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‘You are such a girl! I can’t believe this is bothering you so much,’ Kei stated as he laughed. The Jedi Prince scowled and cursed in Huttese as he gave a frustrated sigh.
‘I am not a girl. And I’m only bothered by this because I was Dormé’s plaything, when she should have been mine,’ Anakin lied while trying to ignore the guilt brought on by his statement.
Kei just gave a grin as he chuckled. ‘Girl.’
‘Iquicha you, Kei!’ the Coruscanti prince hissed about to punch the young noble in the face.
Kei swiftly raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘All right, no need to get so excited,’ he remarked a little too quickly to hide his fear as Anakin frowned and glanced away. ‘Besides, we’re not here to fight. We’re here to enjoy ourselves. You’re free now, so why not have some fun? Forget about your handmaiden and get yourself a real woman,’ Kei encouraged.
Anakin visibly bristled at Kei’s remarks about Dormé, but didn’t defend her deciding it was best he didn’t as it would only lead to more mocking and right now, he wasn’t in the mood. Instead, he just furrowed his brow and shook his head.
‘I don’t need a woman right now. I just need some time to unwind, to relax…’ To forget there ever was anything between Dormé and me. Because there was nothing, he mentally added.
But his friend wouldn’t listen and soon was leading him through the colourful streets. The celebrations marking fertility and prosperity for the New Year were well under way by now leaving Anakin feeling more than out of sorts. However, it was his duty as a political representative to observe this holiday during this visit so he reluctantly followed.
As they entered the vast temple, the Jedi prince found himself gratefully distracted by beauty of this place. Pillars over grown with vines and flower decorated the vast halls, while fountains and winding streams of water spread out like veins throughout the vast building. Beautiful women and handsome men moved freely here, with more engaged in less than proper behaviour. Those who weren’t were enjoying other aspects of the celebrations.
‘So what do you think, Anakin?’ the young nobleman asked with a proud grin.
The prince only shrugged as the novelty of beauty had long since worn off for it reminded him far too much of the room he created for Dormé and the events that followed. ‘It’s no different from everywhere else,’ he remarked casually as Kei rolled his eyes and made a face.
‘No, I mean the women!’ the younger noble said, grabbing two glasses of a green liquid Anakin knew to be apsinthos. It was liquor native to Kei’s planet and considered a sacred drink amongst his people. As such, it was reserved for occasions like this one, which normally would suit Anakin just fine as he had long since developed a taste for the potent drink and had ensured the palace on Coruscant had it readily available for him. But without Dormé to enjoy it with it just wasn’t the same.
Even so, he still took the fluted glass while shrugging off the gesture as he glanced around with a look of boredom written all over his face. ‘I’m not really looking,’ he admitted finally. ‘I just don’t see the point of all this. I mean, you don’t really believe this nonsense do you?’
Kei turned serious as he gave Anakin a stern look. ‘I don’t believe your Force nonsense or that you’re its physical manifestation, but at least I have the sense to respect your beliefs.’
Anakin fell silent at that but not for the reasons he should have. His attentions settled on a beautiful priestess who was watching him intently.
Kei, unaware that he had long since lost his friend’s attention, explained the importance of this celebrations of prosperity.
Anakin heard virtually none of it as he held the woman’s amber gaze. Dormé...She looks just like Dormé… he thought in amazement.
‘...The goddess embodies the priestesses, so that during these celebrations they are no longer mortals, but the goddess herself...’
I love you so much, Dormé...I always have. Anakin furrowed his brow.
‘You’re my best friend. I can’t say that I hate the attention and the gifts and the way other handmaidens envy me...but most of all, I’m having fun. I thought we were having fun until—well, your marriage obviously, so that’s it, all right? I was having fun with you—’
Anakin glanced away quickly at this thought as he began to war with himself. It was nothing. You feel nothing. She means nothing to you. Never was and never will be, the prince repeatedly told himself while trying to convince himself to take Kei’s advice. But the woman in the distance was not Dormé, despite her uncanny resemblance and this did little to ease the guilt Anakin felt for even contemplating such thoughts. At the same time, he felt the need to prove to himself he didn’t care and so, taking a large gulp of his drink, he forced his thoughts clear. ‘Who is she?’ the prince began in soft tones as he glanced back to her.
The maiden looked to be about Anakin’s age and held an air of mischievous mystery about her, much like the one Anakin wanted her to be. In fact, the more the Jedi prince studied her, the easier it was to note the similarities between the strange priestess and his former friend and beloved.
Kei just shrugged in reply and gave Anakin a knowing smile. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’ Without another word, Kei soon departed as another beautiful woman had caught his eye.
Left to his own devices, the young prince hardly had a chance to change his mind or turn away when the beautiful priestess approached.
‘You seek solace from the turmoil of your heart,’ she said softly her accent so similar, yet so different from Dormé’s own.
Anakin furrowed his brow as through the Force he could sense the priestess was mildly sensitive to it. Hesitant as though realizing the precipice he stood before, Anakin could only study the woman without replying.
The young woman seemed to understand what couldn’t be said and took his hand. ‘Come with me and she will give you peace,’ she said in equally soft tones as she led Anakin to a small chamber.
The young prince still uncertain hesitated briefly causing the priestess to pause as she glanced back giving him a reassuring smile.
‘Just why are you here, Dormé? Why are you even with me?’
Anakin could feel the young woman attempting to send him soothing thoughts to erase the sorrowful memories her words encouraged. However, she was hardly skilled and thus did little to help. But with the memory of Dormé’s rejection and admittance to lack of feelings, Anakin soon fell prey to his pride.
