Saga The Color Challenge Response Thread - Post viggies here!

Here's mine.

(And I did realize, after I wrote this, that there is already a grey, though it's in the Before thread. Oh, well. Mine is different and special like a snowflake!)

Title: Grey
Timeframe: ROTS
Characters: Moteé and others.



Grey



We are waiting in the dimmed apartment for Amidala to return. Or: I am standing here, next to the other handmaiden, a woman I have worked with for perhaps a year, but still hardly know. Her name is Ellé, though she is surprised, still, when I address her by that. Her eyebrows, which she needs to pluck (I can hear my mother saying, though I wish I couldn?t) jump up. She must have taken this name when she entered Amidala?s service. She is quiet. She is thinking about something I cannot know. Yet, I can guess. She has a slight, secret telling smile.

I look serious, or so I hope. Really, I am bored.

We wait, our skin stiff and calm as marble, in the grey room. There is only one light on behind us in the shadows. The protocol droid, who Amidala keeps with her at most or all times, turned it on only moments ago. His footsteps click around the apartment, worried about this or that.

And: we are wearing matching grey dresses, like sisters. The hoods are big and sloppy, though we are too well trained to let it show. I can?t see most of the room. The fabric is slippery, and the plush underskirt is brushing against my paper white slip, and against me. I can?t help but feel it.

We laid these dresses out earlier in preparation for Amidala?s return. The skirts are made up of stiff pleats. They tend to wrinkle, so we must be careful with them. Of course. Not that Amidala will notice them, or us, because, well, she never does. The way she almost never addresses me by name, though I have served her for nearly three years. I recall: I came here to Coruscant with her from Naboo, almost three years ago.

She had forgotten about the assassination attempts I had heard whispers about, and if she regretted or feared anything, she did not share this with me. No, she was giggling over Him. The Jedi I have seen in flashes on the holonet, the Boy Without Fear.

He?s here, his cloak part of the darkness behind us. Quiet. He won?t ever need to guess that I know. He snuck in, or no: He walked in. He can do that. They have a relationship, if I must be proper and delicate. They?re lovers. She hasn?t told us that, or anything else, but she did realize, quite recently, what we would have to know. She called us to her in this room, and she sat down across from us on the couch. That day, she had her hair let down, and wore a grass green dress, from Naboo (of course). She wore little fabric shoes with scuffed heels, but she kept those hidden.

She told us what she couldn?t hope to hide. She?s pregnant. I think Ellé had already guessed, and I-- Well, I might not have suspected until the final months, since I know nothing of babies and batting eyed mumsy love.

Neither did my mother. I don?t love her, but that is fine. That is all right.

She?s here.

She steps out of the speeder onto the landing. Captain Typho is waiting for her, another loyal servant. She is polite, but not friendly. (And He is waiting for her as well. I know that. Does Ellé? We can speak of it later, when we have been dismissed to go off and do nothing, but we won?t.) I press my hands together. My skin seems grey in the old light, though I know I am pale, and shining (yes, shining) with health and youth and etc. She is wearing the regal purple gown I selected, with dragging skirts and a stiff corset over her secret belly, but she is not regal. No, she is flushed and silly. Her breasts have grown, and swollen up like bread dough. Her nipples are darker, almost muddy dark, and I believe that is normal. Though her ankles don?t seem swollen. I know, because I am the one who helps her dress.

She can?t hide it from me.

The protocol droid comes forward to meet her. For a moment, she looks over at us. At me, and at Ellé. Ellé smiles,

 

Pandora26: That was wonderful! Certainly a different way to present Padme; I really disliked her in your fic, which I think I was supposed to, hopefully. I got the feeling of how much the handmaiden resented her, though you never actually said it. Anyway, great job!

JOINME: I'm beginning to think I should just delete that comment about how it's my first SW fanfic (even though it really is) because I have been writing for a long, long time. This is just the first time I've applied it to Star Wars. And thanks for your wonderful review! I'm really pleased with the results of this viggie and it makes me happy to see other people enjoying it as well. And rest assured that I've got more fics planned; a few viggies that are in the process of working themselves out of me, as well as a big, monster fic that is undergoing a beta reading process. Hopefully I'll have the prologue up soon, once I can iron out some of the kinks!

Stormqueen

 

Pandora, I always love your handmaiden analyses! Ah, reminds me of Corde, feeling ignored, though of a much higher degree... I guess Amidala was already getting aloof, even before Anakin, eh? Man, grey's such a great color for Motee! I love how you used two different greys: grey like the shadow, and grey like the moonlight... two different sides of Motee, conflicting her so much. Sigh, stupid Padme should see what she's missing before she dies...

I'm so happy people actually like doing this! Wonder what color we'll get next...

 

bobilll I love your use of imagery. I also like how the ribbons in her hair to represent the childhood she's leaving behind. You convey a sense of her sacrifice very well.

Aiden_Sanic Very interesting choice! You are even in the very air you breathe. Perfect creepy line. He's everywhere but no one sees.

stormqueen You found a lot of details that I'd never picked up on. I liked the comparision between the Blue naboo sky, his eyes, and freedom. And that it's the opposite of Vader. Nice job!

