THE EARLY DAYS DUET:
BOOK TWO: THE WILL OF THE FORCE
Chapter Three – Of Old Friends and Distant Memories
After my exchange with Padmé, I excused myself to the adjoining handmaiden's chamber, partially as a means to gather my belongings in preparation for my free afternoon, but mainly to give myself a breather from my long day of deception. My energy felt completely sapped. I sank wearily into a nearby chaise longue—which was not nearly as comfortable as its lush aesthetic pretended to be. It was just as much of a con artist as I was. I would have laughed at the irony if I wasn't so engulfed in my internalized stress.
Perhaps I had been too foolhardy. It would only be a matter of time before Panaka caught on to my ambitions and punished me accordingly. I felt inundated by the mounting pressure in obtaining much-needed evidence. The sooner I found information to support Kasaré's claims, the sooner I could give Padmé a justifiable reason to concede to a retrial.
The real trick would be finding satisfactory proof before Kasaré attempted to make contact again. I trusted Yané and Rabé to inform Padmé of the bare necessities of that conversation, so Padmé would remain unsurprised if the former princess made further contact. Unfortunately, time was still of the essence, as I did not have the capability to override any jurisdiction on the case. A circumstance such as this called for a resource that would be unaffected by the accord of Nabooian law, and who would be able to adhere to client confidentiality.
In fact, it dawned on me; a Jedi knight would be an ideal candidate for such an enterprise. As luck would have it, I knew exactly where to find one. The stars seemed to align in my favor. It was a narrow constellation to navigate, but it was a bright one nonetheless.
The thought should have invigorated me, but instead, I felt hindered by a fresh wave of apprehension. Before I could even think of enlisting in his help, I needed to figure out how to quell my nerves in the anticipation of seeing Obi-Wan again. Communicating with him while under the guise of queen was one thing—we were both well accustomed to maintaining professionalism when circumstances called for it. But he hadn't spoken with me as myself since...
I was hardly able to breathe life into my rumination before Saché asserted her presence in the room. Evidently, she had completed her work with Padmé, which indicated to me that the Queen had departed with the others to resume her duties. It was down to the two of us.
"All right Sabé, what's really going on?" she demanded, crossing her arms as a means of intimidation. "You haven't touched that argument with Padmé for months. And I know you wouldn't let it resurface unless you needed to stall for something."
"I can see nothing gets past you," I observed. I couldn't say I was surprised. While Saché was no longer a handmaiden in the official sense of the word, it didn't mean that her years of intensive training had ceased to exist. She remained well attuned to our collective inscrutability.
"It's a lucky thing that Padmé took your emotional bait," Saché replied. "She may not be so gullible next time."
"I had to do it," I shrugged helplessly. "Padmé can't know of what I've learned today. Not yet. I need more evidence first."
"Evidence? For what? Sabé, is someone in trouble?"
I hesitated. "Padmé might be. Actually, we all might be." I supposed now was as good a time as any to inform Saché of what happened.
Saché raised an eyebrow. "That sentence never bodes well…"
"We received a transmission from Kasaré Veruna," I explained. "She intends to prove her innocence against the assassination attempt that occurred during the election gala."
Saché's eyes darkened for a moment. "Go on…" Zam Wesell had very clearly crossed her mind upon the recollection.
"Kasaré has reason to believe that the entire ordeal was orchestrated by someone within the Royal administration. Or, more specifically, by a Royal collaborator within the Order of Sanctuary. Kasaré's reasonings are…compelling. But that means that the integrity of our sisterhood is now at stake."
Within seconds, Saché had seated herself next to me in a fluid movement of grim urgency. "Tell me everything."
Afternoon, Guest Quarters
I held my breath, uncertain of how to proceed. A palace attendant had graciously informed me of which guest room housed Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now I stood at the door, staring uncomfortably at the last barrier that stood between the Jedi and myself.
