"Chancellor, please! I don't want any more guards!" Padmé Amidala flashed Chancellor Palpatine a look of desperation, and the gray-haired man's face was almost kind for a moment as he conceded,
"I realise all too well that additional security might be disruptive for you, but perhaps someone you are familiar with... an old friend like... Master Kenobi…" Palpatine turned his face to Mace Windu, and the Jedi nodded in response. Padmé frowned at the mention of the name. It had been ten years since she had seen Master Kenobi and his young student. She had wondered, once in a while, what had become of them. Now, it seemed, she might find out.
"That's possible," Mace Windu was saying to Chancellor Palpatine. "He has just returned from a border dispute on Ansion."
For some reason, Padmé was a bit disturbed by the thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi in combat. It had been many years, and she had only been a young girl, but she could still see the sandy-haired Jedi Knight with his shimmering lightsaber in her mind. He had been handsome and young then, in his mid-twenties. He would be older now, she realized. Would he still be handsome?
Padmé shoved those ludicrous thoughts from her mind and scolded herself. There were far more important things at stake now then whether or not Master Kenobi had stayed handsome over the last ten years. The security of the galaxy had no room for her girlish distractions.
"You must remember him, M'Lady," Palpatine was droning toward Padmé, and she jolted back to attention. "He watched over you during the blockade conflict."
Padmé felt her eyebrows fly up. How could she possibly forget Master Kenobi and the little boy who had tagged along at his side? Yes, of course I remember them, she wanted to exclaim. Instead, she swallowed hard and calmly insisted, "This is not necessary, Chancellor."
"Do it for me, M'Lady, please. I will rest easier. We had a big scare today. The thought of losing you is unbearable." There was something off in the way Chancellor Palpatine said those words, but Padmé ignored her unease for the time being and nodded at last. If the worst thing that came of this madness, of the attempt on her life that had killed an innocent decoy, was seeing a few old friends, then so be it.
Of all the foolish things Anakin Skywalker had said in the past ten years, Obi-Wan was convinced this was among the most foolish.
He was in love with a girl he hadn't seen in a decade. Anakin had said as much in the turbolift, when he'd been profusely sweating and shifting on his feet, when he'd insisted that he'd spent every day for the past ten years thinking of Padmé Amidala. If that was true, Obi-Wan reckoned, it was foolish, too. Jedi were not permitted attachments or marriages. In any case, the last time Anakin had seen Padmé, he had been a boy of nine years and she had been a queen. If Anakin had indeed spent the last ten years perseverating on the girl, it had only been because he'd had so little other fodder for his pubescent mind.
Obi-Wan could empathize. Really, he could. He well remembered the days under his own master when he'd been lonely at night and discouraged by the idea of lifetime of solitude. There had been a few beautiful women who had entered his mind and stayed there for a long while, women who had fueled dreams and worse. And in the past ten years, Anakin had gone from a squeaky-voiced boy to a stern-faced young man. It was only natural that he might remember the pretty, smart girl who had been there when he'd left home.
Anakin was taking it all a bit too far, though, and Obi-Wan felt compelled to remind his Padawan of that as they approached Padmé's apartments.
"We are here to protect the Senator, not to woo her, Anakin. You will remember that," Obi-Wan said firmly, watching as Anakin's lips tightened into his characteristic defiant expression.
"Yes, Master," Anakin said flatly, and Obi-Wan gave the boy a skeptical smirk. As the door at the end of the hallway slid open, the two of them were assaulted by the boundless enthusiasm of a certain Gungan they hadn't seen in years.
"Obi! Obi-Obi-Obi! Boy, is mesa smilen' to see'en yousa! And… your apprentice? Hmm..?" Jar Jar Binks gasped then and jumped with exaggerated motions as he processed what the years had done to the small boy from their last meeting. Beside Obi-Wan, Anakin gave a shrewd smile and prepared himself for the way Jar Jar Binks wrapped his enormous arms around him in a tight embrace and exclaimed, "Ani! Little, teensy, tiny Ani? Nooo! Yousa so biggen, yousa has becommen! Yiyiyi! "
Sensing Anakin's acute discomfort with the Gungan's over-the-top affection and enthusiasm, Obi-Wan reached out and put a gentle hand on Jar Jar's shoulder.
"Jar Jar, we're very happy to see you, too," he said reassuringly. "We've come to speak with Senator Amidala. Would you be so kind as to take us to her?"
Jar Jar clapped his hands to his duck-billed mouth as though he'd just remembered something important, and he rambled on in his strange wording as he dragged tiny Ani and Obi-Obi-Obi into the Senator's apartments.
Obi-Wan was not surprised to see the way Anakin reacted to the sight of Padmé. The boy's jaw dropped as though he was seeing food after weeks of starvation. His boots dragged a bit on the ground as he seemed confused as to whether he should run to the girl or stay frozen where he stood. Anakin's fists clenched at his sides and relaxed, and his eyes went wide and round as he stared with hunger at Senator Amidala.
