Suppression
The forbidden tale of Anakin and Padmé's AOTC courtship. A detailed expansion covering the movie, known deleted scenes, and many new scenes. If George showed 20% of their screen time, this is the other 80%. Told in Padmé's POV with ROTS awareness. Written for the enduring fans of Anidala.
I Coruscant. Chapter 3: Executive Order
It was the familiar savory smell that roused me awake. When my eyes squinted open, I saw Dormé's oval face looking down on me from her stance next to the sofa. A promising mug was in her right hand. "Caf?" she asked, sweetly.
Oof. Did I fall asleep looking at drafts on the couch again? This was hardly the first time Dormé had found me on the yellow bench, greeting me in the morning with a pleasant smile and a hot cup of my favorite spiced brew.
The apartment was cast in yellowish amber, as the emerging sunrise entered the space like gold filling a basin. It was going to be a beautiful morning. For a wonderful moment, life was as it had been. Normal. Uneventful. I was too recent a visitor of the mind-numbing sleep world, and I didn't yet remember the events of the landing platform. The deaths. The grief. The close call of the second attempt. But the ignorant spell was broken when a shiver went through me and I realized how frigid the room was, and why. Normally, I kept my apartment at humid, slightly warm temperature that mimicked Naboo's southern climate. It reminded me of home. But the busted window in my bedroom— an area that was merely one open corridor away— must've allowed Coruscant's chilly dry air to infiltrate throughout the apartment during the night.
And with that dawn of understanding, reality came rushing back. Because it was a window broken when a bounty hunter— or their accomplice, I was still hazy on the details, especially now— tried to assassinate me. Had tried again— after slaughtering innocents yesterday.
Cordé. Bern. Torin.
Seven faces flashed before my eyes in quick succession. I stared momentarily at the deep blue ceiling, composing myself, halting the way my lungs seemed to constrict and fill with rocks in my chest. Then I swallowed the grief back. I propped myself up on my left elbow— like I'd prophesied, I had indeed rolled over in my sleep to better adjust myself to the "C" curve of the sofa— and with a grateful smile, I reached up. Dormé carefully passed me the purple mug of caf, just like she had for hundreds of mornings. Some routines just carried on. "Thank you." I wrapped all my fingers around the cup luxuriously— it warmed my chilled hands.
That's when I noticed there was a second, thicker blanket draped across my lower half, covering the thin one I'd brought with me from the veranda's couch. It was the purple top linen from my actual bed. That was unexpected. Without it, I might've frozen through the night. I credited its presence to Dormé. She must've placed it on me while I slept.
Unless…
"Where's Ani?" My eyes scanned around the room, failing to find their target.
Dormé studied me for a moment, pausing ever so briefly before she answered, with a directional tip of her head, "He's just outside. I think he's doing some morning reflection ritual."
Careful not to spill my drink, I sat up enough to peek over the rim of the furniture at the figure out on the balcony. His back was to us, and his hands were clasped low behind him. His brown robe floated around him in the breeze, showing us that his feet were spread shoulder-width apart. There was no hint of tension in his frame. The sunrise rays illuminated his dark blond hair, making the short strands appear almost crown-like around his head.
When Dormé answered me, her voice had been quieter than when I'd asked my question, and I knowingly matched her low volume now. "He's meditating."
Dormé shrugged. "Like I said."
I sat up fully, my aching back protesting but also reveling in the chance to straighten out. I stretched it as best I could while sitting and holding a cup of hot fluid in my hand. At least my neck seemed to have decided not to hurt anymore. I ventured the mug to my lips, but the toasty air before I made contact alerted my senses that it was still too hot. I blew habitually on the liquid, then dared to take a sip anyways. I licked my scorched lips and looked expectantly up at Dormé. "Any news?"
Only her eyes betrayed Dormé's otherwise stoic countenance. "Hundreds of messages of condolence came during the night. Honestly, it might be in the thousands by now. Even some of the factions who don't like you sent words of sympathy. And there are numerous requests for interviews from the media."
I sighed. "So, word has gotten out."
At least the families of the victims knew— I'd made sure they'd been contacted before I gave my speech to the Senate yesterday. In my opening remarks to the assembled chamber, I'd publicly announced the seven lives lost. It would've been unforgivable if the families found out either that way or through some back channel.
"Should we tackle the media all at once? Call a press conference?"
"No," my tone was adamant, imperative. "No, not with the vote in the balance. I don't even want to give the appearance of capitalizing on tragedy."
The life of a politician mandated that press conferences be a part of the diet, but instigating them when it wasn't absolutely necessary was the style of other Senators, not me. Besides, the threat was still ongoing, and there was no need to make Obi-Wan and Ani's job any more difficult.
Dormé nodded, and I knew she both understood and agreed. "A memorial service is going to be held at the Naboo embassy this morning. There's to be moment of silence, time for remarks, as well as grief counseling for anyone seeking it. The service is going to be semi-private— Naboo only at this time."
I knew the staff at the embassy extremely well, and I was proud and glad that they were putting something together. The shock and brutality of this attack would be felt by all who called Naboo home, and I was grateful that those here on Coruscant had a place to come together.
I took another sip of caf. "I'll be there, too." Dormé's lips twisted, and lines appeared on her forehead. I was about to take another sip, but as I studied my handmaiden the mug stayed paused before my lips, inadvertently heating the tip of my nose. "What is it?"
"Nothing. Well. I just think— yes, it would be good of you to go."
I gave her a wary look. "What are you not telling me?"
A rushed sigh suddenly escaped through Dormé's nose. "Last night the embassy held a candlelight vigil for the fallen at Lucian Park— completely open to the public. The crowd was… large."
I didn't believe my ears. "Our embassy? The embassy for Naboo?"
The look on her face was all the affirmation I needed.
I gaped at her, incredulous. "Why wasn't I told?" I should have been there!
Dormé was immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry. You were in your room eating dinner when I found out, and the Jedi and Captain Typho told me not to."
My lips straightened into a thinly pressed line, and then my voice rang out clear and loud. "Ani!"
Continued at AO3 Link and FanFiction.net Link