Part Three

Despite the deplorable amount of time it took to shake that dream, Dooku was back to himself and his regular routine. Or rather, back to his new "regular" routine, which included maneuvering around his grand-Padawans.

For the moment, little Skywalker was out with Benaag to see a tailor. The clothes they had brought with them were hardly suitable for Zeltrax and it was unlikely the Jedi Council would interrupt his undercover mission and risk exposure to pick them up. Instead, Kenobi and Skywalker would be reassigned to him until such time that Dooku could find an excuse to send them back to the Temple or he was outed, or some other catastrophe.

Thankfully, with Skywalker out of the house, it provided some peace and quiet to get things done. Droids were no longer going berserk due to tampering, which was a definite boon.

At the moment, however, Dooku stood at the railing, looking down over the grand staircase of his manor. At the base of the dark-wooded steps was Kenobi and Dayu, the maid-turned-medic. Dayu's attention to detail and knowledge of bacta had already been instrumental in ensuring that Kenobi now had one of his arms back and the young Jedi was already doing exercises every day to build back up his muscle strength. Dooku approved of the dedication.

Sitting at the base, Dayu was trying to get Kenobi to leave her be, claiming the work she had to do with repairing the carpet runner of the stairs.

"I'm afraid I fail to see any problems. This runner, like everything else in the manor, is immaculate."

Dayu gave a warm smile, before tutting. "Young master, you need to look closer. The ends are starting to fray and stitches have been caught and pulled when young Master Anakin comes running down these stairs. Milord Dooku will need to hold some sort of function to introduce the two of you and everything needs to be perfect."

Kenobi frowned. "Introduce us? We've only just arrived and are hardly of any importance in any business our grandfather conducts."

Dooku raised his eyes towards the chandelier and begged the Force for some level of patience with either of his grand-Padawans. Skywalker might be a holy terror, but Kenobi's apparent lack of self-worth was just irritating.

The maid seemed to agree, leveling a disbelieving glare. "You're his family. Of course you're important! You're his heirs! You'll need to build connections as you start learning the family affairs and the best way is through more casual settings like a welcoming party or attending some gala."

Kenobi paled, but showed no other signs of reaction. "Ma'am, I fear that my little brother may not be... of the best temperament for such gatherings."

That would be putting it mildly; Dooku smirked.

"Is any youngling at that age?" Dayu countered. "Now really, young Master, you should be resting. That other arm won't heal itself."

The boy looked down with a grin. "My apologies, ma'am, but for all that I have been pouring over the material that Grandfather has given us, I do need a break from time to time."

Dayu gave a short laugh, "Oh, you're a sly one, young Master. And pestering me alleviates your boredom?"

Kenobi looked affronted. "Pestering? Ma'am, I merely offered to help you."

Dooku decided it would be best to intervene before Dayu's own temperamental nature ended in a polite scathing. He released his Force presence that he had hid in order to observe, and Kenobi automatically looked up.

"Ah, Grandfather, perhaps you could explain to our noble maid that I only seek to contribute to the vast amount of upkeep that I, and particularly my brother, need."

Dooku gave a wry smile, thinking of the "upkeep" that was needed after Skywalker rampaged through a room.

"While my staff and I appreciate your earnestness," Dooku replied, "I believe I need you elsewhere at the moment."

"Oh?" Kenobi stood and gave a small bow to their maid.

"Yes. I have a barber I hold in high esteem who should be here shortly."

"... Barber?"

Dayu gave a short laugh. "Well, young Master, your hair is too long."

"My hair?" And despite Kenobi's best attempts there was a brief misting in his eyes that Dooku caught and frowned at.

"I'm certain you've noticed that neither I, nor my staff, wear our hair so long."

Kenobi nodded. "My apologies, Grandfather, it's just..." There was a small swirl in the Force as an old pain was released. Dooku raised a dark brow and wondered.

"Come, Obi-Wan," Dooku said instead, putting a hand on Kenobi's shoulder. "We shall set you up in the bathroom."

The boy nodded and walked beside him.

