Longing, Part 4
Dec. 11th, 2006 04:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrilMy parents bought us a digital camera a while back, and we didn't use it much at first because we're technogically impaired. Then, when we finally bit the bullet and started taking pictures with it, I discovered the software that came with it was missing. I've been combing the house for it, but nothing so far. We can't pull off any of the pictures onto the computer without it. I'm such a dunderhead. I'd lose my nose and not even notice it was gone for three weeks. :P
Final segment. Maybe next time I'll come up with something that actually has a plot. ;)
Longing
Part 4
----
She had to tell her family over breakfast. Lunch, actually – it was nearly noon by the time she finished conferring with Jamilla. Clearly, they were expecting something serious, so she put a reassuring smile on her face as she sat down. “I have exciting news,” she said, and took a bite of fruit while she watched their reactions.
It was no good. They all still looked wary, anxious. She went on carefully. “The queen has asked that I be appointed the next Senator for Naboo.”
A silence, much like the one between Padmé and Jamilla. “Senator?” Sola repeated finally, her eyebrows drawn together.
“Oh, Padmé,” her mother said with a sigh she didn’t bother concealing. “Haven’t you already done your share of service?”
“More than your share,” her father agreed. He looked at her warmly. “We supported you when you went away to Theed. We knew how much it meant to you. And we knew you had special gifts that would make you a great leader. We even encouraged you to develop those gifts.” His hand tightened around his fork. “But let someone else do it now. Give yourself a break, Padmé!”
Padmé kept opening her mouth, but her family refused to hear any protests. “It doesn’t always have to be you,” Sola said, almost accusingly. “Two terms as queen. You’ve done your part.”
“You’re already earned an honored place in history after what you did during the War,” Mother pointed out. “That should be enough.”
“I’m not trying to earn a place in history,” Padmé finally said, aggrieved. “I’m trying to help people.”
“You have,” her father said exasperatedly. “Each and every citizen of Naboo. We owe you our freedom, our very lives.”
Padmé was beginning to feel her natural stubbornness rising up. “It’s not as if every person has some quota of goodness to fill, and then they’re finished. If I’ve done good work, then why shouldn’t I keep doing it?” She fixed them each with a stare as if daring them to contradict her. “The queen asked me because this is an urgent need, and no one can fill it as readily as I can. Besides, I’ve already agreed. I’m not going to back out on a promise.”
Mother looked down at the table, her eyes glistening. Father and Sola exchanged looks. Padmé’s annoyance vanished, and she poked guiltily at her food.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know you feel this way because you’re concerned for me.” She looked earnestly from one face to another. “I value that concern, I really do. But this is the choice I’ve made. I hope you can accept it.”
“Padmé,” her mother said quietly. “we’re very proud of you. We always will be, no matter what paths you choose to take.” Her father nodded wordlessly. Sola, sitting beside her, squeezed her hand.
---
Padmé spent the afternoon packing up everything she had unpacked the day before. She focused her thoughts on the straightforward work she would be engaged in on Coruscant and shut out the memory of her family’s dismayed faces. For a time, she succeeded fairly well at being dispassionate. When she began folding up her quilt, however, she had to fight back a rising lump in her throat. Swallowing, she held the quilt close to her chest.
“That was from Winama, wasn’t it?”
Padmé turned and saw Sola standing in the doorway, her face sympathetic. Padmé nodded, then set the blanket down gently in her suitcase. Sola watched her for a while without speaking. Then she said, in a guarded tone, “I don’t want you to take this for disapproval, like at lunch. But I have to say I’m surprised.”
Padmé looked up from her suitcases. “What do you mean?”
Sola came and put a hand on her shoulder. “I remember the look you had on your face at my wedding. It’s the same expression you have when you’re playing with Ryoo.”
Padmé looked away. “And what is that?” she said in a would-be casual tone.
Sola said slowly, “It’s hard to describe. It’s not envy. I know you’re happy for me and my family.” Padmé turned, waiting. Her sister blinked. “I suppose the best word for it is longing.”
Longing. Padmé bit her lip, holding back the part of her that was saying Yes, that’s right. “Well, everyone wants a family eventually.”
“Eventually?” Sola smiled gently. “Maybe some people. Not you. You don’t want to wait until you’ve served four terms in the Senate.”
“I want to serve my people.” Padmé said the words like a meaningless mantra. Sola sat down the bed with an exasperated sigh.
“Always the selfless, sacrificing public servant. Since you were eight years old, for goodness sake.” She beckoned for Padmé to sit beside her, and Padmé obeyed even though she knew her sister was about to say any number of things that would make her cringe. “Forgive me for being the meddling older sister, but I don’t get the chance very much. You’re older than I am, in most ways. You know that.”