Saché agreed that Obi-Wan would be an ideal resource in solving our political predicament, so at least I could hide my worry underneath a blanketed charade of professionalism if we were unable to resume our bantering dynamic from years ago. I hardly knew if we were the same people that we had been during the reclamation of Naboo. This next conversation would reveal where we stood with each other. And being on the cusp between not knowing and finding out left me feeling nervous beyond compare.
With a brief clenching of my fist, and a determined swallow, I mustered the courage to raise my fingers to the door's access panel. I pressed the grey button on the console, alerting him of my presence. A toggle pivoted on the panel, and a soft blue light flared in response. Then the door breathed open, giving me access to the room.
"Hello, Sabé," came the familiar voice, warm and friendly. "Do come in."
I obliged the invitation. He was out of sight from my direct line of vision, but I easily traced the location of his voice upon my entrance.
The room was bright, expansive, and elegant, as was the case in every room of the palace. Yet despite the room's vastness, it gave off a comfortable impression of simplicity, which seemed more than befitting for our Jedi guest.
Obi-Wan had stationed himself behind a marble countertop along the far side of the room, busying himself with the portable tea station.
I tugged nervously at my necklace, as if the motion might give me both solace and mettle. "Hello, stranger," I said, offering a smile. "I heard from a certain queen that you had requested a visit from me."
Obi-Wan briefly paused from his task and returned a smile of his own. "You heard correct," he responded lightly. "I couldn't resist the request. In my line of work, it's not often that I get the opportunity to reacquaint myself with an old friend." His appearance may have matured, but his blue eyes still dazzled with a childlike exuberance.
I had nearly forgotten how easygoing he was. Obi-Wan's Jedi stoicism was as much a mask for him as Amidala was for me. I was comforted by the reminder of it, and felt myself slipping back into natural cadence of our friendly dialogue.
"I can relate," I replied, feeling my apprehension begin to disappear like a fading wisp of smoke.
I pressed my weight along the front side of the counter, observing from across the way as he resumed his menial task. Two simple ceramic cups waited patiently on the counter while he attempted to figure out the manufactured contraption that was positioned in front of him.
"Need any help there?" I inquired.
"I think I've got it," Obi-Wan deterred politely. "It's been awhile since I've used Naboo technology," he said with a puzzled frown, "but I'm determined to outsmart this little piece of machinery." His finger floated hesitantly over the array of buttons on the device.
"Mm," I uttered with open skepticism. I pointed to the button that his finger was farthest from. "The infuser feature is on the left there."
"Ye of such little faith," he said in mock-offense; but he made it clear that my help was appreciated: "And which one boils the water?"
"Center switch. Be sure to press that one first, if you haven't already."
Obi-Wan did as instructed, and within moments, the floral aroma of ryoo and sapflower began to mingle into the milieu of the room.
Obi-Wan gave his hand a slight flail of satisfaction upon completing his project. "I'm afraid to ask what the other multitude of buttons are for," he said with a chuckle. "Making tea should not be this complicated. In my humble opinion, a self-heated kettle would have done the job just as well."
"Naboo does seem to prefer aesthetic convenience in favor of practicality," I agreed with a laugh.
"Well then," Obi-Wan rolled up the sleeves of his beige tunic and moved the tiny mugs closer toward the tea station. "Would you care for an aesthetic cup of sapflower tea, Miss Sabé?"
I played along, feigning a grandiose interest. "I would be much obliged to partake my dear sir," I said, unable to suppress a devilish grin of my own. It was as if nothing had changed; as if no time had elapsed since our friendship began all those years ago.
Obi-Wan poured the beverage and scooted it towards me. I propped my elbows against the edge of the countertop, accepting the drink as it finished its brief commute.
"So you drink tea?" I asked, opening the door for conversation.
"Quite often," Obi-Wan said, pouring his share. "I find that it helps to reinforce meditation and relaxation."
"In my experience it's been better suited as a means to calm down dignitaries," I said, cupping my hands around the circumference of my warmed mug. "Often, Yané and I would bring tea to Governer Bibble whenever his conversations with Padmé turned into monologues. I'm routinely amazed at the difference it makes."
