"Ami, you like?"

Padmé took what had to be the twentieth glass of wine offered to her and sipped it. And, as with every one of the twenty glasses she had already tasted, her eyes widened at the flavor. "Master, you must taste this."

And just like every other of the twenty glasses, he obliged her. "It is good," he acknowledged. "But then, they all are."

The keepers beamed at them. They were at their last stop, the wine country, and the people had been eager to offer her their best.

Now, just the slightest bit tipsy and full of the delicious dinner that had been served them, the two lounged with the villagers in the large hall.

Of all of the provinces, with their different ways and traditions, this was the most different. Instead of the typical villages situated throughout the province, the Wine country had half a dozen large mansions, where all of the people lived and worked together. Each one consisted of the vineyard patriarch, his wife, his sons and their wives, their sons and their wives, and so on. Though, being as old as they were, none of the original vinedressers were still alive, and the houses were governed by their sons and grandsons.

They had arrived only a half hour before those working in the vineyard had come in, and had been able to see the genial comeradery shared by the people. While the other Ehren were tolerably friendly to one another, it was easy to see these were a family.

"You like, Ami?"

She was just about to taste her twenty-first glass when the Master pulled it away from her lips. "I think that's enough for tonight."

Padmé pouted, reaching for the glass. "Just this one."

"No, pet. You're already drunk enough."

"Am not!" She squeaked indignantly. "I am no light weight."

He gave her the familiar amused smile. "I never said you were, but even a Jedi would be tipsy after thirty glasses of wine."

She scrunched up her eyebrows. Had it been thirty? "I only took sips."

"Thirty sips, which is equivalent to approximately six glasses." He shook his head, handing the glass back to the vinedresser. "No more."

She reached for her other glass. "Stingy."

He chuckled, pulling her into his lap and gently prying her fingers off of the glass. "You just won't listen, will you?"

"I don't want to offend them," she muttered, eyeing the ruby liquid just out of her reach. "They want to know what I think."

"Not if it means getting you drunk," he replied, burying his face in her curls as he often did whenever they were in this position. "Don't worry, you'll thank me in the morning."

She squirmed into a more comfortable position on his lap, rolling onto her stomach so she could see him. Then, she gave him the best puppy dog eyes she could muster.

He swore softly. "Pet, don't… kriff, stop looking at me like that." He was caving, and she could see it. "Padmé, please."

"Just one glass?"

To his credit, he tried to turn away from her, but she pulled his own trick on him, bringing her fingers up to trace his lips. "I'll give you a taste."

He shuddered softly, caving to her touch. "Temptress," he retorted, his voice hoarse. "Didn't I tell you not to play with fire?"

The slow, familiar burn was back, and for the umpteenth time since she had met him, Padmé was ready to give herself to the unrelenting fire set by his words. Perhaps it was the wine, or the fact that the villagers had surreptitiously deserted them, or that she was straddling him, or perhaps it was his wine stained lips that seemed even more full than usual, or that he had been teasing her unrelentingly for the past few weeks, or maybe it was a combination of all of those things.

Whatever it was, she was tired of the games; tired of the teasing; tired of lying in bed alone at night, a bundle of need and desire. Tired of the torture.

Silencing the voices in her head that told her that this was a bad idea, that she didn't even know him, that she and Satine would be going home in only a few weeks, Padmé leaned over and kissed him.

He responded almost immediately, the kiss slow and lazy. His hands burrowed into her hair as he sagged back, pulling her up with him.

When he slowly pulled away, disappointment coursed through her. Then, he was back again, his lips impossibly soft as they melded with hers in a chaos of passion. She moaned as he coaxed her mouth open, deepening the kiss and sending her into an even deeper spiral of desire.

If she had thought that she wanted him before, the need had multiplied. She whimpered as one of his hands slid down her bare back, setting the skin on fire. The leather glove settled on her side, his thumb gently stroking maddeningly near her breast.

He dragged his mouth away from hers, latching onto her neck before she could bemoan the loss. Padmé sent up a prayer to the seven goddesses and the Force that he wouldn't stop.

Her plaintive moans grew when he suckled at her pulse point, driving her to delirium.

Then, he stiffened, growling softly. "We have to go."

To the bedroom? Absolutely.

"No, pet, not tonight," he whispered, as if sensing her line of thoughts.

In one motion, he was standing and she was in his arms. Even in her lust induced haze, Padmé could see that something was wrong. "What is it?"

"Someone's here. You didn't hear them?"

"No. I was…" she nuzzled into his neck. "Preoccupied."

He groaned. "Kriff, Padmé."

The door flew open, and a girl rushed in. "Master, Soka say come, come quick. Something bad happened at the Capital."

Padmé gasped when she saw her.

