FicWad

*Author’s Note: The scene that couldn't all fit in the previous posting on the lj picks up immediately below!










A simple examination of the psychological profiles and personality tests administered to each hopeful candidate who applies for handmaiden training in combination with a few questions about any strong ties the women may have formed amongst each other during their training and a simple cursory examination of their physical appearances could have done the job almost as well, but Obi-Wan understands why the other, already trained handmaids and former handmaids have hesitated to do that, now that he knows just how extensive their misunderstanding of his far-sight visions generally was. Having him do it here, on the spur of the moment, without any recourse to far-sight, will reassure them that people can do their jobs and do them well without having to rely on any kind of precognition and help them stop worrying about accidentally doing something, in the course of their work, that will somehow upset the balance and negate the possible future he’s seen and so doom Naboo and the galaxy to suffering and darkness. Besides, it’s the very least he can do for them, after failing to notice that Keiana Apailana and her handmaids as well as Sabé, Dormé, and the others were misinterpreting some of the meaning and purpose of his visions and worrying unnecessarily about somehow upsetting the probably outcomes of those visions. And it’s not as if it’s a particularly time-consuming or difficult task. So he indulges them and provides them comfort by relaxing, opening himself up a bit more and stretching out to the Force, and then simply looking at the ten women, examining them closely and meticulously with his eyes as well as the Force, trying to get a feel for them as individuals with distinct facial features and overall bodily shapes that are undeniably their own, as partners or friends already bound by strong ties, and as sentient beings who exist within (and are, at least possibly, capable of interaction with) the embrace of the Force.

Ché Llacharn, Missé Kevarydd, Chloé Alaunos, Maighé Meharrion, and Cissé Hannieca, Merlé Talsun, Brighé Nunarnia, Lanné Jamdarien, Joilé Kincaer, and Marté Novaren. The first four more closely resemble Padmé than the other six, as Padmé had been left in desperate need of handmaidens able to play decoys, following the last attempt on her life before the attack in which her life was finally claimed. Ché has Padmé’s heart-shaped face, complete with strong jaw and sharp chin, though her mouth is fuller (both lips thicker, with the upper lip being shaped more like a bow), her eyes and hair are a bit darker, the shape of her nose is a little broader at the base, and her eyebrows are naturally shaped more like Sabé’s strongly arched, almost triangular ones are rather than Padmé’s oddly straight ones were. She’s a bit curvier than Padmé was or Sabé (or Dormé, for that matter) is, and, aside from her obvious strength in the Force, she feels more like Padmé in the Force (charismatic and full of fire, both vital and strong, and filled with integrity and intelligence in equal measure) than Sabé, whose mere presence has somehow always been soothing to him, but Obi-Wan has a feeling that, in Queen’s robes, no one would likely be able to notice the difference. There’s almost a dimple in her chin and her ears don’t exactly give the illusion of being flush with her head, but she feels like someone who will get along with Sabé, channeling all of that fire and vigor into helping her and protecting her, and she looks enough like Sabé that Obi-Wan can’t imagine her being happy with Dormé (whose nature is just too similar to Ché’s to allow for an easy Lady and handmaiden type of relationship between the two) the same way she would be with Sabé. There’s an almost tangibly strong sense of connection between Ché and Maighé, an easily equally Force-strong and fiery-natured woman whose strong jaw and sharp chin also resembles Padmé’s but whose face is a little longer, more like Sabé’s, in its overall shape. Maighé has a nose more like Dormé (or its sharpness makes it prominent like hers, even if it’s not exactly tilted up), her dark hair has the slightest hint of red in it, and her ears, oddly enough, are shaped in such a way that they have very little lobe (an odd thing to notice, perhaps, but Obi-Wan notices for the simple matter that, uncorrected, the distinctive shape of her ears would likely mark her out, in others’ eyes), but her fearless smile reminds Obi-Wan almost painfully of both Padmé and Sabé, and he has a feeling she will get along well with Sabé, too. Though their ease with the other two of their group indicate that they are all friends, neither Ché nor Maighé show any sign of being closely tied to either of those others, and Obi-Wan finds himself smiling to himself in satisfaction, sure that they will both do well in Sabé’s service.

Missé Kevarydd and Chloé Alaunos are standing close enough together that the backs of their hands are brushing together, and, in the Force, there is a sense almost of blending together around the edges of them, as if they were gradually growing into each other, and Obi-Wan can tell, at once, that the two are pair bonded and quietly but thoroughly in love with one another. There’s a sense of stability, compassion, warmth, strength, and caring about them that reminds Obi-Wan of the late Jedi Master Adi Gallia, and a sense of loyalty and devotion to duty that lets him know that, like others of the handmaids who have become lovers, they will not allow their love for each other to negatively impact their duty to their Lady, as their love for each other rests, in part, on a shared sense of love of duty that will eventually lead them to a sort of adoration of their chosen Lady. While they are also both potentially strong in the Force, he can tell that they are not as strong as either Ché or Maighé. However, Obi-Wan is certain that, working together, they could nevertheless accomplish great things, and he hopes they will agree to be trained, as it will only aid them in their duty and help to strengthen their bond. Their similar and sympathetic natures probably could’ve allowed them to work equally well with either Sabé or Dormé, but they physically more closely resemble Padmé and, thus, Sabé, meaning that it would probably be easier for them to blend in amongst the ranks of Sabé’s handmaids, despite Missé’s mostly green eyes, dimpled chin, and rounder, more heart-shaped face and Chloé’s less shapely mouth, the hint of dimples in her cheeks when she smiled, and the distinctive gap between her two upper front teeth that she would likely have to have corrected. Obi-Wan is, therefore, fairly certain that Missé and Chloé, like Ché and Maighé, will have an easier time of it and feel more comfortable working with Sabé rather than Dormé. Fortunately, the next two in line strike him as being more suited for Dormé, or else he might have been tempted to start second-guessing himself.

