[Obi-wan]

Roaming his new quarters he spent his time carefully searching it from top to bottom. Besides the obvious he found extra linens in the chest at the end of the bed, writing materials in the first bedside drawer, and what might have been some kind of game board in the other bedside drawer. There were extra candles, which gave off a faint scent of citrus, and the tinder one might use to light a fire in the fireplace. The armoire was empty but he had his suspicions that it would be filled quickly once the tailors had a moment to take his measurements.

That left the bookshelves.

As he had been told the books closest to the fireplace were written in Basic. Pulling a few off the shelf his brows rose when he recognized the titles. There were copies of famous Nabooian plays, philosophical treatise from Alderaan, poems from Kalevala, and there were even two historical accounts from Coruscant. Nothing to do with the Jedi, of course, but the first historical account was about the founding of Coruscant and seemed to include details he had never seen before. He looked at the rest of the shelf, which contained journals and maps, then glanced at the other shelf filled with works written in Mando'a.

It looked like the warrior king had a wide range of taste in literature.

Taking the book in hand he sat down in one of the large chairs and began to read. It wasn't like there was anything else to do. Even meditation eluded him since he'd lost his connection with the Ether.

An unspecified time later there was a knock at the door. He waited a moment but when no one came inside he realized they were waiting for permission.

Royal wing indeed.

"Enter!" He called, hoping that it was only another servant or perhaps his Highness Cody come to speak with him again. Although with how excited the younger princes had been to see their brother and father he doubted the crown prince would be able to get away any time soon.

The servant from earlier opened the door and ushered in three others carrying buckets of steaming water. Marking his page Obi-wan set the book down on the low table and stood, desperately wanting to put his hands in his sleeves to hide his nerves but being unable to. The style of sleeves the Mandalorians favored were far too slim for such things.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Alor, but we were ordered to bring you water for a bath. Your new clothes will be ready soon." The servant stated simply.

Obi-wan watched the servants go over to the large bath in the corner of the room and fill it with steaming water. One of them slipped a pouch off their waist as well and dumped what looked like petals into warm water. When they were finished they gave him polite nods and quickly filed back out of the room.

He was still staring in confusion when the lone servant left in the room coughed to catch his attention.

"Is there… a reason for all this?" He asked when his mind finally caught up to his surprise.

"There is a banquet tonight to welcome his Majesty and his Highness home. As a new addition to Clan Fett you will also be expected to attend. I was ordered to make you presentable, since you will be sitting at the high table with the royal family." The man said clearly, a look of what might have been sympathy entering his gaze. "For now, let us get you clean."

Obi-wan's ears flushed in embarrassment as the servant gestured to the tub. He didn't make a fuss as he stripped down to nothing, even if he was uncomfortable being so vulnerable around a complete stranger.

Climbing into the tub he hissed at the temperature of the water and had to give himself a moment to adjust before carefully sitting down. The water felt nice against his skin as a gentle, refreshing, scent wafted up with the steam. There were indeed flower petals in his water and as he picked one up to examine it the servant moved behind him.

"These flowers are good for the skin and promote calmness of mind. I hope it is to your liking, Alor." Flinching slightly when the man spoke he turned to look back at him.

"Will you… be here during the entirety of my lavation?" He wondered aloud, hoping he didn't sound too clearly uncomfortable.

"I am here to help you, since I was told you are still a little… ill from your transformation. In fact it was Baar'ur Vhipirla who suggested the flowers." Obi-wan wanted to sigh in exasperation. The healer woman was taking things a little far, in his humble opinion. He was fine. They'd just spent a week on horseback to arrive at Concordia and he had not felt weak even once.

"I appreciate the care you are taking with me, however… I-" There was a small chuckle from behind him before the servant came back into view holding a tray.

"Here is the soap, Alor. I will be on the other side of the screen with your drying cloths once you are finished. If you begin to tire or have any difficulty please do not hesitate to call upon me for aid." Hooking the tray onto the outside of the bath the man gave a polite nod before vanishing behind the privacy screen.

