Ten years later...

Chapter Thirteen
Mira

The soft, melodious tolling of the morning bells floated through the open window, their mellow sound resonating gently with each vibration against the stone sill. The serene chime seemed to play a tune of its own, a harmonious symphony heralding the dawn of a momentous day. As the ethereal melody filled the chamber, a warm smile blossomed on my face, for today was the day of my coronation. The thought alone sent a rush of excitement coursing through my veins. I was about to become the queen of Lothal, the very role that seemed so distant and unattainable just a short while ago.

Padmé, my devoted handmaiden and confidant, fluttered about the room with a flurry of activity. She moved with an elegant grace, her eyes shimmering with excitement that mirrored my own. Her gentle touch and soothing presence served as a balm to my nerves, which were beginning to fray with anticipation. Her meticulous preparations were a testament to the gravity of the event and the profound love she held for me.

Turning towards me, she held up a magnificent headpiece, a questioning smile playing upon her lips. "You okay?" she inquired, her voice a gentle whisper in the sacred space we shared.

"I'm fine," I replied, the corners of my mouth lifting to return her smile, "just can't quite believe that I'm going to be queen."

Padmé's smile grew brighter, her eyes sparkling with joy. She stepped closer, her hands deftly working their magic on my hair. I had specifically requested her assistance, for her own coronation had been a sight to behold, one that had captivated the Naboo people. Her regal poise had been a beacon of hope and strength, and I yearned to embody the same qualities.

"You will do wonderfully," she assured me, her voice filled with unwavering belief, "and you will rule with the beauty and might that I have always seen within you. Your father would be so proud."

The mention of my father brought a soft smile to my face, the warmth of his memory briefly eclipsing the shadows of his untimely demise. The attack on Naboo had occurred a decade prior, and the sting of loss remained as potent as ever. Yet, the promise of vengeance remained unfulfilled, the killer still roaming free—a single regret marring the otherwise gleaming tapestry of the past.

I pushed the dark thoughts aside, focusing instead on the present. "Do you think Obi-Wan and Anakin will attend?" I asked, unable to keep the anticipation from my voice. The Jedi had become like family to me, a bond forged in the fires of shared adversity.

Padmé's expression grew thoughtful. "I am certain Obi-Wan will be there," she said, "his dedication to the Order is unquestionable, and Anakin, as his Padawan, will surely accompany him."

With a final flourish, Padmé finished my hair, and together we moved to the full-length mirror that stood as a silent sentinel against one wall. My reflection stared back at me, a vision in crimson splendor. The gown was a masterpiece, the deep red fabric whispering of power and passion, shimmering ever so slightly with the promise of hidden riches—silk, perhaps, or some other precious material that spoke of royalty. The long sleeves cascaded down to my wrists, their elegant draping revealing just enough of my arms to accentuate their feminine curves.

The neckline was high and modest, yet it bore an intricate design that spoke of ancient Lothalian traditions and the nobility of the royal line. The belt that encircled my waist was not merely a decorative piece but a symbol of unity and strength, its geometric pattern woven with threads of gold or silver and adorned with gleaming gems that reflected the light.

My hair was a tapestry of braids, each strand meticulously woven to form an elaborate crown that encircled my head. It was a masterpiece of coiffure, a silent declaration of the power and grace that would soon be mine to wield.

The real crown, however, was a spectacle to behold. A regal diadem, it sat atop my head, its points or spikes reaching skyward, a silent testament to the might and valor of the queens who had come before me. The jewels embedded within it were like stars in a night sky, capturing the light and casting it back in a dazzling array of colors. The metallic accents glinted with each movement, a reminder that I was now a beacon for my people.

With a final nod of approval, Padmé took my hand, her grip firm and comforting. "Let's go," she urged, her voice brimming with excitement.

We descended the grand staircase, the plush carpet beneath my feet muffling the sound of our approach. The corridor leading to the coronation hall was lined with the faces of the Lothalian people, their smiles wide and eyes filled with hope. They had gathered to pay homage to my father, and in doing so, to embrace me as their new queen.

My heart skipped a beat as my eyes searched the throng for my Jedi guardians and their families. Anakin, his mother Shmi, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon—their presence was a balm to my soul, a reminder that I was not alone in this monumental endeavor.

As I approached the altar, Padmé stepped aside, allowing me to stand before the priest who would soon anoint me as the ruler of Lothal. His eyes searched my soul, and I felt the gravity of the oath that was about to be placed upon me.

"Mira Selene, daughter of the esteemed King Draven and rightful heir to the throne of Lothal, are you prepared to assume the mantle of queen?" he intoned, his words heavy with the weight of tradition and expectation.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I replied, "I am ready."

The priest's gaze never wavered. "Do you solemnly swear to uphold the sacred covenants of Lothal, to shield your people and land with unyielding valor and fortitude?"

"I do," I answered, my voice clear and strong, the words resonating through the vast chamber.

"And do you pledge your very essence to the governance of Lothal, vowing to reign with wisdom, compassion, and unfailing justice?"

"I do," I affirmed, my conviction unshakeable.

With the grace of a man accustomed to such momentous occasions, the priest raised the crown high above his head, the gems casting a kaleidoscope of light upon the upturned faces of my subjects. The hall grew still, the air pregnant with anticipation.

"By the power invested in me," he announced, "I crown you, Mira Selene, as the true and rightful queen of Lothal. May your reign be as eternal as the stars and as prosperous as the sands of time!"

