High Flying, Adored
Chapter Four
Disclaimer: See chapter three.
Crystal: I think you should be able to e-mail the website admin yourself, or maybe go thorough a step by step guide to joining. Have you read the ToS? That might help. Just try again, I suppose. But if you still need help, let me know.
Madame Naberrie: By all means, share. Things should, hopefully, heat up about now.
Shi Feng Huang: Thanks! That was the hope, so glad you liked it!
Amylion: Oh wow, thanks so very, very much!
Ledagirl321: Well, I kind of wanted to leave that short and focus more in on the reception. But I hope it didn't take away from your enjoyment of the fic.
Anwinn: Thanks, hope I can live up to expectations.
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"Oh, but, then,
As my life has been altered once,
It can change again!"
- Beauty and the Beast
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He couldn't deny their decision had surprised him, at least a little. He supposed it made sense, after all, they'd been friends for a very long time. For Padmè, with Anakin gone, and for Bail, with Breha as gone as Anakin, just more physically…. Well, in any event, it made sense.
"So then what are you going to do with the gi- Luke, don't put that in your mouth!" Trying to have a conversation over vid link had become an exercise in multi-tasking while trying to speak and watch over the almost eight month old child. He dutifully scooped up the boy, removing the sandy, grimy whatever from his hand and replacing it with a small, more mouth safe toy. There was a tiny laugh from Padmè, somewhat harsh in its desperation, as she wanted to be the one replacing the items in her boy's hands.
"Anyway," he continued with a cough, eyes set firmly on the rather disappointed young child, "what about Leia? It would be disastrous for anyone else to know they're twins. With who knows now, the secret is safe, but…" He trailed off, not wanting to quite consider that possibility.
"We've figured it out," she said confidently. "The only ones who have been allowed to see the children are you, Yoda, Bail, and I. Oh, and the med-droids, but that doesn't count. We're going to erase the memory on the droids and keep Leia hidden for another six months. By that time, I will have…." She struggled for a moment with the false term, "given birth to Bail's daughter. She's small for her age anyway, if we disguise things just so…and Master Yoda said some minor manipulations with the Force on her features ought to keep things secretive. We'll just say she's quick for her age."
"It doesn't help," Obi-Wan reminded, "that she already is."
"Yes," Padmè sighed, quite proud of her little girl. "She's an absolute jewel, bright in all the right ways!" After a pause, she managed to ask, "How is Luke?"
"Fine," he responded, motioning the not quite toddler over. "Here, Luke, say hello to your mother." With a grunt, he pulled the child onto his lap, and he glanced shyly at the vid link.
"Hello, Luke," she said softly, and he merely waved timidly. He quickly put the child down again, sensing the heartbreak in her eyes even through the link was grainy.
"I meant to congratulate you on your nuptials," he coughed, changing the subject, "with Bail. I mean, we talked about it, and all the plans its making work, but I never got to say anything."
She blinked, surprised, and looked like she would have rather continued a conversation on her son; but she was hardly opposed to talking about her new husband, and said with light confusion. "That was three months ago!"
"Oh yes, I know that. But you're busy, and I suppose I'm busy, and this damn-"
"Watch your language around him!"
"-Darn," he corrected himself stiffly, "vid link doesn't like working, and….in any rate, I suspect you'll turn out well. I don't mean anything romantic or anything like that, but…stable. Which is better than Anakin could offer, I suppose."
"Yes," Padmè sighed breathily. "True enough. But all I ever asked from him was romance."
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The ceremony, she supposed, was far more opulent than the wedding itself had even been, but maybe that's because it was more exclusive. Very few press people were allowed in, and while the wedding had mostly been dignitaries, it had allowed common folk to press about the windows and outside the doors. The reception was invitation only.
Of course, she didn't know a soul there. Now and then she'd be startled by a face she was sure she recognized from somewhere, and that would puzzle her for awhile – until she realized she'd seen their picture in a holo stat, or through one news bulletin or another. That was almost shocking. Six months ago, she would have laughed had she been told what she would be doing and who she would be with tonight. But there it was, all the same.
And her now husband was quite affable and handsome for anyone who cared to speak to him. He smiled for cameras and lead her around the massive hall with her arm linked firmly in his; she was unsure if this was to keep her from escaping or not. Fleetingly, she sensed he was more willing to escape the hustle and bustle of his own – well, their own wedding reception.
