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36. "Dooku Captured" (pt. 2)
Florrum, Outer Rim Territories
The thing about the Outer Rim was that a decent portion of the planets were like Tatooine. Hot, arid desert with an unforgiving, hopeless landscape. Florrum was one of these planets. It was hot, but it wasn't unbearable, as it only had one sun hanging in its hazy yellow sky. The horizon was smoggy, which gave everything in the distance an almost blurred look to it. And one of the first things that Elara noted upon stepping off their shuttle was the smell. She was used to the deserts of Tatooine where the air was so dry it very nearly drew the moisture out of one's mouth. But here, not only was it dry, it stank of sulfurous gas. Her nose crinkled upon getting the first whiff of it. Her eyes swept across the not-terribly-humble building that was the headquarters of one weequay pirate named Hondo. It towered over them ostentatiously, the brassy metal of its walls dull and weathered from being battered by sand.
No sooner did the muted sunlight strike the Jedi's faces than they spotted their welcoming party. It was a ragtag group of weequay pirates, at least a dozen of them. They were either stern faced or impassive, eyes narrowed and piercing. Simultaneously, every single one of them drew a blaster of some kind, and the sights were leveled at their guests.
"Mm, a warm welcome," Elara hummed quietly. She worked the slight scrunch of her nose off her face, and then kept her expression neutral. She'd dealt with pirates before––they rowdily broke glasses and spilled drinks in Gardulla's cantina, and stopped by Watto's shop for a cheap spare part. They were an unpredictable bunch. So much as an incorrectly raised eyebrow could set them off. And seeing as they all had blasters and she and her compatriots were unarmed, it would be best not to anger them.
The pirates formed two lines, leaving a decent sized gap between them. It was a clear indication that the Jedi were to walk between them, and that they were to stick to the dictated path. So it was between the lines that they walked, and Elara was distinctly aware that every single blaster moved with them. She had a feeling that they would be watched closely the entire time they were there. At the end of the lines, a surly looking weequay marched forward and shoved a device in Anakin's face. He leaned back a little to avoid having an eye gouged by one of the device's antennae. The pirate started to wave it around Anakin's person; it squealed out a few low whines. The pirate then did the same to Obi-Wan, and then Elara––they were searching for weapons.
Once it was clear they'd come unarmed, as requested, the pirate grunted a little. "Follow me."
The pirate led them into Hondo's headquarters and were immediately greeted by a rush of cool, circulated air. The sulfurous burn of the air outside was replaced by a heavy, exotic perfume, which smelled both floral and spicy. Lively music filled the air, just loud enough that one would have to raise their voice to be heard over it. They were escorted into what appeared to be a large dining hall, which was buzzing with energy despite it still being relatively early. The lighting was low and yellowish, which might have been comforting in any other location. Here, it made the shadows seem darker, the ceilings taller. Two long, ornate tables flanked the hall to either side. They were topped with bowls of fruit and other such finger foods, green ceramic pitchers and matching cups. The occupants of the room appeared to almost exclusively be weequay, though not all of them appeared to be pirates. Some were well dressed and weaponless. Others heavily armored with blaster rifles.
The front of the room was occupied by a large circular table, around which armed pirates stood. And at the head of that table was a well dressed weequay, his feet kicked up on the back of the unoccupied chair beside him. He lounged languidly, his body language alone alluding to the fact he was someone important. The coat he wore was a vivid red and likely expensive, with a high collar and gold trim. His head was topped with a peculiar helmet, and his eyes protected by green-tinged goggles. Upon noticing his guests, he perked up somewhat.
"Gentlemen!" A wide smile curled across his lips as his attention shifted to the lone woman in the trio before him. "And Lady." He lifted his glass high, almost in a toast. "Can I offer you something to drink?" He tipped his head back, not waiting for their answer, and guzzled down what was left inside it.
The Jedi all stopped on the opposite side of the table and watched thin rivulets of liquid spill from the corner of the pirate's mouth.
"No thank you," Obi-Wan politely declined.
Despite the refusal, the pirate––who was surely the weequay named Hondo they sought––batted his hand at a cup, which sent it sliding across the table. It stopped precariously close to the edge, and its unappetizing green liquid sloshed over its rim. A very quiet, phlegmy sound of distaste gurgled in the back of Anakin's throat. Elara was sure she was the only one who heard it; but his accompanying expression could not be. In an attempt to diffuse any tension the look might have caused, Elara offered a polite smile.
"Perhaps we may share a drink once we talk business," she suggested.
Hondo chuckled and waggled a finger at her. He then dragged the back of his linen wrapped hand over his drink slicked lips."Business before pleasure! The way of the Jedi." He propped an arm up on the back of his chair, and his head cocked roguishly. "But perhaps, Pretty Jedi, I could persuade you otherwise."
"Congratulations on your capture of Count Dooku," Obi-Wan continued, his voice sounding duller and flatter than before. Unsure if she had just imagined the tonal shift, Elara spared him a sidelong glance. There was an odd tension to his face, and the muscles in his neck appeared a hair strained. "Very impressive."
Hondo chuckled ingratiatingly, chest puffing out.
