Chapter Nine

When I was very young, my sister Sola complained that I was a thief in the night. I stole all the room in the bed we shared as well as the blankets. Old habits seem to die hard, because each morning, my own bed was a mess. The covers were twisted and tangled together, as well as my nightgown and hair. The longer my locks grew, the more necessary it became to braid them or else they would be in knots in the morning. This morning, was no different and I came awake in the middle of the bed when I had begun on the left side, and there wasn't a single cover on me.

Even with my eyes still closed, I could tell it was early. The sun hadn't even risen yet, which gave me time to relax and think over the events of the past couple of days.

Now that the worries of the Suŗa had passed, I could get on with my duties as Queen and my life otherwise as normally as I could. With the exception of a lingering presence by my side. An idea, I still wasn't comfortable with.

However, the three hours Master Jinn had spent telling me everything he knew about Obi-Wan Kenobi had helped me make up my mind. During our conversation, I'd discovered the two of us actually had some things in common. During his youth, Obi-Wan had been ridiculed, bullied, and neglected due to his smaller stature. Qui-Gon himself had nearly passed him by were it not for the Force literally creating a training bond between the two of them before he'd even accepted him as an apprentice. He'd told me Obi-Wan was strong-willed and stubborn, but honest and devoted. I would never find a more faithful bodyguard or friend.

Qui-Gon told me about his first padawan, a boy by the name of Xanatos, who left the Order after a misunderstanding and gave into the hatred that had filled his heart. Obi-Wan was a talented Jedi, he had said, and even though he didn't necessarily believe everything about this as Yoda did, he did not want to risk losing another apprentice to the Dark Side.

He explained what would happen should I refuse to be his sobatí; how Obi-Wan would lose his way, he would have no clear path, would most likely come to regret his decision, and open himself up to evil influences. It was a daily struggle for the Jedi. Apparently, the Darkness sought them out constantly and tried to suffocate the Light which they fought so hard to protect.

I wasn't sure if I believed everything Qui-Gon had told me, but he had been so sincere when he'd said it. And when he spoke of the possibility of losing Obi-Wan to the Dark Side, his eyes had filled with tears and his voice had become rough with emotion.

He wouldn't get it my way, he promised. He was trained to be stealth and if I chose it, I would never see nor hear him. It was up to me. But if the time came, Obi-Wan would sacrifice his life to save mine without hesitation.

Through his sincere pleas, Qui-Gon had changed my mind and I promised him I would accept. The relief upon the older man's face was immediate. He was saddened to let his apprentice go, but it was time. He was proud Obi-Wan had come as far as he had and swore he would make an excellent Protector.

"Just give it time, Your Highness," he had told me. "Every change takes some getting used to."

As he would be returning back to Coruscant with Master Yoda that very evening following the Suŗa, we said our goodbyes. I thanked him for his service and asked him to come and visit us sometime.

He made no promises and I wondered if Obi-Wan would ever see him again.

I had replayed this entire conversation in my head within about ten minutes as I slowly came awake, enjoying what little luxury of relaxation I would have today. I still had to deal with the citizens who were waiting to see me from yesterday, and of course, there was Obi-Wan to consider. The two of us needed to sit down and have a long talk about what to expect – from both sides.

A ray of sunlight shot through the far windows of my bedroom and warned me that I was wasting my day and needed to get up. Lazily, I stretched before opening my eyes, and then jumped from fright and scooted backward all the way to the headboard. At the foot of my bed stood Obi-Wan, blushing slightly, with a shy grin upon his face.

"What?" I shouted in embarrassment before securing my nightgown about me to make sure all my secrets hadn't been revealed. I was decent, luckily for him. "What are you doing in here?"

"Good morning," he stated with a grin, despite my angry outburst. "I felt you were hungry, so I took the liberty of asking the kitchen staff to provide all your favorites."

Indeed, on a silver tray next to me in the bed was everything I could possibly imagine to eat. There was far too much of it, although he was right. It was everything I preferred.

"Don't be angry with me," he continued in a friendly tone. "Sabé let me in. I wanted to surprise you and hopefully make up for yesterday."