Cissé Hannieca has black rather than brown hair, obvious dimples in her cheeks, and a nose that will likely have to be tampered with to make it look more like Dormé’s, though it isn’t quite as prominent as (though it is wider like) a true Hannieca nose. Merlé Talsun (who is nearly as young as Ché, though her birthday is at the beginning rather than the end of Welona) has a heart-shaped face that is almost startlingly like Padmé’s, if a little rounder, and her eyes are more an amber colored hazel than brown, but she has a nose almost exactly like Dormé’s, her mouth is shaped rather Dormé’s, and there’s just something about her when she smiles that reminds Obi-Wan of Dormé. Like Missé and Chloé, they are standing close enough together to touch, and, in the Force, they look as if they’re gradually running together, like two streams joining to make a river, letting him know that they are pair bonded. They’re more than strong enough in the Force to justify training, and there’s a sense of mutability about them, an almost mercurial adaptability, wrapped around a powerful core of strength, that lends them a sense of gradual but steady and inexorable strength that reminds Obi-Wan, in a way, of water. The comparison makes him want to smile, as it seems very likely to him that the two will be able to cool Dormé’s temper, weather and wear away her fiery stubbornness, and, in general, sympathize and care enough to make it obvious that they are only doing what they think is best for their Lady, making it so that the Lady in question won’t be able to remain angry with them for very long. All in all, Obi-Wan is quite sure that Cissé and Merlé will do fine as Dormé’s handmaids.

Of the other four women, Obi-Wan can tell, just by passing his gaze over them, that the two in the center are close to becoming pair bonded and that the two on the outside edges share a friendship deep enough that they would both suffer if they were to be separated. Brighé Nunarnia has a lovely soft face (oval so long as she doesn’t draw attention to the strong line of her jaw by clenching it or lifting her chin up challengingly) with dark soulful eyes (mostly brown, though there are lightly scattered with small flecks of amber, green, and, surprisingly enough, even blue) and a slightly upturned, lightly freckled nose and mouth that are both shaped rather like Dormé’s. Aside from her more prominent, upturned nose, doe-eyed Marté Novaren has a face that reminds Obi-Wan more of a slightly sharper-featured Sabé than anyone or anything else. Like Brighé, though, Marté radiates a sort of immutable solid strength and determination that Obi-Wan is quite certain will be more than a match for Dormé, and he would prefer not to harm them by separating them, so to Dormé they will go. As for the other two, well, surprisingly enough, Lanné Jamdarien is blonde – a dark golden, almost amber blonde, to be fair, but definitely blonde, nonetheless – and appears to have one mostly blue eye (the left) and one eye (the right) that is a mix of blue and brown. Her face is very like Padmé’s, though – heart-shaped, with a strong jaw and sharp chin (though her chin is softened by a dimple that will have to be taken care of), lovely cheekbones, a straight nose, and eyebrows that naturally grow in oddly flat lines that only just arc a little over the outside edges of her eyes – and when she smiles at him Obi-Wan is startled at just how much she reminds him of both Padmé and Sabé. Joilé Kincaer’s face is also shaped rather like a heart and so like Padmé’s, though her cheekbones are more prominent, making her seem apple-cheeked when she smiles, her nose is a bit broader and less defined, and her eyes are such a mix of different flecks of color that most people would probably be tempted to simply call them hazel to avoid having to figure out which color dominated them the most. They share a mix of stability and warmth, strength and adaptability and passionate determination, that reminds him somewhat of Sabé, and Obi-Wan is quite sure that they will do well among Sabé’s handmaidens.

All ten women are easily strong enough in the Force to justify training, and Obi-Wan is telling them so as they rearrange themselves into two new groups of six and four when a sudden surge of raw panic and fear blasts out along the bond from Anakin into him, nearly driving him to his knees from the abrupt sense of impact, as if from an actual blow. Anakin, what – ?

Obi-Wan! She just – she fell over, just collapsed on the bench, and went into convulsions! I can’t get her to stop thrashing, I can’t reach her through the Force to calm her or send her to sleep, and I don’t know what else to do! What am I doing wrong? You have to get down here! I’m afraid she’s really going to hurt herself!

Anakin, you know where I am in the Palace. Just pick her up and carry her here!

I can’t! She’s thrashing around too wildly! If I tried to hold on to her tight enough to keep from dropping her, I’ll end up breaking bones!

Anakin –

You have to get down here! I can barely even keep a hold on her, and the convulsions are getting worse!

Doing his best to project calm into his partner, Obi-Wan commands, Wrap her in a flow of the Force, Anakin. Use it to bind her arms to her side and hold her rigid, so she can’t thrash.

Frantically, Anakin only wails back, I’ve already tried that! She keeps breaking them!

Breaking/ them? /How? Dormé doesn’t have the training to –

Obviously frustrated and frightened, Anakin snaps back,/ I know she doesn’t! But it’s not stopping her from throwing off or smashing through every single suggestion or binding I try to put on her! Obi-Wan, you’ve /got to get down here and help me!

But –

Do what you did down by the ship and come down here to me! Please!

Anakin, I don’t know how –

You don’t have to understand how it works! If Qui-Gon and Dooku can travel wherever they want to through the Force, there’s no reason why you can’t do it either! Just let go and do it and let the Force take care of the damned details!

Anakin –

Obi-Wan, I can’t reach her in the Force anymore/ – it’s like she’s not there anymore, like she’s dying or something! I don’t know what to do! Just – please, get down here! /Please!

The thought that what Obi-Wan had accidentally done, down by the (Nubian) Nabooian ship, might be the same thing as what Force spirits do when they travel through the Force isn’t something that’s occurred to him. To be quite honest, it likely hasn’t occurred to him because he’s been doing his damnedest to avoid thinking a whole lot about that inexplicable instance of somehow traveling without moving, since he’s more than a little unnerved about the thought that he’s manifested some kind of Force talent that (as far as he knows) has never even been heard of, before, in the Jedi Order. But if the talent is something like what Force spirits do . . . somehow that isn’t quite so discomfiting, even if there is still an unresolved issue surrounding the fact that his body is alive and has mass whereas Force spirits are little more than memory and energy and aren’t alive in a purely biological sense. Still . . . somehow he doesn’t think that realizing what the process basically is like is going to help him actually figure out how to use the Force to make his body move from where it is right now down to wherever it is that Anakin and Dormé are at in the gardens. You’re going to have to order me, then. I don’t think I can do this on my own unless I have no choice but to act on instinct, as it were.

I can do that! I –

Wait a moment, Anakin. I want to warn Lyxé and the others what’s going on, so they won’t panic.

Okay. Go ahead. Just hurry!

