Chapter Forty-Eight

The next morning after her and Qui-Gon's return from Shiro's villa, Cian walked alone in the gardens of the Residence Hall. Her thoughts were, as they had been all night, on Qui-Gon. She had not seen him since their arrival late yesterday afternoon at the capital. Both had retired to their separate suites and Cian had her dinner brought to her rooms for she'd wanted to be alone. She'd needed time to sort out her feelings.

Now, after having spent most of the night thinking about it, she had made her decision. Once the mission to Jalat was over, she was going to contact Jeffron and tell him she could not marry him; not because she still harbored some girlish fantasy she could win Qui-Gon's heart, for she now knew that would never happen.

No, it was because Finis and Vati were right. It would not be fair to Jeffron to marry him when she truly did not love him. The man she loved, the man she would love until the last breath left her body, was already spoken for. The Force had his heart.

Cian walked down a path which took her to a small shaded nook within the garden. She sat on a stone bench. She then closed her eyes and, as Qui-Gon had shown her, opened herself up to the Force. It never spoke to her as it did to him, but she was aware of it. It flowed through her like some great river, strong and clean and fresh.

As Cian let herself fall within the Force, she became acutely aware of the life that surrounded her; earthworms burrowing through the soil, bees and butterflies drifting among the flowers, birds nestling in the boughs of the trees.

Life enclosed and enfolded her; pulsating, throbbing, beating, fluttering, thrumming. And there, just at the edge, she felt him. Qui-Gon. Not his thoughts or his feelings, for there was no bond between them as existed between Aalea and Obi-Wan, but she sensed him, his life force like a flame, bright and strong.

Cian sighed. She hadn't been very nice to him yesterday and, even though she knew she could never win his love he was still, she hoped, her friend. And she also missed him. Terribly.

Cian quickly stood. Just as she was about to leave the garden in search of him, she heard a voice behind her.

"Forgive me, Mistress Nyal."

Cian turned. It was one of the Residence Hall servants. He bowed deeply then gestured to a young Jalatan who stood next to him.

"This one has asked permission to speak to you."

The servant stepped back, bowed again, and quickly left the garden.

Cian looked at the young man. She wasn't able to discern his caste for he was wearing a plain white jacket and trousers. He bowed deeply to her.

"Thank you for seeing me, Mistress Nyal. My name is Tydre. I am Chief Priest Rukal's aide. He asked me to come and invite you to meet with him. He would like to discuss the upcoming Council vote on whether to establish relations with the Republic."

"Really? When would he like to meet?"

Tydre cleared his throat, glanced quickly around.

"Now, Mistress Nyal."

"Now? Oh, well, let me see if I can find Qui-Gon."

Tydre moved a step closer to Cian.

"I'm sorry, Mistress Nyal, you do not understand," he said quickly. "Salu Rukal will only meet with you." He smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid my master is still a bit uncomfortable around the Jedi."

Cian hesitated for a moment. She recalled the disturbance in the Force both she and Qui-Gon had sensed at the audience hall and their speculation Rukal had been the source. She looked closely at Tydre. He gazed calmly back at her. She mentally shrugged. More than likely what she had felt had only been Rukal's apprehension about Qui-Gon.

"Mistress Nyal, my master has a very tight schedule. If you wish to meet with him, we must leave now."

"Yes, of course. Will I need to arrange transport?"

"No, all has been arranged." He then bowed and gestured for her to precede him out of the garden.

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Qui-Gon slowly opened his eyes and gently increased his breathing. He had spent the early part of the morning in deep meditation.

The late morning sun poured through the windows of his chamber. He stood, stretched, and noticed with some chagrin there was a stitch in a muscle of his upper back. He worked the muscle about until the stitch eased. Then he walked from his bedchamber into the sitting room.

He glanced at the comlink on the table to see if Cian had left him a message, but there was nothing. She must still be upset.

Qui-Gon stood for a moment, his thoughts churning. Last night, unasked for but undeniable, he had dreamt of her; had dreamt they were making love, her lips soft and warm on his, her slender arms about his neck, her sighs of pleasure like a summer breeze across his face.

And as he had held her and loved her, the dream had seemed so real that, when he had awakened, his lips had tingled from the memory of her kiss. But, it had only been a dream. He and Cian were not nor had ever been lovers. They had yet to even share a kiss.

Qui-Gon sighed and drew on his robe. As much as he suspected it would not be wise to do so, he had to see her. He quickly left his suite.

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Cian gazed out the windows of the shuttle. Tydre had told her Rukal wanted to meet with her at his private citadel in Jholan province. As she looked down at the neatly tended fields of the province, she was once again struck by the beauty of this world. If she could convince Rukal that relations with the Republic would benefit and enrich the religious caste, this beautiful world and its lovely people would be a wonderful addition to the Republic.

She turned back to Tydre who was watching her, his expression unreadable.

"How long have you been the Chief Priest's aide?"

"These last four turns. My parents were killed in the flooding of the Year of the Dying Crane. The religious caste took me in."

"I'm so very sorry for your loss, Salu Tydre." Cian reached over and put her hand over his and squeezed it warmly.

Tydre glanced down at her hand on his, then back at her, his eyes wide and full of surprise. Then, he shook his head.

"There is no need for sorrow, Mistress Nyal. It was the will of the Syad that my parents died. If they had not, I would never have been taken in by Salu Rukal."

Cian wasn't sure how to respond to that. When she was young she had lost her parents in a starliner explosion, but she had never thought it was the will of the Force or anything that they had died. But she supposed for some, finding meaning in what she could only see as a tragic accident was of some comfort. She nodded and removed her hand.

"How much longer before we arrive at the citadel?"

"Not long. You are eager to meet my master?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

Tydre gazed back at her, his dark orange eyes piercing. "He is also eager to meet you, Mistress Nyal."

Cian nodded and turned back to looking out the window. Her thoughts returned to Qui-Gon. She had wanted to leave a message informing him of her meeting with Rukal, but Tydre had insisted they had to leave right away. Once she arrived at the citadel she would ask that a message be sent to Qui-Gon letting him know where she was and when she would be back.

To be continued....