The funeral ceremony itself was short, consisting of nothing more than a few words by the bereaved. Sheev kept his arms firmly around her as if either holding her together or restraining her, but he was a silent companion and finally a comfort.
Here, where there were no politics to be played or appearances to be kept up, he finally seemed to recognize the horror of it all. He spent the trip to Naboo in business, but once they arrived, he did not leave her side for the duration of the preparations and the ceremony itself.
Tradition dictated a remembrance feast, so Vali and Mother took charge of those formalities. Father and Michel kept up the conversation for some time, but they eventually recognized that the bereaved were not in the mood for company.
The Palpatines finally found themselves alone in the library his family had compiled over six generations. Whenever they had returned to the family home, this had been their haven. It did not have many comforts, but it had an old-fashioned seat that fit both of them perfectly. For now, it was their escape.
“I believed from the start that you would make an excellent father,” Amne said quietly after she had comfortably settled into his embrace, “but I did not understand why until I began observing you with Anakin Skywalker.”
“Really,” he murmured back.
“You look after him as if he were vitally important to you, as if there are few things more important than what he makes of himself,” she explained. “I imagine that you would have cared for our sons in the same way.”
“I imagine you are right,” he said. “As I say, I have something of a gift for foreseeing potential. Both you and young Skywalker have demonstrated that.”
She nearly smiled at the frank affection in his voice. “And I trust that when we do finally become parents, you will prove me right again.”
She heard a quiet sigh and his arms slipped from her shoulders. “You have decided, then.”
She could not tell if he was wary of her change of heart or was disappointed by her choice. It was not so much a change of heart as a yearning for resolution.
“I need something to look forward to,” she replied. “I thought you supported the idea of more children.”
She was inexplicably relieved that he didn't answer immediately. When he took this kind of time to answer, there would be no real politics involved in what he eventually said. His arms did not move between the time she finished her statement and when he quietly replied.
“I want what is best for us,” he said. “I believe children may be a part of that, but if that is not what the fates have in store for us, so be it. I also have a special concern in seeing that you are happy.”
She leaned back slightly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. “Thank you for your honesty,” she said.
“You doubted it?”
In the past, that might have been a teasing question, but given the circumstances of the last few months, there was nothing humorous about it. It was a valid concern raised by someone who had undoubtedly questioned her loyalty at one moment or another.
“I did not doubt it,” she said with the same care that he had demonstrated in choosing his words. “I expected you to be diplomatic and evasive as you so often are to spare my feelings.”
“I want to spare you unnecessary grief,” he corrected. “It has not been terribly effective in the past.”
She smiled at that particular moment of candor and lifted one hand to caress his cheek affectionately.
“I'm sorry that I haven't contributed much to that effort.”
Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door. Amne let her hand fall back to her lap and straightened her posture.
“Yes?”
Vali opened the door, her expression one of apprehension. “Everything is ready,” she announced. “We'll be waiting.”
“Thank you,” Sheev replied. “We will join you in a few moments.”
His arms slid from her waist the moment Vali shut the door behind her. Amne took advantage of the movement to pull away. She was not as eager to leave his embrace as she had been in the past days, but it was much easier to pull away on her own terms. She turned and recognized by his expression that he did not begrudge her that.
“You are strong,” he stated. “I recognized that when I first knew you and I have seen it today.”
She succeeded in smiling for him then. “If anything, that is the one thing I have doubted the most,” she confessed. “Until I believe in my own strength again, I may have to rely on your faith.”
“If you must,” he said with a matching smile. “When we return home, we'll be able to discuss how to convert you back to the correct path.”
*****
She had dreamed many times of specific moments during her captivity, but since her return from Naboo, one scene monopolized her nightmares.
It was difficult to tell why her subconscious kept returning to the last interview with Lirahy, but there was something compellingly terrifying about her former protector's assault methods. It was a less violent nightmare than the others, but its terror lay in the familiarity.
It was the only nightmare that she remembered every night since her rescue. It had first come to her in the dark hours between her arrival at Bilbringi and the Jedi's arrival in her medcenter room. She assumed it was the only other time during the ordeal that she had felt completely powerless.
It was the first nightmare that changed its tactics on her. At first, the change was so fleeting she thought she had imagined it. By the third night that Lirahy's face was replaced by Sheev’s, she could not deny the mental connection. By that time, she had learned to control her screams and only awoke with her breath coming in short gasps. At some point since he had struck her, she had outgrown the idea that he would not harm her.
The night before the inauguration was no exception, but it left her more shaken than before. On most mornings, she could accept her own fear and then suppress it long before her first appointment. Today, however, she was expected to spend the entire day in the public eye, and she could not afford any sign of weakness.
