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The train is crowded, far more populated than is usual for their remote destination. The Lake Country is one of Naboo's quietest spots: usually it's home only to farmers and craft workers – until the summer season begins and the holidaymakers flood it in their droves. Sabé's posture straightens reflexively, dark eyes darting from passenger to passenger and drinking in every detail.
There's a lot to take in. The train is a cacophony of noise and colour. Everywhere she looks there are flashes of it – yellows, oranges, purples – and murmured conversations seem to surround them from every direction like the bubbling of the planet’s many waterfalls. Sabé tries to assess each being with a single glance, her eyes knowing what to seek out instinctively. A flicker of recognition in someone’s eyes. A concealed vibroblade. A passenger that's just a little too interested in the pair, in spite of their modest travel clothes.
Gods, she’s overthinking things.
Almost as if sensing her tension – and really, she probably did: packed in like bluefish, their shoulders press together in this crowded space – Padmé leans into her side. She tucks her head into the crook of Sabé's neck, the soft fabric of her cowl tickling ever so gently.
"Relax," Padmé tells her. “This is a holiday, remember?”
Sabé purses her lips. Padmé’s right, as she often is, but it doesn’t make following her advice much easier.
---
When they finally arrive, the sun is at its peak, blazing down on them like the fire-breathers of Mimban. There's a hazy mirage hanging on the horizon where the track stops and the sky droops lazily down to meet it. A thin layer of perspiration sticks to Sabé's forehead and she's grateful they took Rabé's advice when it came to choosing their outfits. Even when apart, Sabé knows she can always rely on her sisters, and the simple fact that she hasn't devolved into a puddle on the floor is testament to that.
Padmé, on the other hand, looks flawless as always. Her face glows in the unfiltered sunlight, a thin sheen on her face the only evidence that the heat is affecting her at all, and even then it could be mistaken for highlighter, a natural dewy look that radiates beauty. It’s unfair, but Sabé has long known that Padmé is perfect. And yet here she is, Sabé’s alone to admire.
They follow a narrow path from their stop down to the shorefront, Padmé leading the way as always. Weeds and wildflowers sprout up between the cobbles beneath their feet, bringing with them the overwhelming earthy scent of life that Sabé misses every time she leaves Naboo. A gentle breeze cards through their hair and tugs playfully at their skirts as they amble down the hillside.
From up here, they have a perfect view of the deep cobalt waters below. Lush meadows surround them, shaaks grazing idly, unaware of the area’s recent flood of visitors. Sabé wonders how it might feel to take off her shoes and walk through those meadows, feeling the grass tickle her feet, the spongy resistance a reminder of the home she loves so dearly, to keep with her when she leaves.
They're almost at the bottom when Sabé's foot catches on one of the uneven stones, her mind distracted, and she stumbles ungracefully. For a second it seems like she might fall and she braces herself for the impact, arms positioned across her chest to drop into a roll if she should need to. Panaka would be proud, she thinks, if not for the context. But before Sabé can feel the warm flush of embarrassment rising in her cheeks, Padmé’s hand is in hers, steadying her.
She ducks her head, only slightly bashful. "Thank you."
"You know I'll always be there to catch you," Padmé tells her, then the smile on her face turns slightly teasing and she adds, "no matter how many times you fall for me."
It's Sabé's turn to smile then, any self-consciousness she might have felt dissipating in the summer air. "I'll hold you to that."
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
Padmé doesn't drop Sabé's hand. Sabé can feel the warmth of a thousand suns between their joined palms.
They make their way down the rest of the slope like that, hand-in-hand and cheeks rosy with suppressed joy. This is new. To love for so long and to be loved in return is a feeling Sabé never expected to know. To hold Padmé's hand in public no matter who might see them. To be so carefree is a gift. For so long, they've both had to act so much older than their eighteen years. Now, it feels like their lives are just beginning.
Their venture takes them to a village on the edge of the shore. Ordinarily it would probably be described as sleepy, with its few houses and businesses whose signs detail only seasonal hours. Today, however, its brightly painted streets bustle with life.
