A Small Thing, Part 3
Aug. 17th, 2008 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrilSo I've kind of been setting the stage here. These first three parts are low on plot, heavy on fluff. The next one will enter the Episode I era, when plottiness will abound. :)
Before her training had begun in earnest, Padmé used to think she knew what it meant to be exhausted. Now, well on her way to attaining the governorship of Theed, she had become aware of ways that she could reach whole new levels of exhaustion. During the busiest days of her campaign, she had no memory of ever sleeping, except when her eyes flickered shut in the middle of reading particularly dull news reports, only to fly open again when one of her advisors nudged her.
She wouldn't have come out of the ordeal with any sanity at all, if not for her advisors. They had the advantage of age and wisdom, without the arrogance or condescension that usually accompanied such advantages. They respected her idealism, her energy and new ideas, and were able to guide her through the treacherous, unfamiliar waters of campaigning without forfeiting any of those traits. If she went on to attain the seat of queen – which was her ultimate goal, though she hadn't confided it to anyone yet – they would certainly be coming with her into the palace. Their advice was invaluable.
Padmé was having difficulty taking their advice at the moment.
They had unanimously insisted that she get some rest. And they did have a point. She had done everything in her power to encourage the people of Theed to grant her the appointment as governor; they would be deciding tomorrow. There was nothing left to do but wait.
She could wait, but she couldn't rest. She had lain on her cot in a futile attempt to nap. When she closed her eyes, all she could see were numbers. Approval ratings, the results of every poll. All generally in her favor, but that didn't soothe her irrational anxieties. After tossing fitfully, she got up in disgust.
When she was a little girl, she had always found comfort in the quiet sounds of Lake Country – birdsong, softly rushing waters. But the fountains in Theed weren't close enough to her quarters to be heard, and the birds were all sleeping. Lucky birds.
She cast her mind back to her last visit home, shortly before beginning her campaign. It was a pleasant break, though brief. Mom and Dad didn't seem particularly surprised by her intent to achieve the governorship; they had long been resigned to her impassioned political activism. Sola hadn't said much about her ambitions; she was too busy teasing Padmé about something else entirely. For she had made the mistake of confiding in her older sister about a certain boy she had met while in the Youth Legislature.
“Paulo and Padmé,” Sola had teased in a singsong voice. “So you finally pulled your nose out of political tracts long enough to notice a boy.”
“It was nothing,” Padmé said, while her face went a flaming red. “He said I had pretty eyes, and kissed me. Three weeks later, he left to join the Artisan's Guild.”
Sola put a hand to her forehead. “Ah, tragic love!”
Padmé scowled. “Stop it. I didn't make fun of you when you told me about your first kiss.”
But her sister just grinned. “I'm older than you. It's my sisterly prerogative.”
After that Padmé didn't dare admit what she had been really thinking about the kiss: it was a bit of a disappointment. Her heart had quickened its beat, and her lips tingled a little, but then....nothing. Just an awkward smile at Paulo, and the feeling that something had definitely been missing. Well, it wasn't as if she had thought he was her true love, was it?
This was just distracting her further. Padmé sighed and went to the door of her quarters. Maybe a walk would calm her down enough so she could finally settle down to sleep.
At night, the streets of Theed had a dark kind of beauty about them. In its curving, delicate shadows there was a soothing quality, much like taking a peaceful breath or hearing a lullaby. Padmé could feel her tension easing as she made her solitary way across the plaza, the moonlight bathing her in cool silver. That was more like it.
She loved Theed; she had loved it from the first moment she set her eyes upon it. It was that love, which she openly professed during her campaign, that had won over its inhabitants. Hopefully won them over...
Padmé told herself, sternly, not to let her thoughts wander that direction again. Keep that relaxed, calm feeling. She didn't find it very often; it was important to hold onto it while she had it. Before her visit home, when was the last time she had found it? The answer came to her with a startle. At the Skywalkers' home. With a guilty twinge she recollected just how long it had been since that dinner, though she had always intended to see them more often. She liked their company; she really did. Shmi was warm and gentle, surprisingly so for someone who had lived a slave's life for so long. Ani had an uncanny ability to make her smile, without even doing anything special. If she had had time to spare, she would have spent more of it at their home. Maybe she should have made time.
Hardly thinking of it, Padmé's steps began leading her toward the section of Theed where they lived. Foolish, in the middle of the night, but she kept walking that direction nonetheless. When she arrived at their home, she stopped and stared.
Anakin was sitting at the window, wide awake.
“Hello,” he said mildly. “I thought you might be up.”
This might not have been too extraordinary, if they lived next door to each other, and corresponded on a regular basis. But it had been a year since they last met, and that had only been their second meeting. Padmé shook her head and came to the window, leaning against its sill.