The dress she had chosen was dark blue, belted with a pale ivory sash. It was not in the mourning colors, but today marked a period of transition and she had determined to demonstrate that in a suitably political manner. She kept her hair bound back from her face, but not in the double braid. The cosmetics did not cover her exhaustion convincingly, but they at least made her look less haggard.
Sheev, of course, looked as if he were well-rested and confident. In what seemed to be a gesture of compassion, he had insisted on keeping the number of visitors to a minimum, but the atmosphere in the waiting room was still charged. Michel delivered the final revision of the address a typical five minutes before Sheev was scheduled to take the oath of office. Trober hovered with a slightly nervous air.
“You look lovely, milady,” he said finally when he failed to find anything else to use for small-talk.
“Thank you, Trober,” Amne said with the slight smile that she was using to warm up for the public spectacle. “You clean up well.”
It was a familiar joke—Trober was impeccably well-groomed and fastidious—but it helped her smile become more genuine. Sheev glanced her way and offered a smile of his own.
“I had hoped I would see you enjoying yourself,” he commented.
“It won't last long,” Amne informed him. “Has anyone ever considered the possibility of holocasting the inauguration so that only a few dozen sentients could stare at us in person?”
“I'll recommend it for my next re-election,” he responded dryly. “I regret that you must endure this, but there is a new ballet premiering tomorrow night. I would like to make that a peace offering.”
Six more members of the Chancellery Guard entered the room, which could only mean that they were expected to move in the next minute. Pushing all thoughts of dreams and irrational fears to the back of her mind, she wrapped her hand tightly around his and flashed him the kind of grin that she rarely allowed the public to see. It was the smile that would assure him that she was prepared to forgive him for being trusted as the leader of the free galaxy.
“I accept your offer.”
Less than a minute later, the signal was given and the doors to the Grand Audience Chamber opened to a roar of sound. Immediately, the lights of over a hundred holocams stamped her eyes and she had to close them for a few moments, but Sheev guided her firmly by the hand. By the time they reached the dais, her ears had adjusted to the din and her eyes had nearly adjusted to the lights. She kept her gaze on her husband so that she would not be caught squinting at the tens of thousands who were allowed into the Chamber.
The head of the Judiciary Department summoned them forward and Sheev released her hand so that he could raise his to the square.
“Please repeat after me,” Justice Khatarn requested. “I, Sheev Palpatine ...”
“I, Sheev Palpatine ...”
“Do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Republic against all enemies, foreign and domestic ...”
“Do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Republic against all enemies, foreign and domestic ...”
“That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same ...”
“That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same ...”
“That I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion ...”
“That I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion ...”
“And I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.”
“And I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.”
It was an oath that she had heard from his mouth three times now, but the strength of his voice and the intensity of his expression had always rekindled her faith in his ability to lead. For all of her fears, today was no exception.
“Thank you, Justice Khatarn,” Sheev said solemnly.
“Thank you, Supreme Chancellor.”
Khatarn turned to bow deferentially to Amne and she inclined her head as a superior official recognizing the respect of a subject. Sheev turned to kiss her on the cheek, their good-luck ritual before each of these occasions. This time, his kiss brushed the spot where his hand had struck her not so many weeks ago, as if he were trying to erase that memory. She flushed slightly, but she could not tell the reason for the reaction. Amne kept her smile fixed in place as he drew back. Without further ado, he turned and took his place behind the podium once more.
“Fellow peoples of the Republic.”
He began each inaugural address the same way each time and, as expected, the assembly responded enthusiastically. Amne usually kept herself entertained by tallying the number of times he was interrupted by applause—each time, she had heard various drafts of the speech so many times she could have recited it herself. She could tell where they chose the word “audacious” in place of “bold.” She would remember the draft where he waxed sentimental about education instead of speaking out against partisan politics. Today, she would not tally anything. It took too much of her concentration just to keep a genial expression on her face.
“Ten years ago, I took the Supreme Chancellery oath of office for the first time. I had seen my own people come through a war and I witnessed the collective wisdom of the Republic in responding to a monumental crisis. I faced the unknown both as a citizen and as a leader, but I faced it secure in the knowledge that the citizens of my Republic stood united. My faith was justified by the action of our noble leaders. The Senate spoke in strong support of democracy and in even stronger support of its citizen planets.