The Duchess was lying on the clinic bed, her skin an unhealthy ashen hue. Her breathing was shallow, and her already slender figure had diminished until Padmé could see the bones in her arms and hands.

In the doorway, Soka was crying. "She wouldn't eat… I tried to get her to, but she wouldn't, Master, I'm so sorry…"

"Bring him."

Padmé glanced at him, not understanding. But he didn't look at her, instead turning back to Soka again. "Bring him now, Soka!"

"But…"

He swore, pushing past the girl. "I'll get him myself."

The togruta followed him, and Padmé took her friend's hand, tears welling up in her eyes as she felt how thin it was. Guilt flooded her as she remembered how she hadn't truly insisted on bringing Satine with her. How she had purposefully delayed their return to get more time to spend with the Master. How she…

The duchess's eyes fluttered open, the usually vibrant blue now almost grey. "Padmé?"

She tightened her grip on her hand. "Satine?"

But Satine's eyes drifted over her shoulder and brightened. She struggled to sit up. "Obi."

Padmé froze as a voice she thought she would never hear again filled the small room. "Hello, love."

"No, you can't be… you're dead." The duchess's face crumpled and she sagged back.

"Our apologies, Your Grace," Soka said. "We didn't learn that Master Kenobi was alive until you had been here for a few days. Even then, we were doubtful he would survive for awhile, due to the injuries sustained. Master thought it would be wiser to make sure he recovered before informing you, just in case something went wrong."

Obi-Wan sat on the edge of the mattress, frowned. "You said they knew I was alive."

The togruta shifted uncomfortably. "We didn't want to impede your recovery. Master was intending to inform the Duchess and Senator of your existence as soon as you were fully recovered, but Ami… that is, Padmé, had already promised the people that she would travel to see them. And as he was certain she would want to see you at the same time as the Duchess, he decided to postpone your… er… unveiling, so to speak." She grimaced. "As you can see, though, things didn't go quite as we expected it."

Padmé blinked, still unsure of what was going on. "So… why is Satine sick?"

Soka pinned the Duchess with an accusatory look. "She was fasting for her mourning ritual. Her already weakened body couldn't take it, which I told her. She wouldn't listen to me." She scoffed. "Apparently, it was some fool tradition for her people to spend their last week of mourning starving themselves."

"Foolish woman," Obi-Wan muttered softly, looking fondly at the woman resting in his arms.

The togruta snorted. "I guess that's what love does to you, huh?"

The Master gently tugged on her lekku. "We'd better move along, Snips. Let them talk."

"Wait." Obi-Wan's eyes focused on the Master, his head tilting slightly to the side. "Do I know you?"

The Master froze, his lips parting slightly as his face paled. "Yes," he said slowly, his voice seemingly tighter than usual. "We met a few times, though I doubt you would know me now."

The Jedi's brow furrowed. "I don't understand…"

"It's probably better that way." Crossing the room quickly, he planted a kiss on Padmé's head. "I'll be in my room, when you finish."

She watched in confusion as he stormed out of the room, dragging Soka out behind him.

"What the hell was that?" Obi-Wan demanded. "What did I miss?"

Satine exhaled deeply. "After you… The Master's men found us, brought us here. Apparently, he's been in exile here for nearly half a decade. He says he knew you and Padme, but something…" she bit her lip. "Something happened, and he's been here ever since."

Padmé shot her friend a glare. "I knew you'd been talking to him behind my back! What else did he tell you, the sneaky bastard?"

A light laugh fell from the duchess's lips. "You have no need to be jealous, Padmé. He's utterly infatuated with you. Force, I've never seen a man so lovesick in my life."

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. "I still feel like I'm missing something."

"The Master is a man hopelessly in…"

The door slid open, and Soka stepped in, carrying Obi-Wan's lightsaber, robe, and a familiar wooden box. "Here, duchess. Master said you would want this, and to stop repeating confidential things if you don't want your dirty laundry aired in front of the Senator." Satine frowned. "Oh, and he said Master Kenobi might be interested in the box."

Padmé herself was very much interested in the box, which had seemed to disappear after that night. What she was more interested in, though, was what Satine had been about to say before the girl came in. "Thank you, Soka. Please inform Acca that she may return to the village, for I will not be occupying my room tonight. Oh, and tell the Master I might be a little late coming to him." She turned back to her friends. "I think we have quite a bit of catching up to do."

0bi-Wan listened in silence as Satine and Padmé related the events that had occured since the crash, and Padmé tell of their trip.

By the time she had finished, Satine looked disappointed. "Are you telling me that after all that, he ignored you for the whole trip?"

Padmé squirmed. "He's not a very talkative person."

"Not very…" Satine's eyes narrowed. "Padmé, did you sleep with him?"

Her face went crimson. "No."

