A/N: It's still Sobiweek over on Tumblr. Go check out all the new content if you haven't already!
To guest reviewer Selena: Thank you, glad you liked it :)
Chapter Nine – Handmaiden, Jedi, and In-Laws.
They spent the afternoon in one of the Jedi Temple's large training rooms. It was one of the chambers that outsiders were never usually permitted to see, but Obi-Wan, sharing Sabé's restlessness, allowed her access. They occupied one of the sparring mats alongside pairs of training Padawans.
Sabé had brought her blunted practice swords, and she spent a few moments teaching him basic technique. His abilities with a lightsaber already made him a more than proficient swordsman, but he found setbacks in the unusual weight and balance of the weapon. The lightsaber held all its weight in the handle, whereas the sword's was distributed along its entire length.
Sabé won their first rounds with ease, but once he had grown used to it, which did not take long, he won continuously. Sabé was a good-natured loser, accepting a hand up from the mat when necessary and always bracing herself for the next duel. She was a natural with the sword, her body the right combination of strength and lithe grace to allow for fluid movements. She made up for her petite stature by being quick on her feet, often neatly dancing out of his blade's path with inches to spare.
When they were finished with the swords, he began to show her lightsaber technique with a couple of training sabers fixed at the lowest setting. If touched, the blade delivered a burn that was painful but not harmful.
She rose to the challenge but, like him, she found the differences between the two weapons tricky to get used to. Still, she held up well, managing to hold off his attacks for over a minute before a light hit on the leg had her letting out a very unladylike phrase.
"Tired?" he asked with a smirk.
"Nice try," she retorted. "Let's go again, I think I'm getting the hang of it."
He obliged her with a nod, and raised his saber. She attacked with a series of quick strokes that had him pouring all his effort into his defence, but then he found his feet again, rapidly beating her back. Another hit and curse word later, she was calling for a halt.
"I get the picture," she said, her hair untidy, her face shining with perspiration, lit up with a huge grin. "You're better than I am and to challenge you results in pain. Noted. Let's move on."
He laughed. "You were never going to beat me. I have the Force on my side, remember."
"That's cheating," Sabé declared, hands on hips.
"If it makes it easier for you to accept defeat that way, then yes, I was…cheating."
"Or," she amended thoughtfully, "at the very least you had an unfair advantage."
Obi-Wan smiled. "All right, you have me there."
"So we're even then?" she suggested impishly, eyes wide and innocent.
He retorted with a suspicious frown, not buying it. "Well, I wouldn't quite put it–"
"Great!" Sabé interrupted, tone overly bright. "We're even."
"You're infuriating," he told her lightly.
She shot him a grin. "I know."
When it became clear that sparring was over for the day, they packed up and headed back to the apartment. There was no sign of the spies that Sabé's parents had sent after her, but Obi-Wan knew better than to assume that they were not around. He hoped that after they visited Naboo and spoke to the Simmonites in person, the two scouts would be dismissed.
Settled in the apartment that was not quite home yet, they shared dinner and light conversation before retreating to the single sofa for the evening, where their talk turned to more serious matters.
"Have you given any thought to when you want to go back to Naboo?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Not really. I think I prefer the idea of talking to my parents over talking to Daedrin, so I guess as soon as possible. Then I can avoid him for a few more days."
"You can't avoid him forever."
"No, I know that." Her lips quirked in a smile. "But I can try."
He gave a brief chuckle.
"I think in a day or two," she went on in a more serious tone. "Or even tomorrow, if you want."
Obi-Wan nodded. "How did you get here?" he asked.
"One of the royal starfighters. I'll need to return it, so if you could lay your hands on a two-seater fighter for the journey back, that would be useful."
"I'll see what I can do. Shall we say the day after tomorrow? I'll need to inform the Council about our plans."
She nodded in agreement "Of course."
They did not return to the topic of the investigation after the dispute in Padmé's apartment. Instead they spent the evening reading or reminiscing about their time stranded on Tatooine.
Obi-Wan knew he had projected an outward appearance of calm acceptance about the entire situation, and on some levels it was a true one. But in order to get there he had battled the same reservations and fears that Sabé herself had no doubt confronted. Although she had not mentioned her troubles, he could almost read her every thought as it danced across her face. In the space of a day he had seen distress, relief, gratitude, concern, apprehension, shock, passion and stubbornness, each one taking its turn to shape her striking features. He knew she had no idea that she was such an open book to him, and he intended to keep it that way. She would be embarrassed to find out how well he could read her.