"Yes, it was," he agreed. He barely spared Obi-Wan a glance and let his gaze settle once more on Elara. "Eh, even a Sith Lord is no match for my warriors!" He toasted to a group of men on the right side of the table––who were slumped over, drunk and wavering in and out of consciousness. "He put up quite a fight. Blasters, cannons, that… glowy thing!" He proceeded to pull his feet down, lean over the table, and make motions that indicated saber motions; he even made a couple of whooshing sounds in an attempt to imitate the lightsaber's tell-tale hum.
"You mean a lightsaber?" Obi-Wan asked.
"That's it!"
"You and your warriors were very brave, then. It's not often one comes to blows with a Sith Lord and reaches an advantageous conclusion," Elara said. Her tone remained perfectly even, the kind of way she spoke when dealing with senators, nobility, and superiors.
Hondo chuckled heartily and kicked his feet back up. He wiggled down in his chair some, getting comfortable. That broad smile reappeared on his grey, leathery face, and it was directed at Elara once more. On either side of her, she sensed both her companions tense up. To her right, Anakin shifted a quarter-step closer.
"We are very brave, you'll come to find. Very, very brave! But what a terrible weapon, I have to say––I don't need to tell you… those things can do some damage." He made a sound, as though recalling some kind of horror. "Carved up some of my best men pretty good––" As he spoke, a Kowakian monkey-lizard dropped in out of nowhere and perched on one of Hondo's knees. In one hand it clutched a bright pink bottle, and in the other… was Anakin's lightsaber. "––before I could get the jump on him."
Elara felt Anakin go rigid at what he saw. They were standing close enough together that she was able to stretch a finger out to tap hip. A quiet warning to not do anything rash, especially with the number of blasters trained on their persons.
"And how exactly did you get the jump on him?" Anakin asked. "With this?"
In a flagrant disregard to what Elara had warned him against, Anakin reached a hand out and summoned the hilt back to him. It shot out of the Kowakian's feeble hold, through the air, and settled in his palm. As could be expected, the minute his fingers curled around it, ten different blaster rifles were aimed at all three Jedi. The disgruntled Kowakian crawled and hopped from barrel to barrel of the rifles, squawking to itself. It stopped on the blaster closest to Anakin, reached out, and snatched the weapon back.
Elara turned a look over her shoulder after feeling something bump into the back of her head. Sure enough, there was an eager looking blaster barrel hovering mere inches away. Turning back to Hondo, she lifted her hands in a demure display of innocence.
"You must forgive my brother. He misplaced the hilt that you find yourself in possession of. As I'm sure pirates are quite fond of their blasters, the Jedi are much the same with their lightsabers," she apologized.
"We have no interest in disagreeing with you." Obi-Wan reached up and gently pushed aside one of the rifles pointed at his head. "All we want is to confirm you are holding Dooku, and we'll go."
Hondo hummed lowly, the sound rumbling in his chest. The Kowakian was once again perched on his knee, lightsaber hilt hugged into its chest as it poured the pirate another drink. He darted a look between all three Jedi, and then gave a short nod.
"I shall arrange a meeting."
OOOO
Said 'meeting' was arranged quickly. No sooner than Hondo had said it, it was done. The Jedi were escorted across a dusty, unremarkable open-air courtyard to an entrance that led to a subterranean level of the headquarters. It was there that they had their very own stretch of holding cells. The ceiling to the area was vaulted and came to a neat peak far above them. There were eight cells on either side of the corridor, which left a grand total of sixteen rooms with triangular, metal doors. Elara quietly wondered if there had ever been a time where each one was filled. Everything was quiet, quieter than any brig or prison that she'd ever visited. It smelled better, too. Only one door was guarded. Two pirates stood on either side of it, wicked looking blaster rifles heavy in their arms. It was that door that the Jedi were brought to. The doors were opened and they were allowed inside, and what they saw genuinely floored Elara for a moment.
These hapless pirates had, indeed, captured Count Dooku.
He hovered, detained in a containment field, in the middle of the cell. He glowered beyond them, not yet deigning them with an acknowledgement of their presence. With lips twisted in a grimace, Dooku was the perfect picture of displeasure. He'd been stripped of his cape and his belts, leaving him rather plain looking in comparison to how dramatically imposing he often appeared to be.
"Look at how the mighty Sith Lord has fallen," Obi-Wan commented, a quiet form of what might have been amusement lilting his tone.
"This place suits you, Count," Anakin chirped. Both he and Obi-Wan had started to circle around him––but Elara stood steadfast and unmoving before him, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Dooku turned an unamused, narrow eyed look on the younger Skywalker. "It wasn't so long ago that you yourself were in similar surroundings on my ship," he reminded, voice rumbling.
Anakin smirked and snorted. "Yeah––but now I'm free and you're not."
With a slow turn of his head, Dooku's attention alighted on Elara. She met his gaze evenly and said nothing. Did nothing.
"And you. Sad to see that your time on Tatooine was cut short. The Hutts had such plans for you."
There was a rough scuffling as Anakin came to a violent halt. His blasé, teasing expression quickly shifted to something hot and pinched. Elara finally moved, taking a single step towards the restrained Count. Her head tilted back so she might meet his gaze better––and she smiled.
"It just so happens that imprisonment doesn't suit me, Count Dooku," she said, tone light.
Dooku arched a white brow and stared at her down the length of his imperious nose.
"The number of times you and your brother have been captured says otherwise," he drawled.
"Imprisonment may not suit me, Count, but I have to agree with my brother. It suits you quite well."