Quietly, Dooku asked, "Is there a reason you're attached to hair of all things?"

Kenobi shook his head. "No, not really. I've just been working on growing it for the past three years."

Three years. Since Qui-Gon had died.

"Oh?"

"Yes," Kenobi nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "My Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, wore his hair at this length. It's not much, but I wanted to wear my hair like he did as a way to remember him."

The misted eyes suddenly made sense and Dooku's own eyes misted as he realized the emotion behind it. Indeed, that morning, since Kenobi had finally had control over one of his hands, had tied it half back in a perfect imitation of Dooku's old Padawan.

"I see."

"I can't mention that given that my 'father' just died," Kenobi continued, running his good hand through the reddish locks. "At this point, it's probably just the Will of the Force that I can't seem to get my hair long enough. If it's not cover for an assignment, it's Anakin's training saber burning through it."

Against his will, Dooku let out a bark of laughter.

"Might I at least keep the beard?" Kenobi asked, a small smile on his own lips.

Dooku ran a hand over his own facial hair. "I think that can be arranged. Though you'll need to shave part of it to appear more dignified."

"Of course. I suppose a goatee is more fashionable on this planet than a full and neatly-kept beard."

"Indeed."

In the bathroom, there was a chair near the large tub, meant for any who had difficulty removing clothing due to age. Dooku felt an eyebrow twitch at Dayu's insistence that it was needed, but said nothing, pulling it over by the sink where it would be easier to sweep up the hair. Kenobi took a seat and Dooku leaned against the double sink, taking a moment to think.

"Skywalker's education seems to have been... splotchy."

Kenobi nodded. "I've been working hard to fill in the gaps and bring him up to speed."

Dooku looked skeptical. "Catch him up? Just how bad of a student is he?"

Kenobi shook his head. "He's not a bad student. Actually, all things considered, he's made substantial progress."

Dooku looked even more skeptical.

Kenobi let out a soft sigh. "Anakin came to the Temple very late. He knows he's behind all the other initiates and Padawans and he's taken to the lessons very well. The only areas where he truly struggles are if he perceives a subject as boring or irrelevant. Even then, he'll slog through it and do well, but it just won't stick."

The Jedi master blinked, taking a moment to absorb that small morsel of information, and read what Kenobi wasn't saying.

"Just when did he arrive at the Temple?"

"When he was nine."

"Nine? Nine?" Dooku pinched the bridge of his nose. That explained why Kenobi never shared stories of his "father" with the staff that took place after he was sixteen. Skyalker would have been born around that time and it would have looked suspicious if Kenobi didn't mention stories without his "brother." It also explained why stories of the two of them were limited to their years as master and Padawan.

... That meant Kenobi took on Skywalker right after Qui-Gon's death...

But that was foolishness! What Jedi in any sort of right mind would allow a grieving Padawan to take on a Padawan? Just what was the Council thinking?

Dooku burned to express his displeasure, but he merely let out a soft sigh, the only sign of his feelings he'd allow himself.

He squashed his feelings, buried them to release to the Force later when he was alone. With this new information, Kenobi was correct. Skywalker's progress was remarkable. But the youngling was going to lack discipline if he took to the Force so swiftly. He needed to understand hard work and effort and self-control.

Dooku pulled himself from that line of thought. He was not the child's Master. It wasn't his place to question another's teaching methods of a Padawan, even if he wondered if Kenobi was truly ready. He held his feelings under rigid control.

"What can you tell me of his education?"

Naturally, no sooner had the question been asked then Dayu approached with someone not on staff.

"Milord," Dayu greeted with a proper bow. "The barber is here."

"Thank you," he replied, then turned to Kenobi. "We'll need to finish this conversation later."

Kenobi shrugged. "There's not much more to say."

Dooku disagreed, but showed nothing and left so that Kenobi could get a proper haircut. He needed to do some research. There was something in Qui-Gon's last mission he didn't know and that was unacceptable.

"Do I have to wear this?"