"Oh dear," Obi-Wan said, elongating his face in dramatized shock, "have I just uncovered a covert weapon of the Queen's secret service?"
I lifted the drink and held it poised to my lips, giving him a furtive glance. "Tell no one," I said conspiratorially.
He raised his cup in response. "I wouldn't dream of it," he vowed, relinquishing another smile.
I dared to take a first sip. Not too scalding, nor too strong. I savored its floral sweetness as it entered my mouth and into my throat. I took advantage of the quiet moment to recalibrate my next move. I could either sustain the lighthearted repartee, or segue into more pressing matters. The window of opportunity fit aptly with the topic of secrecy and politics, but selfishly, I couldn't bring myself to jump that quickly into serious conversation.
I stalled, taking another drink. Much to my chagrin, I had taken too much at once, causing my throat to pinch in opposition as the tea made its way down. I coughed and spluttered after I had swallowed.
"You all right?"
"Hot," I lied, clearing my throat. "Tea is apparently effective at gagging me as well as politicians."
"To be fair, you do play the part of a politician on a fairly regular basis," Obi-Wan pointed out.
"Hm," I said, glaring suspiciously at my tea. "It knows…"
Obi-Wan migrated around the counter with his tea in hand. "Perhaps smaller sips will prevent you from succumbing to the worst of its animosity," Obi-Wan advised humorously. Then with seamless facilitation, he ushered me cordially toward his seating area in the middle of the chamber.
"I'm humbled by your concern," I said, elbowing him lightly as he guided me towards the seat opposite of his. "But I'll have you know I haven't needed protection since the invasion."
"I'll wager you didn't need protection even then," Obi-Wan replied with a dose of sincerity.
Against my wishes, I felt the heat of a blush creep up from my neck and onto my cheeks. I gave a fixated stare at my small cup of tea, hoping my tawny cowl might cover the worst of my face's betrayal. The liquid quivered and modulated within its ceramic confines. It almost appeared to be laughing at me. I took vindictive swig of the mocking beverage.
"Speaking of protection," I said, redirecting once again. "How have things been since you've taken Anakin under your wing?"
"Surprisingly well," he said. "He has a great deal of vitality." He paused. "But his growing confidence seems to lend to a chronic impulsivity. It has a penchant of getting him into trouble. Though in spite of that—or, perhaps even because of that, I've truly grown fond of him."
"How old is he now?" I asked.
"Nearly eleven," Obi-Wan replied.
The edge of my mouth tugged into a smile. "I was the same age when I enrolled in the Security Academy here on Naboo. I recall having that very same temperament."
Obi-Wan looked back on me in mild surprise. "I had no idea you had joined the forces at so young an age."
I shrugged. "Naboo prides itself in its statistical propensity for prodigies. I am no exception to that number. Intelligence and maturity are cultivated above all else. But even as a youth, I had my vices. Like Anakin, my pride often influenced my behavior."
"Did you ever outgrow it?" With his tea braced in both hands, Obi-Wan propped his elbows on his lap, leaning forward in interest.
I waved a hand dismissively. "Not entirely," I said. "But I did learn to control it. I think my career as a decoy played a very strong role in that. Once the stakes of my actions became real enough to me, I began to recognize the importance of restraint."
It was Obi-Wan's turn to look away. Unlike me, his adjustment was introspective rather than embarrassed. "I worry about Anakin potentially letting those stakes dictate his actions without forethought," he said, rubbing a hand idly across his chin. He looked hilariously sage for being concerned about the rash behavior of an adolescent boy.
"You should grow a beard," I blurted before I could stop myself.
Obi-Wan stilled, and threw me a look of utter confusion. "Pardon?"
"Nevermind," I said hurriedly. "Forget I said anything." In my mind, I was digging myself an imaginary hole that I could bury myself in.