You are such a girl! Anakin frowned slightly at the memory of Kei’s teasing and in reply gave the priestess’s hand a squeeze, soon joining her side. Sadly, despite his desperate need not to act like other nobles, Anakin found himself behaving no differently.
I expect this kind of iquicha behaviour from my courtiers, not my supposed best friend!
‘Please make yourself comfortable, your grace,’ the young woman softly began.
‘Anakin,’ he corrected. ‘Please call me Anakin Lady—’ he added, burying the memory of how close this moment was to when he first met Dormé those years ago.
‘My name matters not,’ she simply stated as she led Anakin to the centre of the room. Vast and plush pillows decorated the area while plumes of incense smoke floated and hung in the air filling the room with sultry scents. Small fires decorated the open space, as did a variety of exotic plants, fountains of every shape and size, and statuettes of the finest craftsmanship. Soft music played in the background completing the effect and reminding Anakin far too much of the sanctuary that he had only a short time ago presented to Dormé.
It was surreal to say the least and it wasn’t long before Anakin found himself imagining that he was no longer at the temple and that the woman he was with wasn’t a priestess. Though it was still a struggle, as his eyes fell to the plush pillows by his side, he found himself losing his nerve. Even though they were no longer together, he couldn’t help but feel as though he were betraying her memory and their friendship. His eyes drifted to the glass in his hand and Anakin gave a heavy sigh before bringing it to his lips, draining it in a single swallow. She is not mine and I am not hers. I’m free to do as I please, see whom I please, he repeatedly told himself while struggling to ignore his doubts and guilt.
Dormé awoke painfully in a tiny, dim cellar. This reoccurring dream refused to leave her, haunting whatever sleep was able to attain. It hurt far worse than the crick in her neck aches on her cheek and sides were a testament of the torture she endured at the hands of the Separatist. She refused to yield and would continue to refuse until her ransom was paid or, more realistically, they found out who she really was and killed her. It was best that they thought she was Queen Amidala for as long as possible, so that her queen was safe.
Dormé played the part without flaw. The only thing that she knew of that could possibly give her away was the condition of her hands. She had workers hands, not the smooth, unaffected hands of the nobility. This was one of the reasons behind the tradition of royalty having painted white makeup over most of their skin in public and Dormé was especially thankful for it. After days of incarceration, the paint was beginning to fade and she paid special care to hide her hands within her cloak or the folds of her gown whenever possible. They had not yet found out, but it was only a matter of time.
During her studies to become a handmaiden, Dormé learnt that the Separatists attempted to conquer Naboo before, but with the aid of the Jedi, Anakin’s father and stepbrother, they succeeded in driving what was then referred to as the Trade Federation’s droid army off planet. Anakin himself single-handedly destroyed their control ship at the tender age of ten. She remembered that Moteé and Dané began their training during what came to be known as the Naboo Crisis. Prior to her own training, Dormé was oblivious to the Separatists or that they had ever been on Naboo, for she was eight-years-old and working in a textile factory, secluded from such news.
Currently, Dormé had no clue where she was or what events led to this capture. She posed as Amidala on their way back from Coruscant. Her mistress escaped with most of the handmaidens. Two of the security guards were shot down and Dormé, along with two green handmaidens were taken hostage. She was isolated from the other girls and had no idea if they were dead or alive. After thoroughly contemplating her situation and now, being faced with the likelihood of death, she was confronted with regrets of the past. Losing the friendship of the Coruscanti prince was her biggest regret. Thoughts of Anakin permeated her waking mind. For a long time, she recalled their horrible fight, plagued with thoughts of all the things she ought to have said, cursing herself for the things she said instead.
As days wore on, the length of her torture sessions and time in confinement increased. In turn, she fell back on happier memories to cope. For three years, Anakin and she had been friends before the infamous trip to his family’s lakehouse on Delaya when they first became lovers. That was two years ago and, in that time, she never told him that she loved him, even as a friend. No, she had not, even in all that time, admitted to herself that she loved him.
It was only now that Dormé knew when she first fell in love with him.
It was hard to say how the moment came about; it certainly was the last thing Dormé had expected upon the prince’s invitation to go with him to his parents’ lakehouse on Delaya. Anakin was responsible for starting it with his timid, unexpected kiss. She had been friends with him since she was thirteen and had no idea that his feelings had surpassed friendship. Even as they shared their first kiss, she still did not know when he said ‘girlfriend’ he meant that he wished to court her with intentions to marry. She was, after all, only sixteen at the time and he, eighteen.
Here, five years after their first meeting, sitting in this Separatist cell, Dormé could not help regretting how they last parted.
‘Just why are you here, Dormé? Why are you even with me?
She had been almost cruel in her denials of affection. She cursed herself for not admitting the truth she had been avoiding so long out of fear.
‘No one believed me when I told them that we were real, that this was no game to us, that I was serious. I defended you, Dormé. I stood up for you, but in the end, they were right all along.’
She did not understand why she was so afraid to fully let him in, why she was afraid of trusting him. He had never betrayed her trust. He had always been honest about his feelings and intentions. If only she would have been honest with him!
It was so easy for her mind to wander and Dormé’s thoughts kept returning to their time on Delaya. She recalled their light-hearted teasing, the gorgeous gardens, the lake, the rain…but inevitably, she longed for the feel of his hands caressing her, tangling in her hair, lying contently in his arms as though nothing existed outside of their room. How could she have been so blind? Gods help her, she was in love with him; she had been for so long. Why couldn’t she have just told him instead of lying to his face and to herself? Now he would never speak to her again and she would end her life in this Separatist camp, dying a martyr for her queen, without being able to tell him how she truly felt. But even if she did get that chance, would he believe her?
