May 2006

Disclaimer: It all belongs to Lucas, I make no money off this, etc, etc, etc...

Title: A Dress for Pooja

Author: JadeMax

Timeframe: AU

Characters: Padmé Naberrie

Summary: Vig #2 for the "Padmé chose another profession" challenge - Seamstress

A Dress for Pooja


"Stop squirming."

"Stop poking me. Ouch!"

"If you'd stop squirming I would stop poking you." The rustle of fabric being gathered accompanied the scolding. "I don't know why you have to have this now, Pooja."

"It's for mommy's birthday, Aunty Padmé. The party's tomorrow. Ouch!"

"One more. Hold still already!"

"But it hurts!"

A chuckle at the doorway brought both heads around. Pooja squealed. "Mommy!"

Sola was smiling as she looked at her daughter and her sister. "Aren't you behaving for your Aunt?"

Pooja made a face. "Aunt Padmé keeps poking me." She shifted a little as Padmé was attempting to pin the last of the modifications on the dress. "Ouch!"

Padmé sat back, reaching up to pull her hair off her forehead. "You're done, Pooja."

Pooja jumped down from the stool and ran to stand before the mirror in the corner of her Aunt's room. She preened, turning this way and that. "Do you like it mommy? It looks just like yours!"

Sola smiled indulgently at her daughter, nodding to Padmé. "It does indeed. You look very grown up, Pooja."

Pooja beamed at her mother.

"Pooja." Padmé broke in. "If you'll just slip out of it I can finish the alterations and you can wear it again tonight."

Pooja nodded, disappearing into the 'fresher to change back into her play dress. Sola sat next to Padmé. "Like mine but not. However did you convince her to accept a modified version?"

Padmé irritably pulled the strands off her forehead, taking a sip of the water she'd left nearby. "Pooja asked for them. She said she wasn't a lady yet, so she needed to look like mommy, but not so much that daddy looks at her like he looks at you." She slanted a glance at her sister, amusement dancing in her eyes. "I think she sees more than she lets on."

Sola laughed softly, flushing. "She's very observant. They're growing up so fast."

"Yes, they are." Padmé looked away uncomfortably. She envied her sister her family. She'd wanted one herself, but no man in the village had caught her fancy.

Instead, she'd turned to sewing. She'd become surprisingly good at it, her unique but simple fashions finding their way into high society. With the money she made designing, she was able to purchase cloth and supplies to ensure everyone, every child, in the village had something new. It was that kind of generosity that had earned her the name "Aunty Padmé" from every child. It was that kind of generosity that had made her a welcome addition to any home for a meal.

It was also the reason she was up to her ears in work. All the women wanted at least one new item of clothing, and those that couldn't pay for it, bartered. Either through doing chores, cooking meals or desserts or even doing her gardening. As it was, it left her time to get all those orders finished - and she hadn't had to do a stitch of housework in almost three months.

She'd toyed with the idea of moving away, of exploring to try and find herself a husband, something held her tied to her village. She would have felt incredibly guilty leaving her family and this community that she felt so proprietary of. They looked out for one another here. If she ever left, she knew she'd miss it.

When Pooja appeared, her dress neatly folded over one arm, Padmé turned back, her smile in place once more. "How very lady like." She teased gently, accepting the dress. "That's very responsible of you, Pooja."

Pooja grabbed her mother's hand. "Thanks Aunty Padmé. Come on mommy, I want to show you my new picture!"

Padmé watched as her sister was pulled from the room, a tolerant smile on her face. She tested the fabric in her hands a sighed. She might not have a family of her own, but here at least she felt needed and wanted.

She ducked her head to Pooja's new dress and checked the alterations to ensure they hadn't been disturbed by the little girl's running around. She began to hum softly and set to work, loosing herself in the rhythm of the needle as it moved in and out of the fabric.

No. She might want children of her own, but for now, this was enough.