"A shame that your aptitude for wit does not reflect itself in your skills with the saber," he tutted. That did have Elara's teeth grinding a little, something she hoped he hadn't noticed as he peeled his eyes away from her. "But I am confident this situation will rectify itself soon."
"Soon you'll be brought to trial by the Senate, and most likely spend a very long time in a cell just like this one," Obi-Wan quipped. He'd come full circle, now, and had paused behind Elara to say his piece.
Anakin, who'd stopped at Dooku's back, craned his head over the man's shoulder. "If you're lucky."
Dooku shook his head. "Oh, my naïve young Jedi… you must be overly optimistic if you think these weequayans plan to let you leave this planet."
With a laugh, Anakin finished walking his loop around the Count and started to move towards the door. He cast an assured smirk over his shoulder as he went.
"They're planet hopping thieves looking for a quick score. They have no interest in picking a fight with Jedi."
"They are devious and deceitful and, most importantly, stupid."
Obi-Wan stepped around Elara, moved in front of her, and smirked up into Dooku's face. "It's a wonder you don't get along with them, Dooku." He turned to walk away, paused, and threw one last remark over his shoulder. "You have so much in common."
Elara lingered a moment, eyes fixated on the incarcerated Sith Lord, until she felt a feather light tap on her arm. Her eyes snapped to the point of contact. Obi-Wan had gently prodded her arm with the tips of his fingers, a quiet signal that it was time to leave. Her eyes only briefly flickered to Obi-Wan's face before she turned to walk alongside him. Both of her hands moved to clasp behind her back, again a little saddened that his hand was not there to guide her.
And as they stepped out of the cell, they just barely heard Dooku's final remark:
"You underestimate them at your own peril, Kenobi…"
As the doors closed behind them, Elara cast one last look at their adversary. He glowered in the low blue glow of the containment field, his warning clinging to stale air. Dooku was not a man that she would trust. She took his words and his slights with a grain of sand, knowing that most of the time it was meant to throw their footing. But this… this warning, given under his breath, felt different somehow. Perhaps it was because he was not the one with the upper hand; when most found themselves in such a situation, they stuck to snarky remarks and low blowing insults. But he'd given them a warning. And that had Elara cautiously eyeing one of the weequay guards, while Obi-Wan politely informed their guide they'd need to momentarily return to their ship.
Hondo's headquarters was more of a complex than it was a single building. It was likely the busiest, if not the only, hub on the desolate planet. It was a safe haven for pirates and thieves and criminals, all of whom likely ingratiate themselves to the pirate who called it home. There was even an indoor market hall, with half-hearted booths set up to sell and trade wares. Most of these booths were just tables, some with cloth overhangs, and none of them seemed to be too busy. It was through that hall that the Jedi walked, recalling their way back to their ship all on their own. They would need to inform the Council that the pirates did, in fact, have the Count; and they would then need to receive further instructions on how to proceed.
"I don't know about either of you," Anakin said on a sigh, "but I could use some rest." He rolled his shoulders back and pushed his shoulder blades together, likely in an attempt to relieve some stiffness.
"Remember, Anakin, this could still be a trap," Obi-Wan reminded.
"You're not worried about Dooku, are you?"
"No, I'm worried about these pirates."
There was a whooping sound behind them, and Elara turned to watch a Jawa go barreling into the legs of a weequay pirate. In a display of displeasure, the pirate turned and punched the Jawa square in the face, which sent it flying back into the legs of another thuggish looking weequay. All three parties were soon embroiled in a fist-fight, which had them rolling across the dusty ground.
"We'd do our best to be careful," Elara agreed, turning away from the sight.
"We were being careful. You're not on edge about what Dooku said, are you?" Anakin asked, expression a little incredulous.
"I simply find it strange that the man who tried to frame us for the kidnapping of Jabba the Hutt's son is warning us. And not against himself, but against our hosts. Pirates shouldn't be trusted liberally, we know this; and we have been careful. But I don't think it will hurt to be more cautious," Elara said. She kept her voice quiet, eyes bouncing between each being they passed. None of them spared them more than a quick glance, and none of them seemed particularly suspicious.
"Jedi!" A weequay dressed in blue approached, a hand raised to catch their attention. "Now that your business is completed, we invite you to join us in the grand hall for a banquet. And a true weequay banquet is not to be missed." He swept his arms in the direction of the hall, bowed slightly forward at the waist.
Elara stepped forward and inclined her head. "We must first contact our compatriots on Coruscant to confirm the deal, but then we would be delighted to join you."
"We would?" Anakin muttered under his breath. Elara turned to shoot him a stern look; he immediately cleared his throat and pasted a charming, though close-lipped, smile on his face. "Ah, yes––we would be honored. Thank you." The pirate bowed, a dramatic hand placed to his chest, and he bounded off into the grand hall. With him gone, Elara turned, one hand braced on a hip, and an eyebrow arched. Her brother threw out his arms. "What?"
"You do realize that, one day, all that muttering is going to get you in trouble, right?" she questioned. Anakin sputtered, trying to find the right response––a defense, a retort, a riposte. But nothing came from it. With a roll of her eyes, and long-suffering but fond shake of her head, Elara turned back around and continued walking.
Behind her, Elara heard Obi-Wan say, "Sometimes, it's best to let her have the final word."
And against her better judgement, she smiled.
