( act one ⎯ queen of peace )
the phantom menace ✶ 32 BBY ✶ 5495 Era IV

The silence between the marble walls and pillars of the great hall was almost suffocating. She could almost feel her mother's imaginary gaze on her, materializing in rainbow rays of sunlight reflecting on each of the her features (piercing her soul, judging her fear, looking down on her uncertainty) as she looked up towards the Late Queen's stained glass portrait on the large window between her grandmother's and the blank space where, some day, hers would be.

The tail of her long violet dress (classically adorned by the yshtari emblem: A sun with ten points ⏤ one for each Celestial God ⏤ laced by golden threads) slid over the floor behind her. The jewelry, the several layers of fabric and the complicated hairstyle in which her long caramel hair had been pinned, all felt unusually heavy; But burdensome above all was the silver and pearl tiara that sat atop her head, neatly tied between the strands of hair that formed her many braids.

Solaria gave in to the weight and let her head fall down, surrendering to her feelings of failure and defeat: Agreeing with the crystalline and colorful image of her late mother and giving reason to the Maoran.

Ever since the dawn of Era One, Kas Attara had been a pillar for maintaining the greatness of the Thirteen Kingdoms ⏤ providing the guidance their homeworld could never provide anymore ⏤ but it hadn't been until Atheia I inherited the crown that she assured all allied lands the freedom to wander freely from Daltarion to Kryll and anywhere beyond. She had managed to shatter the walls of the invisible barriers that the founders had molded around the Eight Olympian Systems to avoid outsiders from stepping on their holy lands for millennia; There was none who dared confront them on the outside, but — seeing as they were on the verge of yet another civil war, barely ten years after the end of the last one — their sibling planets did not seem to share that same sentiment.

For Zeisan, watching her sister staring at the window as the invasion began ⏤ so sad, so serious ⏤ was an indicator of the true graveness of the situation they had at hand. Evidently greater than what Arwen had affirmed it was.

(The qualities that had always distinguished Solaria from among her five siblings were her restless joy and lively high-spirit ⏤ even as a girl, she had been known to be the most beautiful out of the Queen's five daughters. Dukes and Counts would put their sons to battle for her hand in a competition she was nescient to; Lords would feed her vanity with gifts, dancing attendance on her all her life ⏤ as did knights and commoners, Princes and Kings all throughout the galaxy.

She was always the center of attention, the soul of the party, the spotlight's favorite star, but in that very moment, a scared girl who could no longer rely on her mother for wisdom and comfort was everything that Zeisan could see on the young, seventh Queen Solaria of House Selaehra as she silently admired the scene from the foot of the steps behind the base and shaft of one of the Great Hall's pale-pink pillars while debating the appropriate moment to come out of her unsubtle hiding spot.)

The way everyone around refused to answer her questions was beyond frustrating. Initially, she had assumed that those around her were only seeking to prevent her from worrying about problems that were not hers to fix, but the consequences of whatever conflict had already began to show repercussions directly on her family and on her planet ⏤ she knew hers was not the only family affected by the present conflict and she looked to help around as much as she could, but she was quickly turned down and dismissed.

(The most frustrating conversation had been the one where Lady Barhante felt entitled to interrupt ⏤ where she took the chance to remind her that, like every precious jewel, she was meant to be seen and not heard.

She could not grasp the reasons why her brother was allowed to help and not her.)

She had tried to ask her siblings when her attempts to gain any kind of information from the adults around her resulted unfruitful: The last time she had spoken to Arwen in person had been the day after their mother's funeral two weeks prior, when she told her to mind her own business, and she rarely ever answered her calls in good will. Adnéat had been too busy running around since all the commotion had started, so she gave up after her second attempt ⏤ when he sternly advised her not to go through with her plans to wander away from the Citadel and into the city ⏤ and she had been hesitant to ask Sulan at all. Not because she'd dismiss her, but because she knew she wouldn't give her a logical answer.

("The advent of the shadow nears as threads of fealty snap." She had told her ⏤ and dared wonder why people thought of her as odd.)

So the only option left at her disposal was Solaria herself.

She was nervous about approaching her since the two had never been particularly close, Solaria's vanity could only be described as a ruthless fire; She had always been too focused on herself and her studies to consider Zeisan a relevant part of her life (her words towards her were usually embroidered with mockery, and her good humor seemed to hang from a thin invisible string only the younger seemed to own the scissors to cut. She made the effort to at least be cordial most of the time, but she was clear when she reminded her they were sisters and not friends). Asking a question that she would likely consider a stupid one was giving her the chance to laugh in her face.

But Zeisan was willing to give her sister the benefit of the doubt this time.

Standing right beside her, R2-D2 asked the young princess whether or not she was planning on approaching her sister in a series of beeps, interrupting Solaria's peaceful silence. With her finger on her lips, Zeisan shushed at the droid almost immediately in hopes the Queen hadn't listened, maybe she would find the courage to speak to her later.

Almost as soon as he started to walk away from the pillar, Solaria's voice made her freeze on her spot. "Audché dravȳ ya."

R2 followed Zeisan's steps closely as she turned back around and neared the windows to properly face her sister before bowing deeply. "Os Mahya."

"Aodorȳ," The young queen greeted, turning on her heels to face the princess.