It had not always been the case. When they had first met, her face and character were hidden behind the royal mask of Queen of Naboo, a mask that, he was later to discover, was not hers. She had worn it well, had almost fooled them all. But he was a Jedi, not to mention the fact that he had had too much time on his hands and too much curiosity about her for his own good. It hadn't taken him long to find the woman underneath the face paint, and to learn that she was as human as her subjects. Then when she and Padmé had begun switching places again, it became obvious to him which was the queen and which the handmaiden.
Sabé, although practically flawless in her portrayal of Padmé, could never be anything other than herself for long. Once he had become aware that there were two queens, Obi-Wan had begun to notice the differences between them. They had both conducted themselves with regal dignity in the face of their homeworld's trouble, yet while Padmé had committed herself fully to the etiquette, Sabé had not been able to disguise the fiery glint of her anger. It had been nothing but a certain sparkle in her dark eyes, but it had been enough for him to notice. It had been at that moment that he had become aware that his witty companion was the decoy and not the monarch.
It was not until after the battle, when she had been his silent support after the death of Qui-Gon, that he had thought to ask her name. She had given it in exchange for a promise of letters, a request that he had granted with pleasure. Thinking back to that time, he had never imagined that their friendship would have led them to a marriage of convenience. Being a Jedi, he had, of course, never imagined that he would have married at all. Possession and attachment were the two dangers always lurking to prevent such an arrangement. They were demons that Ki-Adi-Mundi was constantly fighting to allow him to keep his family. Possession was the easier to contend with, since control of that kind was not healthy in any relationship. But attachment was a slippery slope, subtle in its tendency to slowly develop within a heart so that it escaped notice until the damage was done.
He was still unsure how Mundi managed it. Once or twice he considered that he might not have managed it at all, and that he had somehow found a way to balance the two. Such thoughts were not permitted, of course, and attachment continued to be seen as a starting point for weakness and vulnerability. Obi-Wan didn't agree with it, but he admitted that he had no basis for argument. He didn't have any significant attachments, only his friendships with Anakin, Sabé and his fellow Jedi. So he had no cause to say whether or not it was possible to remain attached and dedicated at the same time.
The Code was vague on the subject of friendships, especially within the Order. It encouraged unity and camaraderie between the Jedi Knights, but neatly glossed over the topic of attachment. Obi-Wan had long been of the opinion that the Code was too archaic, too open to misinterpretation to be followed so literally and with the unquestionable obedience that Padawans and Masters alike were expected to show. It had been written in a different age, and while he agreed that they should not lose sight of their ideals, he could see that if they didn't move with the times it would be easy for them to get left behind.
He was far too aware of the controversy to raise the subject himself. Fortunately, he had the foresight and patience to wait and find others of a like mind before he brought the topic before the Council.
He gave a sigh and Sabé looked up from her data pad. Sabé. His wife. He still couldn't get used to that idea.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concern. "You're just staring into space."
"I was thinking," he corrected.
"Careful. Don't do yourself an injury."
He sent her a mock glare and she laughed, her face relaxed and bright with her mirth. Unbidden, the memory of her in his arms, her eyes dark with the intensity of their discovered passion, shot through his mind like a pod racer. He blinked in surprise and the image vanished. It was not the Jedi way to dwell on past events, and he was taken aback to find himself doing so.
Sabé didn't seem to notice anything amiss, continuing to watch him with a calm, level gaze.
"I'm fine," he told her.
"Sure?" she asked with unexpected perception.
"Yes. Don't worry."
She did not look convinced, but gave him a nod and an understanding smile. He smiled back, appreciative of her ability to know when not to push for answers. He couldn't help but briefly wonder just how empty and cold his bed would feel without her.
If this is how I react after one night then it's better for us both that we thought to keep it a one-off occurrence, he told himself.
He wasn't entirely sure that it had been a wise move in the first place. It certainly hadn't been on his mind when Sabé had asked for his help, nor had it played a part in swaying his decision.
His immediate reaction to most situations was to help in any way he was able. Sabé's heartfelt plea and obvious distress had spoken to his compassionate nature, not to mention what he knew of Daedrin. But her cry for help had demanded he give more of himself than usual, and it had needed careful thought before he had agreed. He knew that he had kept her waiting for an answer, but he hadn't wanted to do her an injustice by replying before he was sure.