OOOO
The music in the grand hall was louder than it had been earlier. It would seem that while confirmation of Dooku's capture was being passed along to the Council, the banquet had kicked into full swing. There were pirates dancing on tables, around which food and drink was being passed around. There was cheering and singing and yelling, cries of delight and of insult; even a fight or two scrapped in the corners, with onlookers making obvious betting pools on who would win. The heavily perfumed air was now laced with something more acrid and offensive. It stung the nostrils, and its sourness was a familiar scent in any den of iniquity. Spice. Pirates lounged at tables smoking the drug as casually as one might sip a drink. It was everything that one would expect a pirate banquet to be––including a little overwhelming.
The Jedi were, in a sense, the guests of honor, but they weren't treated as such. Upon entering the grand hall, they were ushered to one of the tables, where Obi-Wan and Anakin were sat down on one side, and Elara on the other. Their attention was captivated by a drunken weequay that hopped and swayed on the tabletop between them, preventing any sort of conversation to flow smoothly between them. So it was all Elara could do to stare up at the dancing pirate, her hands occasionally twitching in case they needed to shoot out and prevent them from falling. To be quite frank, the atmosphere of the room reminded her of Gardulla's cantina; and it wasn't settling well with her. It was starting to make her jumpy. Across the table, Obi-Wan had dropped his face into a hand, shoulders lifting and falling as he sighed. Anakin looked bemused as he watched the pirate, mouth hanging gently open. It would seem this was the 'entertainment' they were to endure before Senator Kharrus and Jar-Jar arrived with the ransom.
Hondo sauntered up, then, behind the pair of Jedi, and chuckled heartily. His hands dropped onto Anakin and Obi-Wan's shoulders respectively, and he stooped down to hover between them.
"Now can I persuade you to join us for a drink?" he asked. "It's a tradition in the name of friendship! And, besides––the Pretty Jedi promised, did she not?" That broad smile appeared once again, and it was turned on Elara all the same.
Elara smiled, albeit a little tightly, when her eyes found Hondo's. "I did, didn't I? And who would we be to refuse tradition?"
"Alright, but nothing too strong," Obi-Wan conceded. He fixed Anakin with a look. "He's flying."
With a bit of flare, Hondo turned and called out to one of his men. "Bring our guests some refreshments!"
It wasn't long before a tray was brought over and two drinks were placed in front of Obi-Wan and Anakin. Before the third could be slid across the way to Elara, Hondo scooped it up, jumped up onto the table without a care, and hopped off on the other side. He proffered it to her with a dramatic bow. She blinked at him, wide-eyed, and took the cup from his hand.
"Thank you."
"But of course! I would be remiss if I didn't assist such a lovely guest," Hondo deferred, a hand placed gallantly over his heart. Elara hummed lightly, a smile pasted onto her face. She darted her eyes over at her companions, who both wore pinched expressions. Hondo then straightened up quickly and thrust a hand into the air. "To a successful transaction!"
A cheer went up and everyone raised their cups. The Jedi followed suit––but Elara watched as both Obi-Wan and Anakin swapped their cups out with those beside them. In any other situation it would have been considered a misuse of the Force. A sort of slight-of-hand move that conmen used on the street to enthrall passerbys. Once their cup was raised, they utilized the Force to quickly slip one cup out of their neighbor's grasp, only to immediately be replaced by the other. They had agreed to be cautious; and everyone had been insisting they have a drink all night. So Elara did the same, her cup rapidly slipping from her hand, pressing up against the bottom of the cup the weequay next to her held aloft, and replaced it. One the new cup was snug in her grasp, Elara lifted the drink a little higher.
"To powerful pirates and new friends of the Republic," Obi-Wan offered, tone lifted to carry over the din of sound. There was a sound of acknowledgement for the toast, but it was distinctly less enthusiastic than the last one.
"Enjoy your evening gentlemen." Hondo turned and inclined his head to Elara. "My lady."
Elara tipped her glass in his direction before she brought the cup to her lips. The drink wasn't as terrible as its slimy green color had suggested. It was tart, but it wasn't as bad as the Hutt wine from Tatooine. As the Jedi drank their toasts, she noted that Hondo had taken his leave, disappearing into a back room, with the Kowakian perched on his shoulder.
"I still don't get it," Anakin admitted. He set his cup down and pulled a face as he fought down a belch.
"Get what?" Obi-Wan asked.
"How a bunch of drunken pirates managed to catch Dooku when we couldn't."
Elara leaned forward on the table, elbows braced against its worn surface. She glanced up at the swaying weequay above them, who had shuffled a little further down the table when Hondo had jumped up onto it.
"To be fair… he was once a Jedi, he knows our strategies and techniques. He's never been a pirate, and pirates are…" there was a thud and a crash as the dancing pirate tripped, fell, and toppled off the table in a fit of laughter, "unpredictable."
"And while that may be true, perhaps there's a lesson to be learned here," Obi-Wan suggested. Elara hummed thoughtfully and nodded, bringing the cup back up to her lips. It really wasn't that bad, every sip had it tasting sweeter than it had been the sip before.
Anakin sighed and started to spin his cup around on the tabletop. It left wet spirals on every twist. His head moved into a confused shake, and some of his hair slipped into his face from behind his ear. It was in that awkward stage between short and long, now.
"I still don't get it," he reiterated.
The look that appeared on Obi-Wan's face was very reminiscent of that of a school teacher. Brows raised, finger lifted––he was going to be giving a lesson about this. It caused Elara to smile into her cup, the curve of her lips hopefully hidden as she tipped her head back to take another drink.
