Jedi Representative Naberrie of Naboo

In legends she was the one who prepared her body for the funeral and due to this the inquisitors came to ask questions about the children and killed her when she refused to co-operate, it also hints at her being force sensitive, having a precognition on the day of her death something was wrong and knew the inquisitor would kill her.

This echoes the scene of Padme in revenge of the sith looking out at the city towards the Jedi temple knowing something was wrong. I will always despise the complete erasure of the Naberrie family with them only being seen at her funeral and in deleted scenes.

Sometime post-Endor.

….

Interviewer: And why do you think your daughter was so drawn to Skywalker, Mrs Naberrie?

Naberrie: She never… she didn’t get much of a childhood, you see. Or an adolescence. She was thrust into adulthood very quickly, and for all I have been so, overwhelmingly, proud of her… I’m her mother at the end of the day. Sometimes all I wanted for Padme was a bit of normalcy. Anakin provided that, I think.

She didn’t get much attention either, you see- or, she got a lot of attention- people have always wanted to know her, and be around her, ever since she was little- but not because of her, so much as what she represented or what she could give them. But Skywalker, he… he wanted her. Padme. That was it.

And he- he was sweet, really. Drowned her in affection and attention, worshipped the ground she walked on. Let her unwind, be free. And she leapt at it. It was the first of its kind she’d ever received. A teenage love. Infatuation.

But, in truth I hadn’t expected it to last so long. I thought it would be good for Padme, to be shown she was worthy of love and attention simply for being her. Have a bit of fun and then move on, find somewhere more like her, someone kinder. But she didn’t…

Interviewer: You seem… unhappy, with that.

Naberrie: [pause] …He wasn’t kind, you see… He could be quite cruel sometimes. Demanding. Anakin would hold her to a standard he didn’t keep himself, or he would be dismissive of her feelings. Things I hadn’t expected her to tolerate in a relationship. And… just strange sometimes, too.

Interviewer: Strange?

Naberrie: I’m not too sure how to explain it. Only that, she’d mention things to me, off-hand. About his views- on politics, the galaxy, on how a relationship should be. Views so different from her own. He seemed to me quite childish, selfish…

But then, Padme was often unkind too. Selfish. I- I can admit that, I feel. I should admit it. It was a failing of mine, to not protect her better from the responsibilities she was levied.

Interviewer: Her responsibilities made her selfish and unkind, you feel?

Naberrie: Yes. It was something she took from being Queen, I always felt. And then senator, so suddenly afterwards. She had so little that was only hers, and when she did- she could be so possessive over it. Protecting her peace- as they say- even if it came at a cost, even if it was unfair on those around her. Only as Queen, or as a senator, that peace was Naboo- the safety and security of her planet, and that kind of responsibility changes someone. The cost of protecting Naboo becomes compromising your own personal values and beliefs. It is making sacrifices for the good of the many. And thus having to realign the way you see things, frequently, in order to reconcile yourself to those sacrifices. And that bled into her personal life. Of course it would, for anyone.

Skywalker brought her a sense of security. He loved her, truly- and in a way, helped returned her adolescence to her. And she clung to that. Refused to divulge it, even if it meant staying with a man who could be cruel. Even if it meant subverting, adapting, abandoning her own beliefs to suit his, or to reconcile herself with the relationship.

She was happy. Anakin made her happy. I would never refute that. But I think she would have been happier, with someone else.

@caripr94 asked: Do you think that the Naberries would have ever agreed to let the Jedi take the twins away and separate them? If not, then I think we know why they didn't go to them, which makes it even worse

The Naberries will do whatever it takes to keep their children safe. However, like any family, they are not going to give up their children unless absolutely necessary. They will look to any other alternative. So, the question it really comes down to is was what was done in canon necessary? Were there alternatives?

Let’s start with the separation. There is a fanon that I subscribed to for years that Luke and Leia needed to be separated, because they were so strong in the Force. If they were together, Vader/the Emperor would be bound to find them. However, I have recently begun to reconsider that.

When Luke and Leia are reunited, and the Sith are actively, desperately hunting for them, the fact that they are together does not seem to help Vader or the Emperor discover the Rebel Base any faster. In fact, the only point where any bond in the Force became relevant was on Endor, and that was between Luke and Vader after Luke had acknowledged his bond with Vader and begun his training. Otherwise, neither would know what to reach for. Bonds exist, but have to be developed to become strong.