‘Perhaps you could let me teach you to fly.’
They succeeded at least to some extent that first evening. It was not until morning that she realised the damage they had done to the room, not to mention the battle wounds she had given Anakin, which she felt bad about. There had been misunderstandings, confusion, uncertainty, and frustration, but none of it mattered in the end since, albeit slowly, they finally figured it out.
Over the years much practise followed and with the aid of Moteé’s advice she used a few different techniques which made it all the better. However, amidst the long conversations with the prince about everything and nothing and their sessions of kissing and holding each other, their relationship was under constant scrutiny. She had only thought he was a friend, that despite his words, he would eventually have to leave her for the queen since he was betrothed to her. But the last time she saw him, when he told her he loved her, she did not reply.
‘I love you so much, Dormé...I always have...’
He told her he did not want to marry anyone else except Dormé. She refused to believe him out of fear of getting her hopes up. She would have lied to him, but she could not, so she just pushed him away. Now she was here and regretting it so fiercely. She vowed if she got out of this prison alive, she would tell him and she would not care about the consequences.
Clutching her chest, she felt as though she could not breathe as sobs overwhelmed her body. She had not cried this hard in her life, not even after they broke up. Her queen, it seemed, had expected they would end their relationship. It hurt to think just how little people thought of them. In truth, it was almost offensive and she received little sympathy. She tried to forget about it, to forget about him. She even listened to Moteé and went to a club with her. She drank too much and nearly had sex with another man, but she could not go through with it. She had been warring against herself and now that she knew the truth, she thought it was too late. She would probably die here and never get the chance to tell him.
Thinking they had finally broke the Nabooan royal, the Separatists holding her thought it would be a prime time to question her once more. Two of them entered her cell, hauling the petite woman up by the elbows. They taunted the queen all the way to the torture chamber
It was no use trying to hide her hands anymore. With the ripped and stained gown, the marks of their brutality over ever inch of her skin, she looked like nothing more than a beggar, a street-rat, the type of girl she once was before being admitted to Theed palace. Dormé knew what it was like to live with nothing, but to have something, to live such a life as she had, to have that and then have it taken away, it was painful. What she did not know was that in the future, she would look back on this moment, thinking just how little she knew of loss.
Upon taking a deep drink of the potent mixture, he offered it back to the priestess who now sat beside him. With amber eyes that never left his own, she drank from the goblet. This continued between them until the goblet was empty. The drugged drink didn’t take long to take effect and soon Anakin’s thoughts became nothing more than a fusion of emotions and sensations. It was wondrous and liberating to his inexperienced mind and for a moment, he was rendered speechless. It was as though he had been blind all his life only to have his eyes opened for the very first time. Everything seemed that much more vibrant, colourful, and alive. Though the Force, Anakin felt as though everything pulsated and breathed with a life of its own. The soft sound of a giggle, musical yet electric, drew Anakin’s attention and brought a smile to his lips.
‘How do you feel, my lord?’ a voice purred behind him.
Lord? the title sounded utterly absurd to the hallucinating prince who just snickered in reply. Though the pain still remained over the loss of his best friend, the drugs and alcohol numbed his heavy heart, making it so he could no longer quite remember what was bothering him in the first place. Her words danced along his thoughts, as did her fingers over his soon to be exposed chest. Anakin furrowed his brow at her touch and felt his thoughts scattered. Torn between his wish to pretend and his guilt of betrayal, he remained frozen, ignoring the electricity of the priestess’s touch. But the more he watched her, the harder it was to separate the fact that this wasn’t Dormé, that this was another person entirely.
In the end, his hands slipped around her waist and his mouth move to kiss hers. Though part of him longed to pull away, he was too weak and so desperately he closed his eyes continued to embrace the stranger, while imagining that it was Dormé who was in his arms, that is was she who murmured incantations between their kisses in a language not entirely unlike Uriashian. He had no idea what she was saying, but he didn’t care much either. In his mind, it was Dormé he held, not a stranger and as he opened his eyes, to his utter joy, it suddenly was.
Yet as he studied his beloved intently, the young prince began to notice subtle differences between this Dormé and the Dormé who was no longer his friend and love. This Dormé was darker somehow; her Force signature normally bright and clear was riddled with inky black tendrils. Her eyes too were more jaded and cunning. Nevertheless, Anakin was hardly fazed, for all he knew was that his beloved had returned to him. ‘Dormé,’ he breathed in joy as he moved to touch her cheek. ‘How have I’ve missed you.’
The strange Dormé gave a predatory grin as she studied him fiercely. ‘My lord, I have returned,’ she murmured in accented Basic that was far more seductive and sinister than the prince had ever heard coming from Dormé’s lips.
Anakin purred in agreement, as he eagerly kissed the doppelganger of Dormé. Thank the Force, you have. Had he been more attentive to Kei’s words, Anakin might have been aware of the legend that surrounded these events or rather the reason the goddess embodied her priestesses. It was so that she could, albeit briefly, reunited with her estranged lover, one of the gods of the underworld, who had been punished for his relationship with the elemental goddess of water and rain. His punishment forced him to live the life of a mortal man; to experience life only to have it repeatedly stolen away. The legend further explained that the goddess had snuck away and possessed a priestess. From there she was united with her lover with the end result of their union being the birth of a demigoddess.
