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Elia felt as though she was rolling in her grave. A fish waiting to be caught on a hook. She laughed to herself then: what did she have to fear when it was not her life at risk? Across her nineteen years, her two lives, Padmé had been the kind of constant that only Aerrik could otherwise be. And yet the waiting, the bitter taste of the unknown, the anticipation snaking through her organs, would not let her rest. Every fibre of Elia's body was ready to fight for Padmé Amidala, whatever it took. She laid in bed, stiff as a board, head turned to look out beyond the thin veil of curtains at the city. The apartment was silent. Elia's body twitched, aching to move, and she finally surrendered.
Pulling herself out of bed, Elia shrugged on a chunky knit cardigan over her pyjamas (she had knitted it herself — one of her earliest creations before she had moved on fabric when she realised wool did not like working with her). She snuck out of her room, darting towards the kitchen. The air was cool, the rooms only lit by passing speeders and moonlight. She found Aerrik snoozing on one of the sofas. She felt bad that he had stayed. He had even refused one of the spare rooms. It made Elia's heart ache for how much he cared for Padmé and herself (and sweet Violet, if he was ever allowed to see her in the Temple). Her brother looked more peaceful than she had seen him in a very long time. She was almost tempted to wake him, but Aerrik deserved his rest. She had not told him of her quickly made plan to, Elia supposed, use herself as bait as Aerrik would have immediately shot it down.
Elia had her comm clutched in her hand and walked to stand by one of the viewports. The curtains were drawn shut, slim rays of light slipping through. The living space was silent besides her footsteps and Aerrik's tiny snores, they were the only ones there. Setting the volume on its lowest setting, Elia commed her future husband.
When the hologram of Oberyn Skywalker Naberrie appeared in her hands, Elia felt at peace. After almost a decade of knowing each other, Oberyn was counted as one of Elia's closest friends and confidants. He understood her in a way no one else did, and they shared more in common than most people in Elia's life.
The Princess was fourteen when her mother announced that she was going to marry her daughter to Naboo's new favourite rising star. Elia had protested for weeks, wondering how she could free herself from an arranged marriage, but there were worse men to marry. Oberyn had the sweetest heart and Elia knew she would be having him beside her for the rest of her life. But she did not love him in that way. And knowing she would not be able to truly fall in love again weighed heavy on her chest.
Five months earlier, Oberyn had climbed to the highest office on Naboo and was elected King. Their engagement had been publicised greatly by Elia's mother, but Elia couldn't complain when it allowed her to swap her other duties in favour of seeing her friend. It was easy, and she was aware how fortunate she was. After ten years as a princess and a royal wedding, Elia was ready to be out from under her mother's thumb. (Maybe she could be Alana again when she was with Oberyn.)