After consideration, he had realised how little the new arrangement would affect his life. The only change would be that he would spend more time in Sabé's company, and that was by no means unwelcome. In the eleven years of their correspondence, they had only been able to meet in person a handful of times. He knew her well, yet in some ways he didn't know her at all. He had wondered if the marriage would serve to strengthen the ties of their friendship. The Force always gave him an indication of which people he needed in his life, and Sabé was one of them. With that in mind, and the knowledge that he would be able to keep her safe, he had agreed. As soon as the words had been spoken, he had felt a ripple of comforting assurance from the Force that had told him he had made the right decision.
He did not expect to find himself so caught up in her. He had seen in her eyes that she did not expect it either. They had both been drawn into the tidal wave of sensation, feeling and instinct, so uncommon and thrilling in its novelty. It had gone against everything he had ever been taught, even the Code itself. There is no passion, there is serenity. But to him it had been both, it had felt right. And that confused him immeasurably. He had been taught to follow the Code and to listen to his instincts, but those two instructions had never opposed each other as they did where Sabé was concerned. He wondered what it meant, whether it meant anything at all, and if it would turn out to be a mistake or some kind of providence.
At least there wouldn't be the same fear of additional complications that had occurred with Satine. Sabé had firmly assured him that her contraceptive implant was well-maintained and functioning. That would have been difficult to explain to the Council.
He glanced at the data pad in his hand, accepting that he wouldn't be looking at it at any point that evening. He leaned forward and placed it on the low table that Sabé had propped her feet on, then stood.
"I think I'll retire," he announced.
Sabé quirked an eyebrow and nodded. "It is getting on for midnight," she said in apparent agreement, lifting her feet off the table and standing, her motion precise and elegant.
They stood in silence for a while, both uncomfortable in the midst of the first moment of awkwardness they had experienced.
Sabé pointed a finger in the vague direction of her room. "I should…"
Obi-Wan hastily gestured her forward. "Of course. Good night."
"Good night."
She faltered a little, seemingly unable to decide if she was supposed to hug him, kiss his cheek or do nothing. Eventually she settled on a smile, then practically ran to her door. Obi-Wan watched her departing back, raising a hand to his chin as he reflected on the unease of their parting, hoping it was not an omen of how things would be between them now.
Putting it out of his mind, he prepared for bed and settled down to sleep, slipping into a light meditation to coax his body into rest. The bed did seem awfully large for one person alone.
Opening his eyes to allow himself a glare into the darkness, he chided himself for his foolishness and once more attempted to quieten his thoughts.
Unbeknownst to him, on the other side of the wall, Sabé was doing the same.
The following day, Sabé spent her time lying low in the apartment, thoroughly bored but aware of the foolhardiness of leaving. The Council meeting took Obi-Wan away from her for half the day, and when he returned he was bearing a message written on flimsi.
"Handed to me by a young lady called Teckla," he told her.
Sabé nodded. "She's a handmaiden of Padmé's."
"Another Order member?"
"No. But Moteé is. I hope she's been warned of the danger she might be in." Unfolding the note, she skimmed it quickly, translating Padmé's vague message with ease. "Daedrin is looking for me," she reported.
Obi-Wan seemed unsurprised. "We knew he would."
"Yes." She felt utterly fed up at the news, however predictable it was.
"The Council have given me use of a starfighter for the journey tomorrow," Obi-Wan told her, "so we can leave whenever you're ready."
"Let's not leave it too late," Sabé said after some consideration. "I think… Well, even with the trouble they've caused, I wouldn't want to worry my parents. They must have heard that I've gone missing by now."
He nodded his understanding.
Struck by a stab of bitterness, she added, "Gods know why I'm considering their feelings since they don't seem to care for mine, but there you go."
Obi-Wan said nothing, but sent her the kind of smile that implied he was sympathetic to how she was feeling.
The following morning, they departed as soon as they were both up and dressed. Sabé carried a single bag containing a gown and accessories. Her mother was an old-fashioned woman, who preferred to see her daughter in the dresses befitting her rank rather than a jumpsuit and boots. Sabé always chose outfits in Luma's favourite styles and colours when she had something particularly unpleasant to tell her.
They docked their ships in the palace hangar, then headed to Sabé's suite so that she could change. When she was tidier, they took a slow walk to Jago and Luma's apartment, a walk that seemed to get more painstaking the further they went.
"Is it my imagination," Ob-Wan said, breaking the companionable silence, "or are you moving slower?"
"It's your imagination," Sabé said firmly, pausing to tip a fictitious pebble out of her shoe.
"I see. I never would have thought it possible."
"What?"
