Speaking HONESTLY is difficult for her– after living so many years lying just to meet her ends, honesty has become a foreign concept. Asajj’s RELUCTANCE to be truthful shows itself in the lines of her face. “There’s nothing more that you can do for me.”
the struggle etched into her features is what gives her the COURAGEto lay a cool hand upon her arm. she has never been one to place judgement upon others for differences or mistakes. “ don’t— don’t give up hope. we always have a choice. tell me what is troubling you. ”
“i’m simply a believer in stating the obvious, m’lady. if we are being honest i would like to have a morning drink before you started with those looks of yours.”
“ looks of mine? i’m certain i don’t know what you’re implying. ”
Asajj frowned, her eyes flitting away from Padme’s in a rare moment of…. remorse? SHAME? She couldn’t quite place the emotion, but she knew she’d rather not feel it. “It’s out of my hands. I’m LEAVING, Padme. I have to.”
COMPASSION outlines wide eyes. she longs to reach out to the other, to offer an anchor in a raging sea, but worries it would only serve to push her further away. “ nothing is decided. talk to me— let me help you. ”
He is tired, weary from what he has seen throughout his long years. It is not a tiredness borne of age; so deft and complete is his control of the Force, he feels no stress or illness that others with a life as lengthy as his are prone to suffering. It is simply a result of spending many years pleading to and entreating those who would not listen. For decades it had been so, during his time with the Jedi and the Senate, until it had come to a point where he realised that if he wanted things to change, he would have to take matters into his own hands. And so he has, having lost all hope for those he now considers his enemies.
But this one, he knows, is different. At times, infuriatingly so - many plans other than Gunray’s have suffered the interference of Padmé Amidala. One who many call the strongest voice of the Republic next to the Chancellor himself. And one who, should he convince her to turn away from the lies she unwittingly supported, will bring them greatness.
“You live with the answers to that question every day, Senator. In my experience, the Republic has never listened to reason. And so force has become my only alternative.”
NO POLITICAL MATTER is settled quickly in the republic. it is perhaps one of the most frequently voiced complaints of democracy. all decisions must be brought forth before the senate, discussed, voted upon, possibly repealed— and the ordeal begins anew. she knows this firsthand, has experienced it as both senator and queen, has felt her own frustration at the looped, cumbersome affair. as a queen with a blockade upon her planet, her people put into concentration camps, the senate’s leisurely pace of coming to a conclusion had infuriated her younger self.
but she has learned so much since then, and has borne witness to TERRIBLE LOSES. she still hopes for and demands action, but has now learned the process of pushing such decisions through to conclusion. despite her misgivings, perhaps even because of them, the faith of her heart is tied steadily to the republic— to freedom it provides to beings across the galaxy. and she holds no fear in fighting and raging to protect the safety the republic grants those people. at her sides, her hands are defiant fists, closed upon her emotions to best maintain the steady, logical tone of her words.
“ i have no answers. i live every day of my life demanding, pleading for them, from people like you, dooku. the republic answers to reason benefiting the safety of her people. what have you offered in the name of their protection? all i have seen from you is death, and fear. “
❛ lady breha antilles, your highness. ❜ her voice fairly tremulous as her legs twist into a curtsy before making an attempt to exhale. ❛ it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. i’ve heard many great things about you and what you have done for naboo. ❜
THE CORNERS OF her mouth turn towards the stars, the warmth of the brightest sun ensuing forth. “ it should be i addressing you as such, your highness. please— call me padmé. “ her knees lock into the grace of a dipped arc in return, the action locked into her memory from years of practice. such respects had to be perfectly executed whenever the need arose for her to become padmé the handmaiden rather than queen amidala. “ i’ve very much looked forward to meeting you; bail holds you in the highest of regards. as a husband should. “
these months away from her could quite possibly be the hardest months of anakin’s life. months away flying through the stars. fighting against the separatist armies that came their way. coming up with fighting tactics and strategies to break through their defenses. but even with all this war. all this fighting. anakin still had a wife at home. a wife he was desperate to see again. he missed her dearly ; not a day went by where he didn’t think of her. and now being back here on coruscant, the first thing the jedi found himself doing was scanning the room for her.
his eyes soon caught her fingers against the cord around her neck. a smile twitching at the corner of his lips as he began to make his way over. if they were alone ; he would’ve ran to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as close as he could. if they were alone, he’d kiss her. he’d give her the kiss he has thought about for months. ( but he simply could not do that ). instead he walked over, his stance tall and his hands clasped behind his back. but he still smiled at her. like she was the only thing in the room.
❝ senator amidala. i see you’ve been keeping everything well here. ❞ he couldn’t take his eyes off her. not even for a second. he found his own cheeks blushing hard with a deep red color, forcing the general to lower his head and in an attempt to clear his throat and calm his cheeks before anyone else noticed.
HIS GRIN does not escape her and it causes her own to grow in response, to smile like she hasn’t in MONTHS. it feels like so much longer since she’s seen him last— surely the sleepless nights and endless worry have aged her a decade. she has come to THRIVE off of the cheapest of gossip tabloids, pouring over anything she can get her hands on that might have word of his wellbeing and where he is. a ghost is what she has become: throwing herself into the passion of her work, of ending the war and BRINGING HER HUSBAND HOME. it is all she does. but the vision of him before her has breathed life back into her.
“ we’ve done our best. i fear its you, general skywalker, whose task is far more difficult. “ the glimpse of his flushed cheeks warms her very soul, the action in itself endearing. she’s thankful that their friendship is public knowledge, that she can step away from her fellow senators and speak with him in a semblance of privacy. its sweet torture, seeing him, speaking with him, but being unable to reach up and trace the line of his jaw, to tell him how much she loves him, how she’s missed him. “ how are you? “
