Padmé took a breath.With infinite tenderness, she cupped her husband's face, her fingertips tracing the warmth of his skin.

"That, Ani," she whispered, emotion threading through her voice, "would be the greatest gift of all. We could go to Naboo, give them a room by the gardens—just as we dreamed."

She wraps her arms around herself. At her husband's voice, she turns, surprise crossing her features.

"Ani..." she begins, voice soft. "Are you sure? You've dedicated years to your training. I'd give anything for Luke and Leia to have a different life, but... I don't want you to regret this."

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were nothing more than a 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙'𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙮. With a sneer, he slams his weight against the door of the cell, the sound reverberating down the endless corridors.

"You know," he muses darkly, "now that I think about it… no one ever said you had to be in 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 when we captured you."

"Who paid you!?" she demands, half-rising from where she fell. "Tell me. Let me go, and there will be no repercussions for this. Keep me here, and you will bear the weight of your actions."

The mercenary throws his head back and laughs—a deep, cruel sound, as if her words

A sudden roar shatters the stillness. Before she can react, her jailer emerges from the very shadows he had vanished into. The next thing she knows, she is falling—stumbling backward.

"I told you to stay silent!"

He lunges toward the bars, blaster raised, fury darkening his features.

Fingers searching blindly, she reaches for the bars, testing the lock with careful precision. Every trick she knows, she has already tried, and every one has failed.

A faint metallic click breaks the silence. A second. A third. 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. She really misses R2—it would have been much easier with him.

The warning is clear. And yet, she does not yield, her gaze following him.

𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀. Long enough to wonder if rescue will ever come, but Padmé Amidala is not one to surrender to despair. Once alone, she moves quickly, slipping off the cuffs she had managed to loosen on her first day of captivity.

𝙃𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙣. She has nothing but her voice and the weight of 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴. She lifts her chin as he steps away, the heavy shuffle of his boots fading into the darkness.

"I don't want to hear another word about your damn Republic."

"Tell me who paid you for this. Stop it now and return my ship, or the Repub—"

A blaster hums as it strikes the wall. Silence falls, stretching between them like a drawn wire. The Senator and the mercenary lock eyes, no words passing between them.

Even after days in confinement, she refuses to be silent. With what little strength remains, she hurls sharp-edged words at her captors, invoking the Galactic Rights she holds as a citizen of the Republic. It is useless, of course, but that does not stop her.

Somewhere in the forgotten reaches of the Outer Rim, the Senator lies captive, confined to a small, dim cell—far from any chance of calling for help. The mercenaries who intercepted her ship have made little effort to ensure her comfort.

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Warmth spreads through Padmé, something deep and steady, like the rising sun. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦. Emotion swells in her chest, and a small, unbidden smile finds its way to her lips. She exhales softly, nodding.

“In that case, we should prepare ourselves, Sabé. A long journey to #𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 awaits.”

“It has been an honor to have you by my side, Sabé.”
“The honor has been mine, my lady.”
“I will miss your company.”
“My lady?”
“The capital is so far from here.”
“That is why I will accompany you.” Sabé straightens, her voice firm. “Today and always, I will be your shadow, my lady.”

Her most loyal companion, the one to whom she has entrusted her life more times than she can count. The one who has never once hesitated. Padmé inhales, the weight of this parting is heavier than she expected.

So, when they take their leave after hearing of her decision, a quiet emptiness settles in her chest.

Only one remains.

The room is silent, save for the steady breath of the woman standing before her, chin raised, gaze unwavering—𝙎𝙖𝙗𝙚́.