If it was a world that continuously burned then she was a part of its ashes; a mythical angel that had long ago fallen from the moons of Iego...
Post Revenge of the Sith
Padmé lived.
A/N: The following is an angsty follow-up had Padme lived. Just my take. The following dialogue in italics was taken from The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, Clone Wars series, and Revenge of the Sith scripts and novels. Of course, some of the dialogue was created and I'm sure you'll be able to differentiate. No copyright infringement is intended. Star Wars is owned by Lucasfilm and now... Disney.
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If it was a world that continuously burned then she was a part of its ashes; a mythical angel that had long ago fallen from the moons of Iego...
"Are you an angel?"
A crestfallen monarch had watched democracy die.
"I pray you to help us. No, I beg of you to help us. Our fate is in your hands..."
A grieving Senator had witnessed liberty dissipate before her very eyes.
"So, this is how liberty dies with thunderous applause..."
A new mother with a womb now as barren as the unforgiving deserts of Tatooine. A seasoned wife that became restless as a fiery, caged Nexu. Though slowly, she was broken into submission under duress.
"I don't know you anymore... Anakin you're breaking my heart. You're going down a path I cannot follow. Come back..."
With durasteel as her bars, the cold void of space while shelled within the behemoth vessel of the Star Destroyer's the Devastator—her prison.
The expansive viewport unveiled thousands of planets being traversed and brought under the Iron Fist of the Emperor. It was her very own personal torture. As if the cosmos were punishing for daring to fall for the Chosen One. Forged for a destiny to balance the Force. A love affair between a Jedi and a Senator had not been written in the stars. Now she was paying her dues.
Once the ship descended over a planet it echoed like a death knell in her very soul, prying open the fissures left around her heart. Often she found her knees buckling, her appetite ever so delicate that the planes of her face had started to protrude, hollowing out her cheeks and losing the rich complexion that hereditarily bloomed beneath the integument of a born Nabooian.
Her sunburst spirit had heralded an entire idyllic planet as Queen. Once it filled the halls of the Naberrie homestead as she volunteered her efforts to the Refugee Relief Movement with her father. Such a passion would ignite the same fiery drive that led to an Apprenticeship in the Youth Legislative program. Similar to the sleepless nights in her senatorial apartment as she obsessively poured over stalled or newly drafted bills in the Senate. Left fighting for the injustices in the vast reaches of the galaxy to broker a peace that would never come...
The flames that once burned at a white-hot core for democracy, flickered in the face of darkness, slowly dying out. The profound sense of loss that wholly consumed sinew and muscle, threatened to snuff the last of her light entirely.
