Hi, Moonscribe again! Just wanted to say thanks to all who have reviewed my fanfic so far. Again, it's greatly appreciated and very much an inspiration to me to keep writing! Glad you have enjoyed the story so far and hope you keep reading. Take care and May the Force be With You.
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Chapter Forty
Two days after Nadira's excursion to the bazaar, Aalea gazed moodily out the window of the princess' chamber. Sylvonna was a beautiful world with its towering gold capped minarets and crystalline ruby and emerald towers, but it was all becoming a bit much.
She hated to admit it, but she was looking forward to Obi-Wan's return from Tarkasia. Not that she wanted to be subjected to anymore of his dreary lectures on Jedi decorum, but at least he was---and Aalea grimaced as Nadira and her handmaidens burst into another round of squealing laughter---quiet.
"Jedi Aalea, come away from that window right this minute," Nadira cried petulantly. "You have been staring out it for hours."
Aalea sighed and turned back to the room. It hadn't been hours, only a few minutes but Nadira, like all the Sylvonnans, had a habit of blowing everything out of proportion.
The princess was sitting on the floor, her handmaidens gathered about her. They were playing some silly game called dom-drops which, as far as Aalea could see, involved nothing more than moving brightly colored circular pieces across a board made up of a dizzying array of blue and red lines.
"Do not worry, Jedi Aalea. He will be back soon," Nadira said as Aalea walked over, crossed her legs and sat next to the princess.
"Who?" Aalea asked.
Nadira moved one of her pieces across the board.
"Jedi Obi-Wan. I am thinking you are missing him very much."
"I am certainly not missing him very much, your highness. I can assure you of that."
Nadira looked over at Aalea, her green eyes twinkling.
"I do not believe you. How can you not be missing such a pretty fellow?"
"Oh, it's not difficult, your highness. Trust me."
"Jedi Aalea, you are so very funny. You say one thing with your mouth and another thing with your eyes."
Nadira then sucked on her finger, studied the board for a moment, then quickly reached over and moved her piece.
"Dom-drop!" she cried.
The handmaidens clapped and congratulated Nadira at having won another game. Aalea sighed. Nadira won all the games because, Aalea suspected, the handmaidens let her win.
"What do you mean, your highness, my eyes say another thing?" she asked.
"Well," Nadira said as she watched the handmaidens set the board up for another game, "you speak as if you do not care for Jedi Obi-Wan and yet, when you look at him there is something different in your eyes."
Aalea scoffed at that and shook her head.
Nadira looked over at Badalah.
"Is it not true, Badalah, that the eyes are the mirrors of the heart?"
"Yes, that is very true, poppet," Badalah nodded sagely from her chair where she sat working on Nadira's wedding-night gown.
"So, as I told you the other day," Nadira went on, "I am thinking that you are of two pieces. That what is in your heart," and she reached over and touched Aalea on her chest, "has not traveled to your head." She stroked Aalea's forehead. Then she touched Aalea's throat. "It is jammed here by all the words you speak which you do not mean."
Aalea's lips puckered with irritation. Nonsense. Nadira was suggesting Aalea didn't know her own mind. But she did. She had no feelings for Obi-Wan other than her annoyance at his continued lording of his authority over her.
Princess Nadira thought he was, as she put it, 'a pretty fellow' and, Aalea had to admit, though grudgingly, he wasn't bad looking. He did have nice eyes.
Aalea tilted her head and a corner of her mouth quirked up. That dimple in his chin was kind of cute, too. She laid her hand on her cheek. And she was very much aware of the talk about the Temple that Obi-Wan had the potential to become a great Jedi Knight. Maybe one of the greatest ever.
Aalea quickly shook her head, put her hand back in her lap and frowned darkly. However, on the other hand, he was also a smug, bossy, know-it-all.
"Forgive me, your highness," Aalea said to Nadira who had been intently watching the emotions flitting across Aalea's face. "But you are mistaken. My heart and my head are one. Obi-Wan is nothing more to me than a fellow Jedi." She shrugged. "We're not even friends. We have absolutely nothing in common."
Well, that wasn't entirely true, Aalea thought. There was their Force bond, but Nadira didn't need to know about that.
"He's rude, arrogant, and quite full of himself," Aalea went on, her voice rising. "And he also thinks he's so...." She stopped for Nadira and her handmaidens were laughing hysterically.
"What is so funny, your highness?"
Nadira gasped through her laughter.
"Oh, you are, Jedi Aalea, you are! What is the line from that play, Badalah?"
"The lady doth protest too much," Badalah answered promptly.
"Yes, that is it. You protest too much, Jedi Aalea." Nadira reached over and put her hand on Aalea's knee, squeezing it warmly. "Who are you trying to convince that you do not care for Jedi Obi-Wan? Me or yourself?"
Aalea took a deep breath.
"Your highness, please forgive my impertinence, but this is a conversation which I would respectfully request we drop. Obi-Wan Kenobi means nothing to me. Nothing."
Nadira tilted her head and gazed silently at Aalea, a small smile on her lips. She then glanced over at Badalah, who shrugged her meaty shoulders, shook her head and went back to working on Nadira's wedding night-gown.
"I was hoping, Jedi Aalea, that--wait, what is the saying, Badalah?"
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Yes, I was hoping that with Jedi Obi-Wan's absence, your heart would have become fonder for him, but I am seeing that is not the case." Nadira sadly shook her head. "I am thinking that I will not be giving to you the Attar of Love anytime soon. You Jedi are terribly stubborn I am discovering."
