De Re Coquinaria Bellorum Stellarum - The Unofficial "Star Wars – The Clone Wars" Cookbook
Chapter 2: Quid est amicitia?
Riyo might have believed it to have been a hallucination, her ears playing tricks on her, had not the buzzer installed by the bathroom door, a sort of backup-doorbell present in all her rooms in case she didn't hear the original tone, also gone off at the same time. But there it was, the soft tinkling noise telling her she had a visitor.
An actual visitor.
Which was something of a rare occurrence as it was. But at 3 o'clock in the morning?
Another look into the mirror told her there were no smudges of make-up left in her face, and a practiced snatch to the left had her donning her everyday headpiece without even needing to check its fit. It was the least elaborate of the set, but it still weighed heavily on her tired head, used though she might be to its presence. But she kept her head held high, her posture straight, as befitting a noble lady of Pantora. Some things were just too ingrained to let go off, childhood training and last defenses against all those slights by her uncle kicking in, born with a polite smile and a cool mien as her soul curled in on itself. An automatic response to the unexpected, by now.
So much for a peaceful night...
The doorbell sounded again as she exited the bathroom, making her call "On my way" in the direction of the door before remembering that the senatorial suites were sound-proof inside and out.
Still, she wasn't so stupid as to simply open the door before knowing who was waiting outside, experience having taught her caution long ago. The troopers down in the lobby hadn't called ahead to announce a visitor, which was strange in and on itself. The person in front of the door had to be either another inhabitant of 500 Republica, or an intruder. Knowing her luck, it was probably the latter. Grabbing her comm.-link and a very small hand blaster from the elegant little bureau in her sitting room, she activated its connection to the speaker system. The camera above the door outside showed a seemingly small, slim figure with brown hair, holding what looked like a bulky package.
Maybe it would be best to call in the guards... But still – the figure looked familiar somehow...
"Yes, please? Who is it?" There was an edge to her voice she herself couldn't identify. Fear? No. Danger? Maybe. Resolution seemed fitting. Now that would be a new one. She grimaced slightly at the cynicism still present in her mental comments. A depressive night, indeed. At least her mind still had a sense of humor, if a dark one.
The figure outside looked up into the camera, giving her a friendly smile. "Senator Chuchi? It's Padmè Amidala. I know it's rather late, but I was assured you'd still be awake tonight. I came to bring you a New Year's gift." She raised the package slightly to the camera.
Oh.
Huh.
So much for that.
Senator Padmé Amidala Naberrie from Naboo. The former Queen Amidala of Naboo. One of the idols of her youth, ever since she'd managed to end the Trade Federation's blockade of her planet through clever political maneuvering, an uncommon readiness to search for unconventional solutions, and sheer force of will. One of the most influential politicians currently alive. Head of the Senate opposition to the war, to which she also belonged, and a known pacifist.
Brave. Strong. Determined. So much like her mother, so unlike herself.
Standing at her front door. With a New Year's gift. For her.
So then... She exhaled slowly.
"Is this a bad time, Senator Chuchi? I'm sorry if I interrupted you in something – I can come back in the morning if you'd like." Senator Amidala's tentative question made her realise she hadn't given an answer to the original statement. The wine must really be getting to her brain.
Oh. The wine. Right. Talk about first impressions...
"No, it's fine, Senator. I was simply – surprised. Just give me a minute to make myself presentable – I wouldn't want to scare you right out of the door again."
She could hear the laughter in the senator's answering "Of course" even as she turned to put the blaster into the bureau again and carry the glass and decanter into her office, nearly tripping over her discarded shoes on her way there.
Right. Maybe she should switch the lights on first next time.
Shoes might be a good idea, too, the darkly humorous voice in her head added sarcastically.
Nothing could be done about the lack of marks and make-up, but Senator Amidala hadn't sounded like she was here on official business, and anyway, the woman outside was said to be a rather forgiving person, for all she hadn't truly met her before, mandatory introductions aside. Surely someone like that would understand that she wasn't the perfectly coiffed and clad representative while sitting alone in her rooms sometime between midnight and morning? If only because she was also a female from a culture that put great emphasis on complicated, inconvenient hair styles?