"No, no," Obi-Wan countered. "Now you have me interested."
I dipped my pinky into my tea and started swirling it quiet vexation. I wished there was a way to salve my embarrassment. But of course there was no way to undo what I had said, and Obi-Wan's perplexity wasn't going to fade, so I was left to complete my train of thought. "It's just…you seem to lend yourself to a very paternal nature. I think a beard would really capture the essence of those contemplative frowns you're so prone to making."
"Thank you? I suppose?" Obi-Wan said, his tone friendly but quizzical.
"Well, I mean…Anakin's still just a boy," I continued, working myself dangerously close to aimless blathering. "It's exceedingly normal for growing boys to behave brashly. I think you may be putting too much pressure on yourself for something that will adapt in its own due time. He will make his own mistakes, and learn from them accordingly. Don't rob him of that opportunity." I hadn't meant to preach on the subject, which detoured rapidly from facial hair into parenting advice…Gods I must seem so insolent to him.
But Obi-Wan seemed to ponder thoughtfully on my words. "I suppose you're right," he said. "To tell you the truth, I feel somewhat unprepared for this role. It's exceedingly rare for a newly Knighted Jedi to train an Apprentice so soon. We both seem to be in the process of growing and adapting, each in our own way," he confessed.
I was about to give a reply, but my comlink starting chirping incessantly for my attention. I winced at the noise, withdrew it, and looked at Obi-Wan apologetically. "Sorry," I said, rising from my seat. "This will just be a minute."
Obi-Wan politely gave me leave. I set my mostly-finished tea on the nearby end table and made my retreat. There wasn't much by way of privacy with the exception of the balcony. I walked that direction and pressed the button to halt the obnoxious sounds emitting from my comlink. A small hologram emerged, revealing the figure of my older sister Jaina.
"Hello, Sabé!" she said with a hearty smile. "Just following up. Are we still expecting you for dinner tonight?"
Oh…sithspit. I had completely forgotten. My day had taken so many unexpected turns that my previous engagements completely slipped my mind.
"Of course, Jaina," I said, pretending it hadn't escaped my mind.
"All right. Mother insists that you arrive prior to sunset. And don't forget to buy some muja fruit on your way over. She says the fruit stand off the main square has the best assortment."
"Will do," I promised.
"And boy, have I got news for you!"
"You always have news for me," I said, rolling my eyes.
"I resent that," she said with a pout. "In my defense, we still have those five years of separation to make up for."
She was right, of course. After I had transferred from the Academy and into the Order of Sanctuary, I had become completely engulfed in the secrecy of my trade. It wasn't until after the reclamation of Naboo—after Obi-Wan had found my family amidst the chaos of restoring our planet—that I had even seen my family since my departure. Thankfully, a lot of things changed for the better after we'd overcome the Trade Federation. Naboo had a renewed understanding of how important it was to maintain family ties. Vacation benefits and family visitations had become highly encouraged; and in some places, even required.
"Besides," Jaina said with a wink, "this news is actually really big news."
"I suppose I'll have something to look forward to, then," I said with a smile. "I have news, too. And I'm willing to bet that it's bigger than your news."
"I sincerely doubt that," Jaina replied.
"I guess we'll see," I said.
"Do I get a hint?"
"Not unless you have a hint you're willing to disclose," I volleyed.
Jaina pursed her lips, debating whether or not to part with an inkling of information. Her curiosity played the winning hand. "It has to do with a job," she said.
"And mine has to do with a person," I replied.
Jaina's eyes widened. "A man person?"
I shook my finger in disapproval. "I already gave you my hint. Just inform mother to add another place setting at the table for my arrival."
"That confirms it! It is a man person! Is it Xarix? I'll bet it's Xarix. He's been eying you for years."
"It is in no way what you think it is, Jaina," I said insistently, feeling heat rush to my face again. Thank goodness holograms veiled such things with their blue emissions, otherwise Jaina would notice and go from persistent to intolerable. Before she could harass me with more questions, I hastily wrapped up the conversation. "And I promise you'll find out soon enough. I'll see you tonight. Four hours."
