A/N: Hello there readers! So, I have a really important thing to say to everyone to stumble across this. It is a sequel! So, if you haven't read Destined for more first, I really really advise you to do it, for your own good. ;) Have a nice reading!

1. Danger

"Irri! Where are you hiding, child?"

Irri's eyes opened and a smirk formed onto her lips.

It had been ten years. She was nineteen, and her master still called her "child".

"I'm here, Master." She stood from her spot, and noticed a blue-skinned Twi'lek in the corner of her eye.

"What do you think you're doing, meditating on a thin platform like that? You could very well fall!"

Irri stepped down through the opened window she had been sneaking through.

She was now her master's height, and her body betrayed the forms of a beautiful woman. Her blonde hair was still put back in a braid, her padawan plait still bouncing on her shoulder, and yet, Irri felt very far from her young days.

A smile formed onto Aayla's lips. "Anyway, I've found you now. You have a call."

Irri's smile widened. "Eirtaé?"

Her master nodded, and Irri passed her, hurrying towards the call-room in the Jedi Tower.

Failing to hear her master's sigh.

!-!-!-!-!

Eirtaé, Padmé Amidala's handmaiden, and Irri, had never really stopped sending each other letters, wherever they were.

Irri considered her the sister she never had, while now Master Obi-Wan Kenobi still served as an older brother.

Eirtaé had not long prior told Irri in her last letter that she would perhaps come back to Coruscant after a long journey to Naboo and Alderaan, the Senator's new ally.

Her call could only mean that.

!-!-!-!-!

When Irri pushed the answer button, her friend's figure appeared before her in the familiar haze of an hologram.

"Irri!"

The padawan grinned widely. "Hello Eirtaé."

Her friend was blonder than ever, it seemed. She had gained some wrinkles under her eyes, which made her look even more beautiful, in Irri's opinion, and was wearing a blood-red cloak.

"Where are you?"

It had been customary now for Irri to ask that question.

Eirtaé, before her, smiled down at her young friend. "We have stopped onto Eriadu for a minor reparation on the shuttle. I cannot yet tell you how I'll come onto Coruscant, but be certain I will come and visit as soon as I have landed and my mistress doesn't need my presence anymore."

Irri's smile didn't falter. "You're coming back today?"

The handmaiden nodded and chuckled. "Surprise!"

"When? Where?"

Eirtaé tutted. "For someone so keen on passing her Trials, you seem awfully curious and impatient."

Irri cringed. "You sound like my master."

"And she is right. I cannot yet tell you, it is kind of secret. But be assured you'll know." Her gaze left Irri's and she looked over her shoulder, nodding to someone her friend couldn't see. "I have to leave you. See you later, little blossom."

The hologram faded.

Irri smiled to herself.

"Little blossom." Eirtaé had never stopped calling her that.

!-!-!-!-!

Later that day, Irri found herself sparring against Shaak-Ti.

Ever since Anakin Skywalker had left on his last mission, she had sworn to herself to master Makashi form before he came back – just for the satisfaction of kicking his butt.

And just the thought of her now very handsome friend sent her inside fluttering – and mind flowing some places it shouldn't flow.

"Focus, Padawan Nabié! You seem awfully distracted today!"

Irri's mind snapped back into place, and she bowed her head. "Sorry, Master Ti. It won't happen again." The end of her sentence was almost hissed as she flung herself as the master, her practise light-sabre – now somehow seeming too short in her hand – twirling in the air as she Force-jumped above her opponent and landed in her back.

Her attack was deflected, and the next, but as her moves started to gain speed and precision, she could see the master posing rather in defence more than in offence.

And finally, after ten years of practise, after many wounds both physical and mental – finally, Irri Nabié managed to corner Master Shaak-Ti.

Who clicked her light-sabre off and bowed to Irri. "Congratulations, Padawan Nabié. I think you will soon be ready to pass your Trials."

Irri beamed at her. "Thank you, Master."

The Jedi left the room, and the padawan couldn't help but start a victory dance.

!-!-!-!-!

"Something to celebrate?"

Irri's head snapped at the sound of his voice, and she whirled around.

The door shutting down behind him stood her best friend, Anakin.

His blue eyes sparked with joy.

He had come back.

Irri giggled as she jumped into his arms, locking her arms around his neck as he made her twirl, his own chuckle echoing in her ears.

"I've missed you, silly."

Anakin put her down and looked down at her very seriously. "I hope you haven't been in trouble while I was away."

She was about to answer, but the door slid open again, and her smile widened.

Untangling herself from Anakin, she ended in another's arms. Obi-Wan's.

He was now ginger – she didn't know how that happened – and bore a beard she knew could make heads turn anytime. His blue eyes seemed highlighted by his beige Jedi tunic.

But otherwise, he hadn't changed. He was still infuriating, and serious – too much at times – and Irri still loved him.

"Irri... I thought we'd find you burnt to the stake when we came back."

She nudged him in the ribs – or tried to as he dodged the familiar move. "Shut it, Master Kenobi." Then she assessed him, looking him up and down. "You've been wounded, you're limping."

He rolled his eyes. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, say that again." Anakin muttered. "I saved your ass."

"And you'll be polite, young man." Obi-Wan's eyes hadn't left Irri's. "How fare you?"

She grinned. "I just beat Master Ti."

Anakin made a doubtful noise while Obi-Wan grinned back. "Congrats then. When are you taking the Trials?"

Her smiled faltered. "Soon, I hope. But I fear not that soon."

His own gaze lost some sparks. "Yes. The Separatists are giving everyone here goosebumps." Then his hands got down Irri's arms and his left hand locked in hers. "Come, I have something to show you."

Irri looked like a five-year-old when she realised what that meant. "A present? For me?"

Anakin growled as he followed, but ignored that his own present – Irri's leather necklace – was still safely tucked under her clothes.

!-!-!-!-!

It appeared Obi-Wan's present for Irri was his old land-speeder.

It had been repainted red – Obi-Wan's favourite colour – and she was certain the engine had been replaced as well.

Irri's eyes locked onto Obi-Wan with a pinch of disbelief. "Why are you giving me your speeder?"

He smiled devilishly. "Because I missed your birthday." She snorted. He never gave her anything for her birthdays, usually. "Alright. Anakin doesn't want it, he says it's too old for his skills." With a roll of eyes, he showed her what he thought about that. "And I asked your master if it was a good idea. She saw no problem."

Irri met Anakin's eyes behind his master. He seemed bored beyond imagining.

Her smile didn't falter though. She pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss Obi-Wan on the cheek. "Thank you."

He smiled back. "I thought you'd like it." Then his face changed altogether. "What is it, Anakin?"

Irri turned to see her friend, and froze.

Anakin was clutching his temples, and a look of horror was painted onto his features. "Something happened. To the Naboo shuttle."

Irri gasped as well, a hand shooting to her mouth. "Eirtaé."

Obi-Wan's hand made contact with her shoulder. "I'm sure she's safe, Irri, we'd feel it otherwise. Come, we'll go and enquire. Anakin."

They started walking towards the Temple, but the young Skywalker stayed back a a split moment.

Irri knew what he was thinking.

She reached him in mind in less than a second.

"Don't even think about it. She's fine. Come."

And he listened. Surprisingly as it seems.