But in the young prince’s befuddled mind, the woman before him was a goddess of a far more personal sort. Yet when the darker Dormé spoke of him being her dark lord, Anakin began to notice something was wrong. The darker Dormé was passionate to say the least, but the more Anakin succumbed, the more he desired. The more he lost himself to her embrace, the more afraid he became. It took him a moment to register that the fear he felt was not coming from the Dormé in his arms or himself. He distinctly knew without question it was Dormé’s fear that he was feeling. Confused by this, Anakin moved to withdraw from the woman he had been passionately enjoying moments earlier.
It was then that he realized he couldn’t let her go. The black tendrils that decorated her Force signature now enveloped him. To his growing horror, he soon realised that there were black tendrils extending from him as well, so that while hers wrapped around his body, his was wrapping around hers. The tendrils stuck to his skin and the young prince could only watch in horror. Panicked, he continued to struggle, desperately trying to pull away but to no avail. Crying out, he continued his struggle only to find himself locking lips with the apparition of Dormé who eagerly kissed him.
‘You are mine. Now and always,’ she spoke into his thoughts as Anakin screamed in fear while desperately trying to touch the light side of the Force. But the more he tried, the tighter the black tendrils that bound them together became until both the prince and the doppelganger were entirely entangled by it. Only when his entire form was encased in the tar like substance did Anakin register that the dark Dormé had long since departed, leaving in her wake the battered form of the real Dormé in his arms.
Though both were entrapped by the inky blackness, the prince could still see that Dormé’s body was covered in welts and cuts. She bled profusely and her form was limp and cold in his arms, leaving Ankain with the terrifying realisation that she was dead. Filled with despair, utter sorrow and shame, he cried out Dormé’s name before sobbing as he begged her forgiveness, pleading with the Force to return his beloved to him. But the darkness can never give, just as the light can never take, so only silence answered his desperate pleas. As the inky blackness began to consume the broken hearted prince’s conscious, he could swear that he heard the sound of a woman’s dark giggles.
Awakening some time later Anakin found himself in a state of painful confusion. Nauseated and feeling as though his head was caving in on itself, he soon registered his location though couldn’t quite remember how he got here. Sprawled about the embroidered pillows in a nearly naked state, his eyes took it all in before glancing to his side where he saw the lifeless form of the priestess.
Panicked, Anakin sat up quickly only to regret the sudden move as his thoughts garbled, incoherent and blurred demanded he depart. Rising to his feet, he struggled with the painful effects of his hangover while trying to recall all that had happened. As his eyes studied the lifeless form at his feet, Anakin’s thoughts immediately turned to Dormé. A rush of shame flooded his thoughts as well as fear. Though the events of the night wasn’t entirely forgotten, it wasn’t entirely clear to Anakin either. For the young prince, it all felt like a hazy blur or a lucid dream, everything, save for the image of Dormé’s lifeless form.
Though still disorientated, the prince couldn’t shake the powerful imagery of his beloved’s death, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. For the possibility was far too painful and frightening to consider. Yet as the young prince swiftly gathered his belongings, his sense of fear for his friend’s safety grew steadily worse until his entire mind was consumed by thoughts of Dormé being in danger and possibly dying. Fearful for her safety and cursing himself for being so weak, the young prince promptly rushed out of the chambers, leaving behind the lifeless priestess. Though he was blatantly lost, the young prince stopped at nothing until he was out of the temple and after some time, entering his ship The Tempest. Plagued by fear and concern for his beloved, the Jedi prince departed, not caring of the disaster he had left behind or the nightmare that awaited him.
Frustrated with her, they brought in her two handmaidens, who believed as well that Dormé was the queen, they threatened to kill them, but even then, Dormé refused. They shot the two handmaidens without second thought.
Dormé remained placid despite the death of the inexperienced handmaidens who thought they had died for their queen.
There were so many different techniques of torture that the Separatists had used over the past few weeks. These would be imbedded within her psyche for years to come and she would come to use them later. She was doused with cold water and sent electrical shocks.
Later, she was having a hard time remaining conscious, but they would not give up.
‘What frightens you, Amidala? We will find out what that is…’
They didn’t lie, however, it was not in a way they expected. One of the Separatist leaders happened to be a Geonosian and she was deathly afraid of insectoids. When the leader checked with those torturing her, finding out they were having no luck even after slaughtering her handmaidens in front of her, Dormé passed out from fear.
When she awoke later, she was still strung up though no longer soaking wet. She coughed, her head bobbing slightly in an effort to raise it, though it was incredibly painful.
‘Welcome back, Queen Amidala,’ came the pompous voice of Count Dooku.
Dormé didn’t reply.
Igniting his lightsaber, Dooku sliced her ropes so that she fell in front of him, coughing.
‘It’s strange,’ he continued. ‘We haven’t heard anything from your government. Which leads me to believe that you are not in fact Queen Amidala.’
The way he looked at her made Dormé uncomfortable. It was like he was looking straight through her.
‘So if you are not the queen, then you no longer serve a purpose for us…’ His lightsaber glowed dangerously close to her throat.
In the end, his fear for Dormé’s safety overrode all else and playing up his role as a Jedi, Anakin demanded to know all the details pertaining to the queen’s abduction. Fortunately for him, Saché proved most helpful and gave him what information she knew, though it was obvious, even to Anakin, that Saché knew whom he was truly seeking. He was most grateful that she didn’t say anything about it.
‘Her exact location still remains undetermined and despite our attempts to rescue her there has been no success. It has been almost three weeks since the abduction...’
As he entered the wiring tunnels of the Separtatist’s makeshift headquarters, he tried to ignore the memory of Saché’s cryptic words or the exhaustion and concern that riddled her features. He didn’t need to ask the older handmaiden if she had done much work on finding Dormé, for he had little doubt the older woman had stopped her search. There were clues everywhere that marked her work. Every contact he tried to reach had informed him of the information she had given him, just as every coordinate he thought would speed up his search only marked the accuracy of her words. To say she had been thorough was an understatement.