Now you might say Luke and Leia did not acknowledge their bond because they didn’t know they were siblings; that’s why they were not detected, but I think that’s silly. Luke and Leia were very close. They clicked immediately. The bond was there and strong, whatever they called each other. They missed each other and sensed the loss before they even met again. As a result, I think that fanon is baseless. And even with all that on Endor, with father and both twins close to each other, the Emperor still did not sense it. 

The reason then that Luke and Leia are separated is as a failsafe. If one of them gets discovered, then hopefully the Sith won’t think to look for another one. Separation was not necessary, just strategic. As a result, I don’t think the Naberries would have separated them, because, ironically, if Leia were not on Alderaan, there’s no way the Sith would not have been looking for twins if they were thinking to look for Anakin and Padme’s kid at all. (And if there was that much of a risk of them randomly going to the Lars homestead...Luke should never have been placed there.)

Think about it. Let’s say that the Sith find out the baby survived. How did they find out if no one told them? They either sensed it through the Force, in which case...why only the one kid and not both? Or, new evidence had cropped up. The only way for new evidence to crop up is if they either find the kid’s birth certificates, examine Padme’s body themselves and find no baby, but likely two placentas, or find the mortician who tells them there was no dead baby, but curiously two placentas which means two living babies. So, really, if they find out, they’re going to know there are two. 

In the comics, Tahn didn’t give away that there were twins, because Aphra was going in with pre-conceived notions. It was a stroke of luck and not much else. A stoke of luck that would not happen while the kids were anonymously growing up, because the Sith would not know to ask specifically if Padme had had a son. 

Hence, I would say the only reason separating them would possibly be necessary is if Leia goes to Alderaan. That way if someone looks at her, this daughter of high-profile royalty who looks just like Amidala, and figures it out, they won’t think to consider if she has a twin. If the twins are both on some farm on an Outer Rim world though...the only way anyone would even suspect is if they already knew. Ergo, separation is not necessary unless you have one of the twins, (Leia), stuck under Palpatine’s nose. 

So, now, the question is if the Naberries taking the children is too risky. If they immediately announced adopting babies after Padme’s funeral...then, yeah, I could see that being suspicious. Maybe both the kids should go to the Lars’ with the Naberries visiting as they grow up, funding their education etc. However, I think there is a way the Naberries could pull off raising the twins without suspicion. 

The Naberries are actually not a very prominent family. They had some glory when Ruwee was head of the Refugee Relief Movement, but it was Padme that really thrust them into fame. The Naberries come from a tiny village in the mountains that they helped build. They are not very active politically. I doubt Palpatine saw them as too much of a threat once Padme was gone. Palpatine did not much bother with Naboo in general. Once the initial threat of his attention after Padme’s death passed...the twins would probably be safer on Naboo than on Alderaan.

So, how do you avoid people talking about this sudden adoption of twins? Easy. Have Sola and Darred, (and yes, Sola had a husband, because that retcon makes no sense), move back to their little mountain village, (assuming that they are not already living there.) They’re pretty isolated. They can isolate themselves a bit more because they are grieving; no one would think anything of it. In the meantime, for the twins first few years, raise them in that village secretly.

Naboo doesn’t have a birth registry. When the kids are out of toddlerhood, just say they’re Sola and Darred’s. Claim they are about a year younger than they are. Who’s going to know that Sola didn’t get pregnant the year after Padme died? There’s enough family resemblance there to pull it off.  They could even pull off some epic fashion designs for a social event to make Sola seem pregnant if they wanted too. No one’s going to care.

As for Bail’s motivations though, I honestly think he didn’t think about talking to the Naberries, because like I talk about here, he’s all about the status quo. The Jedi made a decision; he went along with it. He patted himself on the back and thought he was doing the right thing and was even a bit heroic. He does not know the Naberries personally, and therefore thinks nothing of them.

Subconsciously, there may have been an element of not wanting to give Leia up because he wanted a daughter, (and maybe hoped Padme and Anakin’s kid would make a good heiress to the throne), but I am not so unkind as to think that that was his primary, conscious motivation. Bail is just a bit up himself sometimes is all, a bit out of touch, a bit arrogant. He’s not heartless though; I just think he can be a bit clueless sometimes. 

