Before The Altar.
Before the Altar, bowed, he stands
With empty hands;
Upon it perfumed offerings burn
Wreathing with smoke the sacrificial urn.
Before The Altar by Amy Lowell (1874-1925)
From A Dome of Many Colored Glass.
Part 36: Myself the Sacrifice.
There were two funerals which took place in Theed that day. The first was a short ceremony, no parade, no ritual burying, only words and mourning. For there was no body to cremate or crypt, only a life to remember, to eulogise, to martyr. A sad affair, for the death of one so young was to be pitied, considered a waste of potential. One much regretted by the new Supreme Emperor, who viewed the death with considerable anger, not only in his inability to prevent it, but for the task which it presented him with.
He had come too late to Mustafar, arriving at the sight of Anakin's death to find only the smouldering remains of an artificial arm. The brilliant boy whom he had manipulated from the moment of his birth was no more. Anakin helped him achieve revenge on the Jedi Order, he helped overthrow the Republic, but he was not here now to ensure the survival of the new Empire. The apprentice to whom he could delegate the evil duties to, trusting that he would carry them out to the best of his ability was nothing more than a decomposing burned corpse. Palpatine would have to find a new apprentice now, and train him into the bargain, which would take time he could ill afford. The honour and duty of tyrant would have to be his for the foreseeable future.
Anakin Skywalker's funeral could have taken place on Coruscant or Tatooine, but Naboo requested for the honour to mourn the young Hero with no Fear who had done so much for their planet. Palpatine granted the privilege, attending the ceremony himself, along with crowds of citizens from every walk of life, and almost every planet that Skywalker had visited. The task of delivering the eulogy fell to the Supreme Emperor, who spoke eloquently and powerfully about the life of this young victim of the Jedi Order, whom he had mentored from the moment he encountered him, after his heroic achievements in the relief of the Blockade Crisis. A plaque was placed on the walls of the hanger in Theed Palace, and a monument was erected in the National Memorial gardens, close to the Royal Crypts.
The second funeral was carried out with more fanfare and more people. A stasis coffin contained the body, which was escorted on a gun carriage, towed by Royal Nubian steeds, as befitted the victim's office and station in life. Behind the transparisteel covering said victim appeared composed, peaceful, free of the many burdens and responsibilities upon which so many depended. Infront and at the back a parade of relatives and officials escorted the carriage, their attire purple and black, the weeds of mourning properly observed.
Palpatine was once more a guest of the proceedings, his solemn face concealing a wealth of interesting emotions, which if any Jedi still surviving had dared attended the funeral, would have found most intriguing to analyse. He was saddened and pleased, grieved and relieved, shocked and gleeful. Throughout their life the victim had done many things to both thwart and ensure his eventual succession to Supreme Emperor, earned his respect for possessing superior intellect and skill, as well as a reputation which despite all, would become a legend across his new Empire. If he could have counted on their future loyalty, the victim would have made an helpful ally, had they lived to see the dawn of his crowning achievement.
Like Anakin, the victim could have been buried on Coruscant, but Naboo once more requested for the privilege of their National Memorial Gardens as the location of the body's eternal resting place. Due to this, much of Coruscant's citizens had made the journey to Theed, along with almost the entire Senate, barring those whom Palpatine had chosen to release from office for questioning, on charges of treason. Other citizens from other planets also numbered within the guests, from all walks of life and species. Among the attendants in the solemn procession was a lone astromech droid, who beeped mournfully to itself everytime its optical receptors happened catch sight of the body with the stasis coffin.
Queen Apailana opened the ceremony, her speech an eloquent and powerful hail of all the victim's achievements, in life and in death, their skill and intelligence, the respect they earned throughout the Empire, and lastly, attempted to capture the essence of the grief which all those present carried within them at this loss of life.
"I now give up the stage to the victim's family, who have lost a person that can never be replaced. For the Empire new legends and names will rise, while the old legends endure, but the family will never find another so worthy relative." She turned to her left before adding, "Senator Amidala, will you be so kind as to take the stage."