Opening his eyes to find that he’s still smiling at Sabé’s and Dormé’s newly sorted future handmaidens, Obi-Wan turns around to catch Lyxé’s eyes. “I have go. Something’s wrong with Lady Dormé and Anakin needs me.” He doesn’t wait to see what the reaction to his proclamation will be. I’ve told them.

Good! Obi-Wan, let go and get down here to me. Right now./ I need you. Release! Come to me./

Despite the fact that he’s expecting it, the sense of absolute command in Anakin’s mental voice is somehow still startling, and Obi-Wan finds himself acting on it automatically, obeying that command just as absolutely as it’s been given to him. He releases the whole of himself, the world whiting out around him as he lets go, plummeting effortlessly (down and up and in every direction at once and none at all) into the Force. And when he returns to himself (a heartbeat or an eternity later), once again feeling calm and quiet in a way that has nothing to do with silence, drained, in an odd and still mostly unfamiliar fashion, and yet somehow still quite serene, he’s stunned to find himself stumbling backwards, pushed by a sudden violent blow that turns out to be from one of Dormé’s wildly thrashing arms. He’s more surprised than actually hurt, though it’s undeniably jarring to find himself suddenly standing in the garden and it takes him a few heartbeats to gather himself together and recover from the unexpected shove. Afterwards, he sees what Anakin was talking about right away. Dormé is having what appears to be a seizure and her body is arcing and thrashing about with enough force to break bones. If Anakin weren’t doing his best to keep her physically restrained, she probably would have already bashed her own head in and even possibly broken her neck or part of her spine, just from the way the convulsions keep twisting snapping her limbs and throwing her whole body around. Obi-Wan can’t sense or reach Dormé’s mind in the Force, either, but he can feel a great deal of energy gathered around her, and that’s what lets him know what it is that’s happening.

Obi-Wan has never personally experienced or seen something like this happen before, so far as he knows, but he has read about it before, in his research (after events on Naboo and the death of his master) into some of the old Force powers that hadn’t been seen in the galaxy for a long while. Sometimes, when Jedi who aren’t strong enough or skillful enough to sustain such visions naturally try to force themselves to have far-sight visions or when a Jedi who doesn’t like the contents of the far-sight vision that Jedi is receiving tries to fight off the vision, it’s possible for Jedi to either overreach themselves to the point where they can’t quite seem to reintegrate with their bodies properly or else to try to throw the far-sight vision off so violently that they end up going part of the way with it, in which case a person’s soul or spirit can be caught halfway in and halfway out of the body, anchored to the vision and the body both and so being pulled in two different directions at once, in which case control over the body is lost as the Jedi fights to pull free of the vision. If such a Jedi doesn’t find a way to reconnect with and reestablish control over his or her body fairly quickly, exhaustion can set in, and the soul or spirit can and eventually will slip off into the Force, leaving the body behind, mindless and soulless, to wither away and die. It isn’t supposed to be possible for another Jedi to reach or be able to help guide the other’s spirit back into the body, but sometimes, if caught quickly enough or at a moment where the only thing stopping the reintegration of body and spirit is the body’s lack of control over itself, it is possible to force integration by shocking the body until the involuntary systems seize control to fight for the life of that body.

Looking around, Obi-Wan spies the fountain, and knows what he needs to do.

He’s used the Force to snatch Dormé up out of Anakin’s arms, submerge her completely in the fountain, and hold her there until he can sense the flare of her mind again before Anakin has even had time to finish registering his presence. Anakin is yelping a startled, “What are you /doing/?!” by the time he’s released his hold on Dormé and let her claw her way up to the surface.

“She needed the shock, to focus her body enough on one task to give her mind and soul enough time to slip back in before the body could start fighting again,” Obi-Wan explains, hurrying over to the fountain to help an extremely pale and wobbly Dormé gain her feet. “You had a vision of some sort and either overreached yourself trying to hold onto it or attempting to push it away. I am sorry about the water, but I couldn’t think of anything else short of trying to summon enough of the Force to give you a shock to the heart to stop it and then another to restart it again, and that might have been damaging to your heart, so I thought this way was better. Are you alright now?” he asks, carefully helping the sopping woman step out of the fountain.

“I – I – I think so, Master Kenobi,” she stammers in reply, staggering and falling heavily against his side (and dripping all over him, in the process) when she shakily tries to pull away enough to stand on her own, without the support of his arm to lean on. She looks half drowned, her elaborate (and deliberately modeled on a dark indigo and deep purple gown Padmé had worn before the Loyalist Committee, after the attempt on her life that would send her home to Naboo, right before start of the Clone Wars) and now thoroughly waterlogged gown of seafoam green and pale azure doing nothing to help dispel this effect.

Absentmindedly, he replies, “Obi-Wan, please. And please do be careful, Dormé, you must be drained, after that!”

Hesitantly, her face slowly turning a shade of red so violently scarlet that Obi-Wan finds himself wincing in sympathy, she ducks her head slightly (her drenched and therefore mostly nonexistent curls slapping wetly against her skin) and admits, “I do feel weak. And tired. I’m just . . . not entirely sure why. What happened? The last thing I remember is talking to Anakin . . . ”

Anakin, finally making it over to them, gently takes hold of her right arm, to help support her on that side, too, and tells her, “You jerked backwards, pitched sideways like you were going to fall off the bench, and then went into convulsions, right after I asked if you were going to take pity on me and tell me what was wrong or make me play a guessing game over it.” The look he gives her isn’t quite bemusement and isn’t quite one of lingering shock as he adds, “I couldn’t feel you through the Force at all, after that, and I honestly thought you were going to die, for a few moments. I made Obi-Wan do something that was probably dangerous to get down here right away that I probably shouldn’t have asked him to do, but I was worried about you, Dormé.”

Dormé turns to look at Obi-Wan quickly enough to stagger slightly, dizzy and slightly unbalanced by the motion. “Master Kenobi . . . ?”

“I’m fine, Dormé. Just take it easy for a bit, please. You were having a vision of some kind and I’d say you were either fighting it or else not quite ready for it. Even a Jedi would be exhausted, after something like that. Let us help you,” Obi-Wan insists, tightening his hold on her arm a fraction so she can’t try to pull away again and end up falling over and injuring herself. “Do you know what you saw?”

She blinks up at him, her expression a bit dazed. “What I – ?”

“In the vision. You were looking at me, and then . . . well, you weren’t with me anymore,” Anakin explains.