In not telling the Naberries, I don’t think he realized the kind of damage he was doing. And not just with the Naberries, but for Leia as well.  It’s fun of course to point out that technically Leia was kidnapped, but there are actually reasons beyond legal nitpicking, (and respect for the Naberrie’s) that adoptions need to be done properly. Studies have shown that adoptions that are done thoughtlessly like this, i.e. where it is the fault of the parent(s) and not just simply difficult circumstances which led to the child being separated fully from the birth family,  can cause children a lot of pain down the road. However, the potential psychological/emotional ramifications of these kinds of separations and adoptions are for another post. 

As for the Jedi, Yoda just made a snap decision. Did he think it through? Not likely. Oh, we need to find the kids a home. Bail says he’ll take one. Great! The other one can just go to Tatooine, I guess. They didn’t really give it all that much thought. 

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I’m sure they’ll all be fine. Ahsoka got away last time, right?

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Bonus: 

“You forget something, Lord Vader.”

Vader flinched, the voice as clear as a bell yet as foreign as the icy vacuum of space. He found himself frozen in place, the bulk of his hefty frame suddenly unbearable. Inside his chest, he felt the searing fingers of remorse and the scalding flames of rage warring for control. 

Against better judgment, he shifted to turn around. Against better judgment, he let down his guard and ignored unclipping his lightsaber. He knew the face he would find before he saw it, but he was still not prepared for the wave of emotion that spilled forth as he came face to face with his own ghosts. This one, he had expected long dead and buried.

“Padmé,” he gasped, but the voice that came out was blunt and deep and void of affection.

Still, the shock bled through. Padmé was as beautiful as the day he’d last seen her. Eyes fierce and determined, dark hair coming loose from her neatly tied bun. Her face was set in a scowl, blaster drawn and aiming straight for the chest panel on Vader’s chest as if it were a marked target meant for practice and precision fire. The air had shifted, the tension thick and heavy and oppressive as they stared each other down. No, more accurately Padmé’s intense, fiery glare was bearing down on Vader. Vader felt his anger dissipate the moment he met that stare; the ice cold regret and guilt crippling him inside out as it won the impasse.

“You said you had come to destroy the Rebellion. I am the last leader standing here. I alone. Will you destroy me now?” Padmé hissed through a clenched jaw, cheeks flushed but her hands steady.

Vader was familiar with the vow he had made, but now it seemed an impossible lie. Before his mind’s eye, he had envisioned old men and snot nosed kids. Politicians and traitors and cowards, incapable of accepting the Emperor’s grand design and his expert vision. The future was bright, the Sith had reclaimed their natural state in the circle of life - atop the ladder. Only fools and children would oppose such an evident supply of unlimited power. Yet, Padmé seemed to care for none of these things. Time had not slowed her down, it had not thawed the ice built in her heart - the ice Vader himself had put there.

“Well?” she pressed, voice tight, calm and collected.

The words escaped before Vader had any chance to rein himself in. Perhaps he never intended to.

“No.”

“No?” she repeated, as if mocking him but her expression revealed surprise and disbelief.

“Aren’t you here to execute your Rebel traitors?”

Vader said nothing, instead he reached for the saber strapped to his belt. He watched Padmé tense, watched her shoulder come up and the finger on the trigger twitch. In what might have been a gesture of surrender, he simply tossed his weapon between them. The gesture was barely a flick of his wrist, but it sent the hilt skidding across the smooth floors until it came to an premeditated gentle stop at Padmé’s feet. She glanced down to regard the token, an unreadable tinge of something somber gleaming in her eyes for a split second. When she looked back up, Vader had not moved. He stood with his hands at his sides, the bombardment outside the underground bunker shaking its hull; straining the already flickering lights.

“I will not fight you,” said Vader finally, as if that would be enough to soothe the woman’s stubborn spirits.

She furrowed her brow, the corner of her lips curling into a half sneer of disgust. It stung, and Vader might have recoiled from that alone had he not been the man he was. Changed, remolded and retooled. His heart had been ripped out once, and still Padmé’s presence willed its withered carcass to beat and blossom. At the same time, she tore it to shreds once more with the disdain her face held for him. He sensed it inside her, swirling and expanding into a palpable loathing. It cloaked her, surrounded her like a cloud. It reeked of pain, sorrow, and betrayal.