Padmé Amidala, once Queen of the Naboo, now Senator and Leader of the Opposition, bowed before her sovereign, relinquished the hand of her daughter to her sister, then took the Queen's place before the crowds present and above the stasis coffin which carried her husband, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
"Honoured Citizens of the Empire," she began, "we are here today to mourn a hero of our universe; Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am here to mourn not just a member of that ancient Order, but a man, a husband and a father. He has been the love of my life for thirteen years, and I know not if I shall ever encounter his like again, either in this world, or the next. I come before you not to speak of the Council Master, but of the man, who many here were privileged to know. Obi-Wan was kind, generous, and selfless. He was a gentleman to all, elegant in his manners, eloquent in his powers of persuasion. I do not know much of the Force, but I know he was not just a Master, but one who was respected and regarded as such, both in combat and in negotiation. He was a loving husband and father, one whom I hope my daughter shall remember not just from my memories, but from her own as well.
"Obi-Wan was a hero of our Empire. But he was also a victim." Padmé paused here to let the startled gasp echoed by the crowds slowly die out. "A victim of an Order who manipulated him into using his ability in the Force for the nefarious act of treason that threatened our noble Emperor. A victim who sacrificed time to experience and enjoy the early years of our marriage and his daughter's life, to fight in a needless war. Obi-Wan hated to take lives; he regarded every part of nature as sacred. But he was a servant of this Empire, who performed his duty without question. Each time he was called to the field, he was forced to become someone of note; a general, a negotiator, a warrior, a hero. He much preferred a life of quietude, with his daughter and wife. We have lost a King amongst men, and I have lost the Emperor of my heart and soul."
Padmé stepped from the pulpit into a respectfully silent crowd, inwardly shocked by her speech. As Leader of the Opposition she had always been a strong advocate not just of peace, but of the Jedi Order. To denounce them so publicly, and on such a day as the funeral of her husband, convinced those who previously were wavering in their loyalty to the new Empire. Others silently mourned that they had lost a potentially valued member of the old ways and the Senate, who could have feasibly led and overthrown the darkness which now settled upon their Republic.
Emperor Palpatine was both amazed and pleased by his former sovereign's transformed loyalty to his cause. He feared since her marriage that he would loose her support and naive respect for those opinions and values he always proclaimed to hold. That the death of her husband would anger her, propelling her into the figurehead of the rebellious souls who would doubtless rise against his government in the days and years to come. To have her public assurance of alliance was a blessing he did not expect nor hope to achieve.
Ceremony over, the parade of Naberries, Senators and citizens who counted themselves close to the Jedi Master encircled his coffin once more, as the gun carriage conveyed his body away from the grand central plaza, towards Theed's National Memorial Gardens. Obi-Wan Kenobi was to be laid to rest in the Naberrie family crypt, where, as customary, his wife and daughter would spend the night watching over his resting place, before departing at dawn for Varykino, where Senator Amidala would take her solitary mourning period until she was permitted to return to the Senate.
The crowds accompanied the solemn procession to the Gardens, silently admiring how well the flowering blooms looked in the night which had settled over Naboo's capital many hours since. Inwardly their hearts grieved for the daughter who had lost her father so young, and for the wife, their Senator and former sovereign, both attired in their weeds of mourning, a beautiful harmony of purple and black. Silently they observed the two women, accompanied by the family's faithful astromech, descend the stairs down into the crypt behind the floating stasis coffin, until the sculpted stone door slid shut, sealing the end of the funeral.
One by one they dispersed, departing the planet for their homeworlds or Coruscant, leaving what was left of the Kenobi family to continue their mourning in private.
Inside the Naberrie family crypt, a nervous period of waiting ensued, with Cordé and Artoo watching Padmé as she paced the length of the tomb, the veil thrown carelessly from her face, resting slightly askew across the elaborate hairstyle that contained her dark brown tresses, her eyes moist from long ago shed tears at the words she committed herself to speak during the ceremony, seemingly betraying both her beliefs and her principles.
When the door slid aside once more, she did not start in alarm, but turned in relief as the comforting sight of a cowled Korun entered the holy resting place. Mace Windu lowered his hood after the door closed, and silently nodded to her, the prearranged signal which meant that she could proceed as planned.
Padmé dashed to the stasis coffin, her fingers feverishly pressing the button which released the transparisteel. As the clear half cylinder slid aside she touched the cheek of her husband with a shaking hand that carried the ringed symbol of their love and commitment to each other, stroking the skin in a tender caress.