I shut off my comlink and huffed a sigh. Jaina was always high energy, which I was often able to reciprocate. But I suppose I backed myself into a corner with the subject matter. I pocketed my comlink and reentered the chamber's interior.
Obi-Wan had moved from his seat during my brief absence, observing a royal portrait on the wall with vague interest. Upon my entrance, his focus adjusted back towards me.
"Is everything well?" he asked.
"Very well," I assured him. "That was just my sister Jaina. Do you remember her?"
"Of course I do," Obi-Wan replied. "I could hardly forget."
"Good," I said. "Because you're going to join us for dinner tonight."
"Oh I couldn't impose…" Obi-Wan began to decline.
"Nonsense," I said, resolute. "My family never got to properly thank you for what you did for us all those years ago. Besides, it is my privilege host you during your stay on Naboo."
"Still as stubborn as ever, I see," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head as if to say What am I to do with you? "Very well," he relented, "I would be honored to dine with your family."
I gave a satisfied nod. Bringing Obi-Wan along would enable two things: First, it gave me a timeline in which to impart my news about Kasaré before he departed for Coruscant again. And second, I wasn't inclined to say goodbye to him again so soon. Visiting my family would prolong his stay, even if it was just for a little while.
"Welcome to Ferentina," the PA system announced as the transit shuttle slowed to a stop.
"Home sweet home," I said to no one in particular.
The double doors opened, permitting commuters to make their exit. Obi-Wan and I were amid the small throng.
Ferentina was a historic city; one that focused primarily on agriculture and local trade. It was also the location of one of the Trade Federation's most infamous concentration camps. The city had been in ruins upon their attack, but the years of restoration afterward had made a notable difference since then. New buildings emerged in tandem to the renovations of others. Due to the notoriety of the prison camp, Ferentina had also become a tourist hotspot, providing a more lucrative means to expand the land and its inhabitants. I was disgusted by how Naboo's formerly imprisoned collective could divert their attentions so easily towards commodifying their past torment. Unfortunately, economy was a necessary monster that always needed to be fed regardless of the circumstances that nurtured it. Yet, if the people were made happier for it, I could hardly resent the results.
"I'm relieved to see how much has changed for the better since my last visit," Obi-Wan observed.
"Believe me, that makes two of us," I said, breathing in a lungful of fresh air. I removed my handmaiden cowl, letting the fabric drape behind me while my long brown hair billowed free from its former restraint. The country breeze felt unbelievably soothing against my skin. The rustling of my hair almost tickled at the sensation, and I couldn't resist twirling a little as I walked along the boarding plank.
Obi-Wan was not as indulgent as I was, but he took an obvious delight in my childish dalliance. "This reminds me of when I gave you a tour of Coruscant," Obi-Wan said.
"That was a definite highlight of my time spent there," I said. "But it looks like this time it is now my turn to show you around."
"Indeed," he said, falling into step with me as we walked off the elevated platform of the transport station.
"We still have a couple of hours left before my family is expecting us," I said, noting the time. "Come on, let me show you the main square."
Ferentina's imperious clock tower stood in the center of all the activity, tall and proud. It served as our beacon as I led Obi-Wan toward the heart of town. The clock tower was a historic landmark, and one of the few buildings to have been left upright during the events of Naboo's Invasion. It had since become a memorial of sorts. At its base stood a plaque that cataloged all of the lives that had been lost within Ferentina during its time as Camp Four.
Despite its sobering reminder, it was also the chief location for many city-wide celebrations, and right now there was a local harvest festival taking place. There was a group of young girls performing line dances, wherein they weaved colored ribbons as they crossed each other. By the dance's conclusion, an elaborate design had been created, which was then displayed proudly as an overhanging decoration along the front side of the clock tower. Multitudes of artisans, performers, solicitors, and citizens filled the main street, giving the scene a vibrant buzz of activity.
