TITLE: First Knight - Part Four
BY: Arwyn Whitesun
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"Master, I don't think I've ever seen you look better."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan growled, his eyes flashing a warning.
Anakin only laughed which, Obi-Wan noted with no small degree of irritation, his Padawan had done a lot of the past few hours. When Obi-Wan had reluctantly agreed to at least, ostensibly, go through with the blessing ceremony, Simtro, K'lia's manservant, had gone into hyperdrive, and Obi-Wan and Anakin's quarters in the Dynast's palatial home was soon filled with servants running to and fro as they prepared for the ceremony. Unfortunately, most of those preparations had centered around Obi-Wan.
The Jedi Knight had been bathed in scented water and massaged with exotic oils. The servants had trimmed his hair and beard, manicured his nails and had also tried, until Obi-Wan had finally had enough and shouted at them to leave him the Force alone or he would run them all through with his lightsaber, to kohl his eyes and curl his hair.
The sight of the terrified servants tripping over each other to get away from his master had sent Anakin into a paroxysm of laughter. Collapsing onto the couch, he had laughed so hard his face had turned bright red, tears had streamed from his eyes, and Obi-Wan had been certain he was going to bust a gut.
Which, considering how annoyed he had been with his Padawan, would not have upset Obi-Wan in the least. And, as he had watched Anakin rolling about on the couch, braying like a maddened gundark, Obi-Wan had decided that when next he saw Master Yoda he would suggest that another directive be added to the Code. A Jedi Shall Not Laugh. Now, Anakin seemed to have recovered enough of his Jedi dignity to at least have the good grace to only chuckle softly as he looked his master over now that the servants were done with him.
"No, really, Master. You look great."
Obi-Wan turned and looked at himself in the large mirror of his bedchamber. He frowned. He had insisted on wearing his Jedi clothes for the ceremony. The servants had, therefore, cleaned them while he had bathed and his boots had also been shined until they seemed to glow. His lightsaber hung from his belt, for he had also insisted on not being parted from it, but he could see no discernable change in his appearance. He turned back to Anakin.
"Hmmm, if you say so, Anakin. Now, where did Simtro get off to."
"He said he had to check on some final details with Lady Tsara."
Obi-Wan adjusted his tunic. "Lady Tsara? Who is she?"
"Don't know, Master. But Simtro said he'd return shortly."
"Well, I hope he doesn't take too long."
"Can't wait, eh, Master?"
"Anakin, I've told you before I absolutely have no desire to----" but before Obi-Wan could finish, Simtro dashed through the door.
"Master Jedi, we are almost ready," he said breathlessly.
"Good," Obi-Wan said. "The sooner we get this over, the better."
Anakin grinned over at Obi-Wan. "You know, if you like, Master, I'd be more than happy to take your place."
Obi-Wan saw that Simtro was about to protest, so he quickly cut him off.
"He's only kidding, I mean, joking, Simtro."
Obi-Wan turned to Anakin and signaled with his eyes that from now on he was to cease his antics. Anakin rolled his eyes, but nodded to show he would obey. Simtro bowed and gestured for Obi-Wan and Anakin to precede him out the door. The three made their way down a series of long corridors until they came to a large, ornately decorated door. Simtro opened it. The three entered and Anakin gasped.
Obi-Wan shared Anakin's astonishment. The room wasn't very big. Actually, it was quite small, but it was the contents of the room that drew one's attention. There was an unlit fireplace on the left. Next to it stood a bloodwood table upon which was a bottle of wine, two golden cups and a silver platter heaped with fruits, cheese and bread.
Dozens of candles provided the only illumination and bouquets of flowers were scattered about the room, their mingled scents causing Obi-Wan's head to spin. There was a large window to the right through which he could see the sun was nearly set, the warm palate of the amber and ginger-colored sky echoing the luxurious colors of the room. But what dominated the room was the bed. Surrounded by a canopy of pale gold iridescent curtains, Obi-Wan could see the bed was not only huge, it looked alluringly soft. He tried to swallow in a throat gone suddenly dry.