Turning her head (more gradually this time, to avoid unbalancing herself again) towards Anakin, Dormé frowns silently for several long moments before slowly, thoughtfully admitting, “I think . . . I’m not sure, but I think I may have seen you, Anakin. Not as you are now or as you will be but as you would have been. If Milady Padmé hadn’t been killed and her death hadn’t led you two to figuring out what Palpatine was, I mean. I remember your eyes . . . they changed until they were like the color General Grievous’ eyes were, or like Sidious’ were. You were crying – or at least shedding a few tears – and you still had that awful scar that Ventress woman gave you. I think . . . there may have been a building burning, somewhere behind you. I was so busy trying to back away that I wasn’t really looking all that closely at what I was seeing,” she explains, a slight flush rising at the base of her throat and spreading across her cheeks again.

Anakin’s eyes fall shut in pain, his body flinching in reflexively around its center as if in response to a blow. “That – that was probably the Temple,” he tells her, his voice more than a little shaky. “He would have sent me against my home, against the children. ‘Every single Jedi, including your /friend/, Obi-Wan Kenobi, has been revealed as an enemy of the Republic now . . . The Jedi are relentless. If they are not destroyed to the last being, there will be civil war without end. To sterilize the Jedi Temple will be your first task. Do what must be done . . . Do not hesitate. Show no mercy. Leave no living creature behind. Only then will you be strong enough with the Dark Side to save Padmé . . . After you have finished at the Temple, your second task will be the Separatist leadership, in their /secret bunker on Mustafar. When you have killed them all, the Sith will rule the galaxy once more, and we shall have peace. Forever.’/ That is what he would have said to me. I can hear him, in my memory. And the children . . . Force! I went as far down into myself as I could, to try to escape the horror of what I was doing, but I couldn’t block out the screams. I kept telling myself, ‘It’s for Padmé, it’s for the Republic, it’s for everything and everyone you’ve been fighting for ever since you left Tatooine, even Obi-Wan, because if you do this, you can kill him, and then you can start over again, make the Republic right again, with Obi-Wan to rebuild the Order and Padmé to rebuild the government, and it’ll all be alright!’ but I couldn’t block out the children’s screams.”

Taking a firm hold of a gaping and horrified looking Dormé, Obi-Wan swiftly steers her over to the bench and sits her down. Then, moving quickly, he turns back to Anakin, ignoring the reflexive flinch when he tries to back away and infolding him into a tight embrace. “That wasn’t you. It never happened. It won’t ever happen. Let it go, Anakin. Let it go,” he croons, cradling Anakin’s head down against his shoulder and stroking a hand rhythmically through his hair until, with a sudden, violent shudder, Anakin manages to move past the memory, his arms coming up across Obi-Wan’s back so that his hands can tangle themselves into the material of Obi-Wan’s tunics, holding on desperately, anchoring himself in Obi-Wan’s presence and warmth and love. I have you, love. I’m here with you. I’ll never leave you. Let go.

Voice muffled by Obi-Wan’s shoulder, Anakin shakily tries to protest. “The children – ”

“Anakin. It did not happen. It will not happen. The children are safe. The Temple is safe. And you are safe, here with me. You helped me defeat and destroy Sidious. Unless we allow the memory of him do so, he can’t hurt either you or the rest of the galaxy any longer. I have you. It’s alright,” Obi-Wan insists, cutting him off before he can finish his tearful protest. Don’t do this to yourself, love. You are not that man and you will never be that man. Love would have saved you, even then, and love will save you, now, should anything ever happen. You saw that as well as I and you know that as well as I that we have saved each other and will save each other, should anything ever happen. Do you think I would let someone like Sidious ever have you now?

. . . no, Master. It’s just . . . the children –

Anakin. The children are fine. The Temple is fine. The Order is being reborn and, as you yourself have said, the worst thing that’s liable to happen within the Temple grounds right now would be those Padawans who have been orphaned by the war and the children who should have been chosen as Padawans by now, if not for the war and recent events, getting it into their heads to start experimenting with their new freedoms and so ending up accidentally damaging a small portion of a wall or the furniture by channeling too much of the Force in their endeavors. And I rather think the Temple will survive even the most violently thrown furniture, don’t you?

The walls are strong. It would take a lot to pull them down. I know that. It’s just – Obi-Wan, I can hear it happening so clearly, when I think about it, and we’re so far away right now –

The Grand Masters are there, Anakin. I believe they would take it quite amiss, if anyone were so foolish as to attempt to threaten their charges. Whether you trust them completely or not, you must admit that they would do anything within their power to keep the children safe.

“He’s right, you know,” Dormé adds from her place on the bench, entirely unaware of their silent exchange along the bond, her voice so quiet and subdued that it takes both of them a moment to realize she’s spoken the words out loud. “Sidious can’t touch you anymore unless you let him. You’re safe here – safe with Obi-Wan. I saw that, too. You and Obi-Wan. Together. No one could ever come between you two. Even I could see that, Anakin. I rather think any fool could see that, after seeing you together.”

“But – ”

“Anakin. I have never lied to you. After you and Milady – after you did what you did, and you came to me, flushed with triumph over having managed to do it without the press or the High Council finding out, and asked me what I thought of it all, I told you that you were both making a mistake. Remember? I told you that you were like the little brother I’d never had, and I loved you dearly and would continue to do so, no matter what might happen to come of what the two of you had done, but that there were times when your foolishness strained even my ability to understand, much less forgive and forget, and that this was one of those times – the worst ever, yet. I told you that you had both made a grave error, that it was a mistake to do something so incredibly foolish and selfish, and that I hoped to the Force with all my might that it would not be a mistake that would end up getting you both killed. Do you remember that?” Dormé asks. “That was the only time I ever thought you might strike me, but instead it was the first time I’d ever see you cry. I felt awful, doing that to you, but I couldn’t lie to you. I can never lie to you. So you must know that I’m telling the truth to you now. You’re safe here, Anakin. And if Obi-Wan tells you that something has not and will never happen, then that is the truth.”

Anakin gives her an oddly calculating look before finally pointing out, “If I’m safe here, Dormé, then you must admit that you are, too. You’re among friends, here. So why don’t you tell us whatever it is that’s bothering you so much?”