Along the way, Obi-Wan and I stumbled upon a quintet of folk performers. They played a familiar Ferentinian ode, and I found myself pausing our stroll and clapping along to it. Obi-Wan joined in, unfamiliar with the tune, but happy to be a part of the experience. The performers vamped until they drew a big enough crowd to encourage a lively dance. I was swept away with nostalgia as the tune commenced.
"Come, come, my dear! You must dance!" An elder gentleman encouraged, offering me his hand in invitation. He was already dancing, but required a partner.
My feet felt compelled to oblige. I hadn't heard this tune since I was a young girl; but to my amazement, I had retained all the steps to the dance that accompanied it. I glanced back at Obi-Wan, as if I needed his permission, which of course I didn't. But I didn't want him to think that I'd all but abandoned him, either.
"If you don't mind?" I asked, beginning to succumb to the allure of partaking in the celebration of my cultural history.
"Please, by all means!" Obi-Wan encouraged, smiling broadly. "I'm perfectly content to observe from here."
Within seconds, I was swept away into the festivities, pounding my feet against the cobblestones, and weaving in a synchronized pattern between the multitudes of people. The elderly gentleman would occasionally take my hand and guide me in a circular fashion back into the dance's cycle. My face was flushed as the dancing continued. I relished the freedom of swaying my skirts, stamping my feet, clapping loudly, and cheering openly. It was so easy to simply let the pains and pressures of my work life dissipate under the illusion of euphoria.
At last, the song ended, and a round of applause repaid the musicians in kind.
Another song began. I was offered another dance by a different attendee, but this time I politely declined. There was still so much more to show Obi-Wan, and I didn't want him to remain in the outskirts of my nostalgia.
"Where to next?" Obi-Wan said, offering me his arm. I took it, all the while trying to control my labored breathing. I was flushed and beginning to sweat from my exertion, but I still felt jubilated from the festivities.
"I still need to get some muja fruit before we head to dinner. There's a local vendor just past the south side of the square."
It was a short walk, but idly zigzagging through the horde of people and festival kiosks made the endeavor last a little longer before we reached our destination.
"Have you ever had muja before?" I asked, perusing the rows of fruit in the market stand.
"I can't say as I have," Obi-Wan admitted.
"Oh, then your taste buds are in for a religious experience," I said. "Muja fruit is my favorite. It's tangy with a simultaneous sweetness to it…but the flavor remains subtle along with the texture." I plucked a handful from a cart and approached the vendor, continuing my conversation all the while. "It's commonly used to make juice and sauces; though I confess, I am far more indulgent when muja is incorporated on sweets and pastries."
"That'll be 12 credits," the vendor requested upon gauging the price.
I pulled out my metallic credit chip and completed the transaction. We continued on our way upon packaging our purchase.
Time was passing all too quickly before my family was to expect us. Even with my afternoon of respite, I began to grow anxious as the evening drew near. Would I tell him before dinner? After we returned to the palace? Or right before he made his departure? I supposed there was no "proper" time to invest in a topic as difficult as treason and disobedience…but I knew it would still have to be done, whether I liked the outcome or not.
My legs felt sore from all the walking and dancing. It didn't help that my shoes weren't well suited for long periods of mobility, but every single moment was worth the aches and pains. My head and my heart felt cleansed; no longer overwrought with secrecy and mind games. Ferentina was effective at enchanting me with its charm and provinciality. I sobered to know that the comfort of this life was one that I had given up for the sake of protecting it for others. But my moments of reprieve became all the more precious for it, and reminded me why I chose the path that I that I did.
"I know you hadn't originally planned for it, but thank you for accompanying me today," I said to Obi-Wan. "Having company made the day considerably more enjoyable."
"I think today was as much a treat for you as it was for me," Obi-Wan reciprocated. "It is rare for me to have free time after a mission. Frequently I receive additional assignments before I even make it back to the Jedi Temple."
"That sounds exhausting," I sympathized.