"It's to remind us to be humble, and never too proud to accept a gift when it comes our way."
With a bright hum, Elara vaulted her eyebrows and smirked. "One might even call ourselves… lucky," she teased, knowing the word would get a rise out of Obi-Wan. And sure enough, it had him snorting. He shook his head, eyes scrunched shut, hand outstretched to stop the notion. When his eyelids flicked open, his gaze was immediately on her, and his lips were curling at the corners.
"No, no, no––no luck. If we were lucky, we would have captured Dooku on our own. And yet, here we are. No luck involved," was his retort.
It was a brief back-and-forth. Fleeting. But with it came the easy flow and energy that had once been indulged in so often. It's quick reappearance sparked an ache in Elara's chest, and it had her sagging her weight on her elbows a little more. Her smirk waned into something smaller and more melancholy. And a similar expression had overtaken Obi-Wan's face too, his smile so subtle it could barely be called a smile.
It was then that Anakin, who didn't seem to clock what had passed between his sister and former Master, lifted his drink.
"Well… to unexpected gifts, then." He reached out to let the cup hover over the middle of the table, so Elara might be able to reach it better.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat, smiled, and reached out to do the same. "Hear, hear!"
Elara leaned over the tabletop and knocked her glass against theirs with a sharp clink. She made a point of keeping her expression playful, and forced her lips into a matching tilt.
"May we receive more of them in the future," she said.
And as they drank, the pirates they'd swapped drinks with each slumped to the table, unconscious. Elara lowered her now half-drained cup, and winced as the pirate beside her slipped off his chair and onto the floor. No one else seemed to notice the simultaneous passing out of their comrades, and if they had, they were unperturbed by it. But, given that there were a number of unconscious pirates across the room, it was likely a common occurrence.
Anakin chuckled a little and patted the stool beside him. "Well, Lari, there's a seat open over here, now," he offered. The smile he'd been wearing waned a little when he noticed the pirate on the stool beside the empty one was lazily gazing across the table at his sister. Anakin cleared his throat and shifted over one stool, and then tapped the one he'd just vacated. "Better yet, take mine."
Elara smiled at the obvious flare of protectiveness, which made itself known again as Anakin glowered in the pirate's general direction. With a gentle chuckle, Elara rose to her feet––and wobbled as her knees weakly buckled. She caught her weight on the table, letting out a little 'whoa' as she steaded herself.
"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked. He'd sat up a little straighter, and his eyes were darting between her face and legs.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Elara dismissed. She righted herself and though her knees still felt a little shaky, she otherwise felt fine. "Must've stood up too fast."
"Yeah, right. You sure you aren't just a lightweight?" Anakin teased with the confident bravado of a little brother.
With an indignant click of her tongue, Elara pointed across the table at him.
"Need I remind you who won Moulee-rah Moocha in the Skywalker versus Skywalker round?" she shot back. "It was me, if you can't recall."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Anakin muttered into his cup, though his lips were still quirked into a smirk.
Elara rolled her eyes and started to make her way around the table. She walked with measured steps, as her legs were still a little wobbly. Despite her words to her brother, she wondered if, perhaps, it was the alcohol. They weren't often allowed the time to unwind with a drink; and given the fact this was likely bootleg liquor, it was probably stronger than average cantina fare. By the time Elara had made it around the table, a fuzziness had crept into her head. It had her blinking hard, momentarily wavering on her feet as the lack of light threw her off balance. Her hand shot out and grabbed hold of the nearest person's shoulder. And when her eyes opened, she discovered that it was Obi-Wan's. He was staring up at her with concern, lips pursed. Anakin, on the other hand, had a bantha-shit eating grin on his face.
"Okay, maybe it's the drink," she conceded, clearing her throat. With her hand still on Obi-Wan's shoulder, she lowered herself into the chair between him and her brother. Once she was seated, her hand fell away, gloved fingers slipping smoothly from his pauldron.
Though Elara had brought her cup over with her––the intent being to finish it––she eyed it warily, now. If half of that cup had her knees wobbly and her head hazy, it was probably best she didn't finish it. So, instead, she pushed it away and braced an elbow on the table. Her face scrunched up, a hand scrubbing over her eyes as another wave of dizziness crashed down on her. A sound of displeasure rumbled in her chest. Her hand slid under her chin, giving it a place to rest as she tried to ride out the spinning in her head.
"Wow, okay…" Anakin chuckled from beside her. Elara hummed, a heavy furrow befalling her brows. "I think it's hitting me, now. I didn't even drink that much… Geez, no wonder this stuff isn't sold in cantinas…"
"Are you sure you're alright?" Obi-Wan asked.
His voice was gentle. Quiet. Warm. It was enough to draw Elara's eyelids open, and have her head pivot towards him. When she blinked, it was slow, like she'd had several drinks instead of half of one. Her thoughts were starting to scramble, lost in thinking about how the tone of his voice was the definition of warmth. Her head listed sideways into her hand, cheek cradled by her palm. Lethargically, her brows lifted. Her vision had gone a little fuzzy, which left Obi-Wan's face a blur of crinkled eyebrows and frowning lips.
"Hmmm?" she hummed, long and low.
"I asked if you were feeling alright?"