It would have been very amusing, except that a tiny part of Obi-Wan could see where the appeal lay for his young apprentice. In the ten years since he'd last seen Padmé Amidala, she'd grown from a gangly and rather awkward teenager into a graceful young woman. She was slight and statuesque at the same time, where once she had possessed the body of a girl just edging on adulthood. Her features had sharpened, perhaps because of what she'd seen and done and perhaps from age. Probably it had been a bit of both. It didn't matter. She was much prettier now than Obi-Wan remembered her being, and it struck him in a way that was rather uncomfortable.
"Desa Jedi arriven!" Exclaimed Jar Jar, and somehow Obi-Wan gathered himself and straightened his spine as he stood before Senator Amidala.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, My Lady," he greeted her, hearing an odd and rather embarrassing crack in his own voice. If the Senator noticed, she did made no outward indication. She took Obi-Wan's hand in hers and smiled warmly, and Obi-Wan felt like recoiling from the unexpected sensation that all elicited.
The corners of his mouth pulled down, and he struggled to keep his face impassive as Padmé Amidala flicked her eyes beyond him for a moment toward Anakin. Her expression was pleasant, but showed no recognition for the Padawan. Her hands squeezed Obi-Wan's a bit more tightly, and her smile broadened as she said,
"Master Kenobi… How good it is to see you after all these years. I am so glad our paths have crossed again. But I feel guilty that you've come. It was not necessary, I assure you."
Obi-Wan shrugged casually. "I'm sure the Jedi Council have their reasons."
Padmé gave a reticent nod and released Obi-Wan's hands. She stepped to the side, and Obi-Wan watched her glistening brown eyes narrow at the boy behind him. She finally clapped her hands before her, recognition washing over her as she curled up her mouth and said incredulously,
"Ani? Oh, Ani! It is you! Goodness! You have grown into a proper man!"
Anakin cleared his throat rather roughly. "And… and you , Senator, have grown more beautiful than ever. Shorter, though. You've… grown shorter. For a Senator."
Obi-Wan scowled at his young Padawan. He could not blame Anakin for being mildly bewitched by Padmé's beauty, but the boy was making a right fool of himself now. Obi-Wan pinched his lips and put his hands on his hips as Padmé giggled and scolded him,
"Oh, Ani. You'll always be that silly little boy from Tatooine."
Anakin looked scandalized and humiliated by that, but Padmé was apparently oblivious to the effect her words had had.
Obi-Wan's judgmental scowl lightened a bit as he watched Anakin's cheeks go scarlet. He did not like to see the boy in such a state, no matter how much he might like to chastise his pupil just now and remind him of how Jedi were meant to behave.
"Rest assured, Senator Amidala, that our presence will be no trouble to you. We will be practically invisible." Obi-Wan said that last bit just as much for Anakin as he did for Padmé, to make it clear to everyone involved in this arrangement that there would be no flirtation. It needed to be very obvious indeed just what everyone's roles where and what the dynamic would be. Lives were at stake. There was no space for Anakin's childish posturing now.
Yes. Obi-Wan Kenobi had stayed handsome over the past ten years.
Actually, he'd grown far more handsome. How was that, Padmé found herself wondering? How was it that the Jedi Knight had grown into his mid-thirties and had settled into a state of being almost achingly good-looking? Had his red-gold hair always been so silky, pushed effortlessly back from his face as though he'd dragged his fingers through it without a care? No, she knew. It had been cropped close with a hideous little braid all those years ago. Had his eyes always been such a vivid blue? Probably, though they stood out better now. He had been clean-shaven when last Padmé had seen him, and she found she liked him better with a beard. He was more striking this way. And he'd certainly grown more muscular, and -
Stop it, Padmé. She scolded herself inside her mind, knowing it was downright irresponsible to be ogling her new bodyguard as though he were a slab of fresh meat. He was a Jedi Knight, not some suitor for the taking. But Padmé had little control over the way her heart and stomach fluttered at the sight of him, and she was wholly unable to concentrate on Captain Typho's words as he spoke to the Jedi.
"I'm very grateful that you're here, Master Kenobi. The situation is more serious than the Senator will admit."
"I do not need more security. I need answers." Padmé shook her head firmly. She raised her eyes to Obi-Wan Kenobi and believed the words she'd said. It was a terrible idea to have this man lingering about her, she thought. It would only spell more danger if she was distracted by him. She fixed her posture and tipped up her chin as she spoke directly to Obi-Wan. "I want to know who's trying to kill me. This is a matter that certainly concerns the Senate. There is something deeper here than -"
"With all respect, Senator, we have come to protect you, not to start an investigation," Obi-Wan Kenobi pronounced very carefully. From beside him, his young Padawan blurted out,
"We will find out who's trying to kill you, Padmé. I promise."
Padmé frowned deeply toward Anakin Skywalker, surprised by the way he'd contradicted his Master and used her given name. She was not one to stand to highly on ceremony except where necessary, but it was obvious the boy had breached all manner of decorum with his words. Obi-Wan Kenobi flashed a wide-eyed glare toward his student and nearly snarled at him,
"We will not exceed our mandate, my young Padawan learner."
Anakin's cheeks went red at once, and he dragged his thumb over his lower lip as he stared at his knees. His voice carried a bit of a tremor as he mumbled, "I only meant… as we go about protecting her, Master."