"I love you, Obi-Wan," she uttered, in a surprisingly calm voice, while her heart pounded beneath her chest, anxiously waiting for a reply.
He opened his eyes, their blue green grey gaze moving instantly to her brown one, and a relieved cry escaped her mouth before she bent her head and pressed the closed lips to his. Willingly he returned the kiss, his hand moving from his chest to return the caress on her soft cheek, his tongue parting her red lips to duel passionately with hers.
Mace withstood their reunion for a good five minutes before politely coughing to remind them where they were and who they were with. Obi-Wan smiled against his wife's mouth, then let go of her so she could straighten herself, allowing him to climb out of the coffin to greet Artoo and gather his daughter into his arms.
Out of the shadows that covered the foremost wall of the crypt emerged Bail Organa and Darred Janren, carrying between them a dead clone of Obi-Wan, which was to take the resting place in the coffin, just in case Palpatine or any one of his minions became suspicious of this carefully orchestrated concealment. The being had been engineered on Kamino, along with all the others of the Temple bound Jedi Order, designed to confuse those who wished to murder them.
"The twins?" Obi-Wan asked his wife.
"Safe with their grandparents, cousins and Aunt," Padmé replied. "We'll collect them on our way to the Lake Country." She ran her eyes up his figure, from the brown booted legs to the red gold strands of hair. "How are you?"
"Well, all things considered," he murmured, his free hand reaching out to caress her soft cheek once more. "And you? I had the easier part, while you spoke those words which went against all you ever fought for."
"It was hard," Padmé confessed, "but necessary. And don't forget, this is just the first occasion. I shall have to continue professing my new allegiance in the Senate during the years to come." She paused before adding, "I pray the Force will not allow many to pass before this Empire is swept away and the Republic is restored."
"As do I," he murmured, before drawing her into his embrace. His hands drifted round her hair, fingering past the veil to tangle briefly in the brown curls before moving down the slender planes of her back to a waist still burdened by the aftermath of her concealed pregnancy. In hindsight such a move had been fortuitous, protecting their children from wave of mass murder which swept over not just those members of the Order, but anyone who showed the slightest hint of Force sensitivity.
"We had best go," Mace reminded them all. "It would not do to observe the usual ritual of waiting until the dawn, just in case he has watchers in place."
"There's a secret passage we can use," Padmé informed them, pointing towards a shadowed corner at the other end of the crypt. "It will take us into my family's home, and from their you can depart to your ships."
"What will you do now?" Bail asked.
"The Order shall disappear," Mace answered. "To the sanctuary planet where we shall reform and wait until the time has come to act."
"And you, Padmé?" Bail inquired.
"You shall see us on Coruscant, when the mourning period is over," Padmé replied, causing another startled gasp to escape from his mouth.
"Such a move is too dangerous, not just for yourselves, but for all of us. How shall you avoid detection?" he asked.
"I can cloak myself and the children, or wear inhibitors," Obi-Wan explained. "We shall keep to the apartment. But if the risk becomes too great the children and I will either return to Varykino or the sanctuary planet."
"We'll make contact only when necessary," Mace added. "May the Force be with us all." He pause to bow before everyone present, then gestured to Padmé. "Senator Amidala, if you would be so good as to lead the way."
Padmé nodded and with her husband and daughter following, walked to the shadowed corner of the crypt, where she gently turned one of the sculpted mythical beasts that adorned the walls of tomb, commanding the secret entrance to reveal itself. Then one by one they stepped into the dark passage.
Soft candlelight emanated from the house at Varykino, guiding the way for the small gondola which floated along the lake the Naberrie estate bordered, carrying the Kenobi family to what would be their undisturbed sanctuary for the next few months. Dormé had gone ahead of them to prepare the villa for their arrival, stocking the food cupboards, undertaking the few housekeeping duties required to make the place clean, before she joined her family on Naboo. Though no one was about to observe the occupants of the slender craft, Obi-Wan had donned the gear of a gondolier to escort his family home, while Padmé kept her veil covering her face, Cordé similarly attired and seated by her, the twins were resting in a bassinet in her lap. Not a word passed their lips, or a beep from Artoo, whose mini repulsor rockets carried him alongside the gondola, his weight would have capsized the craft if he placed himself inside it.