"Oh…" Elara thought hard on the question, her face scrunching up in contemplation. Was she okay? Well… her head was a bit spinny. Her eyes couldn't focus on anything. Her limbs were starting to feel heavy. That meant, no; she was not okay. And just as she was about to say so, her vision cleared enough to see Obi-Wan's face. Something in Elara's addled mind short circuited, and all she could think about was how handsome this man was. With an almost sad sigh, Elara slumped into her hand a little more. "You've got… the nicest eyes…"
Obi-Wan's mouth snapped open to reply, but his eyes rolled a little, brows arched as he swayed in his seat. One of his hands shot out to grab the back of her chair, which brought him listing towards her a little bit. "What?" he muttered.
"Blue. Your eyes, they're… blue…" Elara's words were starting to slur together, and it was getting harder to keep her eyes open. She heard the warmth of Obi-Wan's voice say something––but she couldn't make it out. Instead of asking what he'd said, though, all she did was hum and close her eyes. She hoped he would speak again, because his voice… it was so warm. So lovely. It made her feel safe. And he did say something else, but it was just a garble of syllables and tonal shifts. And it was then, as she listened to that comforting lilting voice, that she slumped forward, barrelling towards unconsciousness.
The last thing Elara was aware of before everything went black was the feeling of arm catching around her waist, and a hand fisting into her tunic.
OOOO
When Elara awoke, the first thing she registered was the pounding in her head; it was deep, painful throbbing at her temples. It had a quiet groan crackle at the back of her throat, eyebrows drawing together in protest at the feeling. She bowed her head, as though to duck it into her chest and hide it away––but found herself tucking it against something. Something warm, enticingly so. It was then that she realized her hands were tucked between her own chest and something solid, her fingers clutching at something worn but soft. There was a weight wrapped around one of her legs, but it wasn't unwelcomed. It was oddly comforting, in fact. Despite the sharp throb in her head, this situation, whatever it was, wasn't wholly unpleasant.
Elara burrowed her head further into the warmth it had found, and was greeted by a scent both woody and floral, sweet and soft, yet simultaneously rich. It was… familiar. It was something she liked very much, but for the life of her could not place it with the kriffing headache she had. Her nose skimmed along the expanse of warmth gently, which brought her lips to brush against it, too. It was when the sensitive flesh of her lips grazed that warmth that she realized what it was she was touching––skin. Elara made a quiet sound of confusion, but did little more than that. Her body felt heavy, and her eyelids felt like they'd been glued shut. So she sighed and contented herself to indulge in the warmth she'd found. It was better to focus on that than the wicked throbbing in her head.
That was when Elara felt, more than heard, a low rumbling sound. It vibrated beneath her palms and tickled the tip of her nose and the skin of her lips. The weight wrapped around her leg jerked suddenly, jostling her closer against the solid, comforting warmth she'd discovered. She made a quiet little sound in response, brows furrowed. Confusion started to melt away as she realized that said warmth was a person. The weight across her back was an arm. She was draped over someone's chest. And her face was nuzzled into their neck. Slowly, she tilted her head back, which left her nose and lips dragging a line as it moved. The sensation seemed to cause whoever she was cuddled up to groan. The arm around her tightened its hold again, and the way the muscles in their neck shifted indicated they were rolling their head towards her.
No sooner did Elara's nose stop grazing skin than it bumped a jawbone. It was hard and covered in soft but wiry hair. She stopped moving, eyelids starting to flutter. The scrape of this person's beard fell over the bridge of her nose, and the slight gaze of lips brushed over the furrow between her brows. The sensation of the beard scraping back across her nose caused it to crinkle, but it was soon soothed and replaced by the feel of another nose gliding alongside hers. Once a forehead came to rest against her own, all movement ceased. Elara's eyes finally opened, but remained heavily drooped. The first thing her sight was availed to was the sight of a pair of lips, a hair's breadth away from her own. She knew those lips. She'd stared at them, watched as lithe fingers swept across them, loved the way they curled into a smile, hated the way they frowned.
Those were Obi-Wan's lips.
Slowly, her gaze was dragged upwards, along the length of a regal nose, and stopped when they reached his eyes. They were hooded, so much so that his eyelashes nearly kissed his cheekbones from how close they were to being closed. The peak of blue that Elara could see of them were bleary, like he'd just awoken from a long sleep. A mess of hair had flopped across his forehead, and the ends of the blonde strands tickled at his brow bone. She could feel the heat of his breath against her own mouth, and it caused something heated to worm its way down her spine and into her stomach.
This had to be a dream.
A very cruel, very real dream.
Elara let her eyes fall shut again, a quiet, contented sigh passing between her lips––which inched a hair closer to Obi-Wan's…
And then a loud, discontented groan shattered the silence, and the illusion that this was all in her own head. Because that groan––that was Anakin. And he had no place in a dream like this. So Elara immediately went rigid, just as Obi-Wan did. Her eyes snapped open to find that he, too, was staring at her, wide-eyed and frozen. The beating of her heart had elevated so quickly, it caused the throbbing in her head to get worse. A thrill of shock ripped through her, swiftly followed by a wave of horror. This wasn't good. It was very not good. Elara was quick to divert her gaze and then roll to the side, which proved to be more awkward than anticipated. She flopped onto the floor gracelessly, which then made her realize one of his legs had been hooked around her own. Once their legs were detangled, Elara groaned––and not just because of the headache, anymore––and pressed her hands against her face.