“I didn’t realize you felt that way,” Padmé said, surprised.
Sola laughed shortly. “Let’s just say I couldn’t have become queen of Naboo at age fourteen. Honestly Padmé, I look up to you.”
Padmé was flattered and embarrassed; she couldn’t think of any reply.
“But I think I found one place where I’m actually your better,” Sola went on, fingering the delicate golden chain around her neck that she had donned on her wedding day. “So I'm going to offer a bit of sisterly advice. Follow it or don’t, but at least trust that I know what I’m talking about.”
“Sola...” Padmé looked at her sister’s serious face and gave up trying to protest. “All right. What is it?”
“You’re not going to find the love of your life in the Senate,” she said bluntly. “And you’re not going to raise a family on Coruscant. This,” and she spread out her hand to indicate their home, the beautiful architecture outside, perhaps the entire planet, “is the place for family.”
“Then I’ll be sure to come back to Naboo when I’m ready to be married,” Padmé laughed. Sola, however, was serious.
“You’ve managed to get through your two terms in Theed without too much damage, though I could argue you’ve had a bit of emotional crippling.” Padmé's eyes widened but she said nothing. “It’ll be worse in the Senate. Politics make for a cold, harsh world. I don’t want you to be lost in it.”
Padmé hesitated, then answered, “I won’t. Thank you, Sola.”
Sola smiled a bit shakily. “I’ll miss you.”
They hugged each other. Then Sola stood up and said, “I’ll let you finish packing.”
Padmé nodded and turned back to her suitcases as Sola left. Her sister had set a whole new string of thoughts moving through her mind. She realized that at the core of all her worries, loneliness was that she feared. In the Senate, surrounded by thousands, she would be utterly alone.
It was reaching out to others that had saved her during the War. Remembering what had encouraged her to do that, Padmé went to her dresser and pulled out the box that she kept her jewelry in. She opened the lid and was greeted with glaring gold and silver, cold shining gems and metals. She hadn’t lost it, had she? No. At the bottom rested an unassuming, hand-carved snippet made of relatively common material. But as Padmé picked it up, its small weight in her palm comforted her, even eased the longing that she had hardly dared to acknowledge until her sister brought it up.
She hadn’t lost the snippet, and she hadn’t lost the part of herself that would be able to love. Someday, her longing would be stilled.
---
Final segment. Maybe next time I'll come up with something that actually has a plot. ;)
Longing
Part 4
----
She had to tell her family over breakfast. Lunch, actually – it was nearly noon by the time she finished conferring with Jamilla. Clearly, they were expecting something serious, so she put a reassuring smile on her face as she sat down. “I have exciting news,” she said, and took a bite of fruit while she watched their reactions.
It was no good. They all still looked wary, anxious. She went on carefully. “The queen has asked that I be appointed the next Senator for Naboo.”
A silence, much like the one between Padmé and Jamilla. “Senator?” Sola repeated finally, her eyebrows drawn together.
“Oh, Padmé,” her mother said with a sigh she didn’t bother concealing. “Haven’t you already done your share of service?”
“More than your share,” her father agreed. He looked at her warmly. “We supported you when you went away to Theed. We knew how much it meant to you. And we knew you had special gifts that would make you a great leader. We even encouraged you to develop those gifts.” His hand tightened around his fork. “But let someone else do it now. Give yourself a break, Padmé!”
Padmé kept opening her mouth, but her family refused to hear any protests. “It doesn’t always have to be you,” Sola said, almost accusingly. “Two terms as queen. You’ve done your part.”
“You’re already earned an honored place in history after what you did during the War,” Mother pointed out. “That should be enough.”
“I’m not trying to earn a place in history,” Padmé finally said, aggrieved. “I’m trying to help people.”
“You have,” her father said exasperatedly. “Each and every citizen of Naboo. We owe you our freedom, our very lives.”
Padmé was beginning to feel her natural stubbornness rising up. “It’s not as if every person has some quota of goodness to fill, and then they’re finished. If I’ve done good work, then why shouldn’t I keep doing it?” She fixed them each with a stare as if daring them to contradict her. “The queen asked me because this is an urgent need, and no one can fill it as readily as I can. Besides, I’ve already agreed. I’m not going to back out on a promise.”
Mother looked down at the table, her eyes glistening. Father and Sola exchanged looks. Padmé’s annoyance vanished, and she poked guiltily at her food.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know you feel this way because you’re concerned for me.” She looked earnestly from one face to another. “I value that concern, I really do. But this is the choice I’ve made. I hope you can accept it.”