“On that day, I looked forward to many more years of peace and prosperity. It is the duty of every leader to hope for the best and anticipate the worst, but I vowed on that day to do everything within my power to forestall any threat to the people of the Republic. For ten years, my faithful friends in the Senate have done the same. I could never claim sole responsibility for any of that success, but I believe that I was right to work towards that worthy goal.”
More applause.
“Though I had no hand in the matter, I could not have asked for a more dedicated legislative body ...”
This time, the applause lasted longer.
“Nor could have I anticipated how vitally staunch a support my wife has been.”
The response was even louder than that at the beginning of the speech. Feeling utterly undeserving, Amne had to force her smile to broaden and her hand shook as she raised it in acknowledgment.
'With such auspicious circumstances and such devoted allies, I faced the new term with the same faith that I had in the past. I anticipated standing before you today to outline my plans for humanitarian efforts and to promise improvements in the education of your children.”
In the early drafts, the pronoun had been “our.” She flinched before her mind caught up to her muscles and she attempted to cover the reaction by turning her head further to the right, but if the holoshills were in fine form, they would not let it go unnoticed.
“I had hoped to outline our diplomatic aspirations and political intentions for the next four years,” Sheev continued. “Instead, I must speak instead of the current crisis. It has never been more important than now that I take the oath to protect the Republic from enemies both foreign and domestic. As I did ten years ago, I have found myself facing the prospect of war. It is no easier today than it was then and I am grateful for that. Loyalties change as do governments and boundaries, but one thing must remain constant.
“I have relied on the strength of my own convictions and the diligence of the elected representatives for the past ten years. I look to them for their wisdom now to prioritize the protection of our citizen states and second their own agendas. In return, I swear to do the same.”
It was no surprise that this promise drew the most applause yet. Sheev kept his head bowed deferentially, but she could see the shadow of a smile on his profile.
“I have never been a proponent of partisan politics, but now is the time to unite behind a common purpose. I fervently hope that it will not come to war. In the event that it does, I look forward to the day when we can teach our children of the victory we won at this time. In the coming years, I will look back in admiration of the great humanitarian efforts that were made towards those affected by the treachery of others. I cannot promise that the journey to unity will be easy, but I am certain it will be more than worth it. I thank you for your vote of confidence.”
He stepped away from the podium after one of the more brief discourses of his career. Amne joined him out of habit and wrapped her hand around his. She let him see the first smile of approval of the day even as the applause thundered.
“Of all the things I looked forward to during your captivity, I wished for you to be here,” he said quietly.
A blush warmed her cheeks once more and she could not feel afraid at this moment. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”
Chapter 5
There were no truly polite or tactful ways of addressing a mental instability, but Amne heard several dozen attempts during the inaugural balls. Some were better than the others, but they all made her feel like a specimen in a jar.
With billions of people attending the balls that were held across Coruscant and on many worlds across the Republic, it was impossible to spend more than a minute with most of the people who congratulated the Chancellor and First Lady. Most of the comments ranged from “Are you ... you know, well?” to “I didn't think you'd actually be up to this.”
The least helpful one came from the Chandrilan junior senator, who advised her, “You shouldn't have come. No one really wants to see the Chancellor supported by someone who is not quite right in the head.”
His colleague, the stately Mon Mothma, immediately retorted, “Why not? They tolerate you.”
By mutual agreement, they had limited the inaugural activities. They kept both the Advisory Council lunch and the family dinner in place, but instead of spending twenty minutes at the thirty central balls, they chose to spend one hour at six and retire at midnight.
The dress she had chosen for the occasion was less festive than the ones she had worn in past years. She had forgone bare arms or vibrant colors in favor of a dark purple gown with an ivory lace overlay and elbow-length sleeves. Sheev was, as always, in a simple formal suit.
They chose to go to the Senators' ball, the ones held by the Alderaanian and Naboo delegations, the campaign staff reception, the Core systems' ball and the Outer Rim dinner.
Sheev stayed by her side for most of the night—she only allowed herself to grant dance requests when old friends like Bail Organa or Sio Bibble asked—but it was around 2200, when they were halfway through their appearance at the Alderaanian Consulate when she exercised a purely selfish instinct. It was midway through a performance by the Antibes Quartet and she placed a hand on her husband's arm, leaning in for some privacy.
“I love you,” she murmured, “but you do not need to hover and I would like some time to myself.”
She could see his smile appear in profile and he glanced at her for a moment before returning his attention to the performance. “Are you trying to be rid of me?” he asked in like tones.
“Just for a little while,” she confirmed. “I'll make sure Leiha Antilles and Breha Organa know how much we appreciate their support and you can speak to Bail about the Military Creation Act.”