“How would you think that?” she wondered.
“Because of the decision tomorrow. About the governorship.”
Padmé raised her eyebrows. “I didn't think you followed politics, Ani.”
“I started doing it last year,” he said. “Since it was important to you.”
“Hm.” She didn't know how to respond to that. “So you knew I'd be wandering the streets in the dark of night?” she said finally.
Anakin shrugged. “It felt like something you'd be doing. You're nervous. I'd be nervous too.”
He was so young, and so serious, that Padmé was tempted to laugh, but she was impressed as well. “I am nervous,” she said candidly. She could admit it to him, if no one else. “I've worked so hard for this. If I ever want to make a real difference, this is the only way I can get started.”
“The only way?” Anakin's forehead crinkled. “But lots of people do good things, and they're not all the governor.”
“That's true.” Her rationale had been skewered by a boy of seven. Padmé had to smile. “But it's the way I'd like to do it.” Talking about her nervousness made it dissipate somehow. “Anyway, it'll all come out tomorrow, for better or worse. Now tell me about yourself, Ani. How is pilot school?”
His face transformed; he was delighted. “I love it! I was flying simulators all last year, which was a little boring...but we just started flying real speeders a few weeks ago. It's not as exciting as podracing, but once I've graduated to ships, it won't be long before I'm flying in space!”
Padmé nodded and grinned as he chattered on about the speed capabilities of the latest craft he had mastered, until he mentioned something about fixing a broken speeder with spare parts, and she remembered something with another guilty twinge.
“Ani, I'm so sorry,” she broke in. “I never found out about the junkyards, for the droid you were building – I always intended to but I've been so busy –”
“Oh.” He grinned. “Don't worry about that. The pilot school has a great big junkyard out back. I've found most of what I need for the droid; he's almost done. I probably would have finished him sooner if I didn't have so much to do at school.”
“I'm still sorry,” Padmé said, really meaning it. “I should have paid you another visit, you and your mother. It's been too long.”
“Well, you're visiting me now,” he said cheerfully. “But you should probably go home and go to sleep. You'll have a lot to do tomorrow when you win.”
Padmé laughed ruefully. “If I win, Ani. If.”
“You'll win,” he said, and somehow, when she looked at his eyes, wise beyond his years, she believed him.
She said good-bye, went home, and slept blissfully through till morning.
Before her training had begun in earnest, Padmé used to think she knew what it meant to be exhausted. Now, well on her way to attaining the governorship of Theed, she had become aware of ways that she could reach whole new levels of exhaustion. During the busiest days of her campaign, she had no memory of ever sleeping, except when her eyes flickered shut in the middle of reading particularly dull news reports, only to fly open again when one of her advisors nudged her.
She wouldn't have come out of the ordeal with any sanity at all, if not for her advisors. They had the advantage of age and wisdom, without the arrogance or condescension that usually accompanied such advantages. They respected her idealism, her energy and new ideas, and were able to guide her through the treacherous, unfamiliar waters of campaigning without forfeiting any of those traits. If she went on to attain the seat of queen – which was her ultimate goal, though she hadn't confided it to anyone yet – they would certainly be coming with her into the palace. Their advice was invaluable.
Padmé was having difficulty taking their advice at the moment.
They had unanimously insisted that she get some rest. And they did have a point. She had done everything in her power to encourage the people of Theed to grant her the appointment as governor; they would be deciding tomorrow. There was nothing left to do but wait.
She could wait, but she couldn't rest. She had lain on her cot in a futile attempt to nap. When she closed her eyes, all she could see were numbers. Approval ratings, the results of every poll. All generally in her favor, but that didn't soothe her irrational anxieties. After tossing fitfully, she got up in disgust.
When she was a little girl, she had always found comfort in the quiet sounds of Lake Country – birdsong, softly rushing waters. But the fountains in Theed weren't close enough to her quarters to be heard, and the birds were all sleeping. Lucky birds.
She cast her mind back to her last visit home, shortly before beginning her campaign. It was a pleasant break, though brief. Mom and Dad didn't seem particularly surprised by her intent to achieve the governorship; they had long been resigned to her impassioned political activism. Sola hadn't said much about her ambitions; she was too busy teasing Padmé about something else entirely. For she had made the mistake of confiding in her older sister about a certain boy she had met while in the Youth Legislature.
“Paulo and Padmé,” Sola had teased in a singsong voice. “So you finally pulled your nose out of political tracts long enough to notice a boy.”
“It was nothing,” Padmé said, while her face went a flaming red. “He said I had pretty eyes, and kissed me. Three weeks later, he left to join the Artisan's Guild.”