Padmé tried not to look too surprised at the raucous exchange. Were not Jedi meant to be controlled beings? Anakin Skywalker, it seemed, was a volatile creature. She was not altogether surprised to learn this. He had been a short-tempered boy years earlier; it might be expected he would become a short-tempered young man.
"We are not going through this exercise again, Anakin. You will obey my lead," Obi-Wan Kenobi said firmly, and Padmé suddenly had the idea that Anakin Skywalker was a fambaa being whipped into submission. Anakin wasn't taking the verbal beating easily, though. He raised his gaze to his master and said in a challenging tone,
"Why?"
"What?" Obi-Wan Kenobi's mouth dropped open, and Padmé was tempted to simply stand up and walk from the room. It was profoundly awkward, all of a sudden, to witness the dynamics of a surly apprentice and his master. She cleared her throat a bit, to remind the men that she was there, and she shifted where she sat. Obi-Wan flicked his vibrant blue eyes to her, a look halfway between embarrassment and apology on his face before he turned back to Anakin. Then his eyes flashed with anger again, for Anakin Skywalker was speaking as though he had great authority on the matter.
"Why else do you suppose we were assigned to protect her, if not to track down the killer? She has many bodyguards; simple protection of this sort no deed for Jedi. It's overkill, and so obviously it is implied in our mandate that we open an investigation into the assassination attempt."
Obi-Wan's face twitched strangely, and Padmé watched as his chest heaved a bit beneath his unadorned, beige tunic. "We will do precisely as the Council has commanded us… and you will learn your place, young one."
Padmé was now physically uncomfortable in the conflict. Her skin crawled a bit and she struggled not to curl her lip up into a grimace. Instead, she sighed lightly and said in a diplomatic tone,
"Perhaps with merely your presence about me, the mysteries of this situation will reveal themselves. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall retire." Padmé rose, and all present bowed respectfully as she began to walk from the apartments with her handmaiden Dormé in tow. She spared a final glance over her shoulder, not meaning to catch Obi-Wan Kenobi's blue eyes with hers as she did. He seemed a bit embarrassed when their gazes locked, and his lips moved as though he meant to speak. But he said nothing, and Padmé just turned and kept walking.
Once they were in Padmé's private quarters, Dormé lifted her heavy velvet overdress from her body, and Padmé changed herself into a white nightdress and a simple robe. She sat at her vanity and stared into the mirror as a cosmetic droid hovered around her. The droid pulled delicately at the cage-like device that bound her long hair, and Padmé dabbed at her makeup with a soaked sponge. Behind her, Dormé chewed her lip carefully, and Padmé said into the mirror,
"Say what it is you're thinking, my friend."
"M'Lady, I do not wish to overstep, but it seems that young boy has no self-control about him. I wonder whether he will actually keep you safe or make things more dangerous for you."
Padmé turned around to face her handmaiden, and the cosmetic droid rolled backward to make way. Padmé tried not to look too amused as she continued daubing makeup from her cheeks and scoffed,
"Ani? He was a child the last time I saw him, and he's little more than that now. But I've got every confidence in his master, so there is nothing to fear."
"Master Kenobi?" Dormé nodded, and the worried look on her face dissolved into a bit of girlish smile. "He is handsome, isn't he? I mean to say, they both are. But the younger one, Anakin Skywalker… it is as you say. He is little more than a boy. But Master Kenobi…"
She giggled then, and Padmé rolled her eyes and grinned. She turned back to her mirror, and the cosmetic droid finished pulling the hairpiece from her head and combing out her tangles. She flicked her eyes toward the security cam in the corner, glad that it transmitted only silent images to the monitoring station. She would have been humiliated to think of her normal security staff overhearing this conversation, much less the visiting Jedi.
"Careful, Dormé. The Jedi Knights are not permitted any relationships, and as my handmaiden, you have duties of your own. We must all keep our eyes in place, mustn't we?"
"Of course, M'Lady. Forgive me." Dormé bowed a bit and took a few steps back apologetically.
Padmé sighed and stared at her own reflection. She ought to follow her own advice, she thought. Who was she to lecture her handmaidens about ogling Jedi when it had been all she could do to speak properly in the meeting with Master Kenobi?
Yes. Obi-Wan Kenobi had stayed handsome over the past ten years. He'd gotten more handsome. And that fact, for Senator Padmé Amidala, presented a rather annoying obstacle.
"I think I'll sleep early tonight, Dormé," she heard herself mutter, feeling a bit as though she'd taken leave of her senses. Perhaps a good night's sleep might rid her of the odd, swirling images in her head - thoughts of red-gold hair, of shining blue eyes and a roguish smile.
"I'm going down to the lower levels to check on Captain Typho's security measures," Obi-Wan informed Anakin as they finished their evening meal. He pushed away his bowl of half-eaten fregeni meat stew, and he dabbed his napkin at his lips. He watched as Anakin scarfed down the rest of his own meal and swigged at his Corellian ale. As Obi-Wan rose from his chair, he added,
"I need to ensure that all public entries to this building are appropriately guarded. It won't do us any good to be carefully protecting the Senator herself if anyone can come striding up to her apartments."