He moved his arm just enough that her hand slid downwards and into his grasp. “Always thinking like a politician,” Sheev commended. “I believe there are at least three hundred people who have told you that you look wonderful tonight.”
She was actually feeling a rather desperate need to have some alone time with Vali, Mother and Delani, who had been adopted for the evening. Delani was, of course, sitting with her husband two tables over and attempting to look alert.
“Thank you,” she concluded.
A few moments later, the performance ended and they applauded enthusiastically. Sheev leaned over and kissed her quickly, then disappeared with Trober. Delani caught her eye immediately and waited until she had fielded off three senatorial aides.
“Whose idea was this?” she asked quietly.
“Mine,” Amne said with a smile. “We both needed some space.”
“Good,” Delani approved. “Master Yoda wanted a word with you.”
That was the last thing she expected to hear from Delani, since the two had never met before. Craning her neck around, she could not see the diminutive Jedi. As far as she knew, neither Delani nor Jes had ever spoken to the Jedi Master before, much less acted as his emissary.
“Really?” she commented. “I spoke to him earlier tonight.”
“He only wanted a minute or so,” her friend assured her. “Zia arranged for a conference room in case you were willing to slip away.”
Her Jedi protectors had been trying to blend in, to the point where both of them had donned formal gowns. She had not noticed until now that only Uli was visible. She was the only Twi'lek in the room.The only sign of her status was the lightsaber hanging from the sash of her floor-length white gown.
“Lead on,” Amne requested.
Four guards fell into formation as she left the room, but Delani and Uli already flanked her. Two doors down, they stopped, and Zia left the room.
“I'll let you speak to him in private,” she commented. “We're due to leave in twenty-five minutes.”
“Thank you,” Amne said automatically.
Privacy notwithstanding, it was customary for one guard to accompany her into an unscheduled conference. Semlit took this duty without requesting permission and closed the door behind them.
Master Yoda stood immediately and bowed. Amne responded accordingly before gesturing to the chair that he had just vacated and taking a seat herself.
“My thanks you have for seeing me,” Yoda said formally.
They were hardly more than acquaintances—she had only met him in passing throughout the years—but he had not been this distant at other times. He was walking on proverbial eggshells, but this seemed to be the theme of the night. It was also a change from the way he had spoken to her at the Outer Rim dinner.
“My pleasure,” Amne said. “How may I help you?”
“How we may help you the Jedi Council wishes to discuss,” he corrected. “Troubled you are.”
She bit back a quick, defensive response and nodded. “I have not been sleeping well,” she began. “There are many things weighing on my mind, as you might imagine.”
“Our help we have once offered,” Yoda reminded her. “Considered it, have you?”
Amne took her time before responding this time. It was, she believed, an offer made out of genuine concern rather than a political motive. Sheev had not dismissed the idea, but she had not discussed it with him beyond the initial suggestion.
“I have,” she said.
“Disturbed you seemed at the inauguration,” Yoda said. “Troubled you have seemed since your return. A difficult thing you have suffered, but alone you are not.”
“And you presume to think the Jedi might be able to cure that?”
It came more waspishly than she had intended and she immediately colored in embarrassment at her lack of gratitude. Master Yoda patted her hand with his own and smiled gently.
“Cure this we cannot,” he agreed. “By no mortal can heartbreak be cured. Help, possible may be.”
She paused for a long moment to consider this and to calm herself. Finally, she clasped her hands in her lap and nodded.
“I cannot afford to be out of the public eye,” she stated. “I assume that the mind healers allow outpatient care?”
“Almost always,” Yoda confirmed. “To disrupt things further we do not wish. Your husband's trust we have long enjoyed. To reward that trust we wish.”
“Thank you,” Amne responded. “I will need to speak to my husband, but if it is permissible, I would like for one of my guards to arrange for an appointment with your people. I should have a response for you by morning.”
“Of course,” Yoda replied with a dip of his head. “Let you return to the ball I should.”
They exchanged less formal bows as a farewell and he allowed her to leave first. Delani fell into step with her, her expression slightly smug.
“He convinced you to see the Jedi healers,” she guessed.
“I will be deciding by tomorrow morning,” Amne corrected, “but I believe that it can do some good.”
“I'll let Jes talk you both into it,” Delani decided. “She'll be meeting you at the aides' reception.”
“I'm sure she will,” Amne sighed. “For now, I want to see if my husband still remembers how to waltz.”
Notes:
The Force seems to be trying to tell Amne something, but she doesn’t know how to listen.
As boring as political speeches sometimes are, I think this one is effective, because it just makes you ill to read it and know what he’s about to do. Not to mention the oath of office.