In the end, he had one thing Saché didn’t: Force sensitivity and it was this that had now brought him to this place. The tunnels were winding and all looked the same but Anakin, exhausted from his own relentless search over the past few days, had little trouble finding the way to her cell. Her Force signature was weak and riddled with pain. This did little to hide her location, despite the traps that had been set up to sabotage and distract attempts for a rescue.
The Separatists themselves, though trained, were in reality, more civilian guerrilla fighters than soldiers and stood little chance against his skill with a blade. Had his thoughts been clearer and less distracted by his guilt and shame, Anakin could have easily spared their lives by using a mind tricks. But this hardly played on his conscious as he couldn’t help but curse himself for not sensing her danger sooner. Swiftly removing the two guards before they could call for back up, Anakin used one of the corpse’s handprints to permit entry. The sight that would greet him would give him nightmares of guilt for years to come.
Speechless, he took in the sight before him, forcing his thoughts to clear as he knew time wasn’t on his side. To his great luck, the count was far too distracted by his discovery to bother sensing that they were no longer alone. But Anakin was inexperienced and far too cocky to register the danger posed to him if he wasn’t careful.
Dormé pulled herself up to her knees.
So this was how it would end, at the hand of the count. Very well, Dormé thought. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her eyes when he killed her. Bowing her head, she prepared herself for the end. She hoped she had at least bought her queen some time.
Dooku could tell from the shift in her Force signature that this woman was nothing more than a decoy and didn’t hesitate before aiming to slice her head off.
Coming to his senses, Anakin activated his lightsaber with unnatural swiftness and moved to block the Count’s lightsaber that drew dangerously close to Dormé’s throat.
Dooku was shocked to find himself blocked by the Jedi Padawan he loathed more than anyone, the cocky Jedi Prince, Anakin Skywalker. He didn’t buy into the prophesy deeming Anakin the Chosen One. He envied his political position, his status within the Order, and the attention he received. He taunted the Jedi Prince who was stupidly here to save someone who wasn’t even the real queen. He cackled as they sparred, no longer caring about the handmaiden and eager to punish this Jedi Prince.
The young prince scowled at the count as he struggled to control his anger as the older Sith Lord mocked him. His movements were swift and calculating, but Anakin was only a Padawan and in the end his lack of experience as well as his pride would be his greatest downfall.
When she heard the crackling of the two lightsabers meeting, she coughed and looked up. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. There was no way this was possible, but she allowed herself to buy into the dream, watching Anakin fight the count.
As the lightsabers danced and crackled the young prince’s eyes flickered from time to time to Dormé as he tried to think of a way to help her escape without placing her life at first risk. The task would cost him more than he bargained for. Dormé, brace yourself. I’m going to break your restraints, he whispered into her thoughts as the battle continued to unfold. The count found this to be entirely amusing and treated their battle as though he were sparring with a youngling. It was frustrating to Anakin but it wasn’t until he used the Force to free Dormé from her restraints did the Count decide to end this little game.
Though she barely registered Anakin speaking into her thoughts, Dormé’s legs and wrists were suddenly free from their bindings, clattering to the floor next to her. It wasn’t until the count severed Anakin’s hand, causing a sharp pain to rush into Dormé’s own right hand—throbbing agonizingly—that she knew this was no dream.
Anakin having been caught off guard by his distractions to help Dormé soon found himself unable to block Dooku’s elegant but simple attack. When the young Padawan moved to block the elder Sith’s attack, it wasn’t his lightsaber that met the man’s blade but his right hand. Such pain was unknown to him and Anakin screamed out in horror as he felt his hand separate from his body as searing and burning pain ripped up his arm. Then without another chance to react he felt his feet losing its grip on the ground as the Count gave a smirk and sent him flying into the far wall with a Force attack.
‘Anakin!’ she screamed. Surveying her options, she grabbed Anakin’s fallen lightsaber which was within her grasp.
Slamming hard against the wall, Anakin’s breath was knocked out of him and as his body fellt o the floor in a heap he struggled to remain conscious only to fall prey to the inky blackness. ‘I’m sorry I failed you, Dormé...’ he murmured in despair before fully losing consciousness.
Dooku was preoccupied taunting the unconscious form of Anakin as he moved to leave, knowing if he stayed, he would be far too tempted to kill the Jedi Prince.
Dormé attempted to activate the lightsaber, but gave up and hurled it at the back of the count’s head.
Had the count’s thoughts not been so preoccupied with the dark side, he would have easily deflected the attack. Instead, the metal hit him at just the right angle, knocking him unconscious.
Despite her body’s broken state, Dormé was far more concerned about Anakin than listening to her body’s protests. ‘Anakin...’ she said, rushing over to him. Touching his cheek, she tried to rouse him.
‘Anakin, please wake up...’ She tried once more, hearing the Count shifting as though about to regain consciousness himself. She knew she couldn’t defeat the count and they needed to get out of there quickly. Dormé kissed Anakin on the lips.
The last thing he remembered was Dormé calling out his name before everything went black. But almost as quickly as he blacked out—or so it felt—the young prince was coming to only to discover he was now locking lips with Dormé. His eyes widen in surprise as it took him a moment to realise this was no dream or fantasy and forgetting himself he moved to slip an arm around her to deepen the kiss.