Wouldn't she?
And why was she nervous about this, anyway? It was just a social visit, not a coronation ceremony. Not that she was much of an expert in either of those.
You're babbling.
Right... No time like the present. Hitting the lighting panel so the sitting room was illuminated by a warm, yellow glow and pulling on the simple black high heels she'd doffed by the kitchen door when she'd come back hours ago, she finally made herself open the front door and, a sheepishly-friendly smile on her lips, face the human senator who was still waiting patiently, box-like package in hand.
"Please excuse the delay, Senator Amidala – I'm so sorry to keep you waiting so long. I wasn't expecting anyone tonight, and so everything was a little... chaotic."
Talk about sounding like a professional. What must the senator be thinking? She straightened her shoulders a bit more, the by now painful strain on her spine enhancing her concentration.
But her visitor's face simply lit up in an answering smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. "There's no need to apologise, Senator Chuchi. I know that problem. Believe me, you wouldn't want to see the state of my apartment right now. I only just got back two hours ago, and the luggage is still... – 'Work in progress' might be the best term for it."
The senator seemed to suppress a laugh as another thought hit her. "My mother used to ask whether she should consider my room a piece of modern art or a hazard zone, she couldn't tell the difference. I remember one time when she actually threatened to call in the hazmat team." For a second they both chuckled at the absurdity of the idea. The tension in her shoulders eased a little bit.
"Do you mind if I come in for a moment, Senator Chuchi? I think this parcel might need a bit of an explanation when you open it."
Force, where were her manners? "But of course – please, step inside." She opened the door wider. "I'm so very sorry, this is truly not like me – it's been a very long day."
The senator smiled politely, yet somehow managed to infuse the expression with sincere warmth. "Thanks. And don't worry – I understand completely. I almost forgot about the gift, there were so many things on my mind when I returned – otherwise I'd have called earlier. But then again, you look like you only just came home yourself, Senator. Are you sure this is a convenient time?"
She looked down at the long black-and-white gown she was wearing, elegant in its simplicity, covering all of her except her delicate shoulders, the light blue skin of which stood in stark contrast to the colourless dress. They weren't the richly embroidered traditional robes usually worn on this occasion, nothing but their colour relating them to those highly formalised, often antique pieces of clothing, but her designer had told her that going traditional was considered absolutely out-of-style on Coruscant these days, way too prudish and old-fashioned for a tolerant and sophisticated society such as this one. So she'd gone with his suggestion instead, and was still feeling the adverse effects of that choice in the chill that had settled into her bare shoulders and arms, for all that he had been right about Coruscanti fashion for this event.
Shaking off the memory, she brushed the senator's question aside with an inviting gesture of her hand.
"Absolutely sure – I've been back for hours, and just haven't gotten around to changing out of this dress so far." She shrugged, feeling somewhat self-conscious, but then noticed that the normally elegant woman in front of her was still in her travel clothes, as well. The small sign eased her mind somewhat as to the impression she might be giving just now. And the senator sounded nice enough, too.
She gestured towards the sitting area. "Please, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink, or some refreshments? I'm sure my droid could..."
"No, thank you, Senator Chuchi." Her guest moved gracefully towards the sofa, setting her package softly on her knees, as Riyo took a seat on the edge of the armchair to the right. "Actually, that's something to do with the gift I brought. I hope this isn't too presumptuous of me, but it's a tradition your predecessor and I started among ourselves, and I thought it might be nice to continue with it, now that you're here. A sort of more personal welcome to your senatorial rank. So... here you are. Happy New Year to you, Senator Chuchi." Her slim hands carefully handed the gift to Riyo, who took it with equal care, a bit surprised at the weight.