"I've been doing it since I was thirteen," Obi-Wan said with a shrug. "I've become predisposed to that kind of life. As a keeper of the peace, there is no nobler calling."
I mulled over his words. Keeper of the peace. We both came from very different backgrounds, yet our callings remained unequivocally similar. It got me thinking about the Order of Sanctuary. I wondered how my sisterhood compared to that of his Jedi Order.
At last, we made it near the outskirts of my family's acreage. Quite unlike the prestige of the palace grounds and noble households of Theed, my home resembled something of a much smaller mien. The windows were decorated with blue shutters, and there was a modest balcony on the third floor that was braced by four simple posts on that surrounded the main entrance below. The path to the house was a simple, meandering dirt path abutted with trees and trimmed underbrush.
"Welcome to the Evoria residence," I proclaimed as we approached the walkway.
"It's beautiful. Quite spacious, too," Obi-Wan observed.
"My father runs a vineyard; we specialize in effervescent wine. It's a select favorite of the aristocracy," I said. "Father became very successful due to our committed patronage. But he's also an exceedingly frugal individual. The only large investments he made were towards the upkeep of our land and a good education of Jaina and myself."
"He sounds like a very honorable man," Obi-Wan replied.
"I think you'd like him," I said. "You're both fairly humble and soft spoken individuals."
"I look forward to meeting him."
"Technically you already have," I pointed out.
"Well, yes, in a manner of speaking, but that was an interaction that was centered on facilitating a reunion. This time I may actually end up getting to know everyone."
"Jaina will demand your attention within moments," I forewarned. "She's always been a forceful personality. Genuine and lovable, to be sure, but…very emotive."
"I imagine many sibling disputes arose from that over the years," Obi-Wan guessed, his voice giving off the smallest hint of sass. "Two big personalities living in such close proximity sounds dangerous."
"Oh when we were younger, we were absolutely toilsome for my poor parents. As we grew, we became quite close. But of course that didn't stop us from arguing every so often, as siblings are wont to do. For instance," I said, pointing to an angular tree at the end of the roadway. "See that tree right there?" It was a tall, gangly looking tree that jutted out awkwardly near the widening apron of the path.
Obi-Wan gave an affirmative nod in response.
"When I was five, I had provoked Jaina by teasing her about a boy she liked. She didn't react well to it, and angrily chased me about until I clamored up that tree. She tried climbing after me, but she wasn't as small or light as I was, being about five years my senior. While the upper limbs of the tree supported me, one of the branches snapped on Jaina. She fell off and broke her arm."
Obi-Wan and I paused under the tree in question while I continued my story. "It must have been a long fall," he said, looking up at the foliage of the tree. I tried to pay no mind to the full exposure of his neck as he strained to see the broken limb in question.
"It was one of the most terrifying moments of my young life," I confided. "I thought for certain she was going to die as I watched her fall down."
Inexplicably, my heartbeat began to quicken, and my fingers tingled as though they had just been rendered numb. I was caught off guard, thinking maybe I was simply feeling a new physiological response to my infatuation. But the sensation felt more like an autonomic response...as if my body was suddenly warding off something. I tried to ignore the feeling, hoping it was just a residual reaction to a lack of food.
"I presume this altered the course of your relationship with her?"
"Oh not remotely," I said. Even talking was beginning to become difficult. I grew dizzy, and the tingles migrated from my fingers to my arms. I clenched my hands into balled fists to try and stop the feeling. "Arguing was always inevitable for me. But I did grow closer to her after that incident."
My condition was rapidly worsening. Suppressing it at this point was becoming difficult, and perhaps even unwise. I could taste the pooling of saliva as it coated the inside my mouth. Oh gods, was I going to throw up? Breathing became shallow and rapid, as though my lungs were being compressed. My limbs felt heavy, and my necklace radiated warmly against my skin, as though it were absorbing my own feverish body heat. I tried to blink away the dizziness and planted my hand against the trunk of the tree to assist my balance.
