have smiled more that afternoon than she had in the past few years combined. Sola's daughters overcame their nerves and chattered with her the entire trip to the valley. They talked about anything and everything, and Padmé was more than happy to indulge them. Pooja insisted on holding her hand while Ryoo skipped ahead of them, blazing the trail to the picnic spot.
Behind her, she felt the Naberries' eyes on her. Sola and Darred talked in hushed tones, ever amused and impressed by how quickly their daughters had taken to her. A little ways behind walked Sabé and Typho. They didn't understand why Padmé had shirked the queen, and their dour demeanors were a small dampener on the bright mood. Even so, Padmé managed to ignore them.
They set up their picnic in the middle of a swaying field of tall golden grass. The distant rumble of cascading waterfalls coupled with the soft hum of the breeze provided a euphonious ambiance. With a hand held out to prevent any crumbs from falling onto her dress, Padmé nibbled at one of the sandwiches Jobal had prepared and engaged in pleasant conversation with Darred while Sola tried to wrangle her irrepressible daughters. Every now and then, Padmé's eyes darted to Jobal and Ruwee – her biological parents. She couldn't help but try to see herself in them. Jobal looked quite a bit like Sola, although she was shorter. Perhaps that was where Padmé got her height from. She supposed she looked more like Ruwee, but maybe that was just her seeing what she wanted to see. Regardless, Padmé had no doubt that they were her parents. She could sense it.
When they returned to the villa, Padmé excused herself to go back to her room. Sealing the door shut behind her, she produced a holoprojector from her bag and set it down on the bed. She sifted through the various com codes for a long while before finding the correct one. For a few minutes, she waited. Nervous energy manifested in a tapping foot and incessant blinking. She could scarcely believe she was doing this.
"Yes?"
Padmé inhaled and assumed her emotionless diplomatic posture.
"Mr. Clovis, it's good to speak with you."
Rush Clovis was an obsequious man. Despite being the head of the Banking Clan, he was nothing more than a pawn. It was through Palpatine's machinations that he earned that position, and because of that he was little more than a puppet of the Chancellor.
"Senator Amidala! I didn't expect your call."
"That's right," Padmé said, chin raised. "This is more of an impromptu communication."
Clovis' projection frowned. "May I inquire what this is about?"
Padmé's expression darkened. "I require your services, Clovis."
"My services, ma'am?"
"Expect my arrival some time tomorrow."
She made to turn off the holoprojector, but Clovis stopped her. "Senator, if you would. What is the meaning of this? Is the Senate investigating –"
"Don't worry, Clovis. Your corruption continues to go on unbeknownst to the Senate."
Clovis' eyes bulged out of their sockets. He of course had no idea how knowledgeable she was of his affairs. Her role as Palpatine's chief ally was a secret to the entire galaxy at large.
Until now.
"Thank you for your cooperation."
This time, Padmé deactivated the holoprojector before Clovis could say any more. Smiling to herself, she stared off into space for a moment. A cloud rolled in and the warm sunlight momentarily faded, the room subdued in shadow. Her expression sobered as anxiety took root in the pit of her stomach. If her master were to find out what she was up to…
A knock at the door pulled her out of her musings. She hastily swiped the holoprojector and stuffed it back into her bag.
"I'll be there in a minute, Sabé!"
She froze when it was not Sabé who answered, but Sola.
"Padmé, open up! I need to talk with you."
Zipping up her bag, Padmé hurried to answer. With a tap of the control panel, the door slid open to reveal her sister.
"Hi Sola," she said cheerily. "I was just –"
She stopped in her tracks when Sola stepped aside to reveal Jobal. The woman's expression was grim.
"We need to talk."
Padmé glanced at Sola. "What's going on?" she asked.
Wringing her wrists, Sola glanced back and forth between her mother and sister. "Padmé, I…"
Padmé gasped. "You told her, didn't you?"
"Why don't we step inside."
"Sola, how could you?"
"Padmé, please."
Fuming, Padmé spun on her heel and marched back into the bedroom. She stopped at the head of the bed and turned to face them.
"Well?" she asked when the door closed.
"Padmé, I'm sorry," Sola said, hands raised. "She cornered me! I had no choice –"
"You've put her in danger! You've put everyone in danger!"
"Padmé –"
"I told you not to tell anyone! You promised!"
"I –"
"Stop this."
Jobal's authoritative instruction silenced both sisters. They turned to her, Sola's face flushed and Padmé's taut.
"I figured it out on my own well enough," Jobal said, her voice a low whisper. "I saw your reaction when I showed you my locket. I figured you knew something about my daughter and felt guilty, but when I saw how you acted around the girls this afternoon…" She trailed off, jaw set and eyes shining. "Sola didn't betray your trust. I already knew. You are my daughter."
Padmé swallowed hard. Emotion bubbled up within her, but she wouldn't permit it to burst to the surface. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she said.
"Sola explained to me your situation."
"Then you know how dangerous it is for you to know."
Jobal clasped her hands tightly in front of her and looked down at the ground. "That man stole you from us. He stole my girl from me."
Padmé took a tentative step forward. "I'm going to make this right," she said.
Jobal looked up sharply. "Make it right?" she echoed. "How?"
"I'm going to destroy him."
Jobal shared a nervous glance with Sola. "That won't make it right," she said hoarsely.
"But it's a step."
"Padmé, be careful," Sola warned.
Padmé scoffed. "I've been careful my whole life. It's time to change that." She held out her hand, palm pointed to the ceiling. A surge of electricity coursed down her arm and erupted in a crackling blue ball. Sola and Jobal both jumped back in shock. "I am powerful," she growled. "I'm not afraid."
The electricity reflected in the wide eyes of her mother and sister. She relished their amazement and even their apprehension. Never had she been able to flaunt her powers like this. It was liberating to reveal herself in this way.
Tentatively, Jobal reached out toward Padmé's outstretched hand. Threading her fingers into her own, she curled them back into her palm. The electricity was abruptly quelled.
"You might not be afraid, but I am," Jobal said. "I've only just found you. I don't want you lose you again."
"You won't," Padmé insisted.
Jobal considered her expression for a moment. Suddenly, she raised her hand and cupped Padmé's cheek. Padmé was paralyzed, eyes wide and body rigid.
"Celine."
A tear escaped her eye. The contrived confidence shattered and all of a sudden she was a little girl again.
"That is what I named you," Jobal whispered. She wiped away the droplet with her thumb, leaving a trail of tingling sensation on Padmé's cheek. "Celine Naberrie. My girl."
She had a name. A true one. A right one. Padmé Amidala was the lie.
But Celine Naberrie was not yet the truth.
"I have to go," Padmé said.
Jobal lowered her hand and Padmé was released from her enchantment.
"I'm going to Scipio tomorrow. There's something I have to do."
Jobal bowed her head. "I see."
"Your… my father, he can't know," Padmé said. "He doesn't know, does he?"
"Dad can be pretty oblivious," Sola said with a dash of levity.
"Promise me you won't tell him. Not yet."
Jobal sighed. "It won't be easy."
"Mother. Please."
Jobal's lips parted as she met her gaze. She stared at her and Padmé stared right back, mother and daughter enraptured by each other.
"For you, anything."
Once again, Padmé had to bite back her rush of emotion.
"I won't let you down," she said. "I will defeat him. There will be justice."
For once, she had a cause. Something to fight for. Something to bleed for.
She had to emerge victorious.
Or else she would lose everything.