"And to you, too, Senator Amidala. Thank you." She looked up at her visitor somewhat perplexedly, unsure of what to say, trying to convey her earnest gratitude for the gesture, yet at the same time conscious of the fact that they were nearly strangers. How did one combine politeness, warmth and sincerity? It looked so natural on her companion's face, a soft crinkling around her eyes and mouth. In the end, she bowed slightly towards her guest, falling back on Pantoran codes of conduct to help her, as they so often did. "Thank you very much, Senator. This is truly unexpected – but it's a most welcome surprise. I guess I'm supposed to open this now?"
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble?" A customary reply. Senator Amidala actually looked a bit tense, as if she was as unsure of this situation as Riyo, or at least not quite certain of the gift she'd chosen. The apprehension wasn't obvious, probably not even noticeable for most people, but easily readable for someone who often felt high-strung on nervous tension.
"When has opening gifts ever been too much trouble?" She grinned slightly, glad that she wasn't the only one using politeness and protocol as a guard in this moment, and was relieved to see an answering smile at her levity.
What a strange situation, indeed.
The gift, once the shimmering flimsi paper fell away, turned out to be a beautiful wooden box, polished to a sheen and covered by layers of lacquer for protection, the lines in the wood broken only by the nearly invisible seam separating the lid from the actual box. Its size was perfect for storing datacards, pads or flimsi documents inside, and she already knew it would go into her office, both for practical use and as a reminder of her first New Year on Coruscant, and the unexpected turn the night had just taken.
Senator Amidala interrupted her before she could start saying her thanks again, leaning forward a bit in her seat, gesturing with her hands for emphasis. "The box is made of the wood of a tree on Naboo. It was manufactured by the Gungans, they have a special technique for making it waterproof. It's Representative Bings' part of the gift. He's still on Naboo, but I am to give you his sincere well-wishes for the New Year." A twinkle in her eyes, she added: "And yes, Senator, you are supposed to open that, too."
Riyo smiled a little at the memory of the bumbling, babbling, but very friendly Gungan Representative whom she'd seen in the Senate halls a few times. She'd make sure to personally thank him for the gift when she next met him – it really was a beautiful piece of work, very similar to some classic Pantoran carpenters' techniques. Maybe she could ask him in detail about how it was done, the carpenters in her domain might be interested in...
Later.
She truly ought to do the senator's gift the justice it deserved. Carefully, she lifted the lid of the box, smiling slightly at the soft, blue lining inside, before taking in the various contents. Two white mugs were easily identifiable, as were a few small glass bottles holding clear beverages of various colours, a glass tin holding caf beans, a smaller one filled with tea, and what looked like a cookie jar. She lifted each item out of the box to study them for a moment, noting the subtle design on the mugs, the exquisite quality of the food, and the alcoholic content of some of the bottles, various whiskeys and liquors. In the end, only a cylindrical metal container was left, about the size of the packs of caf and tea, unmarked, rustling slightly when she shook it. With a questioning look at her smiling guest, she opened the cylinder to find some strange, dark brown chips inside from which a sweet, rich aroma rose to her nostrils.
"It's chocolate."
Her confusion must have been apparent, for the senator once again started explaining her gift. "This might seem strange, but I thought I'd give you what I call my 'emergency survival kit for politics' – if only to prepare you for the catastrophes sure to come." Her eyes were twinkling again while she said it, indicating the humorous nature of the statement, for all its pragmatic accuracy.
"The caf is for early mornings and late night marathon sessions, obviously, and the tea is to help you calm down and keep your cool. As for the chocolate – it's the basis for hot chocolate, which serves either a soul-soother after dealing with the real catastrophes, or a celebration drink for the great victories. Or simply for cold evenings like this one, or watching a holodrama with friends. The alcohol can be added on an as-needed basis – as I said, emergency kit. I'd recommend the sweet drinks for the hot chocolate, and the dry ones for caf and tea. Plus cookies – cookies simply make everything better, in my experience."
