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Coruscant never sleeps. Outside Padmé’s bedroom window, Sabé can see the glow of the city lights and the whizzing of starships flying by. It’s so different from the peacefulness of their home, Naboo.
On the mattress beside her, Padmé stirs. Brown curls cascade down her back, pooling on the sheets. An ivory silk nightgown drapes over her restless body, contouring soft muscle. Even in the low light, she’s beautiful.
Sabé rolls onto her side, her body shaping itself against her friend’s back. She throws her arm over her, holding her tight — just like old times. It feels like a lifetime ago that they'd fall asleep in Amidala’s bed, holding each other through the night.
“Thank you,” Padmé whispers, her tense muscles softening.
The former queen hasn't been a senator for long, but Sabé understands that it weighs on her. She has new handmaidens now, beautiful women at her beck and call, but at the end of it all, she always comes back to her. Their adolescent bond, sturdy and unrelenting, is unbreakable.
While others don’t, Sabé sees the dark circles beneath her weary eyes. Not only has she been trained to do so, but she has also learned to recognise the subtle changes in her dearest friend’s face over time. The rest of the galaxy sees a perfect fighter, while beneath it all, she sees a vulnerable little girl.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sabé assures her, “just close your eyes and try to sleep.”
Padmé nestles into her embrace. She smells of handmade floral soap, imported from Naboo. Sabé draws a deep breath, drinking it in. Something about Padmé’s beauty is effortless.
She is determined to stay awake until she knows that Padmé is asleep. Eventually, her quick breaths slow and deepen. Her body lies lax and still, save for the rise and fall of her chest. Finally, for the next few hours, she is free of all responsibility.
Sabé kisses her exposed shoulder, careful not to wake her, and closes her own eyes.