Dormé is so taken aback by the rationality of the response that she actually recoils a little before she catches herself. With a tired little laugh, she shakes her head (water droplets flying out from her sopping hair in arcs that glitter like crystals in the sun), and admits, “Well, you have me, there. The thing is, Anakin, I do think I’m safe here, but I know it’s not going to last, and I’d just as soon not have to drag anyone else into danger with me. Do you know how many handmaidens and trainees Padmé lost, in the decade and a half that’s passed since her first election, as Queen?”

“Eighty – well, eighty-one, actually, if you count that time Sabé’s heart stopped and Obi-Wan had to, ah, persuade her body to remember how to live. Plus the thirty she leant Sabé while Sabé was Senator, if you want to count handmaidens who died while serving someone else. Oh, and the sixteen trainees she gave Jamillia, who were all killed in the last couple of attacks on Jamillia before Apailana was elected Queen. It could’ve been worse, though. The Separatists nearly blew up the entire city of Theed once, that I remember, on top of nearly gassing it, and the Neimoidians came close to blowing up the whole of Theed Palace two or three times, I think,” Anakin replied, his voice so matter of fact that even Obi-Wan is a little startled.

Anxiously, Obi-Wan tentatively tries to frame a question about Anakin’s approach to the problem. Anakin, are you quite sure –

The sense Anakin sends him is something like a cross between a dismissive shrug and a tired sigh. I’ll be fine. We’ll talk later, when we don’t have an audience, okay? Dormé needs to hear this, though. She’s trying to work herself up to refusing to have handmaidens, and that’s just not acceptable. She needs people to help keep her safe and sane, while she’s arguing with those dunderheads in the Senate.

Frowning ever so slightly, Obi-Wan delicately begins to suggest, Perhaps I should –

Anakin, though, cuts him short, rather emphatically insisting, No. Stay. She needs to get over her nervousness around you. This is one instance where I think maybe the Kenobi charm has backfired – she’s so discomfited and unbalanced around you that she has a hard time thinking straight, and she needs to learn how to get past all that, if she’s going to be working with us and the Senate.

Beginning to grow distressed, Obi-Wan protests, I don’t know why she should be so uneasy around me! I can’t recall ever singling her out, among Padmé’s handmaids.

With a sense half like a muffled snicker and half like a lovingly tolerant smile, Anakin replies, That’s alright, love. She just – she likes you, and it embarrasses her. Don’t worry. She’ll get over it, once she gets to know you a little bit better. Or if not over it, exactly, then at least she’ll learn how to cope with it a bit better.

Obi-Wan practically squawks with indignation at that implication. Anakin – !

Now, now! No reason to get upset! I know you didn’t do it on purpose! Anakin replies, the effect of his placating words rather ruined by the rich amusement pouring off of him.

But – !

We’ll talk about it later, if you really want to, okay? Right now, though, I really want to try to derail this whole handmaid phobia, okay?

Testily, Obi-Wan snaps, /Oh, very well! But we /will talk about this silly habit of yours of insisting that I charm everyone in sight!

Oh, don’t worry. I think I’ll enjoy talking about that/, love./

Before Obi-Wan can protest, Dormé asks, in a voice hollowed by shock, “Obi-Wan had to restart Sabé’s heart? When was this?”

“The Neimoidians hired a team of assassins who were foolish enough to attack her on the very steps of the Temple. There was a young Padawan by the name of Lumas Etima minding that particular entrance, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to stop one of them from firing a weapon that was apparently meant to stun Sabé, rather than kill her outright. The weapon had been damaged, though, during the fight, and it blew up, rather spectacularly. The backlash involved a rather nasty energy discharge, and it hit Sabé. The Padawan wasn’t skilled enough in the Force to be able to use it to shock her heart into restarting again, but it’s an ability that I’ve had to use a number of times, several of them before that particular day. I’m just glad I knew she was coming and was already on my way down to meet her, when it happened. I’m afraid the Padawan rather panicked – if I hadn’t heard the disturbance and hurried to respond, I’m not sure he would have recovered his wits in time to call a Healer for her. As it was, though, it was able to help her, and Sabé was fine, afterwards. Her heart only stopped for about forty-five seconds, so I’m not sure it’s fair to count her among the members of the lost – especially not when I seem to recall that the lives of a few of the other young ladies in question spent some time hanging in the balance, after earlier instances of violence. Aren’t Moteé Babesne and Ellé Senka the only ones of Padmé’s handmaidens who weren’t seriously injured, in the line of duty?” Obi-Wan asks, tilting his head questioningly to the side and calmly raising an eyebrow.

“I was only concussed the once. It wasn’t that bad an injury,” is Dormé’s immediate response, her eyebrows contracting to form a fierce scowl.

Anakin, who remembers the attack in question and its rather unpleasant aftermath quite vividly (given that it occurred in the immediate aftermath of his illicit wedding – or handfasting, or contracting, or whatever it really had been – to Padmé and cut their already brief honeymoon even shorter), gives her a half patently amused and half simply exasperated look. “You were in a coma for a day and a half, Dormé,” he points out.

Her scowl deepening, Dormé crosses her arms and raises her chin defiantly, insisting, “But I wasn’t seriously hurt. And I was fine, afterwards. I would have done it again, in a heartbeat, to keep that man from hurting anyone else.”

Rolling his eyes expressively, Anakin glances skywards and rather dryly (if mostly rhetorically) asks, “And the lady wonders why we think she needs handmaidens of her own?”

“I don’t wonder why you think I need them! I just don’t happen to particularly want them, is all!” Dormé rather snappishly retorts, regaining her feet (waterlogged slippers squelching slightly in the process and detracting somewhat from the fury of the gesture) apparently for the sole purpose of putting her hands on her hips.

“But you must admit, you can see why we rather think you need them, now, can’t you?” Anakin only asks, giving her the same kind of benignly tolerant smile that Obi-Wan used to give him, when he was a Padawan and feeling sulky about something.

Dormé’s only response is to draw herself up so that she can give the illusion of looking disdainfully down her nose at Anakin and to make a low noise in the back of her throat that sounds rather like dismissive hrumph.

“We just want you to be safe,” Obi-Wan gently opines.

“I know you do,” Dormé finally admits, sighing as the anger and resistence all quite suddenly draining out of her, her shoulders slumping until she looks the very picture of abject misery, with the water still dripping off of her. “I just – I don’t know if I could live with myself, if people were to start dying for me.”

“And I suppose you think Padmé had an easy time, dealing with how many people over the years died protecting her?” Anakin instantly rather acerbically demands.