"I certainly hope they've got a strong contingent of local protection for her," Anakin said firmly, and Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at the vitriol in the boy's tone. He was even more taken aback when Anakin said off-handedly, "I'll go up to her rooms and check on her myself while you go downstairs, then. Make sure that everything… you know, that she's still doing all right."
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. He leaned heavily on the back of the chair from which he'd just risen, studying the sharp angles of Anakin's face in the red glow of the sunset through the window. Obi-Wan stroked at his own beard and said carefully, "I must warn you, Anakin, not to allow your basest desires to consume you. There are more important things at stake, and you've taken an unyielding vow."
Anakin looked irritated as he tossed his napkin down onto the table. "Master, I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about."
Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side and scoffed. "You directly contradicted me in front of the Senator today in a showy - and failed - attempt to impress her. You stared at her like she was a lake that had spontaneously appeared on the surface of Tatooine."
"A poetic description, Master, but I do not think you are being fair with me," Anakin insisted. He rose from his own chair, and Obi-Wan felt a flush of anger come over him. He pushed it away, burying it with a deep sense of calm as he spoke in a measured tone.
"Anakin… my young Padawan student. You do not yet know how to control your emotions, how to stifle your attraction toward another human. It is only natural that you might find Padmé Amidala beautiful, and I can scarcely blame you. But you spoke obsessively of her in the turbolift before you even laid eyes on her again, and now you wish to go privately to her rooms. You and I know full well she will be dressed indecently just now, and that your motivations for visiting her at this hour have very little to do with a security check."
"Are you jealous, Master?" Anakin prodded in a surly tone, his eyes glowing in the sunset. Obi-Wan felt his mouth drop open with alarm, but Anakin continued, "You can always do the check tonight, and I can do it tomorrow. We can take turns."
"You go too far, Anakin. Much too far. You debase yourself, your master, and the Senator we have been sworn to protect." Obi-Wan hissed the words through clenched teeth, struggling to slow his heart rate and to make his breath even. He shut his eyes for a moment and assured himself, There is no passion; there is serenity. Eventually, he regained his composure, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw Anakin staring at him with his chin tipped up and a smug look in his eyes.
"Proceed to the lower levels and ensure that there are no vulnerable points of entry for the building. Take note of the manpower available to Captain Tycho for overnight patrols and guard posts. Report back to me outside Senator Amidala's apartments in two hours," Obi-Wan ordered, and Anakin gave him a curt bow as he pushed his chair back from the table and stepped away.
"Of course, Master," the boy murmured, striding red-faced from the room with his boots clacking on the floor.
Obi-Wan paced outside of Senator Amidala's private chambers for twenty-five minutes, contemplating whether or not to ring the door chime. There seemed to be no need to do so. He could see plainly on the surveillance cam footage that the Senator was sitting in her bed, propped up by pillows as she read a holobook. It would do no good to perplex the poor woman by standing there in her doorway when she was clearly enjoying some private time to herself.
And, anyway, if Obi-Wan spoke alone with Senator Amidala right now, he would be a hypocrite for having chided Anakin. If there was one thing Obi-Wan disliked, it was hypocrisy.
But as he stood in the corridor and stared at the view scanner from his belt, he felt an unwelcome and unexpected twinge. It started in his chest and worked its way out through his veins. She was prettier than he remembered, Obi-Wan thought. She was a grown woman with a brilliant mind of her own now, not some plucky little girl named queen of a backwater planet. Some nagging part of him wanted to ask her what she had spent the last ten years doing, to find more out about the woman she'd become. That was a ludicrous notion, of course. Obi-Wan Kenobi knew better than that. He knew where his duties lay. So he just paced outside her rooms, shutting his eyes every once in a while to mind his thoughts and ground himself in their mission.
"Master Kenobi?"
He'd been so lost in calming himself that he had hardly been paying attention to his actual surroundings. Obi-Wan cursed beneath his breath as he whirled around, a shock of horror going through him at the thought that he might have missed a threat by being mentally absent for a moment. Then he felt his mouth fall open, for Padmé Amidala was standing in the threshold to her own apartments and blinking at him as though he were glowing with light.
She was wearing a rather provocative white nightgown and a turquoise robe, and her brown curls were neatly tied over one shoulder. Obi-Wan averted his eyes from the sight of her, thinking it far too intimate a thing to see her like this. He sniffed lightly and said in a polite, formal tone,
"Senator Amidala. Is there something you need?"
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then she asked, "Where's Ani?"
Obi-Wan smirked and looked back to her, ignoring the impropriety long enough to shaking his head. "I beg of you, M'Lady, do not indulge his boyish flirtation. It is in violation of Jedi custom to -"
"Forgive me for being unclear. I only asked where he was because I wanted to speak with you privately, Master Kenobi," Padmé said in a confident voice. She took a few steps backward and gestured for Obi-Wan to come into her chambers. "I have a few questions about the assassination attempt, and I think you may help me answer them. Please… won't you come inside and talk with me?"
