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Drowning
The nausea hit her like a fist, like it had yesterday, and the day before. She could feel her handmaidens staring at her, their eyes boring into her, she could feel their conclusion of her symptoms projecting towards her, the unwanted answer to an unwanted question and it suffocated her.
“Leave me, I want to be alone” she gasped breathlessly.
“My lady, I do not think it is wise for you to be left alone” replied Ellé her voice filled with concern for the woman she respected as a leader and loved as a friend.
“I wish to be alone, please inform Senator Organa that I will be unable to meet with him, tell him……I have been contacted by the Queen and urgent trade business has arisen, but I will speak with him shortly, now leave me.” Despite her physical weakness; the sweat on her brow and the slumped figure, her voice rang firm and her maidens bowed before departing, knowing that she would not be argued with.
I am becoming more and more skilled at lying……..to my colleagues…… my Queen….my friends….my family.
Her thoughts jolted back to her childhood, when life had been so simple, lying was wrong, then as she had became older the boundaries of right and wrong had become more blurry, more watered: lying was acceptable if you are lying to save someone’s feeling from being hurt, and now her life was immersed in them and this sent a shock of self-revulsion coursing through her like electricity. Sometimes she felt she was in a sea of lies, simultaneously drowning in them and yet the waves they created held her up, kept her afloat.
Another wave of sickness engulfed her, she lay back on the couch, the sickness consumed her, she was becoming more breathless, breathing faster and faster, her dress was too tight, it was too hot, she could not breathe it was making her sink. She undid the brooch fastening at the top, and removed the heavy velvet outer-garment of her gown, letting it fall from her shoulders, leaving the silken undergarment remaining. She leant forward, and grasped the glass of water left by Ellé, and drank, drank deeply, feeling every drop run down her throat….. trying to wash the sickness away…..wash the falseness of her life away.
People say that politicians always lie, and I always thought that I could be…..no, that I would be different, but they were right.
I am worse than the average politician- I don’t lie to the public- I lie to the people that are in my life, that are my life. I disgust myself…..I lie to the people that make me, Sola, Obi-wan, Bail, everybody.
She stood up, inhaling deeply, and walked steadily to her balcony and looking out on the dynamic cityscape of Coruscant, she longed for Anakin to return to her. She felt that he was her strength, he was a part of the waves that kept her floating and she needed him.
When the Clone Wars had first started she had envisioned a diplomatic solution to the conflict, imagining the wars would end and she and Anakin would be able to live out their lives in peace, as opposed to the constant dread she lived with now, everyday, not knowing whether Anakin was dead or alive.
Anakin…..where are you….I need you….I am afraid. I can’t live with this fear…it is too much…I feel like I’m drowning....I can’t take it……it is too much…too much for me to cope with.
She breathed again, the light breeze sweeping over her face and she remembered the light fresh spring breezes of Naboo, the delicate breeze that had washed her face when Anakin and she had looked out into the sunset, as man and wife. The memory brought tears to her eyes, in that instance she had been truly happy, naively underestimating the gravity of the lies she would have to tell, that would become her life. She refused to let the tears fall, she will not submit to the emotion, she must be in control, and she must fight, like Anakin does.
But I did surrender to my emotions; I married a Jedi; one who should be sworn to no one, I married out of selfishness, and look where I am now.
She looked out into the distance, somewhere in the outer rim, her husband; her lifeline was fighting for democracy, or the semblance of democracy that remained in the Republic.
I will not drown, I will struggle against the tides of lies, I will lie because I must, for my own safety, for Anakin, and for the Republic. I do not want to….but I must….otherwise I will sink…..
She walked back in, and briskly put on her outer-garment, as though putting on a uniform, and she realised in the web of lies that was her existence one aspect must remain true.
I must not lie to myself, even if lying to everyone else is my life, I must always be on my side, because I do not really know who else is...
She walked quickly to her bedchamber, where a large mirror resided, she saw herself as she was, seeing a frightened young woman, but immediately saw herself change as the uniform of lies and brocade surrounded her; she would appear the strong, wilful and determined woman she seemed.
But I refuse to lie to myself, a line must be drawn somewhere, otherwise I will be consumed by the deceit. Now is the time to be honest with myself…
She faced the mirror as she began to face the truth, “I’m pregnant” she saw her reflection say, but turning sharply away from the mirror she still clung to disbelief, like a child to a security blanket.
No……face the truth…..that is what Anakin would do….he would be strong…..he would not be weak……..you must not be weak!
Tears slowly and steadily transpired in her eyes, but she looked to the ceiling, determined to will them away, but she gave up and slowly turned round again to see the pale, young, naïve girl looking at her through tear-stained eyes, this was the real her, the true Padmé; frightened and alone. She willed herself to speak, and through a thick voice she heard her reflection speak; “You may be scared, and you may feel alone, but you are pregnant. You’re going to be a mother…..a mother…… to give birth to a helpless baby that will need you for protection, if you sink, this innocent life inside you will sink too…..that is why you have to be strong, not for Anakin, not even for yourself or the democracy that you have dedicated your life to….. but because you are going to create life….be a mother.”
The words filled her with purpose. She had been the Queen, a revered and respected Queen and she had subsequently been a Senator, battling unjust politics since a young age….but she knew her real purpose was to bring this child into the world safely, to be raised by loving parents. She stared at the reflection and saw that her eyes were no longer filled with tears but had gained an iron resolve in their stare.
However, purposeful though she may be, she still felt weak, encompassed by the falsehood of her existence. As there is still a shadow beneath when light shines from above, so Padmé felt the light of purpose shining and the subsequent shadow of reality; the sea of lies beneath and paradoxically the raft of lies that kept her, her husband and her unborn child safe, and this sent a chill through her heart.
I have to just keep on going, what will happen will happen. I must continue on, going through one step at a time, all I can do is my best.
Again fear gripped her….what if her best wasn’t enough. She pushed these fears deep inside her, determined to waste no more time tormenting herself over what she can’t control, but her fears seemed to flood back into her mind, and every time she thought she could force them from her thoughts they swamped back in.
Still mostly unconvinced she swept out of her bedroom, not glancing back to see her reflection but concentrating on getting through the next meeting, then lunch, and then the afternoon, taking one step at a time towards the unknown and insecure future that saturated her thoughts.
One step…she looked at the plush burgundy carpet of the corridor….one step…she looked up ahead….one step….Senator Organa stood with a concerned look on his face….one step…..one step at a time….one stroke at a time.
The End
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