Obi-wan let out a relieved sigh and slipped further into the hot water. Now that his body was adjusting to the temperature it was quite relaxing, and the scent of the flowers was very pleasant. Calming in a way that reminded him of incense from the temple.

On the tray was a small bar of soap and two corked bottles. He knew what the soap was for, obviously, and suspected the first bottle was for his hair. It was the second bottle that had him curious.

"Do excuse me, but, can you tell me what the two bottles contain?" Better to ask, he thought, than assume.

"The bottle with the green tie is for washing your hair. The bottle with the red tie is for your skin once you come out of the bath. The soap can be a little coarse, and Baar'ur Vhipirla insisted that the oil would ease the last of your aches." There was a short pause. "If you would like assistance with the oil-"

"Th-that's very kind of you!" He said quickly, the warm feeling in his face having little to do with the temperature of the water. "But I will manage on my own, thank you."

"As you wish, Alor." There was laughter in that voice, he could hear it. His ears were sharper than most of his crechemates and even some masters, save for Master Windu whose hearing seemed even better than his own.

Deciding it was best to wash before the servant became overzealous he untied his hair and dunked his head under the water. Coming back up once he ran out of air he stood and reached for the soap. A quick run over his body with the soap and a rinse later he was running his fingers through his long hair. In the water the color darkened further, to that of freshly spilled blood, and it made him shudder. All of the golden highlights were now gone, leaving behind a curtain of red.

With a final rinse to clean the soap from his hair he levered himself out of the bath and stood shivering next to it. After ringing out his hair, trying not to drip all over the place, he peeked around the screen at the servant. "Ah, might I have-?"

With a smile the man handed over a couple of folded drying cloths, which Obi-wan did his best not to snatch from his hands as he quickly hid behind the screen again.

He heard another chuckle and grimaced at his own reactions in embarrassment. Honestly he was being silly. He should be fine with his body being seen, it was only a shell that housed the true spirit of a Jedi. And yet… without his connection to Ether he found himself not wanting to be seen. To hide away from these strange people who seemed perfectly accepting of his presence among them.

Once he was as dry as he could be he picked up the bottle with the red tie and popped the cork. The scent that wafted from the bottle was so nostalgic that it was almost painful. Tears sprang to his eyes, though he could not say why. There was something about the smell that reminded him of home, though he was certain he had never smelled anything like it before.

"Alor? Are you well?" He startled slightly, forgetting that the servant was still waiting on the other side of the privacy screen.

"I'm fine, thank you for your concern." He managed to say, voice surprisingly calm.

Tipping some of the oil onto his hand he quickly began working it into his skin. Thankfully, due to his training in flexibility and dexterity, he was able to get the hard to reach places on his own and had no need to ask the servant for help.

Halfway through he heard a knock on the door and paused, ears twitching slightly. "Kute be'alor." Came the low murmur.

"Jate," the servant replied. Then he heard the door shut.

"Is something amiss?" He asked as nonchalantly as he could.

"No, Alor. Someone was just delivering your clothing. It seems they had something pre-prepared and only needed a little more time before presenting it to you." There was a note of pride in the servant's voice and Obi-wan had to hold in a sigh.

He appreciated that he would have clothes to wear but he suspected it would also be in the Mandalorian style, which was to say it would cling uncomfortably to his body.

"Do you prefer your hair tied back or loose, Alor?" The servant asked, cutting through his idle thoughts.

Obi-wan paused at the question. "It… depends on the occasion." He answered truthfully. "When I am traveling, fighting, or working I prefer it to be tied back. I tend to leave it loose for more casual settings." Like when he and his crechemates planned a small get together and they each took turns brushing his long hair. Apparently it had a calming effect on them and so he let them do what they wished.

"And for banquets?" The servant pressed.

"I… have only ever attended a banquet as an extra guard." He admitted quietly.

