And All Points North
The shifts of Fortune test the reliability of friends. -
Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC)
Chapter 6
I never say good bye, Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan lay in Ena's luxurious double bed, alone. Ena was long gone - as was typical in their fashion, she had left him while he'd slept. Not that it mattered. They would meet again soon enough, if it was the will of the Force.
Obi-Wan stretched out his legs, allowing himself to indulge in the comfortable exorbitance a little. He would use the fresher before returning to the Temple, but at this moment he wanted this time just to think.
If Anakin had taken the Senator as a lover - did it really matter?
Anakin had always been so uncommunicative about such things. Even though fraternization was generally frowned upon, it wasn't unknown for Padawans to – experiment – with one another. Obi-Wan himself had known the pleasures of intimacy long before his own Knighthood. Perhaps in this, as in many of the social intricacies of the Jedi Order, it had taken Anakin a bit longer to find his feet. He would rather Anakin's experimentation had taken place with one of his fellow Padawans – at least they understood, and were more likely to refrain from the attachment issue – but for now, he would let it go. There were far more important things to worry about - the impending war being the chief among them – and his apprentice's well being.
His clothes lay neatly on the dresser, just where Ena had told them they would be, and Obi-Wan began to feel restless. The lure of the fresher almost became a siren's song now that his mind was eased a little; suddenly he wanted to get back to the Temple, and to his Padawan.
Slowly and painfully, with Schurke leaning heavily on Kampher's arm, they made their fourth journey up and down the passageway of the Healers ward.
"How do you feel, Schurke?" Kam asked softly. "Can you make another trip or do you need to go back to your bed?"
Schurke grimaced once, and then grinned broadly. "Race you Kam... last on in gets to be on top!"
Kampher rolled her eyes. "Schurke Canaille, if I waited for you to make it over there alone I'd be an old maiden by the time you got there! Now, I'll take that as a 'yes' even if I have to drag you along by your Padawan braid!"
"Can we stop by Toboo's bed, Kam?" Schurke asked suddenly, all playfulness gone now. "I want to see if that pitten is awake yet."
At the mention of Anakin's nickname Kampher tensed, but quickly tried to cover it up. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough and Schurke called her on it.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. I'll tell you in a little while," Kam murmured. Suddenly she brightened. "We won't need to go by his bed after all! Look!"
Down at the far end of the passageway, dressed in a Healer's robe with his new arm resting in a sling, was Anakin. Walking beside him and resting easily on his good arm was Senator Amidala. She was dressed more simply than either Kam or Schurke had expected a Senator to be, wearing a simple white shift, with her hair loosely tied behind. They were standing close together, apparently too engaged in conversation to notice anyone else until Schurke put his free hand to his mouth and made a loud but vulgar noise on his hand.
All three looked up at him; Anakin with amusement, Kampher and Amidala with a mixture of mild distain and indignant laughter.
"By the gods!" Shurke cried out joyfully, lurching towards his friend. "Either someone has let gaseous Banthas loose in the Healer's ward or else Anakin Skywalker – also known as the farting menace – is back among the living!"
Anakin gently pulled away from Padmé - who was blushing and giggling furiously despite herself - and took his friend into a rough, one armed embrace.
"Farting menace?" Padmé repeated carefully as if she wasn't exactly sure of what she'd heard.
Schurke pushed Anakin's head under his robes and into a headlock while Kampher stood back, shaking her head.
Ignoring Anakin's grunts of mock frustration and protest, Schurke explained. "We were on a training mission, overnight on Ealor – Toboo here must have overindulged in the Alderaani cabbage the night before..."
"Let me go, you hairy veermok!" Anakin growled from under Schurke's robe. "Or I swear! One night you'll find my Lightsaber jammed so far up your ass that your Master will be able to use you as a glow lamp!"
"Stop it, you two Banthas!" Kampher admonished them gently. "You'll hurt yourselves and I'll be stuck with you until the end of the Republic! Schurke, let Anakin go now..."
"Toboo?" Padmé asked in the polite tone of someone who doesn't understand the joke. "Isn't that Gungan for...for..."
Mortified at the unexpected use of the name, Anakin wrestled himself around, now reversing their positions.
"Youngling, yes." Anakin grumbled, clearly embarrassed.
"Anakin's nick-name, Senator," Kampher began.