Obi-Wan tipped his head and considered what to do. Before anything else, Padmé Amidala was a politician, which marked her as wholly untrustworthy in Obi-Wan's head. She was also his charge, the one he was meant to protect from danger, so he ought not distract himself from that mission with frivolous conversation. And there was the issue of how she had become a beautiful woman over the past ten years.
That alone should have sent Obi-Wan scrambling, or at least it should have prompted him to politely decline Padmé's invitation into her rooms. But some unseen power dragged Obi-Wan's feet forward, and he stalked quietly through the doorway after her.
He only hoped his Padawan would take rather a long time investigating Captain Tycho's security points on the lower level. After their strained exchanges today, the last thing Obi-Wan needed was to show Anakin Skywalker that his Master was a hypocrite.
Padmé had never been self-conscious. Not of her body and not of her surroundings. She had been under constant surveillance from the time she'd been a child - probably from too tender an age - and that had erased any natural sense of bashfulness she may have once possessed. But now she sat at a long table opposite Master Kenobi, and she was suddenly very aware of just how thin the material of her glossy white nightgown was, of how she wore no undergarments beneath it. She swallowed hard and pulled her robe around herself, wondering whether it had been a mistake to open to the door to the hallway and ask him inside. But Master Kenobi was nothing if not honorable, it seemed. His luminous blue eyes were locked on Padmé's, and there was no hint of guile in his gaze. He folded his hands neatly atop the glimmering silver table and asked politely,
"What questions did you have for me, Senator Amidala?"
Padmé dragged her fingertips along her curls, which she'd twisted over one shoulder. In truth, questioning Obi-Wan Kenobi about the assassination attempt had been a shoddy excuse to speak with him. She had really just wanted his company. Now she struggled to come up with something to say.
"If… if those who arranged the plot are not quickly found, how can you and Ani… Anakin … possibly assure my safety on Coruscant?"
"I assure you, Senator, that my young pupil and I will be doing everything in our power to protect you, to anticipate danger and to ward off attacks before they happen. And should we find ourselves in the midst of conflict, I should hope our skills would be enough to adequately keep you from harm. But, of course, I can assure you of nothing. You are far too intelligent for such absolutes as that, M'Lady."
Obi-Wan looked rather tired then, which puzzled Padmé. He rubbed at his forehead, as though he had a headache, and she impulsively rose from her chair and walked to the cabinet in the corner.
"May I offer you something to drink, Master Kenobi?" Padmé said quickly, rifling through the cabinet and picking up a bottle of Oseon brandy. "So often, I… I forget my manners. My hospitality. I can summon a service droid if you're -"
"No need, Senator," Obi-Wan said gently from behind her, and Padmé whirled around with the bottle of brandy gripped tightly in her hands. Obi-Wan shook his head where he sat, and a polite smile curled on his lips. His hands stayed folded on the table, and he said in a light voice, "My Padawan and I had a perfectly suitable meal before he went to the lower levels."
"The lower levels?" Padmé repeated, feeling confused. "Ani went to the lower levels? Is something wrong?"
"Not at all, Senator. I sent him to ensure that all entrances and exits to the building are adequately secured. That's all." Obi-Wan's voice stayed airy, but his blue eyes seemed to tighten a bit. Or perhaps Padmé was imagining things. She glanced down at the bottle of brandy in her hands and studied the golden liquid inside as she said quietly,
"The stilted formality between all of us feels oddly unpleasant, Master Kenobi." She raised her eyes to him and tried not to sound like a silly little girl. "Do you remember, all those years ago, the way things felt so much easier?"
"Not really," Obi-Wan admitted, smirking crookedly and shaking his head. "Anakin Skywalker was a difficult boy then, and he's a difficult young man now. And the things happening about us were very tumultuous when last we met. It was never easy, Senator Amida-"
"Padmé. I beg you," she interrupted, fiddling with the delicate stopper of the brandy bottle in her fingers. When Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, she felt a hot flush of embarrassment and wondered if she'd pressed him too far. She leaned back a bit on the drink cabinet behind her and smiled shyly as she clarified, "With all the political nonsense swirling about, I should appreciate it if my protectors would at least call me by my name."
Obi-Wan stared at her for a long moment then, and his face was so unreadable that Padmé felt her ears go hot. She felt like a fool, standing there in her nightdress with a bottle of brandy in her hands. She felt like a wanton little child, pining after a grown man. She was a woman herself, she knew, and a powerful politician. She was far too dignified for a scene like this. She finally swallowed and turned around, tucking the brandy back in the cabinet as she collected herself and cinched the belt of her robe more tightly around her waist.
"Were there any other specific questions you needed answering, M'Lady?" she heard Obi-Wan say from behind her, and Padmé kept her voice gracious as she stayed facing the liquor cabinet.
"Oh. No, nothing in particular, Master Kenobi." She turned around and flashed the Jedi Knight a smile that may have been a bit too obviously guarded. Obi-Wan rose from his chair. He looked a bit concerned, furrowing his brows just enough for the experienced diplomat in Padmé to notice. He dragged his fingers through his red-gold hair and stepped away from the table, his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber at his hip as he walked toward the door.