"Hm. I'll see what I can do, then." Came a faint mutter from the other side of the screen.

Finished with the oil he quickly washed his hands and dried them on the cloths as well. Peeking around the screen once more he held out the damp linens. "Where do I-?"

"Ah, just leave it next to the bath, Alor, someone will deal with it soon." With a quick smile the man held out a bundle of clothing for him to take. "The Mand'al'verde, that is Sir Myles, said that you were… unfamiliar with our clothing. I won't pry, Alor, but I hope you will allow me to adjust anything that is out of place." There was a serious tone in his voice now. "There are certain customs surrounding one's clothing and armor that a verd'ika would not be well acquainted with. I would be remiss in my duty if I did not stop a misunderstanding before it began."

A little shaken by the seriousness of the words he took the clothing and ducked back behind the screen once more. "What… kinds of misunderstandings?"

"There are few. But thankfully the white trim on your clothing should stop anyone from taking offense. It is a mark that you are new to us and still learning." The man soothed.

Sure enough when he looked down at the clothes in his hands there was white embroidery along the collar, sleeves, and hem of the deep blue tunic. With a small sigh he quickly dressed in the under clothes. Those at least he needed no aid with.

The under-tunic was undyed and, as he thought, hugged his arms in a manner he found uncomfortable though it did not hinder his movement any. Tying the likewise undyed hose to his braes he looked at the tunic with some trepidation. Lifting it up it unfurled and he was finally able to look it over properly. The garment had sleeves that stopped before his elbow and were surprisingly wide, while the length of it stopped just short of his knees. Slipping it on he found it was quite loose, save for the tapering at the waist. The breeches were simple, black, and tied just below the knee. Thankfully they did not balloon outward, like the ones he had seen on high class nobles he and his Knight Master had seen in the Kalevalan court.

What finally tripped him up was the multiple buttons and clasps on the pale gray doublet, not to mention the strangeness of the belt. After a moment of trying to figure it out himself he finally admitted defeat and came around the other side of the privacy screen.

The servant perked up slightly and gave him a bright smile. "Allow me, Alor." He said politely as he stepped forward.

Obi-wan handed him the doublet and belt, flushing slightly at the idea of needing help to dress himself. He was not an initiate, he was an adult for Ether's sake!

"If I may, Alor?" The man said, with a look of understanding. "You are not the first who has been unfamiliar with this." As he spoke he slipped the doublet over Obi-wan's arms. "There have been other… former Jetiise, who shared the same troubles."

Obi-wan't head rose so fast from where he was watching the man's hands that he swore he'd made himself dizzy. "O-other Jedi?"

The man was quiet for a moment. "Yes." Looking up with vibrant yellow eyes he hesitated a moment. "There are quite a few in my Clan, most of them are children who lost their elder Jetii parent and were rescued. Others were wounded, moments from death, and were saved. My… sister's child is one of these." He looked away again. "But I've said too much. Once one becomes Mando'ade their past no longer has any bearing on their future. I had only thought that you might find some… comfort in the fact that you are not the first to have trouble with this."

While he was a little shaken by the idea that there were other Jedi who had been kidnapped by the Mandalorians he did find himself feeling a little less foolish about his lack of knowledge. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't that big a deal and he had plenty of opportunities to learn how to do this himself, considering he would be wearing these clothes from that moment onward.

"Thank you, um…" Oh, and now he felt quite terrible. He hadn't even asked the man his name.

"Trac'atin Gaarla, I serve the Clan of the Mand'alor." The man said simply.

"Thank you, Trac'atin." The name was a little difficult to pronounce but the pleased smile the man directed his way had him smiling in turn.

Once the doublet was in place the man reached behind him and secured the belt. There were a couple of loops and an attachment that might be fore a sword but he didn't believe they would return his weapon so soon.

"There you are, Alor, just one last thing." Turning he picked up another garment of the same shade of gray as the doublet and Obi-wan cocked his head in curiosity. Letting the fabric unroll he realized with trepidation that it was a cloak.