Dooku glanced in his mirror to see Skywalker in his formal robes for the evening, exquisitely tailored and finely crafted. Plain white shirt hidden under a fitted gray vest and a formal coat of a deeper charcoal color, cut to the waist with two coattails extending in back. His dark trousers were formfitting, showing slightly spindly legs of adolescence, and handmade shoes. He, too, had been to the barber, his "delinquent" tail cut off. His braid still existed, the child adamantly insisting it was a memorial to his lost mother, and Kenobi had quickly explained that he, too, had worn one until he had come of age, and that it was a common tradition when a parent was lost on their planet.

Kenobi was in a similarly tailored suit, fitted slacks and a rich brown overcoat with coattails that hung to his knees. The ruffles of his white shirt poked out of the sleeves slightly, giving him a modern look. One arm was still in a sling, even after two weeks, and his goatee and short hair made him look handsome. The two were quite the striking pair, and Dooku knew they would be the talk of the party even without their creative backstory.

"The two of you are quite fetching," Dooku declared, turning to face them properly. His own colors were black and red, a hair more formal since he was the one hosting the gathering, and he wore a decorative scarf of a dark red.

"It's all so tight," Skywalker complained. "Fitted jackets are so annoying."

Dooku gave an irritated glance at the boy but ignored him, refusing to give the child any attention he clearly didn't need. Instead, he focused his gaze to Kenobi.

"The first guests will be arriving shortly. As I said before, this is a small party. At best there will only be around forty guests. Most of them are either political or noble, and are closer to me than to others. One of them is a likely candidate to the person I am assigned to find. The first half of the gathering will be greeting guests. Since this is your debut you will be there and exchange a few brief words. Deeper conversation will not happen until everyone has arrived. For now, keep all conversations polite and neutral."

Kenobi nodded. "I understand," he said. "Given the xenophobic nature of this planet, that we can be conceived of even obliquely as foreigners will make the guests naturally suspicious of us, and with their strong cultural attachment to communication we must respect that by following protocol to the letter."

"We already know all this," Skywalker said. "You don't have to explain it all for a fifth time."

Dooku at last fixed a gaze on the youngling. "Then perhaps you should demonstrate that you have the discipline to handle simple instructions, boy."

Skywalker flushed bright red and Kenobi immediately clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Anakin," he said softly, "go see if Tori has finished plating the hors d'oeurvres. Help her if she hasn't." The boy pouted but did as he was told.

"He doesn't respond well to that," Kenobi said as soon as the child was gone.

Dooku stepped forward. "That much is obvious," he replied. "That child has no discipline to speak of. To be expected, I suppose, if he was discovered as old as you say, but there is also a lack in teaching that is perpetuating this problem."

Kenobi looked away.

"Do not look away, boy," Dooku said, narrowing his gaze. He had hoped to wait until after the gathering to have this conversation, but the Living Force appeared to have stepped in. "The price of unhindered talent is arrogance, and that youngling has it in abundance. Has he ever struggled in his studies?"

"... No."

"Find something. Anything. Make him study it with acute purpose. Criticize him constantly. Make him work for every piece of praise you seem to be heaping on to him. He needs to understand what it is to work for something, that is what will teach him discipline. Stop giving him the message that he is always right, it's hurting him."

Kenobi frowned. "I hardly give him the message-"

"You do," Dooku interceded. "It's visible in everything he does. Have you not noticed how quick he is to defend his position whenever he is taken to task? He does that because he knows if he presses enough you will concede. Does he learn whenever you do find it in yourself to discipline him? No, because he still thinks he was right and that you are just unfair."

The unhindered confusion radiating off of Kenobi only set Dooku's teeth on edge, and he closed his mouth before his irritation turned to anger; instead seeking to control himself once more. These two had a terrible knack for making him emotional, and he refused to forget the old lessons his life had taught him. With a deep, inaudible breath he gestured the Jedi to follow him, and the two left the count's rooms and went down to the foyer. The butler Benaag was there, offering a stout nod.