They weave through those streets, deftly dodging the throngs of tourists who stop every few paces to admire something new. They can't be faulted; the village really is a spectacle like this. Sabé hasn’t visited before either, and her own eyes catch on every curiosity, still unused to the novelty of being off duty. Padmé slows whenever Sabé does, seemingly content to take their time with the sights, although Padmé has been here many times before. She leads Sabé along without any haste and though it's still an unfamiliar feeling, Sabé has to admit she quite likes the two of them being able to move at their own pace.
Their destination is a small coral building, tucked away at the end of the street, nearest the shore. Deep green vines streak across the facade, creeping from a nearby tree on the edge of the lake. The building is so nondescript that Sabé likely would have walked straight past it, focused only on the soft waves ahead.
Now that she looks at it, she can make out a faded sign above the door, but before she can read the words, Padmé tugs on her hand.
"Come." There's a small smile on her face. "I have something to show you."
Inside, they're greeted by rustic decor and a more muted colour scheme than the exterior would have suggested. The interior is notably cooler than it is outside, thanks to a large conservator on the far wall. A short woman with messily chopped dark curls stands behind it. Well, half of her stands behind it. The other half leans through the doorway she’s standing in, as though she’s speaking to someone just out of view.
Sabé takes her time to scope out the room while the woman talks. She walks over to the conservator, Padmé at her side, only to find an assortment of flavoured ices, brightly coloured and neatly labelled. The laugh that spills out of her is one of surprise. Of all the things she had expected, this wasn't one of them. Did Padmé really bring them both all the way out here for ice cream? She realises there's nothing to stop her from voicing this thought anymore, and so she does just that.
"Did you really bring us all the way out here for ice cream?"
Padmé’s amusement is palpable. Sabé feels it in the pit of her own stomach, a pleasant bubbly feeling like sparkling wine on a summer’s night. “Is there something wrong with ice cream?”
“Of course not. It’s just…” She searches for the right word. It’s certainly not unpleasant, just – “Unexpected.”
“Not bad, I hope,” Padmé says jokingly.
“Quite the opposite actually.”
They’re interrupted by raised voices from the other room, a dispute between the proprietor and her… droid? By the sounds of things. A high synthesised voice can be heard clearly now, apparently continuing to protest, although the woman is no longer listening. She lets out a deep sigh as she returns to the shop floor, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers.
Her displeasure is quickly replaced by a professional smile when she notices them, apologies already stacked at the back of her throat. Warm, yet politely distant. But the moment they step closer the expression seems to crack, breaking into a cheek-splitting grin.
“Padmé Amidala! How long has it been?”
Padmé’s face lights up in turn. "I wasn't sure if you'd recognise me, Mireia, it's been far too long."
“I’ll say! You must’ve been this high when I saw you last!” She holds a hand up to her waist and Sabé tries desperately not to think of a young Padmé, her front two teeth missing – Jobal and Ruwee still show her pictures, much to Padmé’s constant embarrassment – coming in to buy ice cream, her head barely reaching the counter beside the conservator. The image is far more adorable than it has any right to be.
She forces a cough to account for her distraction, pulling herself back into the conversation, but it has the unfortunate side effect of drawing more attention to her than she’d like. Padmé and Mireia stop talking as they turn to her, and Sabé sees the instant Mireia’s eyes zone in on her, suddenly interested.
“I don’t remember this young lady, though,” she says mildly, though her sharp gaze is still fixed on Sabé. Sabé wonders if she’s about to experience the shovel talk from a complete stranger.
“Sabé.” She holds her hand out for Mireia to take, a show of the dignity she’s practiced so often over the years. “I’m... Padmé’s girlfriend.”
It feels odd to introduce herself this way, though it is the truth. They’ve been dating for months now, but not openly; with their respective roles of queen and handmaiden, it hadn’t seemed appropriate at the time. Yet Sabé also feels a thrill at saying it now, in people knowing exactly what Padmé means to her.
The older woman’s eyebrows raise; she makes no attempt to hide her surprise, but she seems pleased if the slight quirk of her mouth is anything to go by. Sabé flushes at the attention.
“Girlfriend, huh? Aw, I’m happy for you girls.” Sabé’s glad to note that she sounds sincere. “So what can I get for you two lovebugs?”
“One jogan fruit, and a muja fruit, as well,” Padmé answers for them both. Sabé looks at her, a quizzical look on her face.
“How did you know?”
“You’ve been staring at it since we walked in. It wasn't hard to guess."
