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Missing Scenes
Pre Attack of the Clones: The Binding of a Knight's Token
The hour is late and the quarters of both the Queen and her maidens are dark save for one.
The meditation room or training hall as it is known is dimly lit. Candles flicker casting an eerie glow as shadows dance all around the one who sits in the middle cross-legged. But if she is aware of the strange beauty around her it doesn’t show as she is in a state of meditation, despite the fact her fingers deftly move of their own accord. Weaving the coloured ribbon around a rather worn and frayed strand of braided hair.
The handmaiden knew she should be resting; the day ahead would be long and demanding. But her heart would not permit her rest until this task was complete and so she remained.
The blade is the spirit of a warrior. As such one must always be careful with what charms they choose to bind to it. For it will forever bear a mark on one’s heart…
She could almost hear Tame’s voice speaking in grave tones when Sabe was first presented with the Katana that now rests neatly on her lap.
She knew of the old rituals performed among the ancient’s members of the Old Guard. For she had studied it as part of her training, but never in a million years did she ever consider the fact that one day she would be performing them.
Then again she never imagined that it would be a Jedi Knight who would make such an impression on her, that his mark would forever be etched on her heart. The mere thought of his name had a profound effect on the handmaiden. Causing her meditations to take her thoughts back to those brief days together with such clarity that she could almost feel the soft grass beneath her feet and his hand fitting into hers as though they were but two pieces of a puzzle that were meant to be together.
'To let you know that I admire you, Sabé, and I hope you won't forget me.'
His accented voice echoed in her thoughts as Sabe’s fingers continue to weave, binding the burgundy and rustic orange ribbon to the small braid. But as his voice slips away the words of the ancient ceremonies begins to haunt her as well.
Burgundy. The avatar colour of the warrior forced to draw their blade in the name of justice, freedom; all that serves the name of harmony and order. Orange. The colour of courage that bleeds from crimson the colour of sacrifice and the colour yellow that is the joy brought on by the rewards that awaits them for their bravery.
As these words are recited in her mind Sabe continues her weaving binding the small braid to the ribbon so that only the burgundy and orange remain visible.
'Do all of your people have an ill opinion of the Jedi or is it just Eirtaé?'
The words replay in her mind as Sabe could almost see his tilted head and curious expression as the nlight danced on his features. How naive and ignorant she had been at the time. If only she knew now what she did then.
'…We use our gift, training to become Jedi Knights to aid the Republic, preventing injustice, fighting for the rights of those who are unable to do so themselves. We promote peace throughout the galaxy and help solve disputes in a peaceful manner...'
The memory causes a smile to play on her features though she remained still within her state meditation. Though she had only known the knight for but a short period of time, his memory remained poignant and strong making it easy for Sabe to tap into it when she was strong enough to do so. However as time passed she found it was almost easier not to dwell on those fateful days their paths crossed. For in truth the fondness she had felt towards the young Jedi knight hadn’t lessened over the years, but rather grown making it almost painful to visit the past.
However tonight was different. Instead of finding the wistful sadness that came from missing his peaceful presence, she only felt silent determination and devotion to complete this in his memory.
Sabe knew there was a distinct possibility she would never see him again; yet this did little to cause her to deviate from her need to keep this small part of him close to her. She had almost lost the small relic in her foolish haste, she would not make that mistake again.
Though she would never consider herself worthy to be compared to the Old Guard, the decoy recognized the truth that Obi-Wan is one. Even though he went by another title, all that he stood for was no different then what the protectors of Naboo represented. As such it only made perfect sense that she would perform this ritual. Out of respect and admiration of all he served and fought for.
Lost in her thoughts she doesn’t notice the hours slipping away like sands in an hourglass. Leaving Sabe completely unaware of the thin rays of the rising sun that begins to peep through the blinds of the mediation room. For it is not until she had completed the elegantly woven but simple braid does she stir from her meditations.
Then opening her eyes she casts a glance to the ribbon that now decorates the blade’s hilt and silently slips her fingers around it. Feeling the simple ribbon wrapped around her hand she can’t help but notice the sense of peace it seems to offer her spirit as she does so. It would seem the legends about the use of charms weren’t so farfetched after all she inwardly mused. As she rose to her feet the handmaiden gently sighs feeling tired but more at peace then she has in a long time.
Quietly she moves to extinguish out the last of the candles only to discover to her surprise that all of the small wax pillars had burnt out. That is saving for two, which had now melted into one. For though two separate wicks remain well lit and flickering, the wax pillars to which they had extended from had melded due to their close proximity and the warmth exuded from their dancing flames.
As she approached the remaining candle with the two flames, Sabe found herself unable to shake the feeling that in this simple but poignant sight held an unspoken message. If only she could say what it was, but it was strong enough to cause her to hesitate before quietly turning away as she leaves it to burn quietly in her absence.
