LIGHT ANGEL

Darkness. It was the only reality that the Angel had ever experienced since her death. It was all that she could experience. She was dead, and the dark had been there to catch her when she fell. She both loved and hated it. She loved how it kept her so wonderfully safe and warm in its grasp, but hated how it wouldn’t let her go.

After such a long time, she had almost begun to forget what the freedom of life felt like. Time stood still, and she didn’t know how long she had been here. It could have been five minutes, or five million years. There was nothing to see, smell, touch, hear or feel. Nothing but black.

And that was when she heard it. Life, calling to her from very far away. She struggled to find it in the eternal dark, but saw nothing. It wasn’t there. Had it been an illusion? She desperately hoped not.

And then the Angel realized. The darkness that was holding her in, she was the one that had created it after her love’s demise. She had taken refuge in the darkness, naively hoping that she would be able to find him there, too. Then they would be together in some twisted way.

But it wouldn’t work. She was too close to the Light Side, too pure to be able to find him here. And now the Light was calling her back. It wanted her to live again, to find her love and give her a second chance.

She had no choice to accept the Light’s call. It would bring her back to her earthly body. Suddenly she was bombarded with her memories, forgotten in the darkness. She had denied them to try to find her love, but now they were returning to her.

What is my name? The Angel asked them, and was shown people talking to her in… Where was that? Oh, the Senate. That was it. There was a man, Bail Organa, who called her ‘Senator’, a Gungan who called her ‘milady’, a captain who called her ‘your Highness’, and two little girls who called her ‘aunt’.

No. These names were hers, but they weren’t her true one. It had to be somewhere…

There. A young man, in loose brown robes, who was standing in a gunship. He leaned out of the open blast door after a brown-haired girl wearing ripped white clothes. She recognized him. He was the one that she had looked for, the one that she had tried to find here. He yelled her name, and she saw the Light again.

“Padme!”

 PADME AMIDALA

The last thing Padme could remember was velvety darkness, then brilliant light. And then her eyes had snapped open.

She looked around, but some instinct told her not to move. She was in a room that had cave-like aspects to it, but was somber, in a way. And then she saw the people dressed in mourning garb walking around just outside of…well, whatever it was she was in.

“Mama, Papa, Aunt Padme blinked! I saw her! She opened her eyes and blinked!” yelled a child’s voice, and she heard – or rather, felt the vibrations of – footsteps running over to where she lay.

Suddenly she recognized the people just outside. They were her family! The person that had just yelled was her little niece, Pooja! But why would it matter if she blinked? Everyone blinked at some point, and no one really noticed.

“Pooja, don’t play games,” Padme’s sister, Sola, reprimanded softly, and her husband Darred nodded. Usually, she would have been sterner, but she seemed too sad and tired to launch into a scolding. “I know you miss her. We all do. But Aunt Padme isn’t coming back.”

“Not coming back? No, Mama, I swear, she just blinked!” Somehow she knew to shut her eyes and turn into a statue, just as they all walked over to the box she was in.

“You see, Pooja? She hasn’t moved. She’s…dead. There’s nothing we can do.”

Me, dead? No, that’s not possible! I’m right here! I don’t know what happened! Why are you all mourning for me and why am I here? Padme thought.

And then she remembered. Anakin… he had killed her. On Mustafar, when she had tried to convince him to run away with her. She remembered it all now. The Force-chocking, her giving birth to their children – she had been desperate to believe that those memories were false. That they were dreams she had had when she had been… dead.

“Ani…” she said aloud.

Ruwee, Padme’s father, looked around, then turned to his wife. “Did you say something, Jobal?” 

Padme gulped inwardly. She would have to be more careful. If she had any more slipups like that, then there was a risk of someone finding out that she was alive. And she didn’t know how everyone would take it, especially with Chancellor Palaptine’s new government system. Then she smiled to herself. There went her political mind again, getting a plan in place and figuring out a democratic solution.

“Everyone,” Jobal called. She almost looked up, but then remembered that she was supposed to look dead. Her mother had always been good at addressing people in a kind, but firm way.

“I think we’re all just a little bit tired,” she continued, when she had her family’s attention. “We should go home now, and get some rest. We can always come back later, we do still have two more days.”

Two more days, Padme thought. Nobles can be viewed for six days before their chamber is sealed. Then I was only out for about a week? It felt like I had been gone forever…

Then a security guard came into her line of view. “Pardon the intrusion, but we have to close up for the night. You’re welcome to come back tomorrow, but you can’t stay any longer.”

“You heard the man,” Ruwee said gently. “It’s time to go, dears.”

They each kissed their fingertips and laid them on the edge of her coffin briefly, a Nubian symbol of respect, then filed out of the room. She couldn’t see their faces, but Padme was sure that they were all a little teary-eyed.

The security guard shut the door, and she heard his footsteps clopping away down the hall. Gently, she reached upwards and pushed the glass. It came easily, and then she was free to walk around. Carefully, she stepped out of the coffin and began to look around.