"You know where to find us," Dooku said simply, and guided Kenobi to the greeting room. Tori appeared briefly with young Skywalker in hand, a bright smile on her face as she dropped him off. She lingered a moment, giving a wink to the child before disappearing.

"Anakin?" Kenobi asked.

"I'm sorry," the youngling mumbled, dipping his head.

Dooku displayed nothing, only nodded his head in acceptance, and internally smirked. Another skill of his cook that he took advantage of during these functions, her mothering tendencies made handling the teens when they appeared at these functions so much easier.

There was no time to talk after that as Benaag appeared with the first guest.

"My Lord Mesagog!" Dooku said brightly, greeting the reptilian. His species was native to the planet, the noble a healthy two hundred thirty-seven. The reptilian gave a firm three-talon handshake, his gold eyes bright and warm.

"I am happy you invited me," Mesagog said, his voice soft and smooth. Dooku watched as Anakin became fascinated how Mesagog's lower jaw moved, its undulating nature mesmerizing. "I take it these are your lost grandchildren?"

"It is an honor to meet an associate of my grandfather," Kenobi said smoothly, bowing his head in deference.

Mesagog nodded, placing his three-talon hand on the Jedi's shoulder. "I understand that our meeting is not under pleasant circumstances. For that I am sorry."

"Thank you for your condolences."

"Have you been here long?" Mesagog asked the boy, Skywalker. The young preteen blinked, his open mouth snapping closed.

"Oh, only a few weeks, sir," he stammered slightly. "Uh, I do call you 'sir,' right?"

Golden eyes smiled and Mesagog removed his hand from Obi-Wan to place it on Anakin. "I am not a member of your staff, child. You will address almost everyone here as 'my Lord' or 'my Councilor.' It was a good attempt, though."

Skywalker flushed at the polite correction, his jaw tightening, and he nodded. "Thank you, my Lord," he said carefully.

Mesagog nodded in approval, returning his gaze to Dooku. "I'll steal what time I can before the next guest arrives."

"Ah, too late for that, my Lord," said a female voice, and the three humans and reptilian turned to see a new guest arrive. She shrugged out of her shawl, handing it wordlessly to the maid Dayu, to reveal a silken frock that hugged her form tastefully and sensually. Minor stones encrusted the hems of her sleeves in a decorative pattern, as well as the cut of her deep neckline. The quality of her silk made the dress look airy, and her thick mass of honey-brown hair was pulled up to a tumble of tight curls.

"My Councilor Bridge," Dooku greeted, bowing formally before taking her in a gentle hug. "You look radiant."

"They all say that," she said softly, "but they never mean it. I did try though, these are your grandchildren, after all." She turned to the boys, both oogling her tactfully sensual beauty. Kenobi snapped out of it quickly, stepping forward and bowing, introducing himself. Skywalker needed to be prompted but he executed his introduction well enough, and it wasn't long before there was a steady stream of guests arriving and being greeted by Dooku and introduced to his new children. There were a few false starts on Skywalker's part, but after the first five guests or so the boy finally lived up to the challenge. He seemed proud of himself but Dooku merely clucked his tongue, nonverbally expressing that he shouldn't have needed the learning curve in the first place. Kenobi hadn't.

Skywalker pouted outrageously at the hidden message and set his jaw. It was another sign of his lack of discipline that he didn't recognize that Dooku was trying to teach him, and the air around the boy grew tense.

That is, until Kenobi clapped a hand on Skywalker's shoulder, knelt down, and stared at him for several long seconds.

Were they... were they communicating telepathically? After only three years together? Just how tightly bonded were these two?

The question was quickly filed away, however, as Benaag appeared to signal that the last of the guests had arrived.

Dooku looked at the two boys, but Skywalker already quoted the directions the pair had been given.

"A lot of people are going to approach us and talk to us. We're to smile and nod and keep it small talk because we haven't made any close acquaintances yet - that's the whole point of this meeting. Our parents are off limits because they're lost and we're still grieving, we're wide-eyed and innocent to the ways of the culture and ask a lot of technical questions to learn everything you already told us and obliquely hint that you're perfect for taking us in."