"Both you and your handmaiden should have devices to contact both Anakin and myself directly if needed. We will not be far away at any time. Please, if you see or hear anything, do not hesitate. And try not to be anxious. Our only purpose in being here is to maintain your safety, Senator."
"Thank you, Obi-Wan." Padmé flinched and cursed internally as she realized she'd used his given name. After all, he'd exhibited a bit of prim hostility when she'd suggested he call her Padmé . But Obi-Wan turned to face her when they approached the doorway, and his face was warm and kind. They were closer now than they'd been since earlier in the open reception room, when they'd been surrounded by Jar Jar, Anakin, Dormé, and Captain Typho.
But there was no one else with them now, and Padmé found herself staring at Obi-Wan's blue eyes and marveling again at how handsome he was. Only, it wasn't just that he was handsome. It was also that he was brave, and in control of himself. It was that he was very able, and committed to his life's work. It was his kind demeanor, the warmth in his voice. Padmé shuddered a bit where she stood and shut her eyes, shouting at herself in her mind. Get a grip on yourself, Padmé! She felt like a complete nitwit just now. She needed to send him away before she completely disgraced herself as a legitimate politician.
"Thank you again, so very much, Master Kenobi," she said firmly, pushing a button on the wall panel. The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and Padmé gestured rather grandly through the opening as she flashed the Jedi another friendly expression. Obi-Wan put his hands on his hips and nodded as he strode through the doorway. It was only then that Padmé noticed the other figure out in the living room. She let a grin cross her lips, but she instinctively tucked her robe more tightly about her as she exclaimed, "Ani!"
"I thought I had told you to report back in two hours, Anakin," Obi-Wan said sternly to his student. "It can't have possibly been that long."
Anakin's face turned to his master, and he scowled as he insisted, "Captain Typho has many reinforcements surrounding the exits and entrances of the building, Master. I feel confident that lower levels are secure."
"Hmm." Obi-Wan did not sound so sure, and Padmé glanced between the two men with a bit of unease. She might have been amused to see the bit of rancor between them, the same she'd seen earlier, but her safety relied on the Jedi working together. Then she realized just what was causing so much animosity between master and pupil. Anakin was glaring at Obi-Wan, and then his face turned back to Padmé, and his expression shifted. She realized at once what was the matter with the boy. The smile on her face vanished.
She remembered little Ani on Tatooine, the sharp-tempered child who had referred to her as an angel and told her she was pretty. She was older than him, and she'd written off his affections then as the ramblings of a prepubescent boy who didn't know what to make of the sight of a girl. But Anakin Skywalker was a man now, and the rather feral hunger in his cocky gaze made Padmé acutely uncomfortable. The jealous expression he gave his master as he watched Obi-Wan walk from Padmé's chambers morphed into an ugly, crooked look of want as his face turned to her. She shifted on her feet as one of his sandy eyebrows rose, as his eyes bored into her, as he curled up half his mouth in a predatory smile. Padmé knew she was frowning at him, that she was probably being obvious and rude in in showing that she did not like the way Anakin ogled her. She didn't much care.
"Don't worry, Padmé. You can sleep soundly. The building is very safe," Anakin said, his voice oily and smooth. From beside him, Obi-Wan flashed him a chiding frown.
"Such complacency is dangerous, my young Padawan student," Obi-Wan reprimanded Anakin. "We will be on constant guard through the night. Threats may come from anywhere."
Padmé didn't know what to think now, so she just pinched her lips into a flat line and sighed. She was far too tired for all this posturing. "Goodnight, then, the both of you," she said. "Thank you again."
She turned and retreated back into her bedroom, pressing the button on the wall panel and leaving the two Jedi glowering at one another in the living room.
"Anakin, you must find a way to control yourself around Senator Amidala," Obi-Wan murmured an hour later, once he and his apprentice were seated in the sitting area. He glanced down at the view scanner he'd pulled from his belt, trying to ignore the odd twinge in his chest when he saw the security footage of Padmé Amidala sleeping peacefully in her bed. He set the view scanner down and raised his eyes to Anakin, who leaned his elbows on his knees and stared across the dimly-lit room.
"Master, I can not help myself around her. I… I desire her with all that I am, and I -"
"Anakin, such thoughts are anathema to the Jedi." Obi-Wan shook his head vehemently. "You know that full well. You must conquer these base and depraved fancies of yours. I will hear no more of it, and you will speak respectfully to the Senator in the future. Your interactions with her thus far have been grossly inappropriate. Too informal, you understand?"
Anakin's cheeks reddened visibly, even in the dim light. "Master, it was you who was alone with her in her dining room when I came back from my -"
"Again you overstep, my young Padawan learner." Obi-Wan shook his head and felt his own face flush. He shut his eyes and steadied himself, using his meditative abilities to wash himself in calm and patience. He opened his eyes to see Anakin square his jaw and clench his hands on his knees, and Obi-Wan said in a forgiving tone, "The Senator asked me to come into her dining room to speak privately with her. I obliged. It would be no business of yours regardless, my young learner, but that is what transpired."