“You don’t know me. If you won’t fight, I will,” she said, every word calculated and sincere.

“‘Aggressive negotiations’.”

It was merely a statement, but its meaning rang true. Padmé straightened up, eyes suddenly wide as a ghost of horrified recognition filtered past her defenses. it was gone in the blink of an eye, but the colour that had drained from her already pale face was harder to conceal.

“Who told you?” she snarled, shifting the aim of her blaster towards Vader’s heart - knowing it would do no harm, but the gesture hit him like a slap across the face either way.

She was questioning how he had learned about her and The Jedi. Anakin Skywalker, her husband. Perhaps she had her sneaking suspicions, she must. But her aura betrayed none of it, it remained outraged and unsettled and adamant in her quest.

“You did.”

Padmé opened her mouth to deliver another scathing retort, but she snapped it close again. A tremor passed her slight frame, and it did not go unnoticed. Her resolve was faltering and waning, the lie she had convinced herself to believe no less a stretch of the imagination than the mental gymnastics Vader himself had been performing for the past four years. Ever since Mustafar, ever since he lost everything. Now, that very everything lost stood before him. Now, she was once more within his reach.

“I’m sorry. I tried,” he heard himself say, a feeble apology not nearly sufficient to excuse the heinous acts he had committed.

The voice was still not his own, but the words were earnest. Padmé lowered her blaster in slow, jerky motions but her eyes were transfixed on his. At the very least, Vader felt their gaze burn straight into his soul; into the furnace of his heart that had frozen over a million times. 

“You’re safe.”

It was a ridiculous profession, Padmé’s very existence as part of the Rebellion was a death sentence. But she was alive, she was well and healthy and stable and here. She had not died. He had failed her, but she had lived. He took one step towards her, feeling just as wary and insecure as she looked. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head in a tiny micromovement. She mouthed something, but there was no sound accompanying the motion. Vader understood her fear, yet it pained him to no end. He was unrecognizable, locked within this jettblack prison of durasteel, cybernetics and synth flesh. There was so little left of his physical body, and even less of the man Padmé had once loved.

“It can’t be…” she whispered, hoarse as the tendons at the sides of her neck strained.

Vader felt the urge to cry, an urge so overpowering. An urge that had not found him since Mustafar, since the fall of the Jedi and the Republic. He had no tears to cry, no measure to shed tears by. His retinas, his tear ducts were long since eaten away by flames and embers. Still, his eyes stung. A warmth pressed behind them, a heaviness bearing down on his chest like a fist squeezing the air out of his lungs. Lungs he no longer had.

“Do what you must. I am not afraid to die.”

Padmé’s eyes widened, mouth falling open as realization dawned upon her. She understood. Vader expected her to back away, expected her to cry, to yell, to fire. Anything. Instead, she stood stone faced. As frail as porcelain, yet as sturdy as the brightest star in the Galaxy. Now, she took a step towards him. Then another. Closing the gap, inch by inch, foot by foot. She tipped her head back, never once drawing her eyes from the opaque crimson lenses of Vader’s eyes that substituted eyes. They served for the damaged, half blind eyes hidden behind.

“What have they done to you?” Padmé’s resolute voice murmured; full of compassion and love, emotions that seemed to have sprung out of the ether.

Yet, what she really meant was; what have you done to yourself?

Vader did not falter as she stopped but a breath away. Her trembling, slender fingers reached for his face plate. Her tiny hand brushed over the mouthpiece, running over the sharp angles and the netted grill. A breath was forced through it, with a loud hiss and the smell of sanitizer and bacta fluids followed it. Padmé’s eyes were round, warm, and mournful. They were glassy, her cheeks flushed but it was Vader who wished more than ever that he might shed a tear. If she were to strike him down, he deserved it. He would allow it. He would let her.

“Anakin.”

It was not a question. She knew, it was evident in the pitiful, feeble smile of shock and relief alike that grazed her lips. It was gone in an instant, but it had said enough. So used to denouncing his name, denouncing himself and all he was and had been - Vader found himself unable to deflect her. She was right. He had been wrong for so long, choosing to live in darkness and denial. No more.

“Yes.”

Anakin meant it.

****

Star Wars + Family: Naberrie