Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader imagines. Featuring different original female characters and their stories in various settings of the galaxy with the Chosen One, to the Dark Lord of the Sith. From the light to the dark side each fate will be a wild rid...
A little cold was hardly a call for being grounded. Thus in the time allotted she'd buried herself in rolls of fabrics, crafting a new dress for her mistress's return to Coruscant. Padmè loved ornate patterns that commemorated their home world, always pleased by Dormè's steady handiwork, a trait passed down from her mother before her in the line of the Odeniêl women. Always had she seen her mother hemming and patching clothes she'd ruined out in their fields as a Weaver. While her daughter braided the weeds into a circlets of wildflowers to bestow on her later...
Lately the Senator had been leaning towards more crushed velvet textures dyed in dark colors. A visible mourning in relation to the present of the Senate as planetary systems were brought under the hand of Separatist tyrants.
Already she was going over intricate patterns in her mind to lift the Senator's spirits. Emblems of the Nabooian flower with hanging vines reminiscent of the palace gardens Padmè yearned to replicate at her senatorial apartment on Coruscant. The light would refract off the silver threads like starlight with the subtlest movement she made.
The handmaiden just needed to finish the hem and then—
"Ah," she winced, the muscles in her neck having gone stiff from sitting in the same position for a prolonged period.
Normally this would not deter her, her body accustomed to sitting for prolonged periods of time in the Senate. But this sickness had put an ache in her bones that didn't easily abate. The crushed velvet dress felt peculiarly heavier than when she'd last worn it too.
With a light appetite as of late, it appeared she'd lost a few pounds.
Padmè would be most displeased if she heard of this. Dormè akin to a sister than a mere decoy as they'd acclimated together.
Perhaps she should put a meal together, recalling the seven blossom bread lifted fresh from the ovens an hour ago.
A Nabooian's favored.
The lake house cooks had bidded their farewells towards the drawing of evening to retire to their homes nestled in the mountainside's village.
Because the Lake Country was isolated from the rest of Varykino, this specific area could only be accessed by a boat or ship with special clearance. With new security that had taken up post around the parameters, had come restrictions.
They were not allowed to swim out to the islands as they often enjoyed in their pastime. Even though they were strong swimmers. Padmè had not been keen with the tighter measures, as she preferred a laxer atmosphere when it came to her vacational homefront. In light of recent events however, it was a necessary precaution.
Secretly, Dormè did not favor the extra layer of surveillance. But handmaidens did not outwardly display their displeasure as their training of propriety and etiquette took center precedence. Just as the mask they donned to mirror their beloved Senator in the line of duty, blending seamlessly together as decoys. Such an oath carried a weight that was not to be taken lightly. They'd sworn their lives and if ever caught in the line of fire, she would come above all else.
Always.
Of course, her disdain had little to do with the security set at the borders. Rather a certain cocky Jedi she'd long been acquainted with.
Concocted for whatever reason in that brain of his, he'd made it his life's mission to crack said mask.
"I can feel your judgmental eye from here, Jedi Skywalker."
"Tea hardly suffices as a meal, Dormè. Your strength wanes which will only cause your exhaustion to grow."
"I'll take into account your concern. Please do not fret over it, I know my limitations." If she turned her head just a fraction she'd see the moody Jedi leaning against the forged stone of the veranda. His tall unwavering stature ever presently attuned to his surroundings, a testament to his Jedi training. Arms crossed against a broad chest honed for battle. Face hidden in shadow.
Why couldn't it have been Jedi Kenobi's assignment here. The man had a calm character that was far more soothing than his brash Padawan. In the beginning Dormè had found the man's conduct amusing. Until she'd witnessed just how reckless the young Jedi could be.
Fortunately, Padmè had seen it before anything serious had developed. Politics and Jedi principals had overall, not meshed well. Especially as the war had raged leading them to the inevitable conclusion it was the idea rather than the actual relationship. Stemming from an infatuation that raptly fizzled.
Since, they'd been on civil terms. Although the distance was still visible. Especially after Padmè had started seeing other mature men from various planetary systems. Something she'd only confided to Dormè.
However, Anakin being force-sensitive had found out a few short months ago. Up until recently, he'd stayed in the Outer Rim raging war with the Separatists as the infamous General Skywalker alongside his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
This was of course, until he'd done something that caused Jedi Kenobi to ground him. Whatever he'd done, severe enough to send him on this short excursion to Naboo and Kenobi was undoubtedly orchestrating as a form of punishment. Confident it wouldn't reignite the flame even he'd long suspected between the Jedi and Senator. Which appeared to be the case thus far.
One could only hope.
She cleared her throat placing the dainty teacup back on the floral saucer, promptly lifting from the plush settee on the veranda overlooking the stars laced across the skies. A tranquil mirror reflected in the azure waters with the gentle undulations of the rich mountainsides. An ever present sweet fragrance carried on the winds.
Never would she tire of Naboo's ethereal beauty. "Thank you for your analysis Jedi Skywalker, if you are finished, I shall retire for the night."
She dabbed a silken handkerchief against her nose that had started to dribble, sniffling. She would come back for the bread once the Jedi made his patrolling rounds.
The plum dress trailed behind her soft steps as she swept into the room often chosen on these excursions, the ambiance mimicking a light and airy resplendence. Elegant and rich in architectural design with textured rugs. The adomed doors led out to a small balcony framed with hanging drapes of gossamer.
Dormè quick to change out of the heavy material for a light satin nightgown, looked to the opulent gown perched on a stand in the corner, stitched with silver pines through the elegant train that would drape from the bodice.
Yet to start on the bustle, she checked the chrono on the ivory nightstand.
Still no word from the Senator.Please be safe m'lady.
As another cough rasped from her lungs, she slipped into the gilded ivory bedsheets of the grand canopy centered, blowing her nose several times with a disgruntled huff.
She really was sick.
Best get some rest, she decided. She was no good to anyone if her health wasn't up to par.
A hand scraped through the long dark tresses that had slipped from her braid, unraveling the leather tie from the ends, leaving a fall of loose waves tumbling over one pillow. Finally, just as she'd begun to slip into the calm of sleep, an abrupt hard knock jolted her awake.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Dormè was not a fool, all too aware of just who stood on the opposite side.
The infamous Chosen One as he was proclaimed, Anakin Skywalker.