"Anakin."

Skywalker pouted again before correcting himself. "You're 'generous' for taking us in."

Dooku listened to it with deliberate disinterest, and only nodded in acknowledgement at the conclusion. The boy seethed but reigned in his facial expressions. Slightly. It was an improvement regardless, and that Dooku graced with an approving smile. He gave a quick look to Kenobi to show that this was how teaching was done, and turned to join the assembled in the main dining hall. Everyone was standing around the room, clustered in small groups and cliques engrossed in conversation. With his arrival the party truly began.

Dooku's target for this event was Councilor Bridge, a member of the ruling council and a stout advocate of cessation from the Republic. Her honey brown curls were easy to pick out, she was talking with her close friend Mesagog, the gold eyed reptilian being of similar political viewpoints. Neither were the one Dooku was ultimately seeking, but the odds were good that Councilor Bridge, with her political connections, knew the next person in line that would take Dooku to his ultimate goal. Zeltrax, ultimately, was a stepping-stone. The last seven months had led Dooku to Councilor Bridge, but he was not so eager that he would press his position. Instead, he circled around the room slowly, engaging in conversation with several of his patrons, offering small favors here and there to extend his reputation or his influence, tweaking the profile he had built for himself in small details to make him more affable to the right people, and overall seeing to the needs of his guests.

A little over an hour later, after the trivialities had been addressed, Tori appeared briefly, and Dooku signaled that it was time to eat. Tori and the hired help arrived with the banquet, and there were many oohs and aahs and hands immediately started snatching plates as people picked and chose what they wanted.

Kenobi, Dooku noted with a slight note of surprise, was right at home in the high-class environment. His polite and cultured words were smooth and seamless, and many commented to Dooku over the course of the night that he obviously took after his own esteemed person. Kenobi deflected several subtle questions about his heritage, never giving offense or seeming even to realize what he was doing. He lowered his eyes, arched his eyebrows, and tilted his head, all at the right cues; the boy was a natural. For a brief moment, Dooku could see Qui-Gon's training in Kenobi, all the good things in his old Padawan reflected in the boy, and for a long time he just stared.

"I am sorry for your loss, it appears it has affected you deeply."

Dooku stiffened, turning to see Mesagog with a glass of something in his clawed hand.

"Forgive me," he said quickly, "I do not intend to neglect my duties..."

The reptilian held up a hand. "Do not worry, my Lord," he replied easily, his lower jaw undulating. "I will keep your secret."

Dooku burned, slightly, to know he had let his control slip so dangerously that others could read his thoughts. He quickly schooled his expression and turned away from Kenobi.

Mesagog shook his head. "No, do not let me interrupt you. Your eldest grandson is a marvel to watch. One would never have guessed that he lived on another planet until two weeks ago." His large, reptilian head turned to Kenobi, and Dooku's eyes involuntarily followed. "He is remarkable."

Dooku feared what he would say in response, and so he said nothing.

The pair watched for a time before Mesagog ventured to ask another question. "Have you learned much about them since meeting them?"

"Not enough," Dooku said, unaware of the wistful quality in his voice. "Not nearly enough."

Mesagog eyed his patron for several seconds before putting his three-talon hand on Dooku's shoulder. "All things come with time. Human time is short by my standards, but I expect there will be enough."

Dooku turned to Mesagog, surprised to hear the understanding in his voice, before realizing that, over two hundred, there must have been several human friends Mesagog had that were passed on. Dooku suddenly felt his years, all the decades he had experienced and all the friends he, too, had lost or had been betrayed by. "Do you have regrets?" he asked softly, opening the opportunity for a truly intimate conversation.

Mesagog looked away for a time, and Dooku started to think that perhaps the two of them were not ready for that level of intimacy.

That was when the party crasher arrived.

Senator Goldar, resplendent in a rich blue overcoat that fit perfectly to his physical frame, fitted beige pants, and a stylish (and unnecessary) cane, walked casually into the room. The political opposite of every opinion in the house, everyone quieted as he made his entrance. Benaag trailed after him, flush with the impropriety of the act and struggling to find a polite way to kick the man out.