Strange…she made a point of it in her mind, and intended to grill him about it later. She almost liked this little deceitful game, finding out who could top who with what questions and seeing what information could be cajoled. She could almost see why Leia loved being the youngest member of the Senate so much.
He took her around, introducing her to Grand Moffs and foreign dignitaries, and it was all quite droll, waiting for the cooks to finish dinner – by this time, she thought she might faint with hunger. He'd been about to lead her away to someone else when her eyes caught sight of a body across the room, not quite skulking in a corner, but looking a little out of place and a lot sinister.
"Who's that?" she whispered to him, and he leaned his head down to catch it. A photographer snapped a picture of what he must of thought was a tender moment between the newlyweds and Luke shifted his stance – forcing her to do the same – and gave the camera a smile and a pose; it would all be on the holo net before the night was out.
She re-pointed the direction out to him, and his keen eyes scanned where she was looking. "The Falleen in the back, I'm sure I've seen him before…."
"Oh," he finally said, eyes darkening. He began to walk her on again, when she dug her heels into the floor in as delicate a way as possible – the last thing either of them needed was to seem the least bit confrontational in front of so many eyes.
"Listen," she hissed. "I don't know a soul here, so you can gallivant all you like, but if I can find a familiar face, by the Force, I will!" Her voice began to raise just a bit, and he pressed a smile onto his lips as someone walked by, pretending to laugh as though she'd just said something very witty.
"Oh, that's very funny. But I think if maybe we sat down for a moment or two…" She narrowed her eyes at him – didn't trust him, didn't like him. Never had, never would. "You're wearing monstrous heels, your feet have to be a little tired."
Well, alright, true enough, and she conceded. He lead her over to their own table, which was just as well, as dinner was just about ready to serve. To her surprise, when the dignitaries sat down, the Falleen sat at their table! Of course there were the obligatory people like Vader and Tarkin and such, but someone so unsocial…
It wasn't the holo net, she thought to herself. I didn't see him there. I know if I just concentrate a little harder…
"Well?" she demanded while the first course was brought around.
"His name's Prince Xizor," her husband said stiffly, cutting into his food and staring at it as though it were something very serious and note worthy.
"Of course!" she cried just a touch louder than the whispers they'd been exchanging, briefly drawing eyes in their direction. An admiral was talking, though, and the focus shifted again, leaving bride and groom more alone. "I knew it," she continued in a prouder, softer voice. "Black Sun, I'm stupid to forget."
"You'd do better to forget, I assure you."
"I don't see why. He's been very helpful to the Republic Confederacy now and then. I think I heard a senator say he even has a special place in his heart for us once."
"There's little room in Xizor's heart for anyone but Xizor."
This harsh, rather bold comment of his did attract her attention, and she looked at him curiously. With a great sort of effort he drew his eyes up from his plate and returned the look with a cold sort of warning.
"I wouldn't trust him, if I were in charge of the Republic Confederacy. I don't even trust him as in charge of the Empire."
It was somewhat surprising to hear him speak like that, and it almost confused her. Up until that moment, he'd been all smiles and gaiety, and didn't seem able to pick sides or offend anyone. He was too political for that. But such an outright statement reminded her that the flower face he showed her housed a snake beneath. She would be on watch…
"Then why," she whispered sweetly, leaning one elbow on the table, "is he the third most powerful man in the galaxy?"
"Because, my dear," he replied, leaning in with a sparkle in his eyes as if they were sharing some matrimonial secret. "He's been very helpful to the Empire now and then as well."
The words sent a cold feeling down her spine, and she didn't much want to eat anymore. But one man playing both sides of the fence seemed hardly a suitable reason to ruin a wedding, and when the dinner was finished, Luke took her hand to lead her to the dance floor.
By then, of course, her lips had formed something of a frown, and he leaned in, whispering, "Hey, what's with the face? Look bright, smile!" She looked up at him, blinking, and the deceitful game he was implying caught hold of her. With an understanding flash in her green eyes, she broke out into a grin, and even more pictures were being taken with the youthful look of happiness about them. It didn't matter that nothing could be further from the truth, it was easy to pretend.
"I think I can guess this somber mood of yours," he said genially as they moved in tempo to the music.
"I'm sure you can't."
"You're wishing your Master was here."