The delicate yet potent weight of the crown settled upon my head, the jewels seeming to pulse with an inner light. The room erupted in a cacophony of applause and cheers, the sound resonating through the chamber like the beating of a thousand wings.

I stood tall, my heart swelling with pride and a profound sense of duty. This was my destiny, my purpose, and as the applause washed over me, I knew that with the love and support of my people, and the unwavering faith of my friends, I would lead Lothal into a new era of peace and prosperity.

-

Qui-Gon

Following Mira's grand coronation, the three of us—Anakin, Obi-Wan, and I—found ourselves enveloped in the lively banquet hall, where the air pulsed with the infectious rhythms of laughter and the harmonious melodies of Lothal's traditional music. The vibrant acoustics of the dancers' movements resonated throughout the vast chamber, their graceful steps and twirls painting a mesmerizing tapestry of color and motion across the gleaming floor. Each performer, adorned in a kaleidoscope of fabrics that shimmered under the chandeliers, brought to life the ancient dances that whispered the tales of Lothal's storied past.

Anakin, recently knighted, had grown in stature and confidence. The soft blue of his eyes mirrored his complex emotions for Mira—a profound blend of admiration and a nascent, unspoken love. His presence had become more commanding since the last time we'd seen her, reflecting the burgeoning responsibilities of his Jedi status.

Perched atop a low table that served as our vantage point over the bustling festivities, I couldn't help but marvel at the dancers' intricate movements. Their choreography seemed to weave together the very threads of our culture, creating a visual narrative of elegance and power.

"Look at them," I exclaimed, gesturing to the dancers, "It's as if they're bringing our heritage to life with every step they take!"

Anakin's gaze remained transfixed on Mira, now a queen in the eyes of her people. "It's not just the dances," he murmured, his voice a testament to his awe. "It's Mira. She really is a queen now. She's... she's everything," he said, his voice a delicate mix of reverence and something deeper, something unspoken.

Obi-Wan, ever the astute observer, couldn't resist a gentle jab. "Ah, it seems our young knight has found his muse," he quipped with a knowing smile, his elbow nudging Anakin playfully.

Anakin shot him a sideways glare, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I just... I want to make sure she's okay. She's been through so much pain," he replied, his voice earnest and sincere.

I joined the conversation, eager to reassure him. "Anakin, it's admirable of you to want to protect her. But remember, she's a strong and capable individual. She'll find her own path, whether you're by her side or not," I said, a warm smile gracing my lips.

Obi-Wan offered his wisdom, his voice a soothing balm. "The best thing you can do is to remain true to yourself, Anakin. Continue to support her as you have, and she will recognize the depth of your feelings."

The tempo of the music grew more insistent, and I could feel the excitement in the air. Without further ado, I leaped from the table, extending my hands to both Anakin and Obi-Wan. "Let's not just stand here! We must join the celebration!"

With a moment's hesitation, Anakin gave in to the festive spirit, a broad grin spreading across his features. We moved in time with the rhythmic beats, our laughter intertwining with the symphony of sounds that filled the grand hall. The dance floor was a swirl of colors and figures, a reflection of the unity and joy that permeated the evening.

Before long, Mira approached us, her coronation attire now transformed into a gown that was both elegant and powerful. The predominantly black bodice, with its intricate scale-like texture, spoke of her strength and resilience. The deep red skirt, billowing around her, was a vivid declaration of her passion and resolve.

"You look absolutely stunning, Mira!" I exclaimed, taking in the exquisite detail of her attire. The V-neckline framed her delicate collarbones, while the armor-inspired shoulder pieces lent her an air of regal fierceness. The skirt's vertical pleats fluttered around her legs with every step she took, a visual metaphor for the grace and power she embodied. The gold and metallic embellishments adorning her torso reflected the light like a crown's jewels, enhancing the grandeur of the gown.

Her smile was radiant as she drew closer. "Thank you, Qui-Gon. I wanted to feel like royalty today," she said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice despite her poised exterior.

Anakin's eyes searched hers, his voice filled with earnestness. "You look like a queen, Mira. You're going to achieve great things. I know it," he assured her.

Obi-Wan offered his own congratulations, his expression one of pride. "Indeed, your grace and strength are a testament to your lineage. Your reign will be one of peace and prosperity," he predicted, his gaze brimming with faith in her future.

As we danced, I felt the warmth of their friendship and belief in Mira's ability to lead. The bond between them was palpable, and it filled my heart with joy to see them all so happy.

The night grew late, and the once-blazing fires of exhilaration began to smolder into the gentle warmth of contentment. My energy waned, the thrill of the dance slowly giving way to the gentle embrace of fatigue. I stepped aside, watching as Obi-Wan and Anakin continued to whirl Mira around the floor, their faces alight with happiness.

Their laughter, Mira's especially, was like a beacon, cutting through the cacophony of music and chatter. Their friendship, a bastion of light in the vast sea of celebration, was a reminder of the profound connections we share.

I leaned against the cool marble wall, basking in the joyful scene before me. The banquet hall was a whirlwind of color and light, a visual feast that seemed to dance in time with the music. Yet, amidst the flurry, my heart remained fixed on the trio, understanding that this was not just a night of revelry but a milestone for each of them. Mira's journey to the throne was fraught with challenges, but she was now the queen she was always meant to be, flanked by companions who loved and believed in her.

And as the music played on, my own weariness forgotten, I reveled in the warmth of their shared happiness. This night, a celebration of new beginnings, was a testament to the enduring bonds that define not just Mira's reign but the very fabric of their friendship.