Dormé sighs wearily, her shoulders drooping even further. “No, Anakin.”

His voice gentling, Anakin notes, “Then I’m not sure I see what the problem is, Dormé.”

When Dormé only sighs again, long-sufferingly, Obi-Wan quietly declares, “You know you aren’t going to refuse to have handmaidens of your own. You simply can’t afford to do that, no matter how much the idea of losing any of those handmaids might pain you. So why are you worrying your friends – those who have been as family to you – by suggesting that you’re going to try to do the very thing you can’t, Dormé? What do you hope to accomplish?”

“Aside from spreading the misery around, that is,” Anakin adds.

“I’m not trying to make everyone else miserable! I just – I don’t – I can’t – ”

“But you/ can/. You can and you must, because there’s no one else who can do it, and so you will,” Anakin implacably replies.

“I didn’t ask for this!” Dormé finally snaps, her temper flaring up again.

“No. You didn’t,” Obi-Wan gently agrees. “But Dormé, do you honestly believe that one who would ask for such a thing could ever actually be worthy of it?”

That takes the wind right out of her sails. “No. I suppose not, at that.”

“Then what, again, is it that you’re hoping to accomplish, here?” Anakin instantly asks.

“I – I’m not sure, anymore,” Dormé finally admits, with another small sigh, shoulders sagging low once more.

“Then perhaps,” Obi-Wan delicately suggests, “you should be taking this time to regroup and speak to your friends about what they expect to accomplish, in the days to come.”

“Maybe so,” she allows, after a small hesitation. Then, after another moment’s pause, she softly adds, “Probably so.”

“Well, come on, then. No sense standing around here in those wet things. We’ll get you up to your quarters,” Anakin offers, smiling broadly.

With a silent nod, Dormé accepts Anakin’s hand, leaning on him a little as she falls into step between the two Jedi (Obi-Wan on her left and Anakin on her right), not seeming to notice as they both surreptitiously call on the Force to remove some of the water from her soaking wet clothes and hair, so she won’t drip all the way up to her rooms.

Saché, Yané, and Captain Novaren meet them halfway up to the Palace, Yané clicking her tongue in worried exasperation as she sees Dormé’s still rather wet and bedraggled figure.

“I’m not sure I even want to know. In any case, you can tell me later. Come along, now,” Yané insists, immediately claiming Dormé from them and ushering her off, with Moiré’s help.

Saché lingers long enough to give them a curious, considering look. “Should I even ask how Master Kenobi managed to vanish from out of the room like that?” she finally asks, after a few moments of silence.

Anakin flushes guilty, casting Obi-Wan an apologetic sidelong glance. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. We don’t know yet how it is that you do what you do, or even what it is that you do, at least not for sure. It was foolish and selfish of me to ask that of you.

Nonsense. I’m quite all right, Anakin. Don’t worry so. This was a good a time as any – and a far better reason than most – to try to make one of those traveling jumps deliberately. It was surprisingly easy to do, causing no ill-effects that I noticed, and it allowed me to get down here practically instantaneously. That’s an ability that could come in extremely handy, later on, so we’re going to need to work at it until we know what our limits are.

Yes, but –

What was it you keep telling me about buts, Anakin?

Anakin choked on laughter at that, drawing a look of concerned and a raised eyebrow from Saché. “Sorry – don’t pay any attention to me. It’s just that it’s a new talent, and we didn’t know for sure if it’d work. I’m just happy it did,” he explains. “Dormé was having what looked like an epileptic fit, and I didn’t know what to do. Turns out, she was having a vision, and either fighting it or trying to hard to hold on to it. Either way, her spirit was half in and half out of her body, she couldn’t get all the way back in, and she was starting to slip away. She could’ve died, if not for Obi-Wan.”

Nodding slightly to back up Anakin’s claims, Obi-Wan adds, “Please, tell Yané that she should treat Dormé for exhaustion. I doubt anything else like this will happen very soon – she simply won’t have the strength for it – but when you arrive on Coruscant, you must be certain that one of the first things she does is apply to the Temple for training. I doubt if we’ll be able to spare one person to work with her consistently, but she should be able to join in on the group lessons that doubtlessly will be being organized by then.”

Nodding to show her understanding of the gravity of the situation, Saché promises, “I will. Don’t worry. Yané and I will take care of her. And speaking of Yané,” she adds, turning to look over her shoulder at the retreating backs of the other three women, “they’re going to outpace me soon, if I don’t get a move on. I’m sorry to run, but we’ll have to catch up later. Goodbye, for now!” she smiles. Then, turning on her heel, she hurries off after the others, only pausing long enough to toss a comment back over her shoulder. “Lyxé said she’d love to join you for an early breakfast tomorrow and to send word of a proper time, should it be convenient!”

Anakin groans softly. “The funeral starts tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It’s a state funeral, though, so it will be rather like Padmé’s was. There will mostly only be speeches and stories told about her life, the first few days, while the public gathers to mourn her. Those who truly knew her likely won’t be called up to speak for her until the fourth or fifth day. Sheltay could tell us, for certain. I’m sure she knows the exact order of events that have been planned,” Obi-Wan replies, placing a hand comfortingly on Anakin’s shoulder.

“We should do that. And ask her about when they’ve scheduled the formalities for Bail’s abdication and the recognition of Alaina and Raymus as the new Queen and Crown Prince, too. And check on Bail. And check in with the Grand Masters. And visit the twins, to see how they’re doing. All of that, if not necessarily in that order. And,” a loud grumble from his stomach gives him momentary pause, and he smiles sheepishly before adding, “get something to eat for dinner, too, at some point in there.”

“And talk?” Obi-Wan asks, resisting the urge to smile at Anakin’s rather vocal stomach.

Anakin manages somehow to nod and shrug at the same time without quite looking as if he were dissimulating. “After the rest. We can wait to contact the Grand Masters last and then turn in early and talk and stuff the rest of the evening.”

An eyebrow instantly goes up. “Does this ‘and stuff’ have anything to do with what we were doing earlier, by the ship?”

