[ She is, despite the warm welcome, a bit bitter that she has not been allowed to dress as she pleases. More concerning might be the fact that she has no recollection of the last time she was permitted to dress in the gowns she is most accustomed to. Even one of her more practical and durable ensembles would’ve sufficed, but she cannot have either, it would seem. Oh, the silks are fine, and they fit her well enough, but she would sooner be dressed for a Senate hearing, or at least outfitted properly for a rigorous expedition. She is also grateful, however, that she is the one facing this strange trial, and not one of the women loyal to her, any of whom would’ve dutifully taken her place, if only there had been any preparing for this.
There hadn’t been. She is being heralded as an honored guest, after waking in some sort of half-lucid dream in which she’d reached for an extended hand, guidance in the darkness. After that, a waking that had hardly seemed like waking, surrounded as she was next by faces she did not know. Kindly enough, they were, and that image that she was seeing again and again. A crown? A queen? Success, they proclaimed, and before she could begin to wonder what precisely that word meant in this dream, she was ushered into a castle.
A palace as fine as the one she knew best, on Naboo, and yet unlike anything she had ever seen. The rooms were not so extraordinary – elegant living quarters, a lavish dining hall, a library. Her initial wandering takes her to the study hall, where she is bemused to find magicians – is that what they are? – at some strange work. Spells and tricks, they seem to be practicing, and she can only observe in polite silence for so long before she is drawn closer, to peer in wonder at the illusions being cast in the palms of the practitioners’ very hands. ]
Do you practice this for your own pleasure? Or for someone else’s?
ii | dungeon
[ No one stops her from visiting the dungeon, although no one seems to encourage it, either. A place of torture, or merely of holding? As she descends the stairwell, she is not accosted by any wails of torment. Not that that means anything; cruelty is not always practiced so brazenly. She is careful, measured in her steps, and poised to listen. Every city was governed by laws, and where there were laws, there were those intent on breaking them. There were also those falsely accused of breaking them, and she cannot know what to expect of this place. Here, too, she would have liked to have been dressed differently: not in smooth silks, certainly.
The dungeon is dark and ripe with an unsettling quiet, as would be expected, at least for her first few uncertain steps. These prisoners pose a threat to the kingdom, she has been informed, which is both vague and dismissive. What have they done to deserve being locked out of sight, away from the luxurious spread of food above? She passes by the bars, aware that her visit here must be brief if she is going to avoid attracting suspicion, though she does find herself pausing before one of the cells, weighing all manner of sinister crimes against the appearance of the captive within.
How to know whether justice is too great or too small? When she speaks, her voice is soft and her eyes take account of each detail the face before her offers. ]
Padmé ⋆ Star Wars ⋆ The Empress
i | study hall
[ She is, despite the warm welcome, a bit bitter that she has not been allowed to dress as she pleases. More concerning might be the fact that she has no recollection of the last time she was permitted to dress in the gowns she is most accustomed to. Even one of her more practical and durable ensembles would’ve sufficed, but she cannot have either, it would seem. Oh, the silks are fine, and they fit her well enough, but she would sooner be dressed for a Senate hearing, or at least outfitted properly for a rigorous expedition. She is also grateful, however, that she is the one facing this strange trial, and not one of the women loyal to her, any of whom would’ve dutifully taken her place, if only there had been any preparing for this.
There hadn’t been. She is being heralded as an honored guest, after waking in some sort of half-lucid dream in which she’d reached for an extended hand, guidance in the darkness. After that, a waking that had hardly seemed like waking, surrounded as she was next by faces she did not know. Kindly enough, they were, and that image that she was seeing again and again. A crown? A queen? Success, they proclaimed, and before she could begin to wonder what precisely that word meant in this dream, she was ushered into a castle.
A palace as fine as the one she knew best, on Naboo, and yet unlike anything she had ever seen. The rooms were not so extraordinary – elegant living quarters, a lavish dining hall, a library. Her initial wandering takes her to the study hall, where she is bemused to find magicians – is that what they are? – at some strange work. Spells and tricks, they seem to be practicing, and she can only observe in polite silence for so long before she is drawn closer, to peer in wonder at the illusions being cast in the palms of the practitioners’ very hands. ]
Do you practice this for your own pleasure? Or for someone else’s?
ii | dungeon
[ No one stops her from visiting the dungeon, although no one seems to encourage it, either. A place of torture, or merely of holding? As she descends the stairwell, she is not accosted by any wails of torment. Not that that means anything; cruelty is not always practiced so brazenly. She is careful, measured in her steps, and poised to listen. Every city was governed by laws, and where there were laws, there were those intent on breaking them. There were also those falsely accused of breaking them, and she cannot know what to expect of this place. Here, too, she would have liked to have been dressed differently: not in smooth silks, certainly.
The dungeon is dark and ripe with an unsettling quiet, as would be expected, at least for her first few uncertain steps. These prisoners pose a threat to the kingdom, she has been informed, which is both vague and dismissive. What have they done to deserve being locked out of sight, away from the luxurious spread of food above? She passes by the bars, aware that her visit here must be brief if she is going to avoid attracting suspicion, though she does find herself pausing before one of the cells, weighing all manner of sinister crimes against the appearance of the captive within.
How to know whether justice is too great or too small? When she speaks, her voice is soft and her eyes take account of each detail the face before her offers. ]
How long have you been in here?
iii | wildcard!