"I apologize, Your Majesty, I did not mean to intrude." Zeisan excused, nervousness peeking through her voice as she picked her words carefully. She held her fingers to make her rings spin in anxiety while she hesitated to continue: She hoped she hadn't snipped the thread.

"What is on offer?" Solaria asked monotonously, her gestures firm and somewhat harsh. Zeisan assumed she did, in fact, resent the interruption.

"Papá asked me to come find you." She fibbed.

Behind her, R2 beeped in protest as he called her out ⏤ Zeisan turned to give him a quick glance and thanked the gods her sister could not understand binary.

The Queen sighed and began to walk away from her mother's stained glass window. "Of course," she smiled, oddly warm. "May I?" Solaria extended her arm towards her sister as she finished approaching. Zeisan grinned and quickly intertwined their sleeves ⏤ velvet red and violet ⏤ before she dared regret it.

Her elder sister began to guide her towards the arch that marked the beginning of one of the hallways and the end of the room they were in ⏤ the arches were carved in lots of complicated patterns, their golden fascia marked the point at which the ceiling began to arch, alongside the small statues against the walls, to form the glass domes that allowed every passerby a view towards the lilac sky from the inside of the Argyum, ⏤ Zeisan looked up to peek out one of the ceiling's glass domes and then she turned to one of the hall's blank windows as they passed.

"Are those the Maoran?" she inquired. "What is their business here?" Zeisan's attempt to conceal the true intentions of her interruption had not gone unnoticed by Solaria. Still, she made no protest over her query as she contemplated the answer she would give.

"You may not worry about such matters," Said Solaria, almost as if it was an order. "Everything will soon be set right, sister."

Her discontent over the answer was reflected in her eyes as she gave her sister the reason with a subtle nod before turning her gaze down to the white cotton cloth that hid her feet ⏤ the only part of her skirt that was not covered by the thick red fabrics that embraced the rest of her body. Her rings kept rolling between the fingers of her left hand as they wandered down the hall.

The Queen opened her mouth to continue before frowning when her sister's hair caught her eye. "Who fixed your hair?" She asked. The disgust and mockery whistling through her words something Zeisan had long learned to identify.

The Princess rested her right hand over her crown of braids. "Sulan." She replied hesitantly.

"That girl." Solaria exhaled sharply. "Is there anything she can do right?" She halted, breaking the bond that tangled their arms.. The sudden stop would've made Zeisan fall on her knees hadn't Solaria taken her by the shoulders, turning her sister sharply

Somewhat startled, Zeisan hesitantly chuckled at the ironic question before Solaria began undoing the braid that fell behind the right side of her head; Her nails scrapping the glittering scarlet band that went across her chest and over her shoulders as her pearl earrings swinged over the force in which Solaria undid and remade her twin braids.

(Like Elarion and Isonoé ⏤ Solaria and Sulan were each other's antithesis. The Queen's copper curls were almost the opposite to her twin's silver locks ⏤ the golden radiant sun and the pale bright moon.

Of two sisters one is always the watcher and one the dancer; One focused too much on her dreams of storms while the other was too immersed in her own present to give thought to her counter face's fears of the future; Embodiments of bliss and gloom.)

The first time the hands of a stranger braided her hair had been for Atheia Selaehra R'yvnia's funeral.

All ten years of her life, her mother had been the only one to braid her hair, she would style it in the morning and undo her work every night before sending them to bed; It was one of the things Atheia loved most about having daughters, even if Arwen and Solaria had grown tired of her pampering. But she had left before Zeisan could outgrow her need for her.

(She breathes in and out. She opens her eyes and she's in the palace's garden, picking flowers for her mother to place in her hair.)

"The Maoran will leave our lands shortly if we follow mamá's ways, I assure you." The Queen guaranteed. Zeisan could notice the uncertainty sneaking through her smile even without facing her, but she still nodded in agreement.

Zeisan knew her sister was no idiot; She had been her mother's heir since the day of her birth and she had been properly prepared to sit in the throne and wear the crown. She trusted her as much as she could, but she wasn't giving up on her quest for answers that easily.

"There you go, Ievschra." Solaria grinned as she turned her sister back around. Zeisan returned the gesture, a buoyant beam over her sister's uncharacteristic kindness, and the first time she referred to her as a beauty.

     She held the now tightened, perfected braids that hang from her updo almost as if she were scared they would vanish, no more than a fragment of a dream. Even if her sister's hands would never be as gentle as their mother's once were, the fact that she tried ⏤ much more than what she ever did ⏤ was enough to make Zeisan's heart feel warm again.

✴︎

wc: 2115

🌥️ so,, slight angst. it is going to get worse 😌

🌥️ pretty much all dialogue in this chapter is spoken in linarī, but i figured writing full conversations in a made up language would be pretty confusing so i'll likely only be using it for short convos and then disclosing it over here!

the attaran common tongue is called arusian which i haven't actually began to come up with 😭 i'm seriously considering having arusian just be spanish cause if english can be the official galactic tongue then i can have them speak spanish in my made up planet idc

🌥️ i changed the plot of this chapter way too many times omg but anyway, i hope you like it!

✴︎

translations:

"Audché dravȳ ya." : I heard you already.
"Os Mahyá." : Your majesty.
"Aodorȳ." : Sister.
"Ievschra." : Beautiful.