Wee, this is my longest chapter yet. I don't own, so please don't sue. Please please don't sue at 6:30 in the morning when I have yet to sleep. Enjoy!
The gown of a queen
In the chaos of the ball, the invitation is forgotten. It is forgotten at least by my parents, but amidst the pointless fittings in the quaint dress shop, I wonder about it. While a traditional high collared, very loose senators gown is fitted on my body, I spot a dark corner in the dress shop. The droid who was pinning me beeps in rapid confusion and follows me with its frenzied beeping.
The dark corner has an old fashioned sliding door, one that needed no hand prints. It does a variant of an eye scan while I am looking for the opening latch. Now, keep in mind I had no idea what possessed me to go so quickly to the corner. Upon the doors opening, I see what did.
It was a personal fitting room from what looked to be a queen's room. The colors are royal in richness. There's a dress form in the center of the room. It has brown hair that hits the floor. Subconsciously, I finger my own loose braid that is its match in length. When I first walked in, the dress form was all that was in the room. When I come close enough to touch its hair, the room bursts to life.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the droid that I was using trade places with a dusty protocol droid. It used to be a golden color. Lights turn on then, creating a warm almost sea side glow. There are even faint waves heard over the sound system. The room's walls slide over to reveal a massive closet along the walls. One corner is a makeup station, with enough white makeup to make a clown cry. Everything from a child's robe to a beaded flowing water dress lives there. They are dust free and look as fresh as they were just made; in contrast to crusty cake make-up. There is even warrior's garb that matches my lounging clothing. I have a feeling the blaster attached to it isn't a costume remake. Next to it is a looser version of it, with detached gloves versus an undershirt. I doubt the burn holes were from ironing as well.
The droid shuffles in and the entrance closes. In a robotic 'tsking' noise, it calls for R2. I am confused when a sub dressing room slides open and a white and blue R2 unit comes out. The two have a conversation that sounds very one sided against the r2's beeps.
Before I can really grasp the conversation, as the language was one I barely learned early in school, I am pushed into the dressing room. With almost relaxing motions and sounds, I am encouraged to drop the senators gown to the floor (in which it is sucked away somewhere by a vent) and I am left in a slip body suit. I feel rather naked yet my pride will not let me cover myself. I have nothing to hide anyway.
I am asked what date it is. The droids nearly explode. In a patient huff, I sit down, and play with my hair. My nails need to be clipped. After a while, the arguing ceases. The droids are staring at me. Mechanical beings with no mind of their own are staring at me. Slowly, I stand, and their eyes follow my body to the door. Leaning against the door frame, I try to activate it by waving a hand behind my back. It doesn't work. I smile to hide my discomfort.
"Hi there." Silence follows. The golden droid shuffles forward. The R2 unit follows. It beeps once. "Of course she is the queen. Who else could she be?" They think I am the queen? I could be killed for treason? Wait…who is the queen? I ask this. The silence that was before the last droid explosion happens again. It never comes though. The R2 unit beeps many times. "She isn't the queen. You are quite right R2. Well then, who ever you are, we have to dress you properly." The droids shuffle and roll away. I really have no choice but to follow.
Some time later, I can feel my parents wondering where I am. On my body, is a magnificent blue and white schemed gown. The bodice is tight and fits like a jacket till my waist. From there, the blue velvet opens up to a white full skirt. The sleeves are barely bell shape, with slight beaded French cuffs that hit the shoulder with a medieval cuff. The cuff is where my sleeves turn white. I turn in the mirrors, again led by the pushy droids. I am very pleased. I tell them so.
A flurry of movement later, the dress is bagged. The receipt on it reads 'paid in full'. I am confused. My confusion is not satisfied as I am pushed out the door. No one is in the place. It seems empty for the moment. On the counter, I leave a note that says 'leave on the tab of Leia Organa'. I will use my money that I've saved for secret times before my parents can get angry again.
They don't see the gown until days later. Mother is furious with where the money came from. I said that I paid for it already. What else do you do with money that doesn't leave your hands for years? Father smiles when he sees me in it. Its heart warming till the day of the ball.
Like? Hate? Really, any title ideas? Please tell me.
This is chapter 3 of SWs goes twisted by Saturns darkness.