The Lucky One ⋆ Anakin Skywalker

𝕻rologue

Princess Thalia Amra Ashtaroth had never been to a funeral. Her mother had died in childbirth and her father a few months prior; this is the first time Thalia had ever been confronted with death, up close. She stares at its face. Looks away.

Of all the people in her life, she never thought that her older sister, Aurae, would be the first to go. She raised her after her mother's death, with her husband Myriil, and had been everything Thalia could have ever asked of her. And now she was gone, and she wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Don't cry," Shadril, her niece, whispers in her ear. They perk up to the side. "They'll use it against you. Smile. This is your lucky day." Thalia had never asked who 'they' were. Shadril was always talking about 'them'.

She thinks her people are after her in some way. Always looking to do her harm. Thalia doesn't think so. She thinks that the Pelidians are tired of having a monarch that lies to them and hides any semblance that they could be humane too. She wears her tears with pride.

The funeral in itself had been short. It's the ceremonies that lasted, and lasted, and lasted. You're never as great a ruler as your burial is, and Aurae's lasted for weeks. Thalia thinks it's morbid. They kept Aurae's body on display, when her soul had already joined the Great Moon Goddess. She wasn't there anymore, and she didn't see the point. Thalia wants her funeral to be short and with a few people, she doesn't want the entire planet to be there. She'd like to spare them the pain.

She hadn't known what to expect. The whole planet was in motion, parties were thrown, the people were dressed in black while Myriil, Shadril and Thalia adorned the customary red. It clashed with her red hair, but suited Myriil and Shadril perfectly, both with dark black hair. She felt out of place the whole time. Pelidian funeral rites were made to celebrate the passing of the soul to the Moon, and the new Queen. Thalia didn't want to be celebrated on that day.

Shadril should have been the next Queen, as Aurae's eldest daughter; but with Shadril's war campaign against the Sun God's follower, she can't assume her role. Thalia is the only other Princess they have because of the war. The only Senator too. She's 19, and already has more responsibilities than anyone she's ever known.

Thalia's election at the Galactic Senate came as a surprise for just about everyone. She's young, inexperienced, but her people want her to represent them. She thinks it's because of the red markings that run from the top of each eye to the bottom of each cheek. She's meant to be a Love driven monarch, but she doesn't understand why that would convince them to vote for her.

Aurae had beautiful green markings; for peace. She had tried so hard to stall the war with the Sun God's followers, sending Shadril to negotiate, accepting outrageous terms to settle the war, but nothing worked. And now she has been killed, and Shadril is persuaded that one of them did it, and she won't let that slip.

The coronation was a week later. They honored the grieving period allowed to monarchs, and as soon as possible, declared her Queen of Pelides, and got on with it. It was done. If some still cried for their Queen, the others were busy celebrating the new one.

Thalia stood in front of the window of the palace, watching the snow-covered forest in the background, the main avenue where people came and went, lived and chatted and the only thing she could do was watch. Thalia was never supposed to be Queen. She had never wanted to be Queen in the first place. She loves her people – she does, more than anything – but she was never made for this. Aurae used to say that she was all emotions. Rulers had to be level-headed.

Myriil could see his niece slowly disappear before his eyes. He knew that she would make a wonderful Queen, because she wouldn't hesitate to take pieces of herself to please her people. He knows that there's nothing she wouldn't do for them, and that it was exactly what they saw in her. With the war, they wanted protection.

But he couldn't just stand there and do nothing.

"Your highness," he says softly, to break her out of her daze. She despises being called that, but it was custom. "May I speak with you?"

Thalia's face lights up when she sees her uncle. She's always loved him to bits; and he did too. He was a father when she had none, and she was his daughter the same that Shadril, Elen, Daviya and Neia were.

"Of course, Myriil!" She was never one for custom. "What is it?"

Myriil has that boyish grin that takes years off of his face. He's had this idea for weeks now – ever since Thalia had been voted as Senator. He had to find some way to make sure she would fulfill her role, and not let it kill her.

"Chancellor Palpatine and I came to an agreement earlier today," he starts, and she beckons for him to continue. "We agreed that I would take your place as Senator the first year as a Regent, while you learn from another Senator."

Thalia has the exact opposite reaction he expected. Instead, her gaze hardens, and her jaw sets. "Do you think I'm not good enough for the role?" she asks, as if to say, not you too.

Shadril is already watching over her like a vulture, spying on her every move to make sure she was perfect at her role. If Myriil was the same, Thalia was not going to like it.

"No," he immediately reassures her, hands falling on her shoulders. "Of course not. But I think you need time to adjust." She seems dubious. "And Senator Amidala could use the protection."

Her face softens. Her uncle knows exactly what to tell her to convince her. Thalia was never a Queen, she was a warrior. Always had been. She was top of her class, and her two Beskaar swords were engraved with her victories.

So she agrees. She knows to an extent that she's being sweet-talked into something, but she trusts Myriil for it to be in her best interest. Learning for a Senator, one almost as young as her, would do her good, she figures.

Queen Thalia Amra Ashtaroth left the planet, and would not come back.

Author's Note: Starting with a funeral to make sure everyone gets the tone <3333333