But not the kind he was familiar with.

The cloak was slimmer than the kind the Jedi used to cover themselves when out on a mission, as well as being shorter. There were strange metal clasps on it as well that confused him.

Trac'atin circled behind him and reached up to his shoulders. Along the collar area of the doublet there were small metal pieces that obi-wan had assumed were for decoration. But as the servant attached the cloak to them with matching clasps on the hanging fabric he realized they were meant specifically for the cloak. A silver chain with talon-like pins were attached to the front of the cloak over his chest, an accessory and nothing more.

"There we are. Now all that's left is your hair, Alor. Come, sit, and I will finish quickly so you might return to your reading."

With a sigh he sat down on the chair indicated, trying not to fidget as unfamiliar hands ran through his red locks.

"I think I've come up with a compromise, if you'd permit me Alor."

"Well, you know more about Mandalorian fashion than I do. I will leave it up to your discretion." He said nervously. So far he had not seen anyone with particularly long hair, like his own. He hoped that did not mean it was the norm for hair to be shorn short.

"Hm." Fingers trailed through his hair near his temples and he forced himself to remain still. A brush ran through his hair gently and he startled before settling down again. The pull of the brush was familiar to him and after a couple of minutes he fell into a sort of trance.

"Alor?" Eyes snapping open he realized he had dozed off as he turned to look up at the servant. "I'm finished. Would you like to see?"

It took him a moment to remember what the man was talking about but when it finally clicked he nodded eagerly. The man smiled and pulled out a polished piece of metal that served as a mirror. Obi-wan's eyes widened in surprise. His hair had been gathered and braided around his head like a crown, starting at his temples. The rest was left hanging loosely behind him.

"It… it's beautiful." He said softly.

"I thought that this way you could move around without it hindering you, while also also allowing you to relax and enjoy yourself." It was a good compromise, he had to admit.

"Thank you, you've done an excellent job." He said sincerely.

"Think nothing of it, Alor. I have a child at home who insists on keeping their hair long as well. I've had a lot of practice." He chuckled. "Since I am now finished, however, I will take my leave. I shall return to escort you to the banquet hall when everything is ready." He gave a polite dip of the head rather than a bow and turned toward the door.

After the door closed behind the man Obi-wan slumped in his chair. This whole thing had been an ordeal and yet he felt bereft now that Trac'atin was gone. Reaching up he placed a hand against his chest and cringed when he tried, once more, to reach outward.

Once again Obi-wan was left entirely alone.

[Jango]

Alright, Jango could admit when he'd made a mistake.

Putting Piriik in charge of the kingdom's affairs while he was away dealing with the attempted coup had brought about some terrifying results. The least of which being the absolute death glare he received when he complained about how his paperwork had been re-organized.

"Your 'system' of organization was convoluted and inefficient at best." The man told him with a sniff of disdain, voice dry as the desert. Beside him Alphard snorted in amusement, a giant grin crossing his face as he watched his eldest son. "While you are the Mand'alor you chose to put Concordia, and by proxy the entirety of the kingdom, in my hands. I only did what should have been done years ago."

In any other kingdom someone speaking that way to their king would have been punished severely. But this was Mandalore. Rather than becoming upset Jango threw his head back and laughed. "Tell me how you really feel, ori'vod."

Piriik gave him an amused smile in return. "I will when you deign to actually listen, vod'ika."

"Have there been any problems while I was away?" He asked after a moment of amused silence.

"Nothing major. A couple of small Clan disputes, some requests for negotiations from smaller kingdoms near the border, and a report about the Princess of Kalevala that is… mildly troubling." He perked up at the last one, amber eyes narrowing slightly.

"What about it was troubling? Did the Princess not return safely?"

"No, quite the opposite in fact. Her carriage was met at the border by a group of Kalevalan guards… along with an older Jetii. A jetii who asked after your future spouse." Jango stiffened at the news, right hand clenching in anger.