The senator smiled somewhat self-deprecatingly, shrugging as if to make light of her own words and gift. "I'd have added something a bit more personal, like music or a good book for the quiet evenings, but – I simply do not know you that well yet, Senator Chuchi, though I'm hoping this will change over the course of the next few years. And since this ceremony seems to be so important to Pantorans, I didn't want to spoil your first New Year's on Coruscant by choosing the wrong gift, so..."
It was strange to see the normally determined senator so uncertain, as if afraid of giving offense.
As if a justification was needed for an act of unexpected friendliness. Maybe they had both been politicians for too long already, to always feel the need to defend themselves and their actions in every situation. Distrust was something of an occupational hazard in their line of work, life-saving though it often was when surrounded by layers and layers of presumptions, suppositions and allegations. And yet it was sad to see how not even small niceties could go unexplained in this trade.
"It's a very charming idea, and I thank you for sharing it with me. – I..." She herself was also searching for words, all of them seeming inadequate in view of the present she'd just been given – a truly fitting and interesting one, not to mention funny, for all that the senator seemed to think differently. A real gift, on a night when she hadn't expected to receive one anymore.
In the end, she did what every politician had learned never to do and simply settled for the unguarded truth. "Really, thank you very much. It's wonderful, Senator. A very thoughtful and personal gift. I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness, both in remembering our New Year's festival and in giving this to me. I only regret I do not have anything to give you in return – I just didn't expect anyone to bring me any gift this year, at all."
Senator Amidala smiled, both in relief and pleasure at finding her present so well-received. "There's no need, Senator Chuchi. I'm just glad you like it. I was somewhat worried it wouldn't suit your tastes, it's such a simple thing – and not everybody likes chocolate, after all."
It was her turn to smile and lift her shoulders somewhat self-consciously, feeling the ice melt away after all. "I've never had it before, to be honest. It sounds like a lovely drink, though, from the way you describe it – surely the right thing to have on a night like this one. Would you..." She halted for a minute, then simply decided not to allow herself time for second thoughts, or for her personal inner jester to find its voice again. "I mean, if it's not asking too much, would you mind showing me how to make this hot chocolate? You seem to like it, and this way, I can at least share my New Year's gift with you. If you've got the time, that is, and want to, and..."
The senator laughed lightly, relieved and amused all at once. "I'd love to – I'm something of a closet chocoholic, myself. We'll need to move to the kitchen for that, though. I hope you've got some milk around to heat?"
They both rose even as she nodded, Riyo picking up the supplies and moving towards the kitchen while her guest continued to talk, her voice, musical in relaxation, filling the silence usually permeating her rooms. "I've been waiting for an opportunity to get to know you a little better, to be honest, but everything has simply been so busy during the last two weeks, and then the crisis on Naboo threw everything into disarray even more."
Riyo shrugged the apology off with a dismissive gesture, moving to see if she could help her guest, though the former queen seemed to have the task well in hand. "Think nothing on it, Senator, please. Work has been piling up here, too, as you might easily imagine – settling into a new office isn't exactly the honour and the pleasure it's made out to be by the society holos. But speaking of Naboo – I hope your journey here went well? We were all shocked upon hearing what happened to you in that lab. If it hadn't been for the Jedi..."
"Don't remind me. I'm just glad it is all over and done, and with minimum casualties at that. I don't even want to imagine what might have happened if Master Skywalker hadn't..." The senator shook her head vigorously, as if to banish the memories from her mind, before turning to Riyo once more, looking her dead in the eyes: "By the way, I read about your work on reforming Pantora's long range emergency coverage these last two years; the model was adopted by the outlying stations on Naboo a few months ago. It was actually part of the reason why we learned about Dr. Vindi's machinations so fast. They're already reporting some improvements in general health care, as well, and are optimistic about further enhancing their reaction parameters. It's a very promising start so far, Senator Chuchi. My thanks to you on behalf of the Naboo. I hear you're working on exporting the technique to other planets, as well?"
Senator Amidala moved through her standard-issue kitchen with ease, placing a pot on the heater, measuring out two gallons of milk and setting them to boil. Standing beside her, Riyo nodded in sincere thanks for the compliment. The project was one of her most urgent interests, all the more so because of the war.