"I was very young when we all became friends, Padmé," Anakin interrupted Kampher with an edge to his voice. "Schurke seems to think he's funny."
"Only because without me, our beloved friend would take things all too seriously!" Schurke giggled as he pulled free of Anakin's formidable grip. "Hell, I think Anakin is a pure as a snowstorm on Hoth anyway..."
Padmé gasped and giggled, putting her hand daintily over her mouth. Anakin lunged at Schurke again.
"That's it, Canaille!" he growled, trying unsuccessfully to sound menacing over his own laughter. "Let's see if they can replace your..."
With amazing alacrity, Kampher pushed herself between them.
"All right you two, that's enough posturing for now!" she snapped, more than a little irritated. "It's nearly time for last meal. Senator, would you care to join us?"
"Is that permissible?" Padmé asked hopefully. "I mean, I know it's not normal for outsiders to be allowed into the Temple as it is."
"You are here as my guest, Padmé," Anakin murmured, catching her eye in a silent plea. "No one will question why."
"And your presence seems to have a positive effect on my patient," Kampher added firmly, as if to emphasize the point. "Speaking of which, Anakin, are you in any pain? Do you need something before we go?"
Anakin grimaced, but shook his head. "I'll be all right."
She turned to Schurke, who shook his head. "Maybe after..." he mused, and then seemed to have second thoughts. "Perhaps I could use a hover chair though, Kam, it's a bit of a way to the cantina. Anakin, if you want to meet us there, you and the Senator should go on ahead."
Anakin put his hand onto his friend's shoulder, all the teasing and playfulness replaced by concern. "Should we wait with you?"
Schurke waved him off. "Just get us a good place. I think Kam and I can manage." He cast her an unreadable look and Kampher nodded.
"Go on, we'll be there in a minute."
"I'll get us a quiet corner," Anakin said with a little bow. "As long as you're sure you'll be alright."
"We're sure, Toboo," Schurke assured them. "Hurry then... off you go." He gave Anakin a little nudge with his mechanical leg and Anakin feigned a grab for it. What passed for formalities between them now complete, Anakin and Padmé slowly made their way down the passage way and to the cantina, so close together they may as well have been one.
When they were out of earshot, Schurke leaned over to Kampher and whispered in her ear. "Now, will you tell me what's wrong?"
Kampher thinned her lips. "After supper," she said at last. "I'll tell you everything after supper."
Schurke rested his head on her shoulder. "I'm not letting you off that easily, Kam," he murmured softly. "Will you at least tell me what it's about?"
"Master Yoda spoke to me this morning," Kampher sighed resignedly. "He said that something terrible happened to Anakin... and that Anakin would probably not want to discuss it... at least willingly."
"And...?" Schurke pressed.
"He wanted me to... to take it from him..."
Schurke pulled in a hiss of air in disbelief. "No..." He knew that Kampher was especially deft in dealing with human minds; it was part of the thing that made her a gifted healer, but she hated using it her ability on an unwilling subject. She equated it to a form of mental rape. The idea that the venerable Master had even asked...
"I told him I would not," Kampher said miserably. "But then he told me 'think it over you must, young Healer.' Schurke, I just can't – I won't!"
He wrapped his arms around her, as if to shelter his friend from this terrible predicament. Refusing the request of a Jedi Master was bad enough. To refuse the request of the head of the Council...
"Have you spoken to Anakin about this yet, Kam?"
"Of course not!" Kampher cried softly. "How could I?"
"You're his friend first, Kam... his friend..." Schurke assured her, but Kam shook her head.
"I'm a Jedi, Schurke," she sighed. "A Jedi Healer..."
Schurke pulled her into a tight embrace before releasing her. "We'll both talk to Anakin then," he promised her gently. "After supper – when the Senator has left – after you've done your rounds. It'll be all right Kam, I promise."
"I hope so Schurke," Kampher replied sadly, looking longingly after Anakin and Padmé. "I really hope so. He's been through so much already..."
"And you think there's still more to come don't you Kam," Schurke finished for her. "Not only with the war. It's something else – something elusive – that you're not telling me about."
"I can't, Schurke." Kampher sighed casting her head down. "Not yet anyway..."
Schurke cupped her chin in his hands and brought her face up to meet his own. Slowly and tenderly, he kissed her forehead.
Sometimes words were not enough, nor were they needed.
