I still need a title. Any ideas? Enjoy reading the things that I don't really own...
Three ways to confusion
At home, I am chastised for my actions. It was odd only for the expression in my parents' eyes. It wasn't anger, it was pain. Yes, I am 17, and yes, I still live with my parents. Really, I have no reason to leave my parents. They have placed me on a political path of power with a twinge of protectiveness. I can be in charge in public events but at school functions, I was ordered to stay with the group.
It was probably because Vader always sat in on our lessons and ended up picking out students for 'special studies'. I lost many friends that way. Their contact just kind of faded away. As far as I know, I am the only one to not be touched by the one called Vader. It's not like I want him to, or anything. It's more of an oddity. Its many different oddities when there are silent vigils for fallen comrades. There hasn't been a war in decades. Sometimes, it seemed there was a guardian up there in the ranks for me.
The fuss of the new emperor has subsided to finally leave just a royal political ball. Yes, I say Royal because we all have our lines based somewhere in the old blood of the old republic where 300 were squires and 2 were kings. I can still remember when our invitation arrived.
I had been bent over my studies. Today is was basic calculus and the diplomacy derived from it. In the privacy of my own room I had taken the options of an old warriors garb and had done my hobby of finding incredibly odd hair styles for my long brown hair. Burgundy is generally looked down upon, but that was what the warriors garb was. I did not truly notice this as I felt for my parents, and did not find them. With idle curiosity of a delivery at dusk, I did not let the serving girl, Mara, get it. Subconsciously, I brushed the loose strands of hair back into my low double buns.
In front of the door is…my twin? She is a little taller than me, and a little thinner than me, but other than that, we match in identity. Immediately, she kneels. I stare at her, mouth agape. This was reserved for Lord and Lady Vader only. Hoping that the security droids didn't have a protocol breech chip, I physically force her to rise. Eyes down she hands me an expensive heavy envelope through the orange faded sleeves. I take it and thank her. Out of an uncomfortable silence, when she is finally looking at me, again with pain in her eyes, I ask her name. She says Padme. Before any more can be said, she scurries off.
Closing the door, I can faintly feel my parents entering from the side door. My curiosity is too great to not open this now, however. With pale hands, the royal seal is broken with the intertwined P and A perfectly in tact when it is pulled off the tab. It's an invitation to a ball, written in the archaic writing of Naboo. The reason is not printed on it. The signature at the end seems to be ink, rather than a stamp. I can tell it isn't from a droid because there is a small ink blot on the near by corner were the pen tested. I feel the very thick back. Visually, it is thicker than the front.
I'm about to investigate further when I noticed my father in the dinning room door way. He is angry? Panicked? Scared? In my suddenly scared state, I drop the invitation. Three pieces of paper fall to the ground. "Go to your room. You have studying to do." I wouldn't dare disobey him with that tone. But I would wonder. Why the tone? Why the extra piece of paper? Why was my mother crying later?
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This is chapter two of a AU star wars fic by Saturns Darkness