She had almost kissed him. Elara had nearly kissed Obi-Wan Kenobi. Her dismayed expression was hidden behind her palms, and her heart had crawled up into her throat. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't have been that bad; a kiss didn't mean that the Code had been broken. But it was everything that had preceded the kiss, everything that made her want to kiss him. It was everything that would follow it. Because Elara knew that if she kissed him… there'd be no backing away from what she felt. And what she felt was roiling around in her stomach––though she couldn't rightfully say if that bubbling was all the emotions, or the alcohol she'd ingested.
"Master…" Anakin groaned. "What happened…?"
"Ah, well…" Obi-Wan cleared his throat, and then groaned. "I guess that pirate brew is stronger than we thought."
When Elara tried to let her hands slump aside, they did not. With a grimaced expression, she lifted her hands and found that they were clasped in binders. Wonderful. She rocked her weight forward and grunted at the way her head throbbed in protest. She nearly flopped back down onto the floor, but a pair of hands grabbed her own and hauled her forward. It was Obi-Wan that had helped her sit up. Even through her gloves, even through his, Elara swore that she could feel the burn of his body heat. So once she was settled, legs folded beneath herself, she quickly retracted her hands. His lingered in the air a moment, fingers curling slightly before they dropped to his lap. With a huff, Elara looked down and noted that a glowing blue tether was looped around her waist, which connected her to Obi-Wan, which connected him to Anakin.
"I don't think alcohol gets you manacled and stuck in a laser tether…" she muttered. She hissed and brought her hands up to press against her forehead. "It does give you a headache, though…"
"I only took a sip," Anakin defended groggily.
Elara, still reeling from how she'd woken up, shot her brother a look. "Liar."
"We were drugged, obviously," Obi-Wan said.
"Why would they risk losing the ransome?" asked Anakin, fingers prodding at drooping eyes.
"The deal appears to have changed. They must be trying to triple their payday."
"A shrewd observation, Master Kenobi," drawled the rumbling, unexpected, and largely unwelcomed voice of Count Dooku.
The three Jedi whipped their heads around to find the Sith Lord sat cross-legged at the back of the small cell. And it was with great displeasure that Elara realized that he, too was bound with a laser tether––and that it was connected to her.
"Oh, great. It's you," Anakin deadpanned.
"I did warn you these pirates were devious. You will notice our shackles are bound together. I have tried to separate us… to no avail."
There was a faint growl and a skittering as boots scrabbled against stone flooring.
"It's bad enough we have to be in the same cell, but could at least spare me the sound of your constant chatter?!" Anakin's voice had quickly climbed into a shout, and he surged to his feet, making to lunge for the Count. But Obi-Wan rose quickly to stop him, his hands flying to restrain one of his shoulders. And, luckily, the hot-headed young man backed down.
Thankfully there was enough slack that Elara wasn't yanked to the ground at all the sudden movements. She, however, remained seated a moment longer, waiting for the roll of her stomach to calm before she rose. And when she did, her knees cracked and she became distinctly aware of a crick in her neck.
"And while I hold my tongue, the three of you will devise a brilliant strategy for getting off this godforsaken planet?" Dooku quipped coldly, staring up at them.
"Yes!" Anakin and Obi-Wan barked simultaneously.
Elara sighed and gestured to both men with her manacled hands. "Yes."
Dooku settled back against the walls, eyes falling shut against the sight before him. "Excellent." He appeared to be resigning himself to silence and, honestly, that was all that they could hope for.
Elara turned her back on Dooku and started to visually sweep the cell. She looked for obvious weaknesses in the walls, the ceiling, or the floor. But it was well kept. It was, perhaps, the best cell that she'd ever seen, aesthetically speaking. This one was even colorful. There was no furniture, not even a bunk, but the walls were painted. The floor was patterned. Hondo, it seemed, was such a showy man, it even reflected itself in the places he kept his prisoners. At least if they were going to be imprisoned, the floors were clean, there was decent light, and the air was being circulated.
"So, let's get to it," Elara sighed. She schooled her expression, forcing it back into the impassive mask she donned when it was time to get to work. It wasn't often she put it on in front of these two men, but this time, it felt like she had to. With what had just happened, with how much of a tizzy her emotions were in––it was needed. "How're we getting out of here?"
Afterword: So technically that last chunk is from "The Gungan General," but it's so little of it it didn't make sense to include that in the chapter title. It's like an after credit scene! And next time we jump feet first into "The Gungan General."
Review Replies!
DCDGojira: So, Wyle was a bounty hunter character I created back for chapters 11-13. He was part of the plot to kill Senator Noth of Gleann. Elara convinced him/tricked him into giving her the name of his contact, and then after the fact he was arrested for his part in the assassination plot. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
WaywardandWanderlust: Happy New Year! I hope the same for you and your family! Any chance I get to write some good sibling banter, I'll take. And I'm still stretching my legs with Ahsoka, but I think I might be getting a hang of her! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
monkeybaby: I hope you enjoyed part 2! I had a blast with it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again! And Happy New Year!
