Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Pandora and her box.

Now Zeus was a vengeful god. He ordered his fellow Olympians to create a beautiful woman, as lovely as a goddess.

.

.

There once was a girl who longed to explore the stars and devour everything life had to offer.

The unknown tore at her skin, whispering sweet words into her ear, pumping throughout her blood. The child longed for knowledge and since the moment she was born and searched for it readily.

She started with Naboo's many gardens where there was so much to see and learn, ghosting through the yards and committing them to memory until she knew the plants forwards and back.

Once she had seen everything the gardens had to offer, she spread her imagination to the rest of the galaxy, striving to learn all that there was and see all the beauty of the worlds.

She faced the changing planets head on and devoured what knowledge she could get her hands. Some believed it was this thirst for the unknown that led her to politics but Padme liked to think it was what she had known, not what she did not, that led her to that particular path.

.

.

Hephaestus, the smith god, worked the earth and water to flow through her, keeping her at one with the world.

.

.

She seemed to float through life with her own set of wings.

Life pushed through her skin, calling out and propelling her until she could not stop. Many envied the young queen from Naboo, the child who ran into battle with a smile on her face and a song on her lips, the child who never accepted defeat.

There were some who called her mad and would not listen to what she had to offer, but the rest were drawn to her, to the way she seemed at peace with all the worlds, with the dirt and the trees, no matter how different from her own they were.

Some say this was her down fall.

.

.

Athena, goddess of wisdom, taught her weaving and crafts.

.

.

Padme smiled at her niece as she tied off the straw. "There! One original Naberrie doll, all finished."

Pooja screamed in delight and grabbed the doll out of her aunt's hand, running around in excitement. "Thank you Auntie Padme! I wish mama could create things like you do."

The young queen laughed. "Your very welcome Pooja, but don't let your mother ever hear you say that. She may not have my affinity for the arts, but she has many talents of her own."

The child nodded solemnly then ran off to play with her doll, leaving her aunt alone.

This was only fitting. After all, Padme was always alone.

.

.

Aprodite, goddess of beauty, gave her irresistible charm.

.

.

Blood pooled the skies. Death chased the living, Darkness haunted the galaxy, shadows pulled the light into oblivion. Some would run, but none could escape.

She stood like a beacon, her words lifting the lost, her smile chasing the dark. Her hope never wavered and her courage never fizzled. They latched onto her like blind men, hanging on her every word, waiting for her to pull them out of the pit.

When would they learn that she couldn't?

.

.

Hermes, god of imagination, gave her a devious nature and mischievously called her Pandora.

.

.

Stars faded and planets burned.

Winds blew heavy and her hope began to shrink. Try as she might, she could not get it to grow.

She could brighten lives with a smile, melt hearts with a tear, and she played the weak without a thought.

Senator Amidala was once as a flower, always pure and never wilting. But winter came to chase away the spring and now she was shriveled, nothing but a cold, broken shell.

Padme once believed in her cause, but now she didn't think she believed in anything.

.

.

When Zeus tempted Epimetheus with Pandora, he found he could not resist and gave up all trepidation. After all, who could deny such a gift?

.

.

Anakin moved in his sleep and Padme smiled into his neck. "You're perfect Ani."

It had been the first night in months that she had seen him and she couldn't help the warmth that burned her skin.

There was a chuckle above her and she blinked in surprise, slowly looking up.

Her husband's eyes were shining. "Perfect huh? I knew you believed it."

Padme huffed. "You're dreaming, I would never say that."

Anakin continued to laugh. "Oh you can't fool me." Before she could reply, he caught her lips with his and her heart soared.

The sky might fall, but she would always have Anakin.

.

.

Now, Pandora, like most mortals, was curious.

.

.

The world imploded.

She stared into the eyes of her once mentor and couldn't distinguish what she'd seen.

His eyes seemed to glow and his lips curved upwards. The smirk set her bones on fire and she was drowning, drowning, drowning.

He could see into her soul, could see what made her Padme, and it terrified her, confused her, ate at her.

He sensed her agitation just as he sensed all things.

"My dear, how lovely it is to have you at my disposal. You may be independent, but I will always own you."

Try as she might, she was never able to convince herself it was a dream.

.

.

There was an urn, a powerful jar that had been forbidden to open. When Pandora came across it, she found her curiosity could not be contained and so she slowly lifted the lid to see what the jar had to offer.

.

.

"We'd be forced to live a lie. I couldn't live like that. Could you Anakin? Could you live like that?"

"No, you're right. It would destroy us."

The words replayed themselves over and over again. In her mind she knew they were true, but she could not stop that little voice that would state all the reasons why she should. She could not stop imagining what it would be like to kiss those lips, couldn't help but wonder how it would finally feel to do something for herself.

Slowly her heart over powered her mind and her curiosity over powered her self-preservation.

.

.

Once opened, all the horrors imaginable fled from the jar, filling the once peaceful world with sorrow and despair.

.

.

Burning, burning, burning.

Her lungs were burning and her heart was bursting.

Anakin, her husband, stood over her, his grin feral and his eyes a glow.

It was the eyes that scared her the most. I will always own you. She really should have known.

She cried, pleaded, begged, but he would not stop, would not see sense.

He raged, gloated, smiled, and she did not think her heart could take the pain.

"Anakin, you're breaking my heart!"

Oh, my dear, he's broken more than your heart.

.

.

But as the evils flew, there was still hope at the bottom of the jar.

.

.

As life left Padme, so did strength leave the living. All that fighting, all that pain, and the republic fell.

But, even as the world fell apart, the pieces were already beginning to come together again.

For on opposite sides of the galaxy, two babies began to cry.