Anakin grins and then half ducks his head. “If you aren’t too angry with me – ”

“Anakin. I would never be angry with you for being afraid of something. Frustrated, perhaps, if it were an unreasonable fear, but never angry,” Obi-Wan interrupts, voice and gaze both serious as he turns to grip Anakin’s shoulders firmly, as though to ground him. “Besides, if this ability to use the Force to travel without moving is one of the gifts we were given, back when we first came together in the Force, then we were doubtlessly meant to discover it and how it works. If it’s possible to use this ability to travel over greater distances, it could be an invaluable tool, if for no other reason than that it should allow the Jedi Bendu to more easily keep in close contact with one another. Even if it’s only possible to use it to travel short distances, this ability could easily save countless lives. Most Jedi who are killed in battle do so because they’ve simply been overwhelmed by sheer numbers or else backed into a corner or otherwise trapped in some situation from which escape is not conventionally possible, if not both things at once. Being able to use the Force to travel away from such a trap could provide the Jedi Bendu with a sort of last-ditch emergency escape, like the escape pods on a ship. If Qui-Gon had been able to move out of that melting pit, or if I’d been able to bypass those energy shields by traveling past them, through the Force, things might have turned out very differently on Naboo, all those years ago.”

Anakin frowns slightly. A bit hesitantly, he points out, “You know, that might have turned out for the best, after all, all things considered.”

“But it would have been easier to protect you from the High Council, with Qui-Gon and Dooku on your side.”

Anakin’s eyebrows both go up at that, his expression radiating skepticism, but he refrains from arguing the point. “If you say so, love. Come on. We can ask the Grand Masters about it, when we talk to them, and work on it some more later, if you want to. But I’m so hungry right now I feel like I could eat a whole nerf. Let’s go get something to eat. If we’re lucky, Sheltay will be having dinner, and we can catch her and ask about funeral and the abdication and everything. If not, I’m sure somebody down there can help us track her down.”

Obi-Wan smiles and brushes Anakin’s cheek with the knuckles of his right hand. “That’s true enough – even if it is just a good excuse to eat first.”

Anakin’s answering smile is more than a little sly. “Just trying to make sure we both keep our strength up, love. Besides, aren’t you the one always telling me that a little forethought can save a lot of time? The cooks always seem to know what’s going on and where everyone is, in the Palace. Going there first will save time, in the long run, since we don’t know for sure where Shelty might be.”

“Oh, it’s time you wish to save, is it?” Obi-Wan’s smile widens to a thoroughly amused grin as Anakin tilts his head a bit down and to the side, to look up at him through his eyelashes. “Come along then! There’s no sense in standing about and talking about it when we could be getting on with it. The sooner we’re done asking our questions, the sooner we can move on to other things.”

Anakin laughs a little, slings an arm companionably around Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and leans in to drop a kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. “I thought you’d see it my way!” he grins, hugging Obi-Wan close, as they turn their steps towards the Palace.

Obi-Wan just smiles and hugs him back, shaking his head a little as they make their way up out of the gardens.

***

Luck is with them. Sheltay has just come down to the kitchens for her own evening meal, and she smiles and waves them over to join her as they come through the doorway. Her smile slips a little at their questions, but she tells then, patiently and methodically, about the plans for both the funeral and the abdication, which will not occur until the day after the funeral is over. Alderaanian funerals traditionally last nine days, with a tenth day afterwards for remembering the deceased that is generally consistent with what is known as a wake on most other worlds, but the Alderaanian public has already been mourning the loss of their Queen for a week, so Bail will go before the combined legislative (hereditary) High Court and (elected) High Council of Alderaan in six days to officially abdicate in favor of his sister Alaina. Neither this information nor the schedule for the coming week of public mourning is terribly surprising, though it does make both men remember Naboo with sorrow and genuine regret for the loss of Padmé Amidala. What is surprising is the knowledge that Bail is awake – that a call came for Sheltay perhaps five minutes after the two of them went down to meet the ship coming in from Naboo – and the he was still speaking with his sister and her husband, his second mother, and Mon Mothma about the plans that had been finalized just before word came about the approach of that ship from Naboo when Sheltay left them so that she could see to the newly arrived guests. They chitchat politely for a while, to give Bail enough time to take in the whole plan, but Sheltay is genuinely dismayed to hear about Dormé’s accident, in the gardens, and asks them, several times, if they’re quite sure that the former handmaiden is alright, until even Obi-Wan has to admit (when Anakin silently opines, over the bond, that Sheltay must be a lot closer to Dormé than he ever thought) that her concern for her friend is truly touching. Obi-Wan finally smiles at her warmly and suggests that the Lady might welcome a quiet visit from a good friend, and Sheltay returns his knowing look with a shrug and an easy smile as she excuses herself from the table.

Alone at the table, Obi-Wan reaches out tentatively along the bond they share with their Padawan, trying to unobtrusively check and see if he can get a feel for what Bail might be doing and whether or not Bail’s shields against the rest of the galaxy are still holding. The sense he gets is one of combined excitement and purpose, and Obi-Wan smiles, pleased with Bail’s favorable reaction to their plans. More importantly, though, Bail’s shields don’t just seem intact, but feel as if they’ve gained another flexible screening layer, and at that realization Obi-Wan slides back a little in his seat, unabashedly relieved over Bail’s mastery of this particular use of the Force. (He cares for Bail a great deal and would not willingly lie to him, but Obi-Wan is a private man, and the idea that Bail might have been so open to the Force that he could sense everything that Obi-Wan and Anakin experienced, when they were together, unsettles him deeply. So he is extremely glad that Bail’s shields are holding, as he’s not at all sure that it’s even possible, any longer, for he and Anakin to be together in such a way without impacting the Force at least a little in their immediate vicinity.) Anakin, equally relieved, laughs a little, and bends over to kiss him, lacing their fingers together companionably. Ambidextrous enough to eat and drink easily with either hand, Obi-Wan leaves their hands entwined, warmly squeezing Anakin’s hand.

/Shall we leave them to their discussion for a little longer, then? /Anakin asks.

Just a bit. The distraction seems good for him. You may as well enjoy your dessert.

It will be no hardship! Just look at all of this wonderful chocolate!

Obi-Wan laughs a little, thoroughly amused. Sometimes I wonder if you have a hollow leg, love.

Nah. I just appreciate the finer things in life, is all. Like chocolate. And you. Hmm . . . Anakin gives him a sidelong look from under his lashes, eyes narrowing in consideration.

Slightly unnerved by the thoughtful look, Obi-Wan hastily changes the subject, asking, Do you think many of the recalled Jedi will have beaten us home, by the time we are able to return to the Temple?