No sooner did I touch the bark, then my vision blurred and suddenly I felt like I was being forcibly reeled somewhere else. It was as if the entire world had shifted, and I was being sucked away from it like a ship trapped in a tractor beam.
When my eyes refocused, I was back in my dream world.
No.
Not again.
Everything looked the same…yet, nothing looked familiar. I stood by the very same tree. The sky was still clear and blue. But the idiosyncratic differences that surrounded me were staggering: I no longer felt ill. Obi-Wan was no longer present. A large estate stood in place of my home, and the expansive view of Ferentina's agriculture now had been replaced by a distant horizon of lush mountains.
Desperately, I strained to conjure myself back to reality, though I hardly knew how to accomplish such a thing. I realized too late that my sudden nausea was a prelude to being eviscerated from my normal plane of existence. I should have seen the signs…but how was I to recognize that my body was being pulled into some other dimension? This had never happened to me consciously before.
I heard voices atop the tree. I looked up, my heart knocking wildly in panic. I took a step back to get a clearer view.
Two little girls. Jaina and myself? Was I reliving the memory? No…these girls were happy. Laughing.
"Leia! Wait up; I'm not as fast as you!"
"You're gonna have to work on that then!"
I saw a little girl with long brown hair, and another girl of the same age. This one had startling white hair. My stomach sank at the recollection of what I was witnessing.
This was my dream from last night. I looked at the ground, dreading the possibility of seeing death and decay. To my relief, nothing was there except long strands of healthy grass and yellow wildflowers.
"Do you think we'll get in trouble if our new tutor catches us?" the white haired one asked in mild apprehension.
"I don't think so. She's blinder than a sea-mouse. If she shows up, we'll be real quiet so she won't find us."
"She makes me nervous."
"Oh, Winter, don't be silly," Leia admonished to her fair-haired counterpart.
"She's just very stern and forceful," Winter insisted.
I felt like I wasn't meant to overhear this conversation. But they were ignorant of my existence, and I had little else to do about my predicament other than listen.
"I think something happened to her. Something terrible and romantic," Leia said dreamily. She plucked a leaf from the tree, twirled it between her fingers and blew on it softly, watching the flimsy greenery tremor in response.
"She never talks about the Clone Wars," Winter said, seeming to agree. "Or the Old Republic."
"Neither does father," Leia said almost sadly.
Clone Wars? Old Republic? What were they talking about?
Sabé…
That voice again.
I turned to face about me. The scenery rippled into nonexistence, like the undulations of a pond being penetrated by skipping stones. No more trees or talkative little girls. Even the mountains had disappeared. I was solitary, but I wasn't alone.
"Who's there?" I demanded. I was terrified to interact; terrified of what I may find.
A shape began to materialize. It was gradual at first, with a bronze light emitting a reddened core.
From the center of the light's culmination, a figure began to emerge in the shape of a woman. She was resplendent in a gorgeous array of golden silk lined with red fur. Her dark hair was adorned simplistically, but with an elegance that accentuated her poise and grace.
But it was her face above all else that left me stupefied. Her eyes were a deep and soulful brown, and a light dusting of freckles spanned across her square face. The most distinguishing feature was the single scar of remembrance that was seared vertically across her lower lip. It was a face I had seen depicted in countless portraits, sculptures, and tapestries.
She was our planet's first Queen. This was Queen Minrota.
A/N: Sorry for the delay on this segment! Writer's Block seized hold of me for awhile and due to taking 4 different literature courses, I am quite literally booked with ample reading homework every day. The two jobs thing definitely has me on a chokehold as well…nonetheless, I remain fixated on continuing this story!
Thank you to all who have been flooding my inbox with reviews and kind words! Definitely keep 'em coming! They never cease to make me smile.
Again, updates will fluctuate, but my goal is to submit 2 chapters per month, so anticipate the next one to be made available by early February. I hope that this chapter will satiate until then.
Thanks again!