"You do not find her beautiful, then?" Anakin sounded like a wounded animal, and Obi-Wan tipped his head to the side as he realized the boy was not only infatuated with Padmé, but suspicious of Obi-Wan himself. He tried to lie, to tell the boy no, of course he did not find Padmé Amidala beautiful. He found himself unable to say such a thing, so he just shook his head and said quietly,
"Conversations such as this will do you no good at all, Anakin. You are a Jedi, and you are not to concern yourself with lust or romance. You are on Coruscant to protect the Senator from attempts on her life. Can you fulfill this duty or not?"
"Yes, Master. Of course I can," Anakin said confidently. Of course he was confident, Obi-Wan thought. Anakin Skywalker was always confident. Obi-Wan pinched his lips into a line and sank into a light level of meditation to pass some of the time and to get a bit of rest.
"Master Kenobi, may I speak with you privately?" Padmé wound her fingers together before her body and watched as Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged glances. Obi-Wan gave his pupil a very meaningful glare that told the young man to stay here , and then the Jedi Knight walked with Padmé from the reception room where they'd meet meeting with Dormé and Jar Jar.
In the wake of the most recent attempt on her life, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker had been given assignments by the Jedi Council. Apparently, Obi-Wan had been assigned to track down the assassin - or assassins - who were determined to see Padmé dead. Meanwhile, Anakin had been assigned to escort Padmé back to Naboo. But when Padmé had been given this news, she had felt a pit in her stomach for more than one reason. Now, as she walked from the reception chamber with Obi-Wan in tow, she brushed her fingertips over her scarlet skirts and let out a shaky sigh. She waited until the doors hissed shut behind them, and then she turned to Obi-Wan and said firmly,
"I will not go alone to Naboo with Anakin Skywalker."
Obi-Wan blinked slowly and sounded rather irritated as he said, "Funny you should say that, Senator. The boy expressed doubt in the Jedi Council meeting that you would willingly leave Coruscant without voting. He knows your commitment to political justice, it would seem."
"I don't think you understand, Master Kenobi. Please, do not misinterpret. I do not mean to be ungrateful. The last attempt on my life was nothing short of terrifying, and I am eternally beholden to you and Anakin for the bravery you both exhibited in stopping the assassin."
Obi-Wan frowned. "Then why will you not go to Naboo?"
"I will go. Just… not with Anakin," Padmé said firmly, and Obi-Wan's brows furrowed more deeply. He raised his fingers to his beard and stroked a bit, and Padmé tipped up her chin as she tried to steady her voice.
"He makes me uncomfortable, Master Kenobi," she explained. "I am aware that he… it is very obvious that he desires me."
A look of realization came over Obi-Wan's face. He looked regretful for a moment, and then almost as if he were in mild physical pain. He licked his bottom lip and turned his eyes away from Padmé.
"I assure you that the boy means you no harm. He would never hurt you, Senator Amidala. He may ogle and gape, but that would be the limit of it, I promise. And I will tell him again not to do even that much. I do apologize if he has caused you any discomfort."
"I will go to Naboo if it is you who escorts me, Master Kenobi. If the Jedi Council wishes for an investigation to be carried out about the assassin, let Anakin Skywalker do it. After all, it was him who wanted to badly to investigate when he first arrived on Coruscant. Tell him if he wishes to impress me, he may get to the bottom of this mystery. As for you, you may take me to Naboo."
"With all respect, Senator Amidala, I do not give my own assignments to the Jedi Council, and neither do you." Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest, and Padmé felt a rush of determination go through her veins.
"These are the terms under which I will leave this planet," she said. Obi-Wan raised his red-gold eyebrows and looked almost amused.
"I will take your negotiation to Master Windu and Master Yoda," he acceded, "and see what they say. I can promise no more than that. As for Anakin, I can promise you his disappointment. I know he was very much looking forward to escorting you to Naboo."
"I know he was," Padmé nodded. "And that is why I do not wish to go with him. I know you can understand this, Master Kenobi."
"I can." Obi-Wan nodded. He turned to go, and Padmé stared down at her skirts. Her fingers still hovered on the red material, and it was only then that she realized how badly her hands were shaking.
Anakin Skywalker made a hobby of flying, usually aboard the fastest and most dangerous starships he could find. Obi-Wan Kenobi, on the other hand, was almost always a passenger, usually a frowning one. He only tolerated the activity of flying because it was necessary to traverse the galaxy. It was never particularly enjoyable. It was particularly un enjoyable when it occurred aboard a steerage freighter.
The Jedi Council had agreed, after great deliberation, to send Obi-Wan to Naboo with Padm é Amidala and to allow Anakin to track down the assassins. It had been decided that Master Mace Windu would assist Anakin in his quest, since so many on the council doubted the boy's abilities on his own. Obi-Wan and Padm é Amidala were to travel as unobtrusively as possible, and to make no waves once they arrived on Naboo. Obi-Wan could escort her back to Coruscant once he received word from Master Windu that it was safe again, they'd been told.
Master Yoda and Obi-Wan had met privately about the matter. 'A true test for young Skywalker, this task will be,' Master Yoda had said. 'Lifted, perhaps, doubts will be. Confirmed, perhaps, hopes will be. Safe with you, Senator Amidala will be. In that, at least, the utmost confidence I have.'