"I'm trying to convince other systems of the benefits of not only planetary aid systems and relay networks, but also an independent, interplanetary aid society – a neutral organisation created to give aid to civilians in emergency situations, be it in a war like the one we're fighting now, or after natural disasters, accidents – all manner of catastrophes, really. Its stations would be based on planets all throughout the galaxy, and whichever station happened to be close enough could react to the problem immediately, without having to deal with conflicting interagency or interplanetary authorities first.
It would be even better if it could be created as an organisation totally independent from planetary governments, or even the senate, serving the people, and no one else. That way political schemes could be prevented from toying with lives, or so I hope. But it's early days yet – the GAS is still in its foundation process, and hasn't been involved in the war for long. That conflict will be our make-or-break moment, really – so far, I'm not sure which it's going to be. Why – are you interested in helping?"
Her guest nodded, not taking her eyes off the nearly boiling milk. "I might be. You'll have to tell me more about your aid society one of these days – it sounds like one of the few causes in this war truly worth supporting."
"Thanks. I'm glad you think so, Senator – I still hope that some good might come off even such a terrible conflict, if only as a side-effect." She crossed her arms, feeling the mantle of seriousness settle on her shoulders once more. Work never ceased, it seemed. "We'll have to discuss it in earnest one of these days."
"But maybe not tonight, am I right?" Senator Amidala shot her a quick smile, apparently having noticed her mood change. Something inside her loosened at seeing her veiled exhaustion mirrored on her companion's face. "Even important business like that should be allowed to rest at 3 o'clock in the morning on a holiday."
With a swift twist of her wrist, the senator added the amount of chocolate she'd measured out earlier to the boiling milk, shutting off the stove and stirring vigorously. "Could you hand me those mugs, please? And one of the liquors – whichever you'd like."
Riyo shook her head gracefully, humor colouring her voice despite the lonely memories of the last few hours – she herself couldn't tell how much of it was feigned, and how much might be genuine amusement at herself and the irony of the situation. The thought made her smile even wider. "Oh, no more alcohol for me tonight, please! I already had enough wine and ambrosia on the various festivities I attended tonight – any more and you'll have to enjoy the hot chocolate on your own, for I'll be asleep where I stand! Which one would you prefer for yourself?"
Senator Amidala good-naturedly declined: "Thanks, but no thanks, Senator Chuchi. I won't deprive you of your stores just after handing them to you. Plus, my mother used to tell me that drinking alone was sure to make you depressive, and I don't need to have a psychological check-up on top of everything else."
Now that is a piece of wisdom the truth of which I can attest to... The thought was rueful, yet somehow less serious than it probably would have been only half an hour ago. Apparently the senator's mother was right: Being in company did change one's outlook on things, indeed. She watched as the former queen poured chocolate into mugs, handing her one of them and taking up the other one herself.
"I guess we'll both be responsible, then – if only so as not to fall asleep behind our desks tomorrow. And please, call me Riyo. Shall we go back to the sitting room?"
The human woman nodded in acceptance, answering both her offer and her question. Warmth coloured her voice again, telling Riyo she'd made the right decision. "Padmé, then, please. And I'll be right behind you."
Back in their seats, their fingers curled around the warm mugs and their postures much more open and relaxed, they kept their silence for a moment, both appreciating the hot beverage in their hands and waiting for the liquid to cool to drinking temperature. Only the rain falling outside the windows was audible once more, permeating the silence, filling the room with its soft background noise.
Carefully, Riyo took a first sip of the still steaming beverage, trying not to burn her tongue as she swallowed the hot, sweet drink. The chocolate tasted like nothing she'd ever had before, warm and spicy, with a slightly nutsy taste to it, yet at the same time a flavor all of its own. There were probably some spices added to the mixture – chili, if her tongue wasn't deceiving her, and cinnamon – and the underlying sweetness of milk and meli coated the inside of her mouth, but the full, layered flavor of the chocolate was only enhanced by that, as the beverage ran down her throat and warmed her inside out. She hummed lightly in appreciation and took another sip.