When Anakin began returning her kiss, her eyes widened, incredibly grateful that he was conscious, but also aware of their need to get out of there. She would be no match for the Sith lord. ‘Anakin, we’ve got to get out of here, but you have to help me!’ She pulled him up into her arms.
Fortunately for him, Dormé’s thoughts were far more focused on the present and at her words, Anakin moved to sit up only to whimper in pain as he attempted to use his now handless arm. Dormé moved quicker than he did and soon he found himself being pulled up and with her help he was soon on his feet. As his thoughts promptly cleared he took in the sight of his missing hand and soon began to panic. This was hardly the rescue plan he had in mind and with his thoughts entirely consumed by his missing limb the young prince didn’t even properly register the fact it was the battered and badly beaten Dormé he was to save.
Cursing profusely in Huttese, he struggled to regain some semblance of control over his fears and rage for he could sense the Sith Lord beginning to awaken through the Force. He tried his best not to look at his missing appendage to muster the nerve to at the very least collect his lightsaber but it was hard and the more his eyes flittered to the hand the worst his panicked thoughts became.
‘Anakin, focus! I need you with me so we can get out of here.’ Dormé tried to get the prince to stop looking at his severed hand because it was not helping in their escape. ‘Anakin!’ Dormé yanked him at his waist on the right side of his body where he no longer had a hand, pushing him towards the exit while struggling against the aches in her own body. None of it would matter if they didn’t make it out of this place alive.
Her voice drew his thoughts somewhat to the present and her words aided him to a degree in reminding him of their delicate situation thus enabling him to grab his lightsaber. But his panic still lingered at the edge of his thoughts and it wasn’t until Dormé yanked him at the waist causing him to cry out -for his ribs ached from making contact with the wall. But before he had a chance to reply or register that Dormé was now the one rescuing him—despite her weakened and wounded state—Anakin found himself being pushed towards the exit. Unfortunately, only one thing remained clear to him -he still needed his missing hand. ‘My hand!! I have to get my echuta hand!’ he hissed in obvious panic not quite understanding or even registering the fact it was of little use to him now.
‘Forget your haramu hand!’ she hissed at him as she began yanking him down the hallway. ‘Be thankful you didn’t lose anything else of value! I am most certainly not marrying a man without his birku! Now let’s go!’
Confused at first, the count began to rouse, unaware what happened to cause him to lose consciousness. Seeing the handmaiden and young Skywalker had escaped, he commed the ones originally holding her, ordering the droids to hunt them down. He didn’t really care about the handmaiden or that she escaped since she was not Amidala, but his anger only increased from wounded pride.
Anakin’s eyes widened as she began to yank him down the hallway about to stammer out a panicked reply until he caught her next words. For a moment, he froze in place not understanding what a birku was, but catching the rest as a goofy grin crept into his features. ‘So that means you will marry me!’ he balked in joy before a the battle droids began to fire snapping him back to reality as he began to follow her quickly once more.
Dormé didn’t catch Anakin’s joyous exclamation because she was a little sidetracked trying to figure out where they were and how they were going to escape. Anakin was slowing them down and it wasn’t until the droids began firing at them that he seemed to come back to reality. She asked about his ship and he finally took charge of the situation. ‘Where’s your ship?!’ Dormé demanded, knowing they were in no condition to fight anyone.
However it was only at Dormé’s demand did the young prince finally register that he was in actuality the one who was meant to save her. His cheeks burned at the thought but he didn’t dwell on it too long as this was hardly the time for such thoughts. ‘This way,’ he said quickly before moving to lead her to his ship that was tucked away in one of the less used tunnels.
Once they arrived to the Tempest Anakin found himself on familiar grounds and was able to once more fully regain his lost control. This was in reality his first ‘real’ mission without his brother and while he was eager to prove himself to Dormé in the end it was Dormé who proved herself to be the more competent of the two. The thought was an embarrassing one to say the least but right now his main concern was ensure Dormé’s safety and their safe escape.
It wasn’t until they reached his ship that Dormé breathed a sigh of relief. Once having boarded the ship, Dormé collapsed, having reached her limit and knowing Anakin would be able to get them the rest of the way, even if it was one-handed.
The pain she experienced from her torture returned to Anakin, as well as the pain from his most recent wound, but adrenaline ensured he didn’t focus too much on it. Having placed Dormé in as comfortable position as he could in his small ship, Anakin began his escape to safety. Though he was one-handed, the young pilot’s natural skill proved invaluable and despite the constant fire that showered the ship, Anakin was able to make the escape. They were tracked for some time, but in the end, the prince was able to evade the Separatists and after some time, they returned to Coruscant with the intent of getting their wounds looked at.
Dormé was able to sleep most of the way due to the immense relief that Anakin was here with her. The rest did not last long, for despite Anakin’s flying abilities, it was still a jostling journey and after awhile, she awoke with a crick in her neck. It wasn’t nearly as bad as awaking in the cell she had been in for weeks. Though she tried to make herself comfortable enough to fall back asleep, she found it was no use.
Though they had a bit of a ways to go Anakin could feel Dormé stirring and felt her pain growing. He wished his ship was bigger so she could at least rest comfortably and recover a little. But this was not possible and as she struggled to make herself comfortable, the young prince gave her an apologetic look. ‘I’m sorry. This was hardly the sort of rescue I had in mind,’ he admitted sheepishly.
Aside from the one time the Separatists thought they had broken her, Dormé had not given in to her emotions. Even as Anakin’s attentions turned to her, lamenting the pitiful excuse for a rescue attempt and moving to massage her neck, Dormé was still in a hardened mode as though expecting another catastrophe to strike.