"That the Lady Sabé, who has stood up to the droid armies of the Trade Federation, would show more fear at the prospect of seeing her own parents than she did in the face of battle."
Not able to think of a witty retort, Sabé settled for a huff and folded her arms, sending the long, sweeping sleeves of her gown flapping. He was right, of course, and knew it, judging by the smirk he was failing to hide. Irked by his perception and his amusement at her behaviour, Sabé quickened her pace. She was acting like a child, she knew that. Unpleasant scenes with her parents tended to bring it out in her.
In a time far too short for Sabé's liking, they reached the apartment. The Simmonite protocol droid, D8-420, answered the door.
"Miss Simmonite, how lovely to see you back," the droid said, its female voice programmed to have the familiar gushing tones heard so often from protocol droids.
"Thank you," Sabé replied. "I'm here to see my parents."
"Oh. I was not aware they were expecting you."
"They're not. Are they here?"
"Of course. They're in the lounge. I'll take you through."
They followed the droid through the bright, white-painted corridors to the lounge, a large yet comfortable room, with windows overlooking the pristine garden. Jago and Luma were seated on one of the curved sofas, sharing a pot of tea and softly spoken conversation.
"Master Jago, Mistress Luma, Miss Syrena is here to see you," D8-420 announced.
Both of them leapt to their feet at once, their faces etched with a mixture of concern and relief. Sabé stepped back a fraction to stand at Obi-Wan's side, trying to put forward the notion that he was not a bodyguard. She knew well that her parents would almost consider him a servant if they thought him appointed to her by the Council.
"Syrena!" Luma cried, hurrying over to clasp her daughter's hand.
Jago swiftly followed. "Are you all right?"
A little taken aback by their greeting, Sabé nodded, smiling at them both in what she hoped was a reassuring way. She wasn't sure how else to react. "I'm fine," she told them.
"Where have you been?" Luma asked sharply, always the first to jump directly to the point. Her anxiety apparently appeased, she was back on usual form. "You left here in such a rush, and then vanished almost as soon as you got to Coruscant."
Sabé grimaced, unable to decide whether her mother was brazenly barefaced about her spies or if she had simply been careless with her speech. Her guilt at causing her parents to worry suddenly dispersed.
"Well, you would know," she said placidly, her words revealing the barest hint of her anger. "Send spies after me again, Mother, and then watch how fast I disappear."
Her parents had the grace to look sheepish.
"We worry about you," Jago said, his tone unapologetic.
"Worry? That wasn't worry," Sabé retorted hotly. "That was controlling. That was making sure I met Senator Daedrin as you planned."
She felt the lightest of touches to the back of her arm. Instantly grounded, she fought to quieten her temper.
"Why couldn't you just take my word for it?" she asked in a softer tone. "I did as I said I would."
"The main thing is you're safe," Luma cut in, making a blatant attempt to smooth things over. Turning, she unceremoniously thrust the teacups at D8-420 and ordered refreshments.
"Please tell us what you've been doing to necessitate a Jedi protector," Jago said, his stern brow wrinkled in a frown, his words shattering Sabé's intentions of making Obi-Wan appear as an equal. "I take it my daughter is safe with you, Jedi…?"
"Master Obi-Wan Kenobi," Obi-Wan offered with a respectful bow. "Sabé is highly capable, but yes, she is always safe with me."
"Could I have my hand back, do you think?" Sabé asked her mother.
Luma glanced down and released the hand in question. "Oh. Sorry, dear." And then, quick as a flash, she reached for it again. "What's this?" She held up Sabé's hand, where the plain silver wedding band shone.
"Ah…" Sabé muttered with a sinking heart. That was not how she had intended to raise the topic. "That? That's what I came to talk to you about. I'm…married."
"Well, this is wonderful!" Luma beamed.
Sabé looked at her in open confusion. "It is?"
"Of course! You've saved us all the trouble of planning a wedding, not to mention the expense." Luma was not the sort of woman to lament missing her big moment as mother of the bride.
Jago placed his hands on his wife's shoulders, one of the rare, affectionate gestures that reminded Sabé that her parents' union was not entirely a convenient one.
"Why did you not bring your husband with you?" he asked, his expression warm.
"I did," Sabé said edgily. Behind her, she heard Obi-Wan let out an almost-silent, weary sigh. Like her, he could see that the conversation was hurtling towards a messier conclusion than they'd planned.
Luma glanced around, as if expecting Senator Daedrin to burst out of a cupboard bearing a banner reading 'surprise'.