lolistarkiller: No matter what, Anakin will definitely always be in want of contact with his sister. Elara's been there for him through everything. And though she's definitely had her 'stern older sister moments' she didn't have to discipline him the way Obi-Wan had to. Their relationship is definitely still subject to change, as there's still much to happen to them, but one thing's for sure––no matter what, no matter how they feel towards one another, they're always going to want the other with them. And when he becomes Vader, that's certainly gonna become something he has to deal with. And I've got such plans for when Elara finds out about Anakin and Padmé. I have a whole bullet pointed list on how that's gonna go down, and I'm super excited to start pulling from it! Once again, thank you for your lovely review, I loved getting the chance to read your interpretations again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
09sasha: I hope you have a good New Year, too! And we will absolutely get an Obi-Wan pov in the next chapter! He's got some thoughts about everything that's happened… especially with the end of this chapter. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
PrettyRecklessLaura: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Duchess of Lantern Waste: Figuring out how Ahsoka fits into the Skywalker/Kenobi gang is a whole lot of fun to figure out. Especially how she works with Elara in a mission capacity. In the next chapter we are getting some Obi-Wan pov! He's got a lot he's been thinking about, what with both he and Elara putting some distance between them (and the end of this chapter). I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
MalirBly: Elara and Ahsoka are going to be quite the pair! Anakin beware, honestly, because if both of them and Padmé gang up on him… there's no escaping. And, oh, just wait until something happens to Elara's lightsaber; Anakin is going to have a joyous time teasing her about it. I'm glad you liked the bit about them exercising their Force Bond! Thought it was a good opportunity to do so. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
thenerdnextdoor: Ahh, I'm so glad you liked the last chapter! I was ify on it, because writing Ahsoka is still new to me. But you're absolutely right! Ahsoka's bright excitement is definitely getting Elara to lighten up some. She's sort of serving as a reminder that beyond the horrors of war, there are still good things in the galaxy. And I'm really glad Ahsoka is reading well! There was some more (hopefully) top tier sibling teasing in this chapter, and it's always so fun to write. And, yeah, Ep. III is a-comin'... and it's gonna be painful no matter what happens. And Elara and Obi-Wan have finally reached true Regency pining. Just the simple touch of a hand is swoon worthy. And Elara really is out there being the uber responsible one… and we'll see what Obi-Wan's thoughts are on that next chapter ;) And, yeah! My dad was in both the navy and the army, and I've had members in the military traceable back to before WWI. I've also got a massive collection of military pamphlets and letters from soldiers––including some stuff from Scotland! But it's certainly lent itself to this story! It's kind of been a way to express my interest in the subject, 'cause I don't really have anyone to talk about it with. I'm so happy you're enjoying the story so much! Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
jedani: Ahsoka and Elara being the 'to the rescue' crew is probably something that's going to happen a lot. They're gonna start keeping score of how many times they save Anakin and Obi-Wan from sticky situations. And Anakin absolutely walks into getting teased. Oh, Elara's vision of Darth Carus from her trials has never left her. She thinks of it often, especially the stronger her feelings get. And it's certainly a vision that's going to haunt her as things start to spiral. Because there are only a handful of people that could break her heart so thoroughly… and one of them is certainly bound to. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
RJNorth: I've always loved the deleted scene from Ep. III with the bizarro land hand signals. Without the context of the Clone Wars it's almost too weird, but once you consider how cocksure these two men were in the war? Makes perfect sense. And I can totally see Elara and Ahsoka creating some of their own! Especially if it leaves Anakin and Obi-Wan in a state of confusion. I find early days Ahsoka more difficult to conceptualize and write. Because she really is so young, and that attitude mixed with having to fight a war is tricky. But she'll definitely start noticing the grey areas of being a Jedi and of being a soldier, soon. Next chapter we'll get some Obi-Wan pov; and he'll definitely have noticed that Elara's demanor has changed, especially how her easy tendency to touch an arm or hand has diminished. And, oh, Elara is going to have so many questions about Satine––Satine about Elara. They're going to have such conversations. And poor Anakin's going to be standing there on the sidelines like 'what is happening?' I'm happy you liked the 'a man who told her he'd be trouble with his smile' bit! It was the first thing I thought Elara would have noticed about him. A charming, brilliant smile––which has only gotten wider and brighter over the years. And, ugh, yes, so many of the Star Wars men just have the best smiles. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again! And may the Force be with you!
bambam411: Ahh, thank you so much! And you're absolutely right to wonder about the pirates and the bounty––because, surely, they must know about it… or might find out about it. Especially because some of these pirates really want to take what they can get. I'm doing well thank you, and hope you're doing well, too! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Nerdette92: Thank you so much! I've been trying to make sure everyone is as true to character as I can get them! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
the7horcrux: I'm so glad that you've enjoyed the story so much! I've worked really hard to make sure that Elara's got her flaws and her differing opinions and such. Because even though she's been trained as a Jedi, she still lived a decent portion of her life being able to love freely, feel anger freely, form attachments freely––so that's going to give her some opinions about it all that are generally unpopular with most Jedi. And I've had a lot of fun figuring out Elara's association with the Dark Side––having a kind of predisposition to it, but also fighting against it with all that she's got. And Elara could never be totally emotionless; for above mentioned reasons and many others. Fighting a war is never an affair of a lack of emotion––it's, perhaps, one of the most emotionally driven events possible. So drop Elara into the middle of that, and… boy howdy. Anyway, I'm so glad you've enjoyed the story so much! All the reviews you left as you read were lovely to read. Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
And thank you to those who added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!
And there we have it! Next up is "The Gungan General." This story is really ramping up to hte parts I've been itching to write, and I'm so excited for it! Thank you all again! Y'all rock!
~Mary