Eirate_rules Sad how the color she loved becomes tainted and turned against her.

Pandora Interesting to see Amidala from a different point of view. You made me really feel for the handmaidens. Being lonely and ignored. Devoted to duty but yet pushed aside as uneeded.

 

Thoroughly enjoyed all of these! I might have to try this out

 

Title: Blue
Characters: Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Anakin
Genre: Angst, probably.
Notes: This also kind of takes place in Before...but oh well. The ending is in this era, so it will be posted in this era. Try not to laugh too hard.




Blue. I stand in a room of pure blue, upon a world, in a galaxy that is nothing but blue. The shades are changeable?as I watch, the walls and the floor and the furniture shift from cerulean to navy to cobalt to indigo, and then back again. It changes like water rippling in the sunlight, but the color is always the same: always blue.

There is no other color.

My hands?I hold them out in desperation, and find them mercifully to be their normal tint. It is a small comfort; I half expected them, too, to have taken on the blueness. My tunics?I glance down at them, seizing handfuls of the material. No, not blue?brown. They are as brown as they?ve ever been. And the braid upon my shoulder...my Padawan braid, the symbol of my apprenticeship and everything I stand for?

As a hundred times before in nervousness, idleness, and fear, my fingers seek it.

They close upon nothing.

My braid?where?where is my braid?

No, it?it can?t be gone! If my braid has been cut, then?

?Don?t you remember? You severed it yourself, Obi-Wan.?

I glance up in surprise, in desperation. ?No, Master,? I say slowly. ?I would never do that.?

?But you did,? he insists calmly.

?No! I know what that symbolizes! I would never??

Never. Never. My words ricochet from the walls and come flying back at me as though someone has captured them and is replaying them, mocking me.

?You did,? says Qui-Gon again, and he turns to leave. ?You?ve made your choice, Obi-Wan??

?No!? I run after him, reaching out towards his retreating form. ?Please, Master! Don?t leave me!?

?You?ve made your choice,? comes the cool response. He does not turn around to face me, but keeps walking. ?Everyone knows now where your true loyalties lie?and they?re not with the Jedi.?

?Please,? I beg, but Master does not stop, and Master does not slow. He keeps walking, and before long, he disappears into the mist.

And I am alone with the blue.

-----------------------------------------------

A careful hand brushes my forehead. ?Wake up now, Padawan,? says my Master?s voice sternly. ?You?re dreaming.?

I take in the silhouette of his large form, sitting on the side of my bed. His face is tilted downward, towards mine, and his hand has come to rest upon my shoulder. Its weight is warm and comforting and real?so very, very real.

?I?m sorry, Master.? The words leave my mouth before I can think about them. It seems the thing to say, anyway.

?Sorry for what, Obi-Wan??

?For betraying you. For forsaking your teachings. For being irrational. For everything.? For anything else I?ve done.

Master touches my face. ?For what happened on Melida/Daan??

Is that what you meant in my dream? ?Yes,? I answer?because I?m tired, and my mouth is speaking for me. Sleep sounds wonderful right now?but can I sleep again, knowing that I might dream?

"Obi-Wan, you know we've moved past that."

?Please, Master?don?t let me go back there.?

?To Melida/Daan??

?To the blue.?

Master?s forehead furrows, and I know that he doesn?t understand. Nevertheless, he says quietly, ?All right,? and pulls the sheets up to my chin, tucking them carefully around me. ?Go back to sleep.?

I obey.

------------------------------------------------------

Blue. It?s so blue.

I?ve been a long time in coming, but I?ve finally end up here once again. Many things have changed; this room is not. It is still blue?so jarringly, eerily blue, exactly the same as it looked that night all those years ago.

?Hello??

Hello? Hello?

It?s the echo. I frown. ?Is anyone here??

Here? Here? Here?

?Where is this??

This? This?

?Consider it your own personal Hell.? The voice is clear and sharp, a

 

Wow! This was a wonderful little piece! I was thinking of doing Obi-Wan at first, but now I'm glad I didn't. The dream with everyone yelling "Failure!" really creeped me out and the end I got chills.

"It was just a dream, Ani."

Brrrrrrrrrr....

Stormqueen

 

I love it! HEhe, I always have a soft spot for Obi-wan ficcies... the imagery of the room was awesome!

At once, I am both elated and horrified to see another color.

Awesome contrast. I can totally envision the scene in my head, the way you describe it. And the ending, with Anakin, the Light Apprentice, was totally creepy! Nice job!

 

stormqueen874:

Thanks for reading! Hmm. You know, I never write a character hoping to get a specific reaction from readers. So, yes, I can see why you didn't like Padmé in this story, but it's one of any number of valid reactions.

bobilll:

Glad you enjoyed the story. Yes, it would be nice if Padmé could realize her handmaiden's worth before she dies, but if the movie is any indication, well. She won't. Too busy with Anakin; or, more like, overwhelmed and buried in her love for him. There isn't any more room for handmaidens, alas. Which is unfortunate if you are the handmaiden.

Lovely-in-Orange:

Thanks! Yes, this is certainly a different view of Padmé. Not everyone sees her as the angel Anakin sees (well, we all know how un-biased he is). So I'm glad it worked for you.