"Senator Daedrin is here?"
"No," Sabé answered, keeping her voice calm and level. "Senator Daedrin is on Coruscant. I hope. I have…married Obi-Wan."
There was crushing silence for a horrible, awkward moment, and then, unexpectedly, a snigger from Luma.
"Don't be absurd. Jedi aren't allowed to marry."
"We obtained a dispensation from the Council," Sabé explained.
"They would never have granted it, not for something like this," her mother laughed.
"If this is an attempt to get out of marrying Senator Daedrin, you haven't really thought it through," Jago put in, fixing his daughter with a severe, hard look.
Riled by their reactions, Sabé felt her palms grow hot as she clenched her fists. She was comforted by Obi-Wan's steady presence at her side. They had both agreed beforehand that she should do most of the talking, but his stillness was almost as reassuring as his words. His expression was carefully guarded, but he seemed unsurprised at Jago and Luma's response.
Wordlessly, Sabé drew a folded piece of flimsi from her pocket. Luma snatched it and read it, Jago peering over her shoulder.
"I'm not sorry," Sabé murmured, as they both stared at her in shock. "I won't be used in your plans. I know you thought Daedrin would be a suitable match for me, but I disagree."
Luma glanced again at the marriage certificate in her hand. "And how exactly is a Jedi a better match for you?" she asked coldly. "He has no money, not even any possessions to speak of, nothing to bring to the marriage."
Obi-Wan raised a single eyebrow at the barefaced statement, but kept his silence.
"Ugh, you've never understood! I don't care, Mother," Sabé said heatedly. "It's not about that. At all. I earn enough to keep myself. And besides, Obi-Wan brings protection, companionship and honour to the marriage, which is far more important to me than wealth."
"So you're not in love then?" Jago asked. "This isn't some runaway marriage?"
Sabé shook her head. "No. We're old friends. Obi-Wan fought with me in the Battle of Naboo eleven years ago."
A flicker of recognition and grudging respect lit Jago's grey eyes. Luma, however, still looked stony.
"How did you get the Jedi Council to grant you a dispensation?" she asked. "They don't just hand them out on a whim."
Sabé glanced at Obi-Wan, unsure how much she was permitted to reveal.
"I'm afraid we can't say," he spoke up. "But it was decided with Sabé's safety in mind."
"That's extremely convenient," Luma pointed out.
"Perhaps so," Sabé agreed, "but it also happens to be true."
Silence hung again, as weighty and prominent as if there was another person present. Then D8-420 bustled in with a tray, breaking the tension. The droid began busying itself with sorting cups, but quickly exited when Luma gave a short, snapped order. Nobody moved to help themselves to tea.
"So," Jago said at length, "to recap, you've deliberately gone against our wishes and married yourself to this Jedi."
"I have."
Jago gave a deep sigh, looking, for a moment, every one of his fifty-nine years. "Well, my dear, I only hope that this plan does not backfire on you."
Sabé nodded mutely, unsure what to say to a comment she was not anticipating. "I don't expect it to," she said eventually.
"No one ever does."
"And what about Senator Daedrin?" Luma asked.
Sabé glanced at her mother, a small smile playing about her lips as she made a rapid decision. "Oh. I leave it to you to explain the situation to him."
As one, her parents and Obi-Wan turned to stare at her.
"I'm sorry, you're doing what?" Luma exclaimed. "You can't possibly…"
Sabé held up a hand, cutting her off. "You can talk to him, Mother, I have no wish to. You started this, you can finish it."
Her mother pressed her lips together in a thin line of disapproval before saying, "He deserves to hear it from you."
"He deserves nothing of the sort," Sabé scoffed. "He never proposed to me, therefore I have nothing to refuse. This whole state of affairs is your doing."
Her parents exchanged a glance, and Jago shrugged his shoulders.
"Technically, she's right," he said, his tone heavily laced with reluctance.
"You won't avoid a confrontation this way," Obi-Wan told her.
"I know that. That's not the point." She shot him a warning look, communicating her desire not to be lectured to.
"All right," Jago spoke up, "we'll talk to him. But you should too."
Sabé gave a humourless laugh. "I doubt I'll have a choice in the matter. If you'll excuse us now, Obi-Wan and I have things we need to do."
"Syrena," Jago said gently, searching her face, "is this really what you want?"
Sabé met his gaze boldly. "No, Father. It's not what I want, nor what Obi-Wan wants. But what choice did you leave me?"
A/N: I credit working in pharmacy for giving me good droid names.