It’s true, her eyes had been drawn to one container, burnt orange with flecks of red. It’s been a long time since she’s been allowed to indulge like this and her heart swells with the realisation that Padmé had been paying attention.
Mireia obliges, with an expression that Sabé, with all her experience in reading others, could only describe as affectionate.
Sabé watches as she takes a scoop out of a bucket and dunks it into the camtonos, depositing the ice cream onto thatched cones for them. The tool is fairly antiquated for its purpose; many parlours have long since moved away from manual utensils; but there’s something nice about it. It feels like they’re being transported to another time, a simpler one, where there are no duties to attend to. No planets to rule. Only the rush of the waves and delicate swirls of ice cream, hand-scooped just for them.
She pokes her tongue out as soon as they’re handed their cones. The ice cream is sweet, with just a hint of tartness behind it; Sabé isn’t a fan of anything over-sweet or manufactured. It tastes even better than she’d expected, though how much of that is due to Padmé’s arm sliding through hers at the same time remains to be seen.
“How much do we owe you?” Padmé asks. Her body presses warm and comfortable against Sabé’s side.
“For you? It’s on the house.” The older woman offers Padmé a wink, like it’s their little secret. She reminds Sabé of an aunt she hasn’t seen in years, too busy with her education, and then with her career. It’s oddly comforting.
"Oh, no, we couldn’t accept that! You’ve always been too kind, Mireia, please take this.” Padmé fishes in one of her dress’s deep pockets, coming up with a large handful of credits. She thrusts it toward the woman, silently begging her to accept, but Mireia simply laughs fondly.
“Save it for your girl,” she tells Padmé, with a bold nod towards Sabé. “Buy yourselves something nice.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Padmé says, but her expression is unmistakably fond. “Thank you, as always. It’s a pleasure seeing you again after so long. Hopefully it won’t be so long next time.”
There’s a keen mutter of something that sounds not unlike "better not be", before Sabé speaks up as well.
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” she says politely. The woman scoffs at her formalities, pulling her into an unexpected embrace.
“None of that! Any friend of Padmé’s is a friend of mine.” She lowers her voice then, speaking to Sabé alone. “Just you take care of her, yeah?”
Sabé can’t help but smile to herself. “Don’t worry,” she replies, “I will.”
---
They sit by the shore with their ice creams, feet dangling off the low wall and into the sparkling waters below. Gentle waves lap at their feet, like thousands of kyber crystals glinting in the evening sun. The water is pleasantly cool in contrast to the day's humidity. Each wave is a soft caress against their already sun-kissed skin. It’s calming, this little back and forth, the lull of the lake’s tides pushing and pulling in equal measure. Sabé doubts anything could spoil the moment.
"Watch out for the aqua monsters," Padmé comments casually as Sabé wiggles her toes in the water.
Sabé pauses, feet stilling in the lake for just an instant, and then she grins, a rare expression on her face, and gives Padmé a shove. "Menace! You almost had me for a moment."
She forgets sometimes how playful Padmé can be when duty isn't stifling her spirit. Forgets how it feels to let loose herself. She thinks for a moment. Kicks her feet up to splash Padmé for good measure.
Padmé squeals, the sound trailing off into laughter. She turns to the side, shielding herself from the torrent as best she can. "I'll drop my ice cream!"
"That sounds like something you should have thought of beforehand. Or am I to be your mind all the time?" From anyone else the words might have been mocking, but from Sabé the jest assumes a different meaning. Padmé takes it in her stride, runs with the joke as far as they can carry it.
"Maybe you should. Then I wouldn't have to worry about the future. What do you think we should do, mind of mine?"
"Mhm.” Sabé gazes out at the cerulean waters. Lets herself think, just for a second, of the future she can never have. “I think we should just stay here."
She's not usually so bold, but Padmé’s spirit seems to have affected her. She feels hopeful in a way that’s typically accompanied by a gathering of other girls and the thrill of a plan well-formed. She thinks of what might be if they were to allow themselves this happiness. They could wake up every morning on the edge of the lake, morning light streaming through the large windows of the Naberrie’s villa on Varykino. They could have breakfast in any of the homely little cafés in the village and spend the afternoons strolling through the historic streets. They could get ice cream when the sun was high, and Sabé could look at Padmé till her eyes couldn’t take it anymore, drinking in every detail, sinking in her admiration for the other girl.