So now Obi-Wan was riding on an old AA-9 Coruscant freighter, a smelly and banged-up clunker well past its retirement date. He and Senator Amidala were ostensibly disguised as refugees leaving Coruscant, though her idea of a 'refugee disguise' was significantly more luxurious than what Obi-Wan might have suggested. Padmé's maroon-and-gold gown and lace headpiece, though perhaps more understated than most of her wardrobe, still stood out among the battered and bruised inhabitants of the freighter. Obi-Wan's simple burlap poncho at least concealed the lightsaber hilted at his waist, but his eyes scanned the ship frequently to ensure nobody suspected them.
As they joined the interminable food line, Padmé turned over her shoulder to face Obi-Wan and murmured quietly,
"Do you suppose our luggage will be all right over there in the corner?"
"I can see it, M'Lady. If anyone makes a move for it, I will not hesitate to abandon the promise of gruel. Your gowns are quite safe, I assure you." He smirked down at her, perhaps a bit too cheekily, and Padmé stifled a little laugh as she took a step forward in line. Finally they reached the servers, and Padmé made a little sound of distaste as she was handed a bowl of gray slop and a wad of stale-looking bread.
"Thank you," she muttered, though she did not sound particularly thankful, and she ambled off with the food in her hands. Obi-Wan took his own portion and said nothing at all, keeping his eyes ahead as he followed Padmé back toward their luggage. He watched as Padmé set her bowl of mush on the floor and balanced her bread carefully on the rim before delicately arranging herself on the ground. She leaned against one of the suitcases and folded her legs rather modestly beneath her skirts. Obi-Wan felt a strange pang of something as he watched Padmé settle. What was it, he wondered? Admiration for her tenacity in the face of all the danger? Perhaps. Yes. That was probably it.
He gulped and sat down, maintaining what he felt was an appropriate distance between them. He used his bread to scoop the gray mush into his mouth, and he drank deeply from the metal canteen of water he had at his side. Once he and Padmé had passed off their empty dishes to a cleaning droid, Obi-Wan brushed his fingers together and said lightly,
"You should rest, M'Lady. We entered hyperspace not too long ago, and this is the solid block of time you'll have to sleep before we arrive on Naboo."
"And what of you, my brave protector?" She was teasing him a bit, Obi-Wan could tell, but she was being serious, too. He quirked up half his mouth and said reassuringly,
"I have need of far less rest than most people. If I tire too much, I shall take little breaks with meditation. But I intend to stay awake, for the most part. It wouldn't do for me to be sleeping and leave you unattended, Sena… M'Lady."
He felt his cheeks go hot as he corrected himself and cleared his throat. What wouldn't do, Obi-Wan realized with an acidic bite of self-correction, was to have someone overhear him call her ' Senator .' Good grief.
She was giving him a look somewhere between pity and reprimand now, and then she surprised him quite a bit by shifting onto her knees and edging closer to him. Obi-Wan leaned back a few inches, away from her, alarmed by the way that Padmé was approaching him. He felt his heart begin to race as she settled back into a sitting position, having cut the distance between them in half, and he struggled to calm himself. What was she doing?
"Master Kenobi," she whispered, and he realized she'd moved closer to minimize the risk of being overheard. "You have not rested properly in countless hours. Please… I know that if some danger were to befall us, you would quickly wake. You are tired. I can see it in your face."
He stared at her then, and realized that her brown eyes were studying his carefully. Obi-Wan felt his mouth drop open, alarmed at the way the pretty young politician was nodding at him. He licked his lips and shook his head, insisting,
"M'Lady, it is far more important that you -"
"Obi-Wan, sleep, will you? I feel very guilty that you were ever sent to protect me. I am meant to serve people, not to be a burden. To see a Jedi Knight sitting on a dirty freighter on my behalf… Please, grant me one favor to help ease the terrible shame that overwhelms me now. Just rest, and I promise I will not move an inch."
Obi-Wan wanted to argue more with her, to insist again that he could stay awake or meditate while she slept. But his eyelids were heavy and had been for quite some time. A yawn yanked at his throat, and his muscles burned with fatigue. The warm kindness in Padmé's face, and the way she nodded with an almost maternal reassurance, finally convinced him. Obi-Wan sighed deeply and leaned back against the grimy wall of the freighter. He tipped his head back against the cool metal and shut his eyes, lacing his hand beneath his tunic and curling his fingers around the hilt of his lightsaber.
Before he could think much else, he was lost to sleep. It had been longer, perhaps, than he'd realized since he'd rested properly. It felt good to be gone from the waking world. It felt like everything and nothing at once, and time was immaterial as Obi-Wan's body and mind regenerated themselves. His sleep was peaceful and dreamless, in spite of the smelly, dingy chaos surrounding them aboard the freighter.
After a great long while, Obi-Wan blinked his eyes open. The first thing he noticed was the flickering overhead light - a very old diode that desperately needed changing. The second thing he noticed was that his hand was still wrapped protectively around his lightsaber. And the third thing he noticed was the way Padmé Amidala had leaned her head onto his shoulder and was sound asleep.