"Your highness, I really don't think you know---," but then Aalea decided it wasn't worth it. She could see that if anyone was being stubborn it was Nadira for insisting that there was something between her and Obi-Wan when there was most certainly not. She decided to change the subject.
"Your highness, what is this Attar of Love? Why is it so rare?"
Nadira's face brightened. She looked over at Badalah.
"Shall I tell her the story, Badalah, or would you like to?"
"You tell her, poppet."
Nadira nodded and scooted closer to Aalea.
"Once, long ago, there was a beautiful deer-maiden named Jashala. She lived near the mountains of Halina and there she tended her flocks of deer. One day a young prince by the name of Khial was hunting in the forests and he came upon Jashala. He took one look at her and feel deeply in love. But, because she was only a commoner, his parents forbade him from marrying her.
"Khial went back to his silver palace, but he was very sad and would not eat or sleep. His parents cried and cried, begging Khial to eat, to sleep, but he would not. Finally, one day he died from grief."
Nadira sighed and Aalea saw tears in her eyes. The princess wiped them away quickly and went on with the story.
"Jashala learned of the death of the prince and it broke her heart. She sat upon the side of the mountain of Halina and wept and, it is said, for every tear she shed which fell upon the ground from it sprouted a golden flower which we call Jashala in memory of her. When Jashala could no longer bear her sorrow over the death of her love, she threw herself off the mountain of Halina. When she died, all the golden flowers died, except one. That is why they are so rare, Jedi Aalea. And it is from the Jashala flower that the Attar of Love is made."
Aalea found herself touched by the story although she also knew it was nothing more than a myth created, as most myths were, to explain the mysteries of nature.
"But what does this Attar of Love do?" Aalea asked and then wished she had not. She was afraid Nadira was going to start prattling about how it prolonged the act of love or something of that nature.
"Well, actually, I have never made use of it, Jedi Aalea. As I said, we were very lucky to even find it. But, it is said that when a woman wears it and the man who loves her inhales its scent, he and she are joined together forever and that not even the veil of death will separate them."
Aalea sat still for a moment for, as Nadira had spoken, she had felt a shiver across her spine, as if cold fingers had been laid upon her back. She looked across at the princess and saw, to her surprise, pity and sympathy in Nadira's eyes.
Aalea shook herself. All of this had nothing to do with her. It was just a story.
"Thank you for sharing that, your highness."
"You are very welcome, Jedi Aalea," Nadira said as she turned back to the dom-drop board. "Now, since I have told you a story, I order you to tell me a story in pleasant exchange."
"A story? About what?"
"I do not know. A true story. Tell me about your parents."
"My parents? I never knew them. I was an orphan."
Nadira and her handmaidens suddenly stopped moving their game pieces and stared at Aalea. Even Badalah looked wide-eyed over at her.
"An orphan?" Nadira gasped. Tears welled in her large green eyes. "Oh, poor, poor Jedi Aalea," Nadira cried and with that she burst into sobs, dropping her face into her hands.
Soon all the handmaidens were crying and even Badalah was weeping.
Aalea looked around her in shock. What had brought this on? She had not gotten used to how emotional the Sylvonnans were.
She reached over and patted Nadira's shoulder.
"It's all right, your highness. Please, don't cry."
Nadira lifted her head and gazed back at Aalea, her face wet with tears.
"I did not know, Jedi Aalea," she bawled. "Parentless! Oh, how you must miss them!"
"I never knew them, your highness. Master Qui-Gon found me when I was a baby and brought me to the Jedi Temple."
The handmaidens and Badalah were wiping at their eyes and gazing mournfully over at Aalea.
Nadira sniffled. "Master Qui-Gon? Who is he?"
Aalea settled herself more comfortably on the floor.
"Master Qui-Gon is a Jedi," she began eagerly, "but he is the greatest Jedi of them all."
"What does he look like?" Nadira asked as she wiped her face with a silk handkerchief one of the handmaidens had given her. "Is he pretty like Jedi Obi-Wan?"
Aalea shook her head vigorously.
"He's not pretty, your highness. He's handsome and tall and strong and kind. He's not a boy like Obi-Wan. He's a man."
Badalah had come over and taken Nadira into her arms. She looked over at Aalea.
"Well, why didn't he come with you instead of that pup?"
"He's on another mission with Cian. The Council wanted Obi-Wan to get some practice being a master and such."
"You mean he's not a real master?" Badalah asked.
"No, but while we're on this mission, I have to treat him as if he were one." Aalea grimaced.
"I knew it," Badalah nodded. "That pup! Still got milk on his chin and throwing his weight around as if he were the bull of the herd."
Aalea smiled. She was relieved to see that Badalah, the handmaidens and Nadira had recovered from their crying bout. She would have to be more careful about what she said from here on. It wouldn't do for Obi-Wan to come back and find that, unwittingly, she'd committed some other illegal act. For all she knew, making the Rose of Sylvonna cry could be grounds for being boiled in oil.
"Who is this Cian person you were speaking of who is on the mission with Jedi Qui-Gon?" Nadira asked.
"Cian? Cian Nyal is my best friend and the mother and sister I never had."
"Ah," Nadira sighed. "I am so very happy you have such a one in your life, Jedi Aalea. Is she pretty like you?"
Aalea shook her head and smiled. "She's not pretty, your highness. She's beautiful."
"Then that is the story I want you to tell, Jedi Aalea," Nadira said. "Tell us about the handsome Jedi Qui-Gon and the beautiful Cian Nyal."
And so Aalea told Nadira, Badalah and the handmaidens the story of how she and Cian once saved Qui-Gon from the evil spirit of a long-dead Lord of Darkness.
To be continued....