Obi-Wan drew the boat into the dock, a swift flick of the Force causing the rope to fall into his waiting grasp, then he set about securing the boat, while their faithful droid entered the villa, his optical receptors sweeping about the place in a quick but thorough security and surveillance check.
With the help of her husband Padmé climbed out of the craft, carrying the twins in her other hand, while Obi-Wan saw her safely on the dock before bending down to lift their daughter out of the craft. Artoo uttered the all clear, and they entered the villa.
After putting Cordé, Leia and Luke to bed, they walked into their own room, where they removed the cumbersome articles of clothing the funeral masquerade required them to don. Obi-Wan was the first to finish, and he stepped behind Padmé to help her from her elaborate gown, until every inch of her glorious flesh was revealed to his tender loving gaze. He drew his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and laid his lips on her neck.
Padmé closed her eyes as his mouth worshipped her skin, tilting her head until her dark brown curls rested upon his board toned shoulders. When his lips moved to caress her face, she turned her mouth to meet his, before turning in his arms. Her hands came up to explore the smooth planes of his chest, and one of his restrained a wrist, the tips of his fingers brushing the soft rise of her breast, his mouth moving to the roof of her eye, kissing the edge of her forehead.
Obi-Wan gently moved them to the bed, where he pulled her down upon him amongst the sheets, the small flames on the candles which surrounded them flickering amidst the slight current of breeze their movement created. He bent his legs to press his knees against her back, as she knelt about his hips, kissing his chest, writhing in pleasure as his eloquent hands worked their magic inside her.
She let him guide her into bliss, then manoeuvred upon him, rising to rest her back upon his thighs as they became one. Her eyes opened as he contorted his back, his hands splayed out on the bed behind him, so his mouth could capture her nipples, lavishing attention on both of them until they cried out each others names upon their release.
In the heady afterglow he fell back against the thick duvet and gathered her into his arms, his hands tenderly caressing her abdomen, which still displayed the hint of post pregnancy they worked so hard to conceal. She rested her face within the crook of his neck, as her fingers worked to release her curls from the elaborate hairstyle they were still contained within. When her hair was freely flowing down around them, he turned his head to press a kiss to the dark brown tresses.
"Tell me what happened on Mustafar," she asked quietly, for this was the first chance since they left that volcanic planet to come to terms with everything that took place there.
Leaving no detail out, he related to her all that occurred from the moment she lost consciousness when Anakin reluctantly let her go from his Force choke hold upon her neck. At times his voice shook with emotion, or his words failed him for a minute, but not until he reached the moment where the med-droid ushered him from her side on Polis Massa did Obi-Wan break down, whereupon she held him until his grief was spent.
After she gave birth to the twins, the med-droids ushered Obi-Wan out of the room in order to undertake the delicate operation to repair the damage to her neck. By the time she woke, his concern faded to relief as he held the twins beside her bed, until she regained the strength to take them into her arms.
Over the next few days, as she recovered from the labour, they met with Masters Windu and Yoda, and Bail and Breha, eventually conceiving the plan to fake Obi-Wan's death, enabling Padmé to transform herself into one of Palpatine's fervent supporters, her deception designed to confuse the Emperor, while secretly she and her husband involved themselves in the newly formed Alliance to Restore the Republic, whose members were the survivors of a committee who once met regularly at Cantham House.
When she was fit to travel, they erased all traces of their presence from the medical centre, forging a false record of Obi-Wan's death there before departure; the Organas to Alderaan, Master Yoda to the remains of the Order on the sanctuary planet, while the Kenobis and Mace travelled to Naboo, the Korun Master hiding himself within the Naberrie crypt in time for the masquerade funeral of his Coruscanti colleague. Obi-Wan then set himself into a deep Jedi trance, the kind which instilled the appearance of death upon him, vulnerable only to a preset voiced command, entrusted to his wife, with Mace's presence a backup if Padmé's words failed to revive him.
Padmé held her husband as he slept, his grief over Anakin temporarily spent, silently reflecting over these events. Many more such deceptions were to be carried out in the future, for it would take years, building up the Alliance until it was in a position to overthrow the Empire. She recalled the vision she experience during their wedding, how prophetically the symbolism portrayed future alliances, along with the storm of the darkness that now settled over the Republic, resting upon the horizon.
She prayed to the Force that they possessed the strength to endure what was to come.