"So sorry I'm late," the reptilian senator said smoothly, willfully ignorant of the less than welcoming glares being thrown at him. He walked by and through several people before stopping in front of Dooku and Mesagog. Red eyes met gold only briefly before he continued. "I was shocked to hear of the discovery of your grandsons," he said, "You keep your private life so private."

"That is the tradition of Zeltrax, Senator," Dooku said, cordial, smooth, and profoundly annoyed that his maneuverings were being interrupted by this... politician. "Given the position you hold as representative of the Republic, one would hope that one would respect one's very own traditions."

The reptilian sniffed, elegantly taking a glass of something and swirling its contents in seeming contemplation. "I seek to perform my duty to the utmost of my ability," Goldar said. "When I learn that one of increasingly influential standing has a legacy, it is only right that a representative of the Republic comes to offer congratulations. Is that not so?"

Dooku's jaw worked slightly, his scope of focus narrowing to Goldar. The senator, by right of the fact that he was a senator, was pro-Republic where everyone in Dooku's carefully constructed social circle shied away from the bloated establishment. Zeltrax, a planet centered around communication, had little patience for the rampant political corruption, scandals, lies, and general untrustworthiness of the ruling structure of the Republic. Goldar's appearance was an open insult, moreover it was a message to Councilor Bridge - the person Dooku was trying to pursue as a lead to his quarry - that Dooku was watched and to be weary of. Months of work was being undone the longer this senator stayed, and Dooku mentally tallied through a list of ways to be rid of the reptilian.

First things first: humility.

"I hardly consider myself a person of influential standing," he said slowly. He was, of course, and determined to increase his influence to get what he wanted, but the profile he had created for himself included modesty in the political arena. An unassuming figure oblivious of the power he was garnering.

"You may not know it, my Lord," Senator Goldar said, "but you do; and that would make me remiss if I did not drop by for the debut of your grandsons. Tell me, where are they?"

As if on cue, young Skywalker marched right up to the reptilian. "Hello, Senator," he said with stiff formality, bowing slightly. "My name is Anakin."

"Hello, dear boy," the Senator said, bowing coyly in return. Goldar's red eyes scanned the boy quickly, almost dismissively, before locking onto the child's face. "Is that a Padawan braid you're wearing?"

Too controlled to let it show, Dooku started growling very loudly in his head.

Skywalker reached up to his braid and tugged it, tilting his head to one side. "It's my Loss Braid," he said, frowning. "It's a remembrance of my mother. I'll need a second one for my father, but Grandfather just gave me a haircut." Then he pouted. "Why are you being so rude? I thought people on this planet respected privacy."

Curses started filling Dooku's head, and he closed his eyes to the horror he was witnessing.

Senator Goldar took it in stride, smiling smoothly and patting the boy on the head with a three-talon hand. "You clearly don't know much about Zeltrax, do you? As a Senator my station is on equal footing with the Council; if we wanted to we could find out about anybody, but we choose not to out of respect for our citizen's privacy." Red eyes shifted to Dooku before continuing. "I am simply making polite conversation."

"It's a stupid conversation," Skywalker said, glaring up at the reptilian. "I do know that conversation is important here, so I thought you would do a little better when deciding how to talk to me than asking about my hair of all things. If you're not going to ask an appropriate question, then don't bother asking, and if you don't bother asking, then what was the point in coming here?"

"Anakin," Kenobi said, sidling up to the boy, "I think you've more than made your point. Senator, it is a privilege to meet you, is there anything my brother or I can do for you? Or perhaps our grandfather?"

The reptilian senator spent a much longer time sizing up Kenobi, and everyone felt more than a little awkward at the flagrant examination. Dooku's fists were tightly gripped at his sides, shaking slightly, before he took a deep, calming breath and stepped forward to end the farce. Mesagog watched from his side.

