Hello all!

Those of you on tumblr may remember me brainstorming this fic. I have finally gotten around to posting it. After much debate (and increasing fic length) I have decided to post it as a multi-chapter fic instead of a one shot.

Basically this is an AU in which all of Padmé's handmaidens - past and present - form a rebel cell. They become known as the Naboo Queens because of the fact that they all wear the ceremonial makeup when they go on missions.

This story is inspired by a sw headcanon posted on nabooqueen's tumblr.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, but this story is mine.


Ashes


Sabé stood quietly by the window and gazing out at Theed. The city was solemn and silent. Grieving. Just like she was. But the city was grieving a figure, a symbol. Sabé was grieving all of that and more. She was grieving a friend, a sister, a Queen.

Padmé Amidala was dead.

And that knowledge made Sabé ache.

This war had taken so much from them. So much. And now it had taken a light that made the universe shine. So many of those lights had been put out in the last few days. The galaxy was becoming a darker place and no one seemed to notice. In fact they seemed pleased. She'd seen what had happened at Senate. Had been sitting there at Padmé's shoulder when Republic changed to Emipre and the people had cheered. Cheered at the death of thousands of Jedi. People who had been fighting and dying for them while they sat safe in their offices and twiddled their thumbs. They applauded as the galaxy burned to ashes around them – gave their new Emperor a standing ovation.

Padmé had been furious and horrified.

Two days later, she was dead.

Her funeral procession had been three days ago. She was beautiful, even in death. Sabé remembered thinking that she looked just as she always did, as if she were only sleeping, as she wove flowers into her Queen's hair. She had wrapped the japor snippet necklace Anakin had gifted his wife around cold fingers, clasping those hands over her breast. And then Sabé mourned anew. Because her Queen's stomach was still swollen with child. It was not one life that was lost this day, but two.

The city was in mourning. The city, however, was not having doubts.

Sabé was.

She had not been with Padmé at the moment of her death. She was not witness to it. But she was their when the Emperor – a thought that still sends a chill down her spine – had released a statement about what happened. Killed by Jedi renegades.

A woman who had close ties to the Order since the Blockade Crisis thirteen years ago. A woman who had worked closely with the Jedi for the last three years – for the entirety of the war. A woman who had secretly married a Jedi. Killed by them in cold blood.

She did not believe it.

"We left her."

Sabé turned at the voice, finding Ellé staring back at her. Moteé sat next to her, their hands clasped. Both were pale, eyes red and swollen from hours of grief.

"We left her," Ellé repeated, her voice breaking.

Dormé reached out and wrapped an arm around the younger woman, her own face lined with the same pain the laced Ellé's voice.

Sabé moved away from the window then, facing the other women in the room. Women she had known and worked with for years. They had lived together, trained together, bled together. They were the handmaidens of one Padmé Naberrie Amidala, past and present. They had come together to mourn the woman they all considered to be their Queen even though it had been years since she had given up the title. Padmé had brought light back to their world as Queen and had continued to do so as senator. As far as everyone in this room was considered, Queen was a title that would always belong to Padmé.

"We did," Sabé said softly, her heart aching at the admission, "But we know there was nothing that could have stopped her."

Eirtaé shook her head. "We would never have been able to stop her, whatever it was she was doing. But we should have gone with her."

Sabé and Eirtaé shared a look. They had been with Padmé the longest. They were the ones that decided to remain with her when she became a senator while the others stayed on Naboo. They had known their Queen better than anyone. And they both knew exactly what Padmé would be thinking right now.

"There is no time for 'should haves'," Sabé said calmly as Eirtaé moved to stand beside her, "Our Queen is dead. And everything she loved has died with her."

Dormé, Moteé and Hollé pressed their lips together, faces twisted up in distaste. They had been there to listen to the birth of the Empire.

"It's true then?" Yané asked softly, brow pinched.

Umé nodded. "The Republic is dead. The Jedi have been slaughtered."

"And not two days later, Padmé is dead," Miré added, eyes narrowed, "She would never have approved."

"No she wouldn't," Dormé agreed, "But I doubt that everything is as it seems."

"Do they honestly expect people to believe that the Jedi are the ones responsible for her death?" Rabé asked skeptically.

"To be honest, I don't think anyone cares enough to question it." Hollé answered.

"Or if they do, fear keeps them from speaking up," Moteé added.

Ellé shook her head. "I don't understand. How can anyone be happy about what has become of the Jedi? Of the Republic?"

"Fear," Sabé said, her soft voice cutting through the room, "This entire war has been about fear mongering. The more fear there was, the more power was handed over to the Chancellor. Enough fear and they made him Emperor. Enough fear and they applauded the slaughter of thousands."

They sat in silence for a long moment. None of them could understand it. How such a radical change could happen so quickly, so rapidly, and with so little resistance.

Saché broke the silence. One of their youngest who was soft spoken and kind and loathed any form of violence but was quick to defend her Queen with her life.

"What do we do?" she asked, looking directly at Sabé.

Sabé who was always their Queen's double. Sabé who was her shield and her sword, advisor and friend.

She looked to Eirtaé, the woman who had served their Queen just as long as she and lived through this war with her. The blond met her eyes and gave her a firm nod.

"We," Sabé started slowly, looking each woman in the eye, "are going to enact our Queen's will. Freedom and justice will not die with her. For now, they will sleep and when the time comes we will ensure that they rise from the ashes."

There were nods and murmurs of agreement around the room.

It was Fé who stood, spine straight and chin raised, eyes alight with fire. It was Fé who spoke their promise.

"Long live the Queen."


Thoughts? Feelings? Concerns? Let me know!

Until next time,

~Elri