Setting the ship into auto pilot at their destinations coordinates the young prince then slipped his hand to her neck as he moved to massage the crick out. It was only then he was able to fully take note of her current state and the image was something he would never forget. ‘...I’m sorry,’ he murmured again feeling terrible for not coming sooner.
It wasn’t until she saw the look in his eyes as he apologised, knowing what he truly meant in the apology: that he ought to have come sooner to prevent a good portion of her injuries, Dormé’s eyes filled with tears. It wasn’t entirely from the torture she had endured, but of the realisation that came to her during those long days in her cell. ‘Anakin... I’m so sorry... The way I left you—I will never forgive myself...if I don’t tell you the truth...’ she began, swallowing the lump in her throat.
The sight of Dormé’s amber eyes shining with tears made his heart ache as shame flooded his thoughts. If only he could have come sooner, if only he hadn’t been so distracted by his own need to move on. He bowed his head at the thought as he realized this would be something he’d never be able to forgive himself for. Little did he realise that this was but the beginning of his regrets. He wished there could be more that he could do for a simple apology sounded weak even to his own ears, but Dormé understood all that he could not say and began to speak her regrets as well. Falling silent, he listened to her intently with a look of guarded hope. He had already convinced himself that their relationship was utterly destroyed but at her words the young prince couldn’t help but cling to the idea that just maybe their friendship could be repaired. Anything beyond that would was just far too impossible and too wondrous to dare consider. Dormé had made it painfully clear to him that she did not regard him in the same light as he regarded her. Her voice faltering as her emotions ran high caused Anakin’s to mirror her own. Biting his lip, the young prince found himself struggling with his own thoughts as he wanted to beg her forgiveness to tell her that he never meant to hurt her with his words, that if she wanted to just remain friends, he would be all right with that.
‘Anakin, I was afraid. I don’t know...I just...You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down and I just—I love you, I do...’ It didn’t come out at all like she intended, but it was finally out there.
For a moment, he could only stare at her in hopeful disbelief as though fearing that he either didn’t hear her correctly or that this was just another dream brought on by wishful thinking. But through the Force, he could sense her emotions and knew that this was not just his imagination. A slow grin crept into his features as he studied her intently before suddenly pulling her into as tight a bear hug as he could in his wounded state. Dormé was never one who spoke openly of her feelings, so whenever she did open up, it was because it was something of great importance to her. Upon remembering her wounds he promptly loosened his grip as his cheeks burned with embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean...It’s just...nevermind, I just forgot myself,’ he admitted sheepishly though he was grinning from ear to ear.
Dormé was pleased when he responded so joyfully, however, even with one arm, his embrace was painful do to her injuries. Though she was happy too, she couldn’t help flinching slightly in his embrace and was glad he took notice without her having to say anything. ‘It’s OK,’ she replied, also smiling.
Growing more serious he withdrew from the tight embrace to gently touch her cheek as he studied her with eyes that shone with open affection and love. He was too caught up in the moment to remember Dormé didn’t speak Huttese. ‘Foo chuba weeteebah, dobra mosh wok,’ he murmured softly in his native tongue before leaning in to gently kiss her lips.
Had the moment not turned very serious, she would have teased him for using Huttese, asking if he was saying something inappropriate to her, but with the look in his eyes, she did not dare ruin the moment. Dormé wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back slowly with gentle, attentive passion. Despite her wounds, she could not have pictured a more romantic moment if she tried. Everything was finally as it should be and she could not be happier. During all the time she was in the Separatists camp, Dormé never thought she would be given the chance to tell Anakin how she truly felt and to be here now, in his arms, within the cramped quarters of The Tempest. She barely paid her injuries any mind, let alone the fact her own hand ached where Anakin no longer had his. Just to be able to be here was a miracle, one she did not take for granted. If asked, she wouldn’t have been able to tell how many hours they spent kissing on their way back to Coruscant.
Feeling her arms around him the young prince suddenly forgot the pain of his missing hand or the wounds that was not entirely his own. Neither could he recall the fact they were far from home and in the cramped confines of The Tempest. For a time, his entire universe existed entirely of Dormé and he couldn’t have been happier. For the entirety of their journey, Anakin found himself lost in Dormé’s embrace and kisses leaving him feeling as though he had entered a heaven of another sort. It was only when the ship’s computer announced they were entering Coruscant’s atmosphere that he even vaguely gathered his thoughts and very reluctantly returned to the task of landing their ship.
Dormé remained close to her beloved as he gracefully landed the ship with one hand. If she had ever been amazed at his flying skills, this definitely proved it. As the two of them were incredibly impatient, it was no wonder that they wanted to make their relationship officially as soon as possible. Dormé insisted her wounds could be examined later, but Anakin’s concern for her convinced her she ought to be properly looked at. In the end, they were both admitted to the closest medical facility. Word of the prince and Queen Amidala’s safe return soon reached the officials of state, however, by the time their location was received, Anakin and Dormé had long since departed the medical facility to attend to the matter of their wedding.
Anakin was as eager if not more so than Dormé to get married but despite his impatience to make everything official he had enough sense to ensure his beloved had her wounds tended to first. ‘After all,’ he gently teased, ‘it wouldn’t do to have you collapsing during the ceremonies.’ His own wounds were also tended to and initially the young prince couldn’t help but be fascinated by his new mechanical hand, for anything mechanical always fascinated him. But the more he studied the device, the more forlorn and concerned he became. Despite the fact it was a technological work of art, Anakin couldn’t ignore the fact it was also extremely alien, nor could he quite forget the fact that he wasn’t entirely human anymore. He feared that Dormé would have second thoughts about marrying him because of this complication.