A little startled by the abruptness of the question, Anakin frowns and cocks his head to the side. Why? Aren’t the Grand Masters and some of the more trustworthy among the former members of the High Council supposed to be taking them aside as they return, one at a time, so that they can at least briefly explain what’s been going on?

Obi-Wan shrugs, a little sheepishly, and admits, I suppose I’m becoming a little anxious to return, myself. Between your nightmare that wasn’t just another dream, Bail’s mysterious visitor, and all of our plans, finished and ready to be put into action, I’m starting to feel the need for our fellows at the Temple.

Seven days. Maybe eight, depending on how long it’ll take for Bail to become Winter’s honor-father. But then we’ll be leaving. It’s really not that long. And besides, weren’t you the one telling me to trust in the Grand Masters? Anakin asks, raising an eyebrow and letting his lips quirk up into an expression that’s almost a smirk.

Obi-Wan rises to the implied challenge, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow of his own. Ah, but our plans hadn’t been finalized then, Anakin. And besides, it’s not a matter of trust, but of knowing where our strengths lie and capitalizing on them. There are certain aspects of this plan that you and I must see to, ourselves, and we need to be on Coruscant, to do so.

Our plans will still be just as good as they are now in another eight or nine days, love. You worry too much.

So you keep telling me.

Yeah, well, I’m still hoping to eventually make enough of an impression, by sheer dint of repetition, that it’ll sink all the way in.

Obi-Wan snorts softly and wryly notes, I wouldn’t count on repetition along for anything, if I were you, Anakin. How many times have I told you about the importance of keeping your lightsaber with you, and how many times have you still managed to lose or break one of yours?

You’re supposed to be older and wiser than I am, though, Master. Shouldn’t that count for something?

Aside from meaning I’ve had more time to become set in my ways?

You? The man they call Trickster on more worlds than I probably know about, considering how many planets you managed to visit before I ever even knew you? You, become set in your ways? Obi-Wan, the day you lose your ability to improvise enough to surprise me is the day I’ll grow a full beard and mustache!

Oh! Hush, you! Don’t make promises we’d both rather not see you keep!

What, you don’t think I’d look good in a beard and mustache? Anakin half laughs and half pouts back, his attempt at an annoyed scowl ruined by the amused twinkle in his eyes.

Obi-Wan, though, only raises an eyebrow and places his free hand to his chin, one finger upraised in an attitude of consideration, eyeing Anakin thoughtfully for several quite moments, before finally replying, I think I would be very disappointed if I could no longer trace the tendons in your neck because you’d hidden them under a coat of hair, beloved.

Anakin nearly chokes on his cake. Ah. Well. Now you know why I’ll hold you down and shave you myself, if I have to, to keep you from growing that blasted beard back.

Obi-Wan smiles and nods graciously, allowing Anakin the point since he knows he’s won that particular exchange. Indeed.

Anakin’s mouth makes a slight moue of protest, but he lets the matter lay, apparently not wanting to push his luck. Ten minutes and another slab of chocolate cake later, he finally asks, Long enough, do you think?

Mostly likely. Are you finished?

For now. Ready? Anakin asks back, swallowing the last bit of bribb juice in his glass.

Echoing Anakin’s gesture, Obi-Wan swallows the last of his tea, and then nods.

A server droid shows up as they push back their chairs to rise, waving them away from the remains on their meal, and they politely skirt around it to head back out of the kitchens and up to Bail’s quarters.

Bail is unabashedly glad to see them, waving them inside eagerly when they show up at his door. They talk for a good half hour before the others finally leave, Mon Mothma lingering near the door a little after the rest have already gone, surprising them with a sudden bout of shyness as she looks everywhere but at them before finally asking, voice pitched low in an attempt to avoid being overheard by Bail, “May I ask if my offering has been satisfactory?”

She hasn’t yet had enough experience with the preternaturally heightened sense of most Force adepts, though, and Bail, hearing her question, turns back from the desk drawer he’s been rummaging around in for another memory chip for his datapad, jerking around quickly to face his Masters, wanting to see how they reply. Obi-Wan’s smile is as abrupt and blinding as the sun, slipping unexpectedly out through a break in heavy cloud cover, and he sweeps her a low bow (Anakin somehow managing not only to mirror the sudden movement but to make it seem as graceful and spontaneous as Obi-Wan’s), declaring, “Dear Lady, you have so far outdone yourself that it is we who should be asking you if we are still satisfactory.”

“You – you mean – ?”

“If you will still have us,” Anakin firmly replies.

“Oh!” For an instant it looks as if Mon Mothma is going to hurl herself forward at them with her arms open wide, but then her gaze flits over to Bail, and she freezes in place. “If you wouldn’t mind – ?” she starts to ask.

Bail, though, cuts her off with a genuinely happy laugh. “Are you serious? You’ve been like a little sister to me for years, Mon! I would be honored to call on you as becc siur in truth!”

With a noise that’s half cry and half laugh, Mon Mothma throws herself forward, and then somehow they end up in a four-way embrace, the Chandrilan Senator smiling up at them so widely through her tears that Anakin finds himself liking her immensely, even though he hardly knows her. By the time they’ve managed to untangle themselves and Mon Mothma has managed to stop tearing up, Bail is starting to look tired, enough that Mon starts to make excuses and edge back towards the door. Bail looks disappointed, but only for a moment, as a huge yawn overtakes him mid-protest, prompting a sheepish expression and a meek agreement to get some rest, when they’ve all gone. Obi-Wan makes his repeat the promise, though, before he and Anakin finally leave, heading for the rooms that have been set aside for the twins. They don’t linger there long, though, because the babies are sleeping soundly, and they don’t want to accidentally wake them. The soon have reason to wish they’d remained there longer, though, because the Grand Masters wish to know absolutely everything that has been happening, on Alderaan, and they have doubts about the plans that they’ve arrived at, for Alderaan and Chandrila and as much of the rest of the known galaxy as they have the ability to reach, so they question them mercilessly for hours. By the time Obi-Wan (with help from an impassioned plea from Anakin, about the need to finally end slavery in the Republic) has finally managed to argue them around to their side, evening has long since given way to night, and the two are exhausted. Deciding that everything else can wait until later, they head for the bed, stripping as they go so that they can collapse in a tangle of limbs and slide down into the darkness and peaceful quiet of sleep together.

***