"It seems that he is under the impression that we killed the future Rid'alor." Piriik gave Jango a searching look before continuing.

"Good. We can use it to our advantage." Jango stated firmly. "The Jetiise already believe the worst of us, what's one more rumor? If it keeps the older Jetii out of our kingdom all the better." He said with a wave of dismissal.

"Somehow I doubt this one Jetii is going to give up just like that. After all, the Princess knows about the Be'Manda behirot and what happened to your future spouse." Myles reminded him quietly.

"We'll deal with the problem if it ever arises. For now I want to spend time with all of my children before the banquet. If there are no pressing matters?" He asked the room.

"No, Alor. Nothing that cannot be dealt with tomorrow." Piriik said evenly.

"Then you are all dismissed. Someone send for Iljaad, I want to speak to him about security for tonight." The three of them saluted before leaving him alone in his office.

Jango let out a sigh as he turned toward the window, arms clasped behind his back.

All he wanted was the peaceful future that Jaster had always promised for his people. But as long as the spirit leeches still infected the bodies of unwitting hosts there would never be any true peace. Not with the Jetiise in their tall towers and the Dar'jetiise waiting in the darkness to enslave them all.

Laughter outside caught his attention and his severe expression softened at the sight of his sons. They were play-fighting under the watchful eye of Wad'e, Cody grinning at his younger brother as Rex attempted to rush him once more. The blonde landed on his backside with a squawk and Jango chuckled.

Heart lightened at the sight of his children he returned to reading the reports Piriik had made for him.

Time eluded him as he worked, the only interruption being a quick chat with Iljaad.

A knock at the door had him looking up in confusion. Setting down his quill he called out, "enter!" The door opened and Trac'atin Gaarla entered with a short bow.

"Mand'alor." He said serenely.

"How is he?" Jango asked without prompting.

"Your future spouse has been prepared for the banquet and is now reading quietly in his room."

Jango smiled. "Excellent! From today onward you will be assigned to him permanently, Zalla will take over your previous duties."

The man bowed again. "Of course, Mand'alor. I accept this duty wholeheartedly."

Jango hummed, looking over the mild mannered man for a moment. "What do you think of him, my future spouse?" He asked carefully.

Trac'atin blinked in surprise, a small frown wrinkling his brow. "I believe that he is… quite a gentle soul, Alor. A little overwhelmed but considering the circumstances that is not unexpected. But he is friendly enough. Certainly polite." The man went quiet, obviously finished with his observations.

Jango nodded, though he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He had expected a little more of the fiery redhead. But he supposed that the young man was still recovering from his transformation. For now he would give him time to adjust to his new life.

"Thank you. For now you may return to your new duties."

"Yes, Alor." The man said with another bow before leaving the way he came.

Yes, Jango thought to himself, now that Obi-wan was one of them there would be plenty of time to stoke the fire that dwelled within him.

Piriik Gaarla Ta'rayd (Ponds)- Male, Mandalorian, 45, twin of Adatoya (Fox) and son of Alphard (Alpha-17.)
Trac'atin Gaarla (Wildfire)- Male, Mandalorian, 67.

AN 1: So my laptop is broken once more. I really am cursed with Gremlins who love nothing more than to destroy any technology I touch. This time it is the screen that refuses to work. With the keyboard needing to be replaced as well this now brings the repair costs up to about $600 and the probability that I won't have a laptop soon to about 95%.

AN 2: Hello all, it's been a while.

Some of you may have noticed that I was gone for a bit there. A few things happened in real life that made taking a break very important for my mental and physical health.

I don't think anyone has been keeping count like I have but over the past 3 years I have written over 900k words. That's about 18 novels in 3 years. Most paid authors only manage an average of 1 novel every 3 years.

I was burnt out and stressed from the amount of people asking me for more, more, more. So from now on I will not be responding or accepting comments asking me for Updates. If I see them I will delete them as necessary. I'm not a machine, and my health is important.

Thank you for your attention.