She doesn’t elaborate on any of this.
“If we were to stay here, I think I’d order the jogan fruit," she says instead. "I’ve never tried it.”
“You can try mine,” Padmé offers, but she makes no move to bring the ice cream any closer to Sabé.
Instead, she leans her whole body into Sabé’s space, her nose brushing against Sabé’s as she presses their faces together. Oh. Sabé understands at once and her breath catches in her throat, her heart beating out a staccato rhythm against her chest. Well. She isn’t one to ignore an invitation. She leans in to capture Padmé’s mouth with her own.
Padmé’s lips are as soft as freshly fallen snow, with just a touch of that cold bite to them. Sabé presses into the kiss, unsure whether she’s chasing the sweetness of the ice cream or just Padmé herself. Padmé’s hand comes up to cradle Sabé’s face as she deepens the kiss, an entirely delicate gesture for an indelicate act.
Sabé’s heart feels close to overflowing with her love for Padmé, like a dam after a deluge. She pulls back to look at Padmé, her breath unsteady; she’s sure her usually unflappable sabacc face is flushed.
“So?” Padmé looks smug, but her cheeks are similarly dusted with pink. “What do you think?”
Sabé pretends to consider for a long moment before answering. “I’m not sure. I think I’d need to try it again to be sure.”
Padmé’s answering grin is one of the most beautiful things Sabé has ever seen, all teeth and mirth. “Is that so?”
The ice cream is sweet on Sabé's tongue, but the feelings that flood her heart when she looks at Padmé framed in the golden light are sweeter still. She nods, almost too vigorously. She thinks she could happily spend all her time here, trying again, and again, and again.
---
They take a water speeder over to Varykino as the evening draws in, ready to retire after a long day of travelling – the first day is always the most exhausting – but not quite ready to fall asleep.
They have a light dinner as the last of the day’s sun filters through the dining room windows, before they make their way to Padmé’s sleeping quarters. The villa is always quieter than Sabé remembers. She's so used to the hustle and bustle of Theed, of the Royal Palace and the many women who inhabited it. Her footsteps echo in the vast rooms, reminding her how lucky she is to be here, to be alone with Padmé.
They settle into bed together, a full sized queen instead of the usual singles. The larger bed is wasted on them, really, since Padmé wastes no time in tucking herself into Sabé's side, one arm curled protectively around her waist. They'll wake up sweaty and uncomfortable if they stay like this, despite the villa's air conditioning, but Sabé thinks that might be an acceptable price to pay for the way Padmé's breath tickles the nape of her neck and her other hand twines with Sabé's.
It's not the first time they've shared a bed, far from it, but there's something different about the silence of it all, the lack of their usually ever-present company. The weight of it sits heavy on Sabé's chest, simultaneously constricting and yet oddly freeing. It's the dawning comprehension that the future she had imagined earlier perhaps isn’t as far-fetched as she thought.
"I think you were right. Earlier," Padmé says against her skin, demonstrating her ever-impressive talent of reading the thoughts Sabé doesn't give voice to.
"Hm?" Sabé's response is muted, barely a response at all. She doesn't want to jostle Padmé by speaking, to break this sublime moment.
"About staying here," Padmé elaborates. "I think you were right."
The idea hangs over them in the silence. It’s easy to imagine with Padmé tucked so closely beside her. When Quarsh Panaka had plucked her from the Theed Conservatory to serve as Amidala’s body double amidst a handful of other talented young women, she never could have predicted the trajectory of her life or the love she’d feel for the queen she served.
"We'll have to invite the rest of the girls over too, of course," Padmé continues, oblivious to Sabé’s ruminations, and the breath is stolen from Sabé's lungs, because as much as a selfish part of her would like to keep this place all to themselves forever, the thought is so very domestic, like something Yané and Saché might have talked about. It’s not something Sabé has ever considered for herself, but the way Padmé says it has her yearning for something more.
“Of course,” Sabé replies, voice soft and sweet and full of love. “But for now, it’s just us.”
She pulls Padmé closer, and then, because she can’t help herself, leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. The future ahead may be nebulous, but this summer is for them alone, and Sabé can’t wait to enjoy it.