Anakin’s new mechanical appendage hardly bothered Dormé. In fact, she was glad he chose to have the operation instead of being a coward like Captain Typho who refused to get a replacement for his inoperable eye which he lost during the Separatist attack on Naboo. She didn’t think of it as making him less of a man and was honestly so glad to be alive and with him that anything else mattered little. ‘Even if you were almost all machine, I would still know you as Anakin and love you just the same,’ she assured him when she noticed the uncertainty in his expression.
Anakin’s heart soared at Dormé’s gentle words that completely erased the last of his doubts and fears over his hand. Deep down, he knew she wouldn’t be bothered by it but hearing it from her aloud was a reassurance he would never forget, leaving the young groom more than eager to begin the ceremony or more importantly to get it over with so he could properly enjoy his wife. It had been too long since they were last together and given how poorly things ended between them on that fateful day, Anakin was more than impatient to put it behind them.
The small ceremony was far from the lavish spectacle Dormé dreamt of, but she was far too eager to care. She would become Anakin’s wife, he, her husband, and someday, the Empire would be theirs to rule. It would be an understatement to say that during their ceremony, they could barely keep their hands off each other. The few weeks apart, viewing their relationship as over, had a profound effect on the pair and were, to say the least, reluctant to let each other go.
Needless to say being in such close proximity to his wife-to-be and not being able to touch her was a lost cause from the start. As such, Anakin paused only long enough between passionate embrace and kisses to recite the verses required of him.
The ceremony seemed to take far too long for Dormé who, from the moment she revealed her heart to him in The Tempest, regarding him as her husband. She hardly remembered what lines they were required to say, let alone what the officiator looked like as she was preoccupied staving off her desires to retire home with Anakin.
Nevertheless, the ceremony eventually reached its end and though it was only the beginning of the many required of them, Anakin already regarded Dormé as his wife. Even before the ceremony, the young prince had already begun the preparations necessary to have her belongings brought to the palace that was now to become her new home. No one would ever stand in their way. Everyone would have to recognise the seriousness of their commitment to each other and their future Empire. If he were ever asked about the details, he would only be able to offer a blank stare in reply. All he remembered of it was the taste of Dormé’s lips and just how happy they both were when they learnt that it was over and they officially they were married. To have the entire galaxy learn of their union was well worth having to undergo the ceremony that seemed more like a blissful dream now than anything else.
Dormé made contact with Saché, telling her the good news and not even bothering to tell of the death of the other two handmaidens who accompanied her or even how she escaped, or rather was ‘saved’ by Anakin. She didn’t allow Saché any time for questions either, for she switched off her commlink as Anakin and she entered the Imperial Palace. There were no regrets or ill thoughts anymore as she entered the rooms he had built for her.
Having retired to her chambers, Anakin was pleased to see that not only had the rest of the plants arrived but so did her belongings. Everything was as it should be and as he found himself in bed with his wife—even now thinking of her in this way left him light-headed with joy—Anakin couldn’t help but thank the Force, the gods, and all the powers that be for blessing him with such a wonderful friend and love.
Despite how much they wanted to make love, they were incredibly exhausted from everything that had happened over the past few weeks. She ended up falling asleep, holding him tightly.
As his beloved held him close and drifted to sleep it wasn’t long before he was doing the same despite his wish to watch her a little while longer. Never in his life had he known such a peaceful rest as he felt in Dormé’s arms. The thought of being able to do this every night and wake up to her arms every morning until the end of his days was almost too overwhelming to consider. For despite all of his money, rank, and powers, in the young prince’s mind, there was no greater gift than this. Unfortunately, it would be some time before everyone else would come to understand what they knew deep down was meant to be all along. And it would be because of this that their struggles were only about to begin.
Rabé was surprised to hear of this and didn’t believe it until Prince Anakin’s servants arrived in the handmaidens’ quarters to remove Dormé’s things. She gasped in shock at the news before swiftly telling the other handmaidens what just happened. She wondered what sort of effect this would have on the Coruscanti-Naboo relations and whether this meant Naboo would not, in fact, become part of the Empire.
When Saché first heard the news from Rabé she couldn’t help but believe this was by far the most warped prank ever played on her yet. She knew that Dormé had a mischievous side but this was just too much. She tried to laugh it off when Rabé spilled the news but at the sight of servants departing with Dormé’s things her expression turned to concern. Though she was utterly relieved to know that Dormé was safe she still feared for the young woman whom she saw as a surrogate sister.
‘By the gods, this better be a joke or someone’s going to have some serious explaining to do,’ she snapped to a very worried looking Sabé who had just discovered the news herself. ‘She’s far too young to be running off with that overgrown baby and lets face it the girl can do much better!’
‘No one is ever good enough for Dormé in your opinion, Saché,’ came Rabé’s teasing remark to which the elder handmaiden just folded her arms and nodded in agreement. ‘Of course not she is my protégé after all and anyone who is good enough to train with me is definitely too good for that louse,’ she only semi-teased.
But upon receiving Dormé’s message later, Saché found herself utterly speechless. This was no joke and it was completely obvious that her protégé had no idea just how in over her head she was. However before she had a chance to ask about the other handmaidens, who even now she was trying to find information on, or ask if Dormé had completely lost her mind, the connection between them was closed.
‘What in the gods has possessed you to do this, Dormé? Are you utterly mad? Nevermind, there’s no question of that anymore,’ she muttered at the empty screen before giving a deep sigh. Saché knew that Padmé would have to know about this and she utterly dreaded the fact that she would most likely be the one who’d have to inform her.
A/N: Coming up, the emperor and empress are far from impressed...
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