"Do you like it?", Padmé asked from where she was leaning in the curve of the settee, softly stirring the teaspoon in her mug to make the drink cool faster.
Glancing at the senator across the rim of her mug, Riyo smiled broadly, even as she took another sip: "I think I might join you in your addiction to this – I'll probably have to ask you to tell me where you get that chocolate sooner rather than later."
Padmé's musical laugh filled the room once more, even as she used both her hands to hold the mug straight: "That won't be a problem – I usually place an order every other month, so just tell me when you run out, and I'll include you in the next delivery. I'm glad you like it – as I said, not everyone does. It's too sweet for some, and a lot of beings prefer to drink it cold, actually. Though how that is supposed to make it better, I'll never understand."
"Well, then it's a good thing I'm from Pantora: We have a great appreciation for both warmth and sweetness – they are what gets us through the long winter months. New Year's Day really wouldn't be the same without at least having hot cakes for breakfast in the morning, even though we all know how terribly unhealthy that is. So, a very good choice indeed, Padmé – thank you again."
"My pleasure, Riyo. Speaking of New Year's traditions, I was under the impression that the celebrations are very much a family holiday on Pantora. At least, that's what your predecessor told me – he always flew home to see his extended family and friends on these days, and I had to send his gift to Pantora or hand it to him when he got back. So – how come you're here rather than there? Or was he just talking about about a family tradition of his?" She leaned forward with interest, even as Riyo set down her mug, a closed expression on her face.
"Senator Chechun is quite right – as you might know, the turning of the year is the most sacred Pantoran holiday, one we do traditionally celebrate it in the circle of our family. Tradition, as a norm, is very important to my people, and the ones surrounding our oldest celebrations most especially so. They are wonderful customs, what with all the old stories and symbols involved, and I'd love to be on Pantora for it all right now, but... Well... I was only inaugurated a few months ago, and I'm still settling into my new office, acclimatising myself to Coruscant and its politics, as it is, so... Going on holiday so soon after coming here, even if it's only for a few days, didn't feel like the responsible thing to do. And since I don't have a lot of family on Pantora, it wasn't too much of a sacrifice, really."
She shrugged, unwilling and unsure of how to explain her real reasons for staying in the capital. How her loneliness would only have been more pronounced on her home planet, how every moment spent in her uncle's house felt like being in a cage again – how she longed to be with her friends on her estates for these days, but had decided to stay on Coruscant, because a futile dream didn't hurt so much if you were far away from its possible realisation rather than up close.
"I see. I'm sorry, Riyo – I heard about your parents' deaths. I should have remembered"
"It's alright – I've never met them, it was a long time ago, and everyone else is very far away right now, so..." Another shrug, for there really wasn't much to be said about this, in her opinion. Nothing she hadn't thought of too often already, anyway. "It's not a great sacrifice, as I said."
Padmé nodded in understanding, finally taking a first sip of her hot chocolate, and waited for a few more swallows before continuing. "I hope I'm not prying into something personal here, Riyo, but I seem to remember... Aren't you related to Chairman Cho, Pantora's political leader, though?"
Riyo could feel her own expression darken almost automatically, the polite facade returning even as her eyes shifted from her guest's face to the dark, rain-covered windows behind the settee. "He is my great-uncle by marriage – he and his wife, my mother's aunt, took me in after my mother's death. I grew up in his household in Athena."
After a moment she made herself turn her gaze back to Padmé, remembering how uncomfortable she'd always felt when she was being deliberately ignored by her uncle. "And yes, you're right – if I were on Pantora right now, I would probably be celebrating with their family, even though I'm not a member of clan Cho. They're my closest relatives, and they cordially invite me to join them each year. Regretfully, I was unable to oblige their friendliness this time." The coolness in her voice was audible even to herself, an unconscious slight she hoped the senator wouldn't misunderstand as being directed at her.
Instead of looking offended, Padmé laughed slightly, though she wasn't sure at what until the senator made her reply, an understanding smile on her lips. "If you worded that sentence any more formally, you could replace C-3PO as my major domus. I take it your uncle wasn't too happy about you declining to attend? He certainly seems like the kind to be rather unforgiving on such occasions."
Apparently she wasn't the only one able to read words, faces and postures with ease. She probably should have guessed that Padmé was just as apt to note a change in demeanor as she herself. And she probably shouldn't have said that. Even though it hadn't been a lie, and she couldn't bring herself to regret it, especially since she felt like she could trust the senator with the difficulties of her extended relations. Still, family obligation demanded she voice her critique diplomatically, despite her inability to banish the emotional frost from her answer.
"Their invitation is always given most sincerely, as is their regret at my absence. It's just that my uncle can be rather... uncompromising in voicing his displeasure. His words tend to be somewhat... direct on those occasions."
"Scathing, you mean? I've met the Chairman, Riyo – he's difficult to deal with even on a good day. And I say that after having met him only twice – I cannot imagine what it must be like to see him on a daily basis, not to mention live with him!" There was a dry honesty in her guest's answer, the blatant, dangerous harshness of truth rather than the usual diplomatic lies. Had she truly been set on defending her uncle, that statement would probably have ruined her relationship to the senator of Naboo for good. As it were, she found it to be a refreshing change.
Still... Honour and duty first.
"Chairman Cho is a good man. He's doing what he thinks is the best for his people, for Pantora. I cannot fault him for that, especially not since he's successfully presided over the national assembly for nearly as long as I'm alive."
"Politicians usually do what they think is the best for their people – and themselves, too, coincidentally. Question is – does he really know what is the best for Pantora? Has he ever asked the citizens?" Padmé sounded equal parts amused and passionate as she said this, despite not having raised or otherwise changed her voice. As if only her sarcastic humor was keeping her anger in check – whether at the political system, certain individuals or Chairman Cho in particular, she wasn't sure.
It sounded too much like her own thoughts upon the matter, too much like her reasons for actually entering the political field in the first place. People usually assumed she was trying to follow her mother's footsteps, to carve out a place of her own in the history of Pantora, and while she wasn't about to deny that as a possibility, it had never been her main incentive for choosing politics as her field of interest. She'd never wanted any power – her responsibilities as sovereign Lady of Clan Chuchi would have kept her content and busy for the rest of her life. But she'd learned early on what consequences abuse of power might effect under extreme circumstances – and remembering those lessons, she'd made it her aim to limit the powers of others, to be a voice of reason in the greater and smaller struggles for power she'd been observing ever since she'd been a young child. To keep the peace her mother had fought so hard to create.
So far, she hadn't met many politicians who understood that aim of hers, and even less who might actually share it. It seemed like Padmé Amidala, one of the most influential senators in the Galaxy, might truly be one of them. She couldn't help but smile a little at the thought, at the hope blossoming in her heart upon hearing those words.
But her respect for her uncle and the care he'd given her as a child demanded she be fair about this.
"The national assembly has reinstated him four times so far. That would seem like proof of his capacity for leadership, wouldn't it?"
"The ability to lead is not the same as the wisdom to know which course to take. And we both know that it's also not the only criterion for electing a chair. Not even an important one, to be exact, especially on a planet like Pantora. Ancestry, and favours, and a balance of power between the reigning families are much more significant, not to mention tradition – you said so yourself only minutes ago." Harsh as it sounded, her companion made her statement with a smile on her face – a point of debate, rather than an attack, voiced in a discussion rather than an argument. And it wasn't as if what she was saying was unfounded.
"You're not wrong. I do, however, believe that, were he to lead Pantora into a direction detrimental to our future, the assembly would find in itself the decisiveness to stop him. Even if that meant voting him out of office."
"Is that fact or hope speaking?" - Hope, most certainly; like any good politician, the senator had managed to see through her facade and to unerringly exploit the weak point of her argumentation. Not a good thing, normally.
Tonight, though... She could feel her defenses crumbling – yet she couldn't honestly say she minded. Duty and disposition at war, as the philosophers said. Luckily, she wasn't one of them – she may choose disposition, if so inclined. "Right now, I'd say that depends on just how great a mistake we're talking about."
"So he is capable of making mistakes, after all?" There was a twinkle in Padmé's eyes as she let her rhetorical trap snap shut.
She smiled. So much for trying to adhere to family obligations, however unfounded they might be. Duty and disposition, indeed. "I'm sure you know I wouldn't be part of the assembly's opposition if I didn't think he was in error on quite a few things. But be that as it may, he is my uncle, and as such I owe him loyalty to a certain degree, if only by defending him in public, whether he knows or appreciates it or not. It's a question of duty."
"Spoken like a true Pantoran." A musical laugh, genuine and amused, lightened the atmosphere for a moment before the former queen turned serious again. "But I shouldn't laugh. I have a great respect for your sense of duty, Riyo. It's not something one finds very often in these times and mores. However undeserving it might be in the case of your uncle."
There obviously wasn't much love lost between Senator Amidala and her uncle, the Chairman. Having done her duty, she wasn't about to dissuade her, family obligations be damned, and so she just shrugged noncommittally, not one to contradict the truth of a statement when it was staring into her face in the proof of her own person.
Her own person... Her smile widened into a grin at the thought. It was a start, at least...
Hot Chocolate
200g dark chocolate (at least 55%, for my taste)
200ml milk (or more, depending on your preferences)
2 table spoons of amaretto (if you like, and are old enough!)
chili, pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg
Version 1 (if you'd like to keep to the recipe given above, i.e. have a rather thick, but drinkable hot chocolate)
1. Melt the chocolate in a bain-marie; stir with a whisk every few minutes until the chocolate has melted to liquid. At the same time, heat the milk in a separate pot; take care to take the skin which might develop during the heating process off the milk.
2. Slowly add the boiling milk to the hot chocolate. Stir carefully until you have a smooth liquid.
3. Add amaretto, chili, pepper, cinnamon and/or nutmeg as you like.
Version 2 (if you'd like to add more milk to dilute the chocolate, i.e. have something more akin to cocoa)
1. Cut / Break the chocolate into smaller pieces or use grated chocolate.
2. Heat the milk (however much you think you'll need); take care to take the skin which might develop during the heating process off the milk. Add the chocolate to the milk and stir until all the chocolate has melted and you have a smooth liquid.
3. Add amaretto, chili, pepper, cinnamon and/or nutmeg as you like.
Bon Appetit!
There's obviously very little alcohol in this recipe, and what little is in there mostly (but not totally) evaporates due to the heat of the drink, but still, just so you cannot say I didn't warn you: Please use this recipe responsibly and drink responsibly!
This is the first time I tried to write Padmé so far – somehow, the conversation feels a bit off to me. What do you think – is that just my perfectionism nagging me, or a valid concern? Be that as it may, this is how I imagine Riyo's and Padmé's friendship starts; as for all the small topics hit upon in this chapter, as I said, this is a background story to a larger project I'm still tending to in the back of my brain, and I'll need those details one day. I hope it wasn't too boring or confusing to read. The last part of the chapter will be a bit more elegant, I hope.
Last, but not least, the most important thing: Ahem, ahem. General disclaimer: I do not own nor gain anything (and most certainly no money) by the use of any recognizable material referred to in this FF. I have indicated my sources to the best of my knowledge in the last chapter of this FF; please consult the bibliography you find there and send me a PM if you think that anything is amiss with that list. If I forgot about anything, I will most certainly remedy that mistake as soon as possible; otherwise please trust me that the remaining ideas in this FF are entirely my own, whatever similarity to works unknown to me they might bear, and do me the same courtesy of indicating this FF in your sources in case you plan on using its content. Thanks!