He raised an eyebrow at the disappointment in her voice. "But you wanted to?"

She groaned. "I am not talking to you about this, Mister 'Master of Celibacy'."

"Satine's no better," he defended. "And you're someone to talk. You have virgin written all across you."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "For one, Satine is a woman experienced in the art of love making. You, on the other hand, are just as much of a virgin as I. Force knows you're too prudish to even kiss a girl, let alone do a horizontal tango with one."

Satine choked on her water, and he rubbed her back as she hacked it out of her system. "I don't think our Obi is as innocent as that," she said hoarsely.

"Oh, yes he is. Ani told me so. He's an incorrigible flirt, but he'd no sooner take a woman to bed than shave that force-forsaken beard off."

He chuckled softly. "That's where he was wrong. I've had my fair number of women, I'm sure. I simply was more discreet than many of the others."

Satine pulled away from him slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Indeed? Exactly how many, pray tell?"

"One, actually."

Padmé laughed. "A philanderer in all of his vain glory," she teased. "May we know who it was?"

Satine stiffened, then relaxed when he replied easily, "I'd rather not spoil the girl's reputation."

"So I know her, then?" The Senator's eyes sparkled. "Sabe, then. She always had a thing for you."

He snorted. "All of your handmaidens seemed to have had 'a thing' for me, as you so elegantly put it." He shifted so his back was against the wall, adjusting Satine accordingly. "As you did yourself, if I remember correctly."

Her cheeks reddened. "I was fourteen. Any girl would have had a crush on you."

"Satine did, I know." He smiled as she gave him a warning look. "She tried her best not to show it, but I do believe that she was utterly…"

"So you didn't have amorous congress, though you wanted to," Satine said, quickly changing the subject. "What did you do, then? From what you've said, I would think you simply rode from village to village, talked to the people, and slept in different rooms. Yet, you're frustrated that you didn't ever get in bed together."

Padmé shifted. "That's the gist of it, yes."

Satine's eyes narrowed. "Then what happened before he left… the kiss, the 'meet me in my room', etc., etc.… had absolutely nothing to do with the past two weeks."

She blushed. "I… we… I wasn't lying about the sleeping arrangements. I asked him to stay with me one night, and he refused. I don't know why he changed his mind now." She winced. "I may have left out that he seems to enjoy seducing me, though he never wants to follow through on his actions or words."

"What do you mean?" Satine asked in interest.

"He would… touch me… and say what he would want to do with me in bed," she admitted, her cheeks red. "But then he would send me to bed as if I was a child, and leave."

Obi-Wan frowned. "He had no right to violate you like that. You should stay away from him, Padmé, before he does decide to take you to bed and ruins you."

"But what if I want him to?"

He shook his head. "You don't know what you're saying. What would Anakin…"

She jumped to her feet. "Don't, Obi-Wan. He's gone." Her eyes filled. "He's gone, Obi-Wan, and he's not coming back. Yes, I loved him, and I took pleasure in the fact that he loved me. Somewhere, deep inside, I still love him. I don't think I'll ever stop loving him, but I'm not going to spend the rest of my life living in the past. Anakin may be dead, but I'm not, and I don't want to forever regret that I never got a chance to experience that something more."

Keri panted hard as he ran into the village. Behind him, his companions called his name, likely curious over his sudden departure. He wanted to pause, to show them the small, cylindrical metal object he had found. But the Master's orders had been clear.

His lungs burned as he nearly slipped on the gravel streets of the village. From all sides, people were calling out to him, asking what was causing him to behave like a mad tonglu. He ignored them, sharpening his focus on the tall tower like building in the center of the village.

Finally, he was at the door, and he pounded on the wooden barrier, gasping for breath. Footsteps sounded inside the communication tower, and the door opened.

Trada blinked up at him, her eyes wide in wonder. "Keri, what is it?"

"Speak… Master… urgent," he managed to gasp out, eyeing the comm unit in it's designated spot. "Ami… wreck… not an accident…"

Sorry for the short chapter, but I had to cut it off here. Hope you enjoyed!

Shoutouts to Elroon, caripr94, taleoftwoherondales, and lxghtsxbers for follows!

sunmoonwindandstars: hahaha, I loved your review! I don't know if I answered any of your questions, though…

JoieMaris: Good insight, I'm glad you caught that.

Rambling anOn: Aah, you're back! You're close on the Palpatine theory.

MumsieDo: Is it just me or is everyone extremely angry at poor ole Palps? As usual, I hope I answered some of your questions, though I think most will have to wait until the next chapter *hint, hint*.

A/N: Updates might be a little slow, as I've taken a summer job and it's taking up quite a bit of my time. I will continue to try my best to have weekly uploads, though, but be patient with me.

Trivia: The trio were originally stranded on Ehren because of a snowstorm.