“Padmé,” her mother said quietly. “we’re very proud of you. We always will be, no matter what paths you choose to take.” Her father nodded wordlessly. Sola, sitting beside her, squeezed her hand.
---
Padmé spent the afternoon packing up everything she had unpacked the day before. She focused her thoughts on the straightforward work she would be engaged in on Coruscant and shut out the memory of her family’s dismayed faces. For a time, she succeeded fairly well at being dispassionate. When she began folding up her quilt, however, she had to fight back a rising lump in her throat. Swallowing, she held the quilt close to her chest.
“That was from Winama, wasn’t it?”
Padmé turned and saw Sola standing in the doorway, her face sympathetic. Padmé nodded, then set the blanket down gently in her suitcase. Sola watched her for a while without speaking. Then she said, in a guarded tone, “I don’t want you to take this for disapproval, like at lunch. But I have to say I’m surprised.”
Padmé looked up from her suitcases. “What do you mean?”
Sola came and put a hand on her shoulder. “I remember the look you had on your face at my wedding. It’s the same expression you have when you’re playing with Ryoo.”
Padmé looked away. “And what is that?” she said in a would-be casual tone.
Sola said slowly, “It’s hard to describe. It’s not envy. I know you’re happy for me and my family.” Padmé turned, waiting. Her sister blinked. “I suppose the best word for it is longing.”
Longing. Padmé bit her lip, holding back the part of her that was saying Yes, that’s right. “Well, everyone wants a family eventually.”
“Eventually?” Sola smiled gently. “Maybe some people. Not you. You don’t want to wait until you’ve served four terms in the Senate.”
“I want to serve my people.” Padmé said the words like a meaningless mantra. Sola sat down the bed with an exasperated sigh.
“Always the selfless, sacrificing public servant. Since you were eight years old, for goodness sake.” She beckoned for Padmé to sit beside her, and Padmé obeyed even though she knew her sister was about to say any number of things that would make her cringe. “Forgive me for being the meddling older sister, but I don’t get the chance very much. You’re older than I am, in most ways. You know that.”
“I didn’t realize you felt that way,” Padmé said, surprised.
Sola laughed shortly. “Let’s just say I couldn’t have become queen of Naboo at age fourteen. Honestly Padmé, I look up to you.”
Padmé was flattered and embarrassed; she couldn’t think of any reply.
“But I think I found one place where I’m actually your better,” Sola went on, fingering the delicate golden chain around her neck that she had donned on her wedding day. “So I'm going to offer a bit of sisterly advice. Follow it or don’t, but at least trust that I know what I’m talking about.”
“Sola...” Padmé looked at her sister’s serious face and gave up trying to protest. “All right. What is it?”
“You’re not going to find the love of your life in the Senate,” she said bluntly. “And you’re not going to raise a family on Coruscant. This,” and she spread out her hand to indicate their home, the beautiful architecture outside, perhaps the entire planet, “is the place for family.”
“Then I’ll be sure to come back to Naboo when I’m ready to be married,” Padmé laughed. Sola, however, was serious.
“You’ve managed to get through your two terms in Theed without too much damage, though I could argue you’ve had a bit of emotional crippling.” Padmé's eyes widened but she said nothing. “It’ll be worse in the Senate. Politics make for a cold, harsh world. I don’t want you to be lost in it.”
Padmé hesitated, then answered, “I won’t. Thank you, Sola.”
Sola smiled a bit shakily. “I’ll miss you.”
They hugged each other. Then Sola stood up and said, “I’ll let you finish packing.”
Padmé nodded and turned back to her suitcases as Sola left. Her sister had set a whole new string of thoughts moving through her mind. She realized that at the core of all her worries, loneliness was that she feared. In the Senate, surrounded by thousands, she would be utterly alone.
It was reaching out to others that had saved her during the War. Remembering what had encouraged her to do that, Padmé went to her dresser and pulled out the box that she kept her jewelry in. She opened the lid and was greeted with glaring gold and silver, cold shining gems and metals. She hadn’t lost it, had she? No. At the bottom rested an unassuming, hand-carved snippet made of relatively common material. But as Padmé picked it up, its small weight in her palm comforted her, even eased the longing that she had hardly dared to acknowledge until her sister brought it up.
She hadn’t lost the snippet, and she hadn’t lost the part of herself that would be able to love. Someday, her longing would be stilled.
---
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Date: 2006-12-12 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-12 02:54 pm (UTC)