That did make a knot in her stomach suddenly spring up and grow cold. She'd been able to keep Obi-Wan out of her thoughts most of the evening, and to suddenly have them spring up on her like that…
She wouldn't see him or any of the people she'd grown up with for the next three months. She would be away from home, which wasn't anything special, she'd done missions far away before. But usually she knew she could return to a little changed Alderaan or even went with her master. But here she was, dressed up as something she never thought she should be, and knowing full well things would be irreparably different once she got back.
But it would help the people, which is why she did it. And he had said he'd wanted the war to be over….Of course, that didn't necessarily mean he cared about lost lives, wars were expensive. He probably just didn't feel like draining the pocket book of the Empire anymore.
Just as well. The Republic Confederacy would never have lost or given up. She knew this with her whole heart.
"If it makes any difference," he was continuing, "before you decide to extract any vengeance on me, I would like to point out that I did invite him. He declined to come."
That made more sense, then, and while it still hurt, it seemed to hurt less.
"Jedi don't take revenge," she sniffed, sticking her nose in the air for a moment.
"Ah, yes," he replied, "that's right. I guess I'm not up to par on my Jedi Code. Of course, I read once that they don't get married either." They looked each other straight in the eyes now; he seemed amused. She was glaring. "But I think we both know how untrue that is."
"I hope you know I can't stand you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Good, because I'm here to better the Republic Confederacy, and short of killing you – which I might do anyway, if you make it too tempting not to – I'll do whatever it takes to do that."
"Well," he responded dryly, "I'm sure you'll find something to occupy your time then, won't you?"
"Espionage?"
"Something like that."
"I am not a spy."
"No, I know that. That's why I picked you and not a senator. But I don't trust either of you, so don't take it as a compliment."
"You? Compliment me? Believe me, I wouldn't dream it."
"Ha!"
The music gave a brief crescendo before going back into a decrescendo and finishing up. They stopped, gave each other a small bow, and he whispered to her quickly.
"I know you'd much rather do a father of the bride dance with someone more father like to you, but my father seems to be the only plausible option. Unless you prefer Xizor." She glared at him again. "Anyway, you don't have to make conversation, just be polite. Turning on your….classic," he said as politely as possible, "charm is inadvisable from what you've shown me so far."
She wanted to ram something – preferably her lightsaber, which was sitting in her room – down his throat. But the only thing she managed as he walked away was to smile as the Emperor stepped up instead.
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They'd watched the recorded portion of the wedding ceremony from a small holonet server, the four of them crowded around it. Partially because curiosity prompted them to, and partly because they'd promised to make sure it recorded for the ones too busy to go to their own holonet servers or to sit with the others.
But it was almost better that way. It made it a more…intimate occasion, and they liked that fine. They watched the young woman they'd raised since the age of nine walk down the aisle with the boy that…well…
Obi-Wan had retreated away from the screen long before the ceremony was over, and Padmè followed him.
"It seems," she sighed, "a little ridiculous that you refused the rather generous invitation."
"It would have been awkward," he replied, weary, "for everyone concerned. I wouldn't want to put Mara through anything that might make a difficult task more so."
"I think she wouldn't have cared at the difficulty if you'd gone. She just would have been glad you were there."
He laughed, leaned against a pillar. "I know that." It was almost condescending, his voice, and it gave Padmè a sharp reminder that however humanized the Jedi had become, however much she had meddled in Mara's life since she arrived on Alderaan seventeen years ago, they were still Jedi, with their own feelings and expectations; reluctant and otherwise. "But she's a smart girl. She knows I couldn't come."
"And it has nothing to do with Anakin?" she tried to tease, but they both knew she failed, and wished the subject hadn't been breached at all.
"Mostly because of Anakin," he responded gruffly. "Because I love him too much. Force," he turned back to the senator who looked up at him tragically. "I wouldn't go within ten meters of Anakin if I ever had a choice, not even if you paid me an insane amount of credits. But that doesn't mean I'll forgot how he was when he was a boy."
Padmè glanced briefly back at the holo screen, the image of the young man who had aged, gone grey, grown stately. But she didn't think he would have ever been that way if he'd stayed behind. It just didn't seem likely.
"You wouldn't have gone either, I suspect," Obi-Wan was continuing. "You don't want to be near him and you love him too."
Padmè looked down, swallowed, and nodded. "I suppose you're right."
He took her arm gently, and very carefully steered her back toward her husband and daughter. "Let us not think to the past," he comforted. "But to a future we may never fully understand."