Make up for yesterday by sneaking in my room and spying on me in my sleep? Hold on. He was speaking! I was pleased about that, but still perturbed he had entered unannounced, and now I had to talk to Sabé as well.

"Do you not approve of the meal?"

"It's not that," I answered. "Would you mind handing me my robe?"

"Of course." Obi-Wan hurriedly retrieved the item I had hung over the back of the chair next to my bed and I quickly put it about my shoulders.

"Listen," I told him, once I felt more appropriately dressed. "This isn't going to work."

He looked as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

"My apologies," he said with a slight bow of his head. "I had hoped to start our day off well, since I know you have a lot on your mind."

And there was the other problem.

"Have a seat," I told him more as a command than anything. I wasn't going to make that a habit, but right now, I needed him to listen.

Thankfully, he did as I had suggested and placed himself at the far end of the bed. Before I started however, the tarts my personal chef had made were calling out my name and I quickly popped one into my mouth, its buttery crust quickly melting upon my tongue. So good. As a result, Obi-Wan had grinned, though he was smart enough to school his features immediately afterward.

"I'm going to be honest with you," I began. "Slavery isn't legal in the Republic. You aren't my slave and I won't have you waiting on me hand and foot. I prefer to eat first meal in the dining hall with my handmaidens so that we can plan out our day. You are welcome to join us. Not to stand behind me and stare, but to sit down with us and take part in the discussion."

"I appreciate that, Your Highness."

Didn't Qui-Gon say something about him being stubborn? I could tell this wasn't going to be easy.

"Stop all this formal nonsense. I'm not going to call you Knight Kenobi, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't call me Your Highness or Your Majesty when we're not in public."

He looked confused for a second as if he didn't know any other options. I quickly decided to help him out.

"My handmaidens call me Mi'Lady or Miss Amidala sometimes. You may call me Padmé, because that's my name."

A cute smirk lifted one side of his mouth before I continued.

"And I will call you Obi-Wan if that's all right."

He nodded his head in agreement. "Is that all?"

"No," I answered before eyeing the rest of the contents on the tray, choosing another pastry sprinkled with sugar. "Want some?" I offered.

"No, thank you. I've already eaten," he told me matter-of-factly.

I took a bite and drank some juice before continuing. "In my opinion, we are equals and I would like to be treated as such. If you will do that, I will do the same for you. You are my Protector, not my servant, my slave, or my personal assistant. I have eight assistants already. I don't need any more."

"Understood," he stated, gazing at me with gray-green eyes, "but you must also understand that I am more than that. I know your needs and your desires, your wants, and your wishes. I see your dreams, know when you're hungry or ill. In fact, you were very sick when you were young, around the age of six. I worried for you then since you were hospitalized for nearly a month. Thank the Force, you pulled through."

Was he serious? He had mentioned knowing everything about me, but how far back did that go?

"It was Plyridian fever," I informed him. "I contracted it during a relief mission to Osilla. What else do you know about me?"

"Quite a lot, actually," he said before I uncomfortably wriggled on the bed. "It's part of our bond and will be helpful in the future. If ever we're separated, I'll be able to locate you."

"Like a tracer?" I asked. "What am I? A beacon in your head?" This was all so strange!

"Something like that," he smiled just before I noted the sunlight had lifted onto the bed. I needed to get up and get dressed. No doubt I had an audience already waiting for me.

"And just so you'll know, you don't have to worry," he stated before rising, obviously realizing what I'd already thought.

"About what?" I asked naively.

"I won't make it a habit coming into your rooms unannounced. Regardless, you don't have to worry about me trying anything, uhm…inappropriate."

Heavens! Just how red was he trying to make my face this morning?

"It's forbidden."

Was he serious? Not that I wanted to, but what if say…somewhere down the road, after I was older of course; but what if I wanted to perhaps, let him kiss me?

His own face turned pink and I blushed even further upon realizing I had probably broadcasted everything I had just thought. We were going to have talk about that as well.

"Not until you've reached the age of maturity," he answered my unspoken question. "I believe it is eighteen in this sector."

"That's right," I agreed while trying to maintain some form of tranquility although I was dying inside.

"I'll see you in the throne room."

I watched him leave and then hid under my blankets. Just for a few minutes, I decided, at least until my face returned to its normal color.