The Bitterness of war
War spreads through the galaxy; for most, life goes on. Then there are the few that spend what seems to be an eternity, indulged in military issues and political propaganda. For them, time stands still and has the bitter taste of a beverage gone stagnant. For these are perilous times, no one is safe, and the death tolls of the innocent climb with every bat of an eye; it is the horrid reality, the bitterness of war.
Nearly two months have passed since the first campaign was issued by the Republic. The Senate has congregated daily since the battle broke ground, and had yet to cease its diligence to find a peaceful negotiation to end this brutal war.
As Senator Amidala finishes her daily tributes to the war, she leaves her office and her political persona behind. Once she is safely inside her private confines of her apartment, Padme' finally releases a well - needed sigh of relief. It has been a little more than six weeks, since Anakin left for the campaign in the Tobali System. For Padme', every single day that passed seemed to be an equivalent to a standard month time. Her heart ached for some word of his well being, every day was pure torture as she awaited for the dreaded disk that listed the names of those killed in battle. This was a mandatory procedure amongst the Senators, it kept them aware of the numbers lost and furthered their actions to find a quicker resolution for peace.
Padme' put the datapad aside and walked to her bedroom window. Night had fallen and covered the sky in blackness. Only blinking specs of flickering light shone bright across the vast skyline. Though the view was breathtaking, the constant twinkle only added to Padme's throbbing migraine. Placing one hand firmly on her brow, she could sense that she was with fever. Sighing once more, she tugged at her snug corset. Over the past weeks, not only had her headaches grown, but so had her petite figure. The crushed red velvet of her tightly laced bustier seemed to be worn at the seems. There had been no time to exercise the body or the mind, for every moment was spent on the war, not to mention the Galactic Funding as well. To purchase new garments was out of the question and impossible; she would have to make do with the ensembles she already had.
Shrugging off her self pity, Padme' once again lifted the datapad and sat herself at the edge of her bed. Inserting the disk, she took a deep breath and began to scan and scroll through the alphabetical list. Only tears filled her dark, large and usually inquisitive eyes. Though at this moment, there was no contentment for query; only sadness with a glimmer of hope. As she neared the S's her heart nearly jumped; he was alive.
Tossing the pad on the bed, she stood up and walked over to her vanity. There she opened an elaborate jewelry box, its decorative carvings were richly painted in shimmering silvers and gleaming golds. Inside was something more valuable than the riches or splendor of jewels. Just a single, transparent piece of parchment graced its interior. This was all she had of her husband, besides the jappor snipet that encircled her neck. These were the reminders, both bittersweet and prominently painful in her vivid memory. As she grasped the pendant in one hand, she held tightly to the letter in the other. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she read the words she knew by heart, for she had made it a nightly ritual to read them ever since he left.
" My every thought is of you. My every breath is of your essence. Every word I utter will be laced with your name. Every time my heart beats, a vision of your beautiful face will flash before me. You are, to me, the reason for my sole existence; I love you. Wait for me, I will come back. Always, I promise you."
Anakin
As her jagged breath leaves her fatigued body, she is compelled to sit and rest. Slumping down into her vanitys elegantly styled, matching chair, she is stricken with immense pain surging through her abdominal region. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she is horrified by her pallid appearance. Placing her hands upon her lap, she is overcome with fear. Lifting her hands to her face, she grows faint over the sight of her red palms.Surely, this is just a dream or an ill-figment of her over-worked imagination. " No." she softly whispers as she gets up to search for help. Struck by harsh reality of the severity of her pain, Padme' falls to the plush, purple carpeting of her room. Reaching out with her arms, grating at the floor with her fingernails, she screams in horror "Help Me! Dorme'! Please, help me!!" As her eyes begin to flutter shut and complete darkness starts to consume her, she echoes one more time,
" Help me....please...Anakin! "
Nearly two months have passed since the first campaign was issued by the Republic. The Senate has congregated daily since the battle broke ground, and had yet to cease its diligence to find a peaceful negotiation to end this brutal war.
As Senator Amidala finishes her daily tributes to the war, she leaves her office and her political persona behind. Once she is safely inside her private confines of her apartment, Padme' finally releases a well - needed sigh of relief. It has been a little more than six weeks, since Anakin left for the campaign in the Tobali System. For Padme', every single day that passed seemed to be an equivalent to a standard month time. Her heart ached for some word of his well being, every day was pure torture as she awaited for the dreaded disk that listed the names of those killed in battle. This was a mandatory procedure amongst the Senators, it kept them aware of the numbers lost and furthered their actions to find a quicker resolution for peace.
Padme' put the datapad aside and walked to her bedroom window. Night had fallen and covered the sky in blackness. Only blinking specs of flickering light shone bright across the vast skyline. Though the view was breathtaking, the constant twinkle only added to Padme's throbbing migraine. Placing one hand firmly on her brow, she could sense that she was with fever. Sighing once more, she tugged at her snug corset. Over the past weeks, not only had her headaches grown, but so had her petite figure. The crushed red velvet of her tightly laced bustier seemed to be worn at the seems. There had been no time to exercise the body or the mind, for every moment was spent on the war, not to mention the Galactic Funding as well. To purchase new garments was out of the question and impossible; she would have to make do with the ensembles she already had.
Shrugging off her self pity, Padme' once again lifted the datapad and sat herself at the edge of her bed. Inserting the disk, she took a deep breath and began to scan and scroll through the alphabetical list. Only tears filled her dark, large and usually inquisitive eyes. Though at this moment, there was no contentment for query; only sadness with a glimmer of hope. As she neared the S's her heart nearly jumped; he was alive.
Tossing the pad on the bed, she stood up and walked over to her vanity. There she opened an elaborate jewelry box, its decorative carvings were richly painted in shimmering silvers and gleaming golds. Inside was something more valuable than the riches or splendor of jewels. Just a single, transparent piece of parchment graced its interior. This was all she had of her husband, besides the jappor snipet that encircled her neck. These were the reminders, both bittersweet and prominently painful in her vivid memory. As she grasped the pendant in one hand, she held tightly to the letter in the other. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she read the words she knew by heart, for she had made it a nightly ritual to read them ever since he left.
" My every thought is of you. My every breath is of your essence. Every word I utter will be laced with your name. Every time my heart beats, a vision of your beautiful face will flash before me. You are, to me, the reason for my sole existence; I love you. Wait for me, I will come back. Always, I promise you."
Anakin
As her jagged breath leaves her fatigued body, she is compelled to sit and rest. Slumping down into her vanitys elegantly styled, matching chair, she is stricken with immense pain surging through her abdominal region. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she is horrified by her pallid appearance. Placing her hands upon her lap, she is overcome with fear. Lifting her hands to her face, she grows faint over the sight of her red palms.Surely, this is just a dream or an ill-figment of her over-worked imagination. " No." she softly whispers as she gets up to search for help. Struck by harsh reality of the severity of her pain, Padme' falls to the plush, purple carpeting of her room. Reaching out with her arms, grating at the floor with her fingernails, she screams in horror "Help Me! Dorme'! Please, help me!!" As her eyes begin to flutter shut and complete darkness starts to consume her, she echoes one more time,
" Help me....please...Anakin! "
posted by Viago Angel at 8:10 PM
2 Comments:
The Master wants spoilers?? Not gonna happen my dear, sorry...it would ruin it for ya. smooches for the kudos, Love ya!
Oh, honey - loved this one! Your talent is amazing. Your writing diversity shows that you are not just "all about the sappy stuff;" you can write about war just as easily as about love.
Hmmm....Dorme - get your butt in there!! :)
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