WE LOVED HER

By Emily Ankhesenamun

A Star Wars Fanfiction

A/N: Enjoy... and please review! This is my first Star Wars fanfiction, and my first sobiwan. I would appreciate any feedback! (This is also the first time I've tried anything tragic.) Happy reading!

You were only a child, nine years old, but the war had aged you. You knew what was happening; you had hugged your little sister, comforting her. You pretended everything was fine, but you knew, in your too-old child’s heart, that everything was falling to pieces.

The clones walked down streets of Theed, their armor shining in the light of the sun. Your city was being destroyed — the quiet air of tranquility was gone. Bodies lay in the streets, the bodies of those who had fought the take over. You had heard the gun shots and ran away.

The fountains bubbled as you raced down the red brick road. They were too happy, too cheerful. They stood for everything that was being destroyed. Tears blurred your vision as you ran, the world swimming in front of your eyes.

“Illé,” you heard someone say. Your name. You open your eyes to see your adoptive aunt. Aunt Sabé.

“Aunty,” you sobbed. Aunt Sabé had fought in the Battle of Theed, handmaiden to Queen Amidala, the champion of Naboo. How could she stand this? Aunt Sabé had mourned Senator Amidala, but had stayed strong. She was your role model, your idol. When everyone else had hung posters of the queen in their bedrooms, of her solemn visage, you had chosen a picture of the queen and her handmaidens. You could see Aunt Sabé’s face, the queen’s brave decoy. Ever since you could walk and talk, you had loved Aunt Sabé more than anyone else.

You felt her arms hug you tightly, and you buried your face in her robes. She was beautiful as always, brown hair drawn back out of her delicate face. Her brown eyes were sad, but that was how she had always been. You had wondered what had happened to Aunt Sabé to make her look so sad. You had asked Aunt Sabé, and she had laughed and said, “Oh, Illé, you can’t understand yet. Someday you will, when you fall in love yourself.”

“What’s happening?” you whispered.

“Death of the Republic,” Aunt Sabé said sadly.

“The Jedi,” you said. “They ruined it.”

You were unprepared for Aunt Sabé’s reaction. “No! Listen to me, Illé. The Jedi did nothing. They are heroes, champions of peace.”

Cool fingers touched your chin, and you looked up into Aunt Sabé’s face. “People will say it was the Jedi. They’re lying. Keep silent, say nothing, but know, Illé, that the Jedi did their best to prevent this.”

You nodded. You had heard that the Jedi were heroes, but now, you weren’t sure. But Aunt Sabé’s words had restored your faith in them. If Aunt Sabé said they were good, then they were. She was about to say something more, when you heard the sound of gunshots.

“Hurry,” Aunt Sabé urged, picking you up. “Come on. Listen, Illé,” she whispered. “You must stay away from me.”

Confusion flooded through you. Why?

“They don’t like me. They will kill you if they see you with me.”

“Will they kill you?” Your voice is soft and broken. You don’t want to; you can’t picture Aunt Sabé’s bloody body lying on the cobblestones beneath your feet.

“Yes,” Aunt Sabé said instantly. “They will try. I love you, Illé. Be careful.”

“Sabé Tachi?” a voice calls.

“Go!” Aunt Sabé hissed, and you obeyed instantly, running away as fast as your child’s legs can go. You reached the shadows, and turn around. Your aunt is standing there, her dark blue robes blowing in the gust of wind. She looks like a statue, like the queen she had pretended to be.

Three clone troopers are marching down the street. You backed away, running, heart pounding. Tears were pouring down your face again as you ran through the alleys, hoping not to hear anything.

Gunshots ring through the air, but no one screams. Aunt Sabé was brave. You can’t see; the tears were blinding you. You ran into someone, and prayed it was not a clone trooper.

“Careful, there,” someone says. Seeing your tears, he wipes them away, and you see a brown-cloaked figure.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Not a problem. What’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling down beside you.

You can’t hold back the tears again. “Aunt Sabé — they killed her.”

The man stiffened, you think, though you can’t see him clearly, only his robes.

“Where?” he asked, his voice tense.

You don’t question this. “She told me to run. But —,”

“Don’t worry. Can you show me? I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

He stood up, and as he did, his cloak shifts, just the tiniest bit. You see the silver cylinder. He’s — “A Jedi,” you repeated, wonderingly. “Aunt Sabé said you tried to stop this.”

“Where’s your aunt? I promise nothing will happen. I came to find her, to see if she’s all right.”

Certain that you were safe, you grab his hand, and lead him swiftly back to where you last saw Aunt Sabé. She is still there, but now she is lying on the red bricks, and it is her blood soaking them. You started to let out a cry, but the man claps a hand over your mouth.

“Shh,” he says. “You can’t let them hear you.”

You ran to Aunt Sabé’s side.

“Illé,” she whispered. “Go away, now, before they see you.”

“Aunt Sabé,” you said. There was a wound, a crimson hole, in her chest. She was dying, and you rock back and forth, tears running down your face.

A whisper of cloth, and the man knelt beside your aunt. She has not heard his approach yet. Her eyes are closed, and her hand clenched yours.

“Be careful, Illé,” she whispered.

“I’ll take care of her,” the man murmured to Aunt Sabé. “Sabé.”

Her eyes flew open, and you realized. This is who she loved. You can see it in her eyes. He traced her cheek gently, comfortingly.

“Obi-Wan,” she whispered.

You wanted to cry out, hug Aunt Sabé, and beg her not to die. He kissed her forehead, and her eyes closed. There is a drop of moisture on her cheek, but you don’t know if it was her tear or his.

“I love you,” he murmured to her, and she nods. You hear her breathe, and then you wait for her to let out her air, but she doesn’t. She was silent. You bend your head, watching, as this man strokes her face. He doesn’t cry, but you can feel his pain. Finally, he stood up, and picked up Aunt Sabé’s body. He looked at you.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. You wonder why he is saying sorry to you. He loved her. You should be saying sorry. You nod, though, and swallowed hard. Aunt Sabé loved you more than anyone else. Your mother didn’t. She loved your sister and your brother more. You were never pretty enough, never good enough for her. You never heard her say “I love you”. Aunt Sabé did, but now she is gone.

You look up.

“Please,” you said. “I want to come with you. You loved her. I loved her.”

You can almost tell what he is thinking. He can tell that you are far too old for your nine years, and how this war has changed you.

He smiled sadly. “She loved you, too.”

He shifts the body in her arms, and held out hand for you to hold.

“My new daughter,” he told you, and you grasped his hand. You both loved her.

The End.