Fading Lights (OP/PM for invite)

[Feena]

This was the last day. The last sunset. At the stroke of midnight, she would announce it. She would not be running for another term. For four beautiful years, the Queen of Naboo had brought this world from the chaos and dust of war, and made it one of the most secure and thriving worlds in the midrim.

Four years ago, almost to this day, Naboo had suffered from an attack unlike the world had seen in generations. Lives were crushed, businesses destroyed, countless men, women and children displaced. The dead had cluttered the streets. Blood, dust, fire.

The Queen stood high above the city of Theed now, gazing out at the pristine white streets. So different now. This was the height of civilization. Success. Beauty. The water flowed clear and blue through the city, reflecting the orange setting sun like a mirror. The civillians below celebrated. In one hour, the parade would begin. Once the sun had set. She would ride down the pale streets by the brilliant glow of ten thousand lanterns. She would make her way to the edge of the city where the now completed wall awaited the final brick to be laid. Then, she would visit the memorial statue and give a speech in honor of the fallen Protectorate soldiers.

At exactly midnight, when the celebrations met their peak, the Queen would make her way back to the palace. Just outside, on the steps, she would give one more speech just before the lanterns were launched in honor of the fallen protectors.

It was then that she would finally say what the people were wondering. Would the Queen be their Queen next year?

No. She would not.
But she would never say why.
It would all become clear soon anyway. They'd have to forgive her. Some day. Perhaps, the people would even allow her to be buried here. She would like that.

"Majesty?"

The Queen turned around with a smile, her black hair was done up in full splendor for the festival day, dripping with hundreds of Naboo pearls. Her white robes were easily the most intricate thing she had ever worn. Silk the color of the purest cream, embroidered with the royal crest by a half dozen of Naboo's best seamstresses.
This was not the Queen she was behind the palace doors. She was not slumped over her desk, messy hair, comfortable robes, nose pressed against her work. She was the Queen the public expected to see, fresh faced, brilliant. On the inside, she was dizzy and weak, tired.

"It is time?" she asked, receiving a swift nod from her favorite handmaiden, "Very well. We have a busy night ahead of us."

 

[Felicity Mason]

The eldest daughter of the Queen had been taking part of the days festivities from the early morning. The dozen white flowers that had been braided into her hair were starting to come loose from dancing through the streets with other citizens. Her voice had gone rough, throat already raw from singing and yelling over other voices.
Her pretty silver tinted dress was crumpled now, the long sleeveless navy vest had started to snag at the bottom, long enough to collect leaves and dirt and flowers from the streets. She was a mess already. And it was still beautiful.

Laughing, she danced hand in hand with strangers to the song that a half dozen local musicians had started playing on a whim. She clasped the hand of a boy of about ten years old and another young woman about the age of eighteen, her age. They made a large circle, grabbing strangers to add as they skipped and danced. They let go hands at the proper music cues, each of of them knowing this dance step by step. Felicity spun in place with the rest of them, loose hair and skirt billowing out like the petals of a flower.

The crowd that had gathered to watch the dance clapped along with the music, searching for an opening to join in. There had not been a celebration this magnificent since before the invasion. The budget simply could not fund it. There was too much damage to fix, more important things. But now that the damage had been recovered, the Queen finally let up.

Mom. Not the Queen. Just mom. Felicity had to remind herself that the Queen was still her Mother. It was easy to forget. She was so... distant. The woman may as well have been a stranger these past four years. But that was going to end. She'd already told her as much. Mother was finally coming home, retiring at last. She was going to be there. She was going to give up the throne. Maybe they could talk again. Like they used to.

The dance ended with a bow. Felicity was gasping, cheeks red, out of breath, but grinning. Yes. She had every reason to celebrate. But these people had no clue. They... loved her mom. Maybe they loved her more than she did. And mom loved them too.

Felicity pulled a flower that was clinging by a single hair out and handed it to the little boy she'd been holding hands with. He grinned, thanked her and scurried back to his mother. She watched the pair. He stopped in front of her and handed it to her. She took it between her fingers, smiled. Felicity watched her lips move. She knew what she said. They'd offer it tonight, lay it in front of the memorial for the dead soldiers. Maybe his father had been one of them. Felicity would never know, because in an instant, the two were lost in the crowd as it closed in.

The blonde reached up to run her fingers along the jagged edge of her ear, the missing tip, the hard scar tissue... She shivered, recalling the pain. That was the worst of it. She was lucky. They were all lucky. She reminded herself of that fact every day when she looked at the city. It was covered in ghosts. Naboo would never be the shining beacon of beauty it had once been to her. Everywhere she looked, she saw ghosts, bodies piled high. Even when you fixed a broken teacup, you could still see the cracks...