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Sabé’s body is hurting and sweat is dripping down her face because of the fever, so it’s not a wonder when her lips are quicker than her mind, and the words get spilled before she has any chance to stop them.
“I think I love you. I always have.”
The tender hand running cold rags on her forehead and neck stops, just for a second, but Sabé has learnt through the years to understand every movement Padmé makes. So she feels it, and her heart breaks in anticipation. Because Sabé knows when her words sound like a petition, and she knows Padmé can only give so much of herself.
Finally, Padmé resumes her ministrations. Her free hand travels to Sabé’s cheek and caresses softly.
“My Tsabin…” Sabé opens her eyes and tries to ignore the tears that start falling down. Padmé places the rags on the night table and climbs further on the huge bed, both hands cupping her face.
“I’m Sabé, I’ll always be. That’s all I’ll ever need.” There’s a moment of silence and then Sabé adds, “I won’t ask for more. I’m sorry I said that.”
Padmé nods and doesn’t stop looking straight into her eyes. Sabé is feverish, but years of training are still there, sounding every alarm because there’s something in Padmé’s face she can’t piece together and that’s new. That’s uncertain and frightening. She can always tell what Padmé is thinking except…
Except Padmé leans forward and places her lips carefully, tentatively, over hers, more a petition than a proper kiss. And Sabé can’t move, can’t think, because she never thought, never allowed herself to imagine.
“I didn’t believe you wanted me… Like that. And I never wanted to put that kind of pressure on you,” Padmé says with a small chuckle, and then runs her hands over Sabé’s cheeks. “But I can be whatever you want me to be, just stay with me. I wouldn’t know in which direction the galaxy spins without you.”
For a moment Sabé considers the possibility of being dreaming, but then Padmé presses their foreheads together and kisses the tip of her nose. She stays there, close enough that it’s hard for Sabé to focus her eyes but she doesn’t mind.
Sabé extends a careful hand until she can run it through Padmé’s hair. It’s rare to see her with her hair down, and Sabé enjoys the silky texture of it and plays with the curly tips. She’s buying herself time to piece together this new surprising, marvelous, vital piece of information about Padmé.
“I love you. So much,” Sabé repeats it again, but this time with intent and determination. She looks at Padmé steadily and says so much more with her eyes… She knows, she hopes, Padmé is getting all of that as well.
“I love you too, Tsabin.”
And for the first time since she met Queen Amidala, Sabé finds her own name beautiful.