Sola put a hand to her forehead. “Ah, tragic love!”
Padmé scowled. “Stop it. I didn't make fun of you when you told me about your first kiss.”
But her sister just grinned. “I'm older than you. It's my sisterly prerogative.”
After that Padmé didn't dare admit what she had been really thinking about the kiss: it was a bit of a disappointment. Her heart had quickened its beat, and her lips tingled a little, but then....nothing. Just an awkward smile at Paulo, and the feeling that something had definitely been missing. Well, it wasn't as if she had thought he was her true love, was it?
This was just distracting her further. Padmé sighed and went to the door of her quarters. Maybe a walk would calm her down enough so she could finally settle down to sleep.
At night, the streets of Theed had a dark kind of beauty about them. In its curving, delicate shadows there was a soothing quality, much like taking a peaceful breath or hearing a lullaby. Padmé could feel her tension easing as she made her solitary way across the plaza, the moonlight bathing her in cool silver. That was more like it.
She loved Theed; she had loved it from the first moment she set her eyes upon it. It was that love, which she openly professed during her campaign, that had won over its inhabitants. Hopefully won them over...
Padmé told herself, sternly, not to let her thoughts wander that direction again. Keep that relaxed, calm feeling. She didn't find it very often; it was important to hold onto it while she had it. Before her visit home, when was the last time she had found it? The answer came to her with a startle. At the Skywalkers' home. With a guilty twinge she recollected just how long it had been since that dinner, though she had always intended to see them more often. She liked their company; she really did. Shmi was warm and gentle, surprisingly so for someone who had lived a slave's life for so long. Ani had an uncanny ability to make her smile, without even doing anything special. If she had had time to spare, she would have spent more of it at their home. Maybe she should have made time.
Hardly thinking of it, Padmé's steps began leading her toward the section of Theed where they lived. Foolish, in the middle of the night, but she kept walking that direction nonetheless. When she arrived at their home, she stopped and stared.
Anakin was sitting at the window, wide awake.
“Hello,” he said mildly. “I thought you might be up.”
This might not have been too extraordinary, if they lived next door to each other, and corresponded on a regular basis. But it had been a year since they last met, and that had only been their second meeting. Padmé shook her head and came to the window, leaning against its sill.
“How would you think that?” she wondered.
“Because of the decision tomorrow. About the governorship.”
Padmé raised her eyebrows. “I didn't think you followed politics, Ani.”
“I started doing it last year,” he said. “Since it was important to you.”
“Hm.” She didn't know how to respond to that. “So you knew I'd be wandering the streets in the dark of night?” she said finally.
Anakin shrugged. “It felt like something you'd be doing. You're nervous. I'd be nervous too.”
He was so young, and so serious, that Padmé was tempted to laugh, but she was impressed as well. “I am nervous,” she said candidly. She could admit it to him, if no one else. “I've worked so hard for this. If I ever want to make a real difference, this is the only way I can get started.”
“The only way?” Anakin's forehead crinkled. “But lots of people do good things, and they're not all the governor.”
“That's true.” Her rationale had been skewered by a boy of seven. Padmé had to smile. “But it's the way I'd like to do it.” Talking about her nervousness made it dissipate somehow. “Anyway, it'll all come out tomorrow, for better or worse. Now tell me about yourself, Ani. How is pilot school?”
His face transformed; he was delighted. “I love it! I was flying simulators all last year, which was a little boring...but we just started flying real speeders a few weeks ago. It's not as exciting as podracing, but once I've graduated to ships, it won't be long before I'm flying in space!”
Padmé nodded and grinned as he chattered on about the speed capabilities of the latest craft he had mastered, until he mentioned something about fixing a broken speeder with spare parts, and she remembered something with another guilty twinge.
“Ani, I'm so sorry,” she broke in. “I never found out about the junkyards, for the droid you were building – I always intended to but I've been so busy –”
“Oh.” He grinned. “Don't worry about that. The pilot school has a great big junkyard out back. I've found most of what I need for the droid; he's almost done. I probably would have finished him sooner if I didn't have so much to do at school.”
“I'm still sorry,” Padmé said, really meaning it. “I should have paid you another visit, you and your mother. It's been too long.”
“Well, you're visiting me now,” he said cheerfully. “But you should probably go home and go to sleep. You'll have a lot to do tomorrow when you win.”
Padmé laughed ruefully. “If I win, Ani. If.”
“You'll win,” he said, and somehow, when she looked at his eyes, wise beyond his years, she believed him.
She said good-bye, went home, and slept blissfully through till morning.
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Date: 2008-08-18 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-18 01:17 pm (UTC)