"Is it to your liking, Master Jedi," Simtro asked him.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Umm, yes. It's...uh...it's fine."
"Good, I will go and let the others know we are ready."
Simtro bowed, turned and left the room. Anakin looked slowly around.
"Wow, Master. This is some set-up."
He walked over and picked up the bottle of wine.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan warned him.
"I was only going to see what year it was, Master."
Anakin put the bottle back on the table. He walked over to Obi-Wan, his brow furrowed.
"Are you all right, Master?"
"What?"
"You don't look so good. And you're sweating."
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure, Master?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Obi-Wan snapped. Then he sighed. "Forgive me, Anakin. It's just---"
Obi-Wan stopped. As much as he longed to share his anxieties with someone, the last person he would have chosen to do that with was Anakin. He was Anakin's master and it was his responsibility to guide his Padawan along the sometimes difficult path that would lead to his someday becoming a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan, therefore, could never reveal to Anakin that once he had strayed from that path, consumed as he had been by a passion that had nearly destroyed him.
"I'm fine, Anakin. Really. But, despite what Master Yoda says and the Ahjane believe, this is---"
"Sacrilege!"
Obi-Wan turned quickly towards the source of that shrill cry. He noted that as Anakin whirled around his hand strayed briefly to his lightsaber. They both watched as a tiny elderly woman with a harsh, wrinkled face and dressed in voluminous black and gold robes marched into the room. She was accompanied by Simtro, Dynast K'lia and Dynast Edress. Her dark, angry eyes burned as she stopped in front of Obi-Wan.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Excuse me?" Obi-Wan asked.
The woman gestured at his clothes. "This? Why are you dressed like that?"
"These are my clothes."
The woman turned towards K'lia. "Did you have anything to do with this?"
Obi-Wan was surprised to see the normally dignified man cowering, his eyes darting as if seeking escape.
"No, Mother. I knew nothing about it."
The woman turned back and glared at Simtro. "You! You were supposed to prepare him."
"Yes, Lady Tsara."
"Well?" she snapped.
"He insisted on wearing his own clothes, m'lady."
The woman turned back to Obi-Wan. Her creased lips twisted as if she were searching for words harsh enough to scold him with. Then she lifted her chins and glared up at him.
"First my willful granddaughter. Now you. What is happening to the world? Traditions trampled on as if they were nothing but garbage."
She stamped her foot and glared at everyone in the room.
"Well, there's nothing to be done about it now," she went on. "It's nearly sunset." Then a sly look stole across her pruned face. "No matter. You'll soon be out of those clothes."
She cackled horribly for a moment, then ceased laughing just as suddenly as she had started. She looked over at Anakin.
"Who are you? Are you his son?"
"What?" Then Anakin smiled as he looked over at Obi-Wan. "Well, he is like a father to me."
Obi-Wan's eyes widened, his heart warming at Anakin's words. Although their Padawan/Master relationship over the last few years had been more tempestuous than most, Obi-Wan truly did care for the boy. Now he saw that Anakin felt the same. Obi-Wan returned his smile. Anakin looked back at Lady Tsara.
"But, no, I'm not his son. I'm his apprentice."
"Good enough. You will serve as honor guard."
"Honor guard?"
"Yes. You will wait outside the chamber during the night to serve as witness to the blessing ceremony."
"Is that really necessary?" Obi-Wan asked.
The thought of Anakin lurking outside the bedchamber made Obi-Wan more than uncomfortable. It was unseemly and he'd much prefer his Padawan be as far away from this nonsense as possible.
"Is it necessary?" Lady Tsara sneered. "No, Master Jedi, it is not necessary. It is mandatory! Now, no more will I hear from you or anyone else as to how this ceremony will be conducted! It has been tainted enough with all these blasphemous changes. Your apprentice _will_ stand as honor guard."
Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan and grinned.
"And I will sit with him." Lady Tsara went on.
Obi-Wan struggled to hide a smile as Anakin's face suