InsaneJournal

Joy had brought Padmé near distraction. It was perhaps understandable, however Padmé could not help but feel that she had perhaps been a bit negligent towards Sabé’s knowledge. Part of it was not wanting to open up the envelope of grief that she could feel spilling from her handmaiden, but she realized that was a selfish urge. Her own sorrow was unlike Sabé’s and truly she needed to allow her the time to process.

But she also needed to know what Sabé knew, what she would need to tell her.

A cup of tea was poured as they settled into the apartments. How many years had they worked together here? Even though many times it was just through their comm links? Memories echoed the walls, even if this was likely just a reproduction in this world of her Coruscant home.

She wondered if perhaps she could one day receive the lake house. Far happier memories abounded.

“Sabé,” Padmé handed the cup over to her friend, prepared as she had memorized approximately even if the drink was from a different world. “I... know that you are from after I have passed. Are you able to tell me what you know?”

"It's so strange to see this place inside something else," Sabé said as they settled. Although the handmaidens had more often served Padmé than the other way around, it wasn't unheard of for Padmé to be the one pouring tea even when not disguised as a handmaiden herself. The way Padmé didn't hold herself above others was one of the many things Sabé loved best about her. She looked around the apartment from her seat as she held her teacup. No speeders would be pulling up outside here, and the view was much changed from Coruscant.

Sabé took a sip of her tea and smiled sadly to Padmé; when Sabe had arrived, she hadn't needed to speak it for Padmé to know the timing. "What I know? What I know is almost nothing. It makes no sense. One day you were attending Palpatine's declaration of the Empire and I was trying to find out what really happened at the Jedi Temple, then you were out of communication, and then you... you were..."

It had all happened so fast. She had been so foolish, truly, to think that Anakin was not only innocent, but if any of what Obi-Wan had said was true that she could turn him back to the light. That their love had meant more than the fear and anger that consumed him from within without her seeing anything more than the passion that glowed from it.

There had been no time to alert Sabé. Or perhaps there had, just another in the list of mistakes she had made to bring destruction upon her loved ones.

“Childbirth,” she answered quietly. “I died in childbirth. But I had been injured prior, which likely contributed.”

That shouldn't have happened. Sabé was no doctor or medical droid, but people didn't just die in childbirth in the Core. Perhaps Padmé hadn't had any medical assistance for her injuries, and coupled with the stress of childbirth... but Sabé was speculating. She wanted to know what happened, but what mattered more was being honest with Padmé.

She reached a hand for Padmé's, undisguised grief on her face. "Padmé, I'm so sorry. Your child... your child wasn't born. I'm so, so sorry."

Padmé reached out in sync, taking Sabé’s hand in her own. There was so much that had been hidden. Necessary, yes, but her heart ached that Obi-Wan or Bail had not brought Sabé into their confidence. But it would have been a dangerous link to Padmé herself, a link that Anakin could have followed.

“They were.” Her smile was tight, a trembling mixture of joy and grief for her twins. “Twins. But my death. It became necessary to hide them from Anakin. He could not know they survived.”

Out of necessity and long familiarity, they had grown adept at reading between the lines and extrapolating from a few of each other's words. Sabé's thought process went something like this:

Padmé had looked very, very pregnant in her funeral bier, not the still-swollen belly of someone who had recently given birth but the full roundness of carrying a child. However it had been accomplished, someone had decided that Padmé needed to appear as if her child— children— had died with her.

Specifically, they'd decided the birth of these twins needed to be hidden from their own father. Their father, Anakin, who reports had said was dead like nearly all the other Jedi. They wouldn't need to be hidden from him unless he was alive despite claims otherwise, and whoever hid them had known this.

Any children born of a Jedi or a union with a Jedi would surely be in danger in this new Empire, and they'd need to be hidden for their safety. But if their own father could not know...

"... What did he do?"

Her grip on Sabé’s hand tightened momentarily, though she trained her face to the calm mask that she relied on. It somehow made it easier. If Amidala could somehow provide the support for her to say the words, almost as if all her handmaidens were there to hold her up even if only in spirit.

“Anakin helped establish the Empire.” Her voice sounded cool and almost serene even to herself. Practiced, even if she had never said this aloud. Not yet. There had still been some clinging denial, hoping she could hide behind memories prior to Mustafar. “He destroyed the Jedi. And I. I went to him. I didn’t believe. And once I realized it was all true he...” The calm fractured as she took a breath, trying to center herself. “In his eyes I had betrayed him, and in mine he had betrayed me. So he attempted to remove me. And in the end it seems he was successful.”

Someone on the outside of their experience might think that Padmé was being detached or impersonal by drawing on Amidala to get through this. Sabé knew better. They both used the persona they'd developed together when they needed the steady calm. In a way, it was like using the other's strength, and the other handmaidens as well. It was deeply personal.

Sabé could believe terrible things of Anakin; she'd heard of the disagreements with Padmé, particularly those regarding the late and odious Clovis, and how Anakin could behave hurtfully towards her as if she wasn't the fully capable woman he'd fallen in love with. Padmé had always had such a blind spot when it came to Anakin and even some of the other handmaidens had only paid attention to what was good about him. But this? This was very, very different.

Sabé's face went almost as white as the Amidala makeup, and then flushed with rage as angry tears spilled. The Empire was a complete betrayal of everything Padmé had always fought for, but "attempting to remove" Padmé was a far deeper betrayal from Sabé's perspective. And knowing Padmé, Padmé may well be more hurt by everything he'd done to everyone else rather than her own death. It would be easier, in a way, to focus on the galaxy instead of facing up to her husband turning on her. Sabé had thankfully set the teacup down when Padmé began this line of discussion or else Sabé might have dropped it or hurled it at a wall.

With her free hand, Padmé reached out to gently brush the tears aside. She would never tell Sabé to not cry. Sabé had held so many emotions in over the years of their relationship, she would never deny her the chance to mourn. Because platitudes meant nothing. The galaxy was not all right back home. It was plunged into a darkness that her children would shine light into, only for it to fall again for her grandson’s folly.

Padmé might lie, but never to Sabé.

“He will rise in the Empire. And I am told he wrecks a terrible legacy through it.” Her voice pitched softer. “And because of this, I must tell you that he is here as well, in this town. Before he. Before any of what I have just told you. Because it is likely that you will see him, though I have made it very clear to him to keep his distance.”

And of course he had already moved on, which certainly made it easier for him. It was a situation she could not fully describe. Heartache that was coating fear. And beneath all that an anger that she could not quell but could suppress.

Sabé leaned into Padmé's touch as she allowed herself to cry. She wouldn't allow herself to sob while knowing Padmé needed her, too, even though she knew Padmé would let her.

"Here." On her own, she might have tried to find out how the clone troopers had killed Jedi so she could attempt the same against Anakin, but Padmé might not want him dead... or have a more subtle vengeance in mind for herself, her children, and the Republic. Sabé didn't need to know everything just yet; she needed to know first what Padmé needed her to know. She drew a deep breath, and drew upon Amidala.

"What would you have me do?"

“There is very little we can do.” Padmé admitted, a stance she was not particularly comfortable with. Even in situations where she had been cornered, Padmé had always found some way to do something. But here, what was there to do? There would be no revenge on a man who had technically not done what he would do. And even if there were, they would be automatically suspicious of any harm that might befall him due to it.

And as much as Padmé wanted Anakin to actually suffer and atone, there was part of her still that wanted to reach out for him as she had for so many years. To love and be loved if she ever had been. That bitter lost love was wrapped in the anger and grief, leaving her where she doubted her own judgement.

So she put a smile to her face, because at least she had this respite. “But, even with all that, I would have you be happy. That is what I would have you do.”

"What about surveillance to make sure he... just in case."

Sabé knew how to be happy— being around Padmé, or at least working on Padmé's behalf. That's what had made her the most fulfilled ever since they'd met and bonded during handmaiden training. They both knew how to adapt to wildly different situations and planets, so adjusting to this one shouldn't be too difficult. Whatever work Padmé was doing that Sabé could support, she would do.

But she knew the shadow of Padmé's death would remain, especially with the murderer here with them.

"I'll be happy as long as I'm with you."

"That still gives him control." Padmé shook her head at the suggestion, though she would be lying if she hadn't thought of it herself. "Structuring our lives around him, there's been too much lost to it already."

Her smile glowed at Sabé's words though. "I'm happy with you here." She agreed.