Title: The Scales
Fandom: Star Wars (AU)
Author: Jody bloodraven77
Characters: Padmé Amidala
Prompt: 32.Sunset
Warnings: If you can’t handle the idea of Padmé being a villain please do not read. Sorry no Padmékin here either.
Ratings & Warnings: PG. Dark Themes.
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it.
Summery: This is Chapter Seven of my tale Queen of Darkness.
Padmé struggles to balance the guilt of her sins and her new found responsibilities. Marrying the mighty chosen one came at no small price and what started as a game has now become something much more deadly.


One of the first things Padmé discovered about her new husband was his profound ability to delude himself into believing whatever his heart wanted him to believe. Padmé was certain he’d learn his wife was having regrets and confront her about them. In fact she had been so sure of it that she even had even worked out an explanation. Surely he’d come to understand that what she had said was just words, frantic collections of incoherent thoughts spoken in a moment of duress.

Padmé inwardly sighed to the impossible thought as she continued to swim toward the islands that decorated the lakes center. If only things were so simple and easy to mend.

At one time she used to escape to the island to spend time with friends, when she was older it was to spend time with her lover. Now she swam to and from it to escape him.

At the thought her strokes grew stronger while the paddling of her feet grew swifter. Padmé had been swimming to and from the island for much of the morning and was now exhausted. It didn’t stop her from continuing on at her pace; to slow down would be a sign of weakness. She also didn’t know how much longer she’d have before the padawan awoke and wanted to make the most of her fleeting freedom.

Padmé may have been Anakin’s wife but she felt more like his prisoner; one trapped and bound by the delusions of the love he believed they had for each other. She had such hopes that he’d come to his senses, or at the very least learn the truth through her emotions and thoughts, but it never happened. Padmé told Anakin on Geonosis that she loved him, so therefore (in his mind) it must be true.

How she longed to confess her to her crime, to finally end the façade! But Padmé knew better than to speak of such things or even to allow herself to think of them. Anakin was much more than just an innocent boy to her now. He was a dangerous killer, capable of terrible things, such as the slaughter of innocent children.

So are you.

Padmé shivered and faltered in mid stroke to the foreign thought causing the wake she had created to slap against her face. She was in the middle of the lake and the wind was beginning to pick up. Her body reeled with exhaustion but she continued to tread the water. Though her arms shook and her legs ached as though they were without bone, Padmé felt nothing; her thoughts were suddenly elsewhere.

Images of thousands, millions of corpses all Boranian suddenly flooded her thoughts.

They must not follow you.

The oracle’s voice echoed in Padmé’s mind as she struggled to bury the memory. She had only wanted to help, to protect them from an inevitable fate, to give them a second chance. In the end she became not their savoir, rather their doom.

Years later, the young senator could still see their eyes, so vacant and empty, staring at her in silent accusation. Not a single soul, not even her friend N'a-kee-tula, survived the strange fever that ravaged them without mercy. No physician or medical droid could explain it as the Boranians should have been immune to the disease. They weren’t, and in the end neither was Padmé. Padmé survived with only minor damage and the promise that she would never be able to bear children. The Boranian’s weren’t nearly as fortunate.

You and I are a lot more alike than you realize.

The memory of Anakin’s words during their journey back to Naboo sent a shiver down Padmé’s spine. The all too familiar sense of suffocation began to flood her senses causing her eyes to snap open. Padmé stopped herself just in time to keep from sucking in a mouthful of water as she realized she was far below the water’s surface and sinking.

There was no sense of panic, no fear either; only a strange calm. Her lungs burned and begged for air, while her eyes adjusted to her watery surroundings. The current was pulling her under but Padmé did nothing to resist. Looking up she could see the sunlight piercing through the dark waters. It was as mystifying as it was beautiful; it was also fierce. Soon it all began to fade as stars danced behind her eyes.

Choose carefully, for the weight of an entire world now rest in your hands.

Bail’s words, so strong, so poignant suddenly reminded Padmé of the Jedi padawan. If she died, what would become of him? It wasn’t for love that she considered the danger, rather responsibility and if she dared to admit it, fear.

Fear for the innocents who would surely pay for her mistake. Fear for the many lives that would certainly fall prey to the evil she knew Anakin was capable of. Padmé vividly remembered his admittance on Tatooine, the fact he felt no remorse for the Sand people he slaughtered. While some might have been deserving of punishment; Padmé knew most were not.

Her limp body suddenly sprung to life and Padmé began to fight against the powerful currents that threatened to suck her under. Desperately she poured what little energy she had left into breaking the water’s surface. Eventually she succeeded and with a new determination the young senator made her way back to the main land.

Only then did it occur to her the power she had over the young man; but with such power came incredible responsibility. Whether she liked it or not Padmé now wielded a weapon, one so unstable that it could destroy not only her, but so many innocents. As much as she longed to rid herself of it, the young senator realized she had no choice. What started as an impish game; a means of spiting Dormé had suddenly turned deadly. Padmé may have proved to herself that she was the better woman, but in then she had to wonder was it really worth the price?

Her body continued to cut through the water like a blade, as her exhausted thoughts mulled over the horrifying discovery. The shore line was within reach, as was her frantic husband who paced the shores in concern. Anakin was never fond of large bodies of water or the rain. Padmé on the other hand was, and now more than ever before, saw it as a means of escape.

Upon reaching the shore line Padmé soon rose to her full petite height; immediately the senator felt the ground spin. Padmé had pushed herself too far and now her body was threatening to betray her for it. She’d be damned if she’d show such weakness before Anakin.

She continued onwards while struggling to blink back the stars which danced in her eyes. Fiercely determined to maintain control, Padmé repeatedly reminded herself that soon she’d be able to rest on one of the large rocks nearby. Padmé’s vision continued to blur until the images before her became completely indiscernible, then her vision suddenly cleared or so she thought.

In Anakin’s place now stood the strange oracle who had read Padmé’s runes on eve of her inauguration. Surrounding the oracle were bodies of the dead; women, men, even children of every race and nationality she could think of, and some she didn’t even recognise. There were so many that it was almost hard to discern individuals from the grand mass of corpses. Stunned the young senator could only stare as a shiver ran down her spine, a more horrifying sight she had never witnessed.

Only when her amber eyes met the priest’s watchful gaze was Padmé able to regain some semblance of control. She had a sinking feeling she knew who was behind this macabre sight, yet when she opened her mouth to ask, only one word escaped her lips.

“Anakin?”

The oracle slowly shook his head, his dark eyes never wavering from Padmé’s troubled gaze.

They are your victims.

The petite senator’s eyes widened in horror and immediately she succumbed to the inky blackness of unconsciousness.