"Senator," Dooku said politely, a coifed smiled on his lips. "I must respectfully advise you that you are making a scene. Perhaps, if you express such interest in my grandsons, you may come at a later date, when there are fewer boundaries to cross." It also meant meeting Goldar in private, which could and would send all sorts of wrong messages to Councilor Bridge, Lord Mesagog, and any other number of people Dooku was trying to keep in good graces. This was going to be a major setback. Major. He was seething.

None of it showed.

Goldar smiled, insomuch as his reptilian jaw would allow, and nodded his head. Satisfied that he had gotten what he wanted, the senator turned and exited, leaving an empty loss of air in everyone's lungs.

The party ended shortly after that, far too soon for an average gathering, and Dooku's jaw was noticeably tight as he bid farewell to his guests. Lord Mesagog and Councilor Bridge left together, both offering measured looks before departing, and as soon as everyone was gone Dooku allowed himself the luxury of cursing.

Of course, young Skywalker was there to hear it.

"What is your problem?" the twelve-year-old asked.

Cold, hard eyes turned to the boy. "The 'problem' is that the last seven months of work I've put into cultivating my reputation and my political opinion has just been shredded to bits, all because you could not keep your mouth shut."

"How is this my fault?" Skyalker demanded, instantly irate. "You wanted him to leave, didn't you? That's what I did!"

"No, you drew attention to yourself," Dooku said. "Instead of intimating polite conversation like you were supposed to you broke several rules of conduct and instigated conversation with an official of higher rank than you, making you and therefore me look impertinent, feckless, and decidedly pro-Republic!"

Kenobi stepped forward, his brown coat hanging on his arms. "I, too, am partially to blame," the redhead said. "I stepped in as well, and for the damage we've done I am sorry."

Dooku was in no mood for this. "And now you cover for him again," he hissed, losing more and more control of his emotions. "That brat of a youngling will never learn because of this!"

"I'm here you know! Don't talk like I'm not in the room!"

"Silence, youngling."

"You can't tell me what to do!"

Dooku took a menacing step forward, ready to unleash a verbal thrashing - damn the fact that the boy was Kenobi's Padawan - when there was a polite cough, and all three parties turned to see the butler, Benaag, walking by the open door. Dooku realized he was having an argument where the entire staff could hear him, and that he had to be careful with his words. He had never had such a breach in his character before, and he leveled downright hateful glares at the two boys he had taken in out of kindness and was now paying for.

"We will discuss this at a later date," he said with utter finality, before marching out of the room and to his quarters.

Author's Notes: And we touch on a few things. If any of you have worked with children or have children of your own, you'll note that Dooku's approach to teaching/parenting is hardly loving. But with a bright child, there does need to be some sort of challenge. If a kid finds something easy and never has to work for something, it does do harm in the long run. It's not easy raising a child or teaching a child, and there is no real manual since every child is different. Dooku's not wrong in what he's trying to do, and his method can lead to the results he wants, but it needs to be countered with love and affection (something Jedi don't quite believe in) and that's where Obi-Wan comes into play. Obi-Wan is truly the best to train Anakin because he understands the need for affection and what Anakin's problems are. He just isn't getting support from the rest of the Jedi (as evidenced in the novelization of Attack of the Clones, in our opinion).

Sorry, it's the teacher in us. We love delving into that kind of stuff.

And Dooku, having not really been with the Jedi for a while in his undercover work and always being away from the Temple, sees that a grieving Padawan took on a Padawan and wonders what the hell the Council was thinking, not knowing of Qui-Gon's last wish. Dooku can look at them, not knowing the special circumstances, and see just how messed up things are because of all the exceptions. Granted, Anakin needed training, Obi-Wan was the best one for the job, etc, but Anakin does go to the Darkside and that's because of some fundamental flaws that Jedi can't take care of.

We seem to keep rambling and rambling. Sorry.

And we finally touch on who Dooku is seeking as his stepping stone and spin a bit of the mission plot. Naturally, the three visitors we name will be important (Councilor Bridge, Mesagog and Goldar). We won't say how, we'll just let that unfold. ^_^

Hope you enjoyed! See you next week.