XVI. TREACHEROUS
word count: 2286

               The final preparations began before the morning sun came over the horizon. Elia felt as though she was ten years old again — being made up by handmaidens she was never allowed to know the names of (Elia never liked people getting her ready when she could do it herself). The ceremony wasn't even until midday, when Lena reached its peak in the sky, as was wedding tradition. But Elia did not understand why tradition dictated for her to be up so early. It was early enough that she heard birds whistling outside her window while her make up was applied. Perhaps she was never awake this early, but Elia could not remember the last time she heard birdsong outside her window.

With her make up complete and her hair styled, Elia's handmaidens left to prepare her dress. Now alone, Elia began figuring out how she could incorporate the Naberrie wedding fabric into her wedding gown. Her heart ached with joy at the simple thought of being allowed the privilege to be considered part of the Naberrie family. She thought about fashioning it into a new veil or some kind of petticoat, but next to the extravagant dress she had few ideas. She needed this to walk down the aisle — to remember that she was still an Uttara, and an honorary (and soon to be by law) Naberrie, as she always had been. Then came a knock against her bedroom door.

Elia's gaze flicked up. She was unsure if she was allowed visitors, but she did not care about tradition. And when she opened the door, Aerrik stood on the other side.

Ready to embrace her brother, Elia's faltered for a moment when she saw a box tucked under Aerrik's arm. With his other arm, Aerrik brought Elia into a tight hug. Elia brought him into her room and closed the door. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here." Her eyes grew hopeful. "Is Fallon with you?"

Aerrik dropped his head with a shake, his face full of woe. "It isn't safe, Lana. I'm sorry."

"Oh."

"I saw Ruwee and Jobal with Sola and the girls. And I heard about Padmé..." Aerrik pulled Elia into another hug. "I'm just glad you're alright."

Elia sighed. "At least there is some good news. I'm happy they could come for Oberyn."

"Hey, you know they're here for you too. We're all family."

"I didn't think family would look like this."

Elia saw Aerrik's heart breaking in front of her. She wished she had not said anything — Aerrik remembered the fire too. Alana lived in a palace now, she had no right to make complaints when her brother lost his two children and his wife. But Aerrik Uttara did not break. (Never in front of his sister.)

"I know it isn't quite the same, and gods know the Queen probably won't accept it, but I stopped by somewhere special to pick up something I thought you might like."

Aerrik opened the box to reveal a dress. A dress which Elia noticed immediately. It was their mother's wedding dress. A far simpler gown than the one the royal seamstresses had created for her: thin shoulder straps tied at the top with long white ribbon bows, and a smaller sheath skirt of silk with a tulle overskirt. Over the bodice, sleeves, and spilling onto the skirt were pastel appliqué flowers of yellow, lilac and pink with vines dancing between the petals. But unlike the royal gown that she was supposed to wear, the one before her held memory — her mother's memory. Elia thought back to her girlhood and holos of her mother's wedding day, but her recollections failed her. Alana clung to the dress in the box, folding soft fabric between her fingers.

"Mum would want you to have it."

Elia hugged Aerrik tightly while trying to compose herself so her make up would not spoil. She only let go when Aerrik laughed that she was strangling him. Perhaps she would use her gift from Padmé as a veil after all? Elia knew that recent fashion on Naboo had wedding fabric incorporated into a bride's sash or train. She was a quick seamstress, after years of practice, but she was not quite that good yet. Not in the time she had left. But she could fashion a small strip into a bow as well to wear in her hair or on her wrist, and after the ceremony she could carefully snip a flower from the dress and add it to the bow to create a reminder of who she was. She would keep the rest of the fabric for the future, for whatever may come. "Thank you."

Aerrik held Elia by the shoulders and smiled at her with his endearing big brother look. "I'm so proud of you. And I have one last gift for you."

He reached into the dress box, beneath the layers of skirt, to find a small box. He handed it to Elia to open. Her jaw dropped. It was the Evenstar — a family heirloom from their father: a necklace of silver and shining jewels. Thain used to tell Alana it was made from mithril and a fallen star. She believed him then, and she believes it now. Aerrik took the necklace from her hands and stood behind her to clasp the necklace around her neck. It was mesmerising.

"May it show you the right path. The light path."

Elia was not sure what he meant. What other path could she be on?

As if he could read her mind (or as if he had seen her future), "Just promise me you'll be happy."

Elia gave a smile. "I have known Oberyn for almost half my life. We will look after each other."

"Just because you can marry someone, does not mean you should marry them."

Her smile faltered and was replaced by a tentative frown. "Do you and Fallon ever regret your marriage?"

Aerrik hesitated. "No. I only wish we had the freedom that you and Oberyn have."

Elia was not sure what freedom she had when her marriage had been arranged by the Queen of her homeworld. The Queen of Aphelion was not someone you said no to. Elia had made her peace with marrying Oberyn. Perhaps she would never experience a pure and passionate love, but she felt safe with Oberyn. Was marriage supposed to be something grander? Wasn't the friendship between Elia and Oberyn all they needed? It did not feel like settling to Elia... but she did not want Oberyn to feel like she was settling with her. This grand scheme concocted by her mother had brought Elia and Oberyn lifetimes closer together. But Elia could not shake the feeling that in this marriage she would be shackling Oberyn to her — preventing him from living, preventing him from loving. They loved each other as friends, but what about when Oberyn found someone he loved as more than a friend? (What if Elia did too?) Elia did not want to make Oberyn unhappy in a lifetime of living with her because he was forced into it by the Queen of Aphelion.

Aerrik took the dress box out of Elia's hands and set it down on her bed. He took Elia's hands in his. Elia looked at the wedding band around his left ring finger. Not all cultures required the trading of rings, but it was a choice Fallon and Aerrik had made to feel closer to each other.

"If someone else has your heart, you should not forsake your own desires for the Queen's wishes." They fell quiet. Aerrik looked into her eyes as if he was searching for something. A confession waiting to spark on her tongue? The seeds of doubt planted in her heart and mind? "I'll let you get ready. I will be there for whatever you need. This is your life, Lana. Do not hesitate."

Aerrik left her alone, closing the door shut behind him. Elia brought her mother's wedding dress out of the box and laid it in front of her. She pulled off the simple white cotton dress she had been wearing while her make up and hair were styled and set about fitting into her mother's dress. The gown fit her like a glove. This was what she was supposed to wear today. She found a pair of small heels in her wardrobe: white and one of the most comfortable pairs she owned. The dress had a zipper on the back that she could only pull halfway, but she would ask Aerrik or someone to help her later. Then Elia set about making her veil.

She had a sewing kit next to her bed with all the supplies she would need. She had a vision and she got to work. It took a little over half an hour to make her veil, and go over the edges with her sewing machine that was kept safe and out of sight in her wardrobe. Elia kept the veil small, to fall over her half-up, half-down pinned hair, and she fitted it to the pins already slotted into her updo. She found her reflection in the mirror and smiled.

In her mother's gown, with her father's necklace, and a gift from the Naberries around her head like a protective halo, Elia felt the most like Alana Uttara she had since before the fire. The girl she had always been.

Another knock rang against the door. "Come in!" Elia called without hesitation. "Aerrik, can you help me with my dress a little, it's— Oh."

It was not Aerrik in her doorway, or handmaidens. Or even her Queen mother come to hurry her alone. It was Anakin.

"I... I needed to talk to you."

Elia folded her arms tightly in front of her. "Are you sure you can be in a room with me? When I next speak will you become cursed and run away again?"

"What?" A bemused expression settled on his face. "No."

"Then why are you here? If not to force me to not marry your brother so you can be rid of me?"

Anakin closed her bedroom door and strode towards her. There was a desperate shine in his eyes. "Do you love him? Do you love Oberyn?"

"Excuse me?" Elia reeled from him simply asking the question. "Yes. I do. He's like a brother to me."

"Is that what you are supposed to marry for?" He shortened the gap between them quickly in few, long paces. "Will you be happy, content, fulfilled with him?"

Who was he to ask? Anakin had shown no interest, no care towards her. Why was he changing now?

"There is a difference between loving and being in love."

Elia's gaze hardened. "What do you know of love?"

Anakin's eyes bore a fiery glare as he stared at her. "From the moment I saw you again in Kaldani Spires, I have been fighting against thoughts of you that consume me. I have been rotten to you, I know, but I cannot think of anything else but you. It tears me apart because I should not feel this way towards anyone — especially not you.

"Why 'especially me'?" Elia narrowed her eyes sceptically. "Because you're a Jedi or because you agree too much with what Athena thinks of me?"

"I should have been kinder to you, and more honest with myself."

"I never wanted Athena and me to be enemies. Everyone has blamed me for what happened. Ever since I have lived at the palace, I have been compared to Athena. Always second best to her. Like a dark cloud behind her shoulder. I didn't even care that much until I lost Padmé — the truest sister I have ever had — to Athena as well." Elia scoffed. "I don't know why I thought you of all people might see me separate from her."

"I see you now."

"No." Elia shook her head and moved backwards from Anakin. "It's too late. You are a Jedi, and I am getting married."

"You are in my soul, tormenting me. I cannot unknow you." Anakin's eyes were frustrated and hungry. Elia could not look away from him.

"Stop doing this, please. I have waited so long for you to notice me, I can't let it happen now. Not when I have been aching for you ever since I met you. With Oberyn, I have always been seen. We were chosen for each other, but I would choose him anyway." (An image of Oberyn shackled to her for the rest of her life plagues her mind. None of this is right.)

Anakin saw through her conflict, Elia could feel it. "I would choose you too, if you allowed me to have the chance."

They had become inches apart again. Anakin's breath was hot against her skin and sent goosebumps across her arms. He touched her chin and Elia could not look away. She was caught in his gravity. Anakin dipped his head and caught Elia's lips with his own.

Elia was convinced she was dreaming. It was wrong and she knew it. But she did not fight. Instead, Elia surrendered to the soaring feeling Anakin gave her. She moved her lips against Anakin's. She felt the fleeting freedom of a firework before it dissipated and realised she had never been kissed before. (The spark did not disappear: it caught fire.)

Then they both awoke from the dream. Elia opened her eyes into Anakin's. The kiss had lasted seconds. Guilt burned in her chest, but Elia felt more alive than she ever had. This time, he fled without another word, leaving Elia standing in the middle of her room — wishing he would come back.

✶

AUTHOR'S NOTE

it's bruna's birthday so i had to update 😁🤍 there are only four more chapters of attack of the clones and FINGERS CROSSED i'll get them done super soon!!

and now you know why i called this fic evenstar!! (we'll get even more into this later) the confession is super rushed, hopefully it reads better to you guys than it does for me. see you soon!