PADME AMIDALA

After spending a far from restful night in the small alcove above her burial chamber with an old cape as a blanket, Padme awoke to the sounds of some sort of metal horn playing. She sat bolt upright, startled.

The song lasted for a few minutes, and in that time, she began to appreciate the melody. The horn was accompanied by a harp, flutes and strings in the background, the different sounds blending together created something quite beautiful.

Suddenly, she remembered where she had heard it before. It was the theme that had been written for her victory over the Trade Federation when they had invaded Naboo all those years ago. It had been deemed too serious and dramatic for the festival celebrating the union of the Gungan people and the Naboo, and had been dropped in favor of the other one that had actually been played. But she had been personally a little sad to see it go, because she could literally hear her name in it...

Padme...A-Amidala, Pa-adme Amidala...

As she drifted through the music's rich melody, impervious to anything else, she found herself humming along. Hm, hmmm, hmm, hm hm hm hm, hm, hm hm hm hmm, hm hm...hm hmmm.

Luckily, she had had the sense to take out a small recorder when she had heard the first strains of music and had saved the piece, so that she would be able to listen to it later. It was so soulful and expressive, and reminded her of some insanely beautiful and romantic love-story-gone-tragedy. It was, sadly, probably her own that she was thinking of. She could practically hear the beautiful, rich song in the background when she revisited her old memories of her refuge to Naboo with Anakin all those years ago.

"Anakin," Padme murmured, "from now on, that would-be piece will be known as 'Our Song'. Are we in agreement?"

She could almost hear what his reply would be, and see his facial expression. "No, my love, we're going to call it 'Padme's Theme'. It's almost worthy of your name."

She knew she wouldn't be able to win an argument with him, even if the voice was just a figment of her imagination, so she wasn't even going to try. "All right, fine, Ani. We'll call it Padme's Theme."

She could see the cheeky smile that he always had on his face when he won a debate with her. "I love you, Padme. You're my life and you always will be."

"I know, Anakin." Then she started to feel the beginnings of tears rolling down her cheeks. "Wherever you are, Ani, I will find you. And then we can be together. I know we can make it work. I love you!"

He looked down sadly. "I don't know if it's that simple, my love. But we can try. We will try. I will never stop fighting for you, for as long as I live. Never."

Then he disappeared, with the strains of her theme fading with it.

There was a moment of absolute quiet, as her tears soaked the stone beneath her. It had been a beautiful moment, so heart-wrenching and bittersweet and lovely. The Anakin illusion was going to be her companion, now that the real one was... out of her reach. For the moment, at least. She and Anakin would be together again, even if it were in their death.

Suddenly the sound of an amplified and emotionally charged voice cut through the air, slightly dampened by the walls of her tomb. "After that moment of silence in honor of the death of our beloved Senator and ex-Queen, please wait for the guards to escort you inside. In groups of up to fifteen, you will be permitted to pay your respects to Padme Amidala."

Padme scooted over to a small hole in the stonework she had found earlier. Peeping through, she was able to see the scale of the crowd. Her eyes widened. It was as if all of Naboo had come to grieve for her! But then again, she had been, as the man with the amplified voice had said, beloved and respected by her people.

She knew that the tour would take a while to reach her, so she climbed down from her hiding spot and made sure that there was nothing she had forgotten to do. She closed the lid on one of the trunks, the one with the little Anakin and Padme on it, and walked over to her mannequin decoy. All was in order there as well. It was time to go back into hiding.

As she pulled herself back up into the alcove, she began to hear people coming down the hallways. Their steps were quiet and slow. The mourners probably didn't want to disturb the sleep of the dead nobles and royalty, and because Padme was certain that they had all heard the legend of the First Queen of Naboo.

Her name was long forgotten, due to the fact that she had ruled almost three thousand and five hundred years before the present day, but it was said that she had been the wisest Queen to rule the Naboo. She had, unfortunately, been killed before her term was up by a rival politician's uprising against her. Some recounted that it had been a blaster wound, others that she had been stabbed in the side, but all said the same thing for her last words.

On her deathbed, the young Queen had said, with a commanding voice even though it didn't rise above a whisper, "I shall rise again. None of you, my friends and allies, will be there to see it, but when the time comes and our beautiful Naboo needs me once more, I shall rise again."

Some had always wanted the unknown Queen to rise again, especially in times of galactic or planetary unrest, but nothing ever happened. But still, they hoped. And the will of the Naboo, despite the hardships that had been thrust upon the over the years, was strong, and they would always have hope.

All had forgotten the location of her tomb, but Padme suddenly had the urge to find it. She didn't know what to do next, which frightened her. For once, the gears in Senator Padme Amidala's calculating and clever mind had stopped. She had never been deeply religious - and the past Queens were part of Naboo's faith - but somehow, she got the feeling that she needed guidance. Now more than ever.

She had made up her mind. Tonight, when everyone had left, she would go in search of the First Queen's tomb.

Padme spent most of the day sleeping. She had a feeling that she was going to be up all night looking, and it would be a good idea to get some rest while she could. Tomorrow was the last day her tomb would be open. And although the Naberrie family hadn't been to see her today, they would certainly come to pay their last respects tomorrow, and she wanted to be awake to see them. Even if she was dead to them, she still loved them very much.

It was also quite touching what the Naboo and the Gungans were leaving her. There were bouquets from admirers, with hundreds upon hundreds of flowers, most of them from the Southern Lake, the largest one on the planet, which was almost like a small inland sea, whose shores were famous for their flower cultures. Their sweet fragrance got through the cracks in the stone of her tomb, and made the inside small as beautiful as the corridor in which people had lovingly placed them.

Others had left portraits, or images of her with inspiring or saddening messages written underneath. Padme had read the ones that were inside her room (and there weren't too many of them, because the guards had begun to put the overflow in the hallway) and had almost cried a few times. In them, she could read that she was a role model, a humanitarian, and an icon for her people to rally behind to so many on paper. Then her Senator's instincts became apparent again, as she had the sudden desire to write them back. In the Senate, forgetting to reply to a call or message could have unstopped a flow of troubles, and it was still a reflex to try and avoid that.

Perhaps that was what she would do after tomorrow. She would write them all back. Padme could even picture how they would end: signed with simple, yet elegant 'Love, Padme'.

That evening, after the doors had been closed, she began to prepare a bag for her excursion that evening. She had already planned out her route. Having come here many times to pay her respects to the dead, she knew her way around quite well. She had even thought to put a small piece of wood in the frame of the heavy door to keep it from closing all the way, so that she would be able to get in and out.

She tied the strings of her small bag and slung it over her shoulders. Inside was a small holo-capturer to record information, a few first aid items, and a ration bar that one of the guards had dropped when they came inside. Although she was quite faint with hunger by now, she knew that she would have to keep going without nutriment. Just one more day and she could buy her food down in Theed, Naboo's capital, with the emergency money that she had stashed in the linings and secret pockets of some of her dresses.

"Gods, give me strength," Padme whispered, then paused. "Ani, give me strength."

Then she pushed the door open and walked out into the flowery hall.

*BTW, hope this makes up for the wait for this chapter, but there were complications involving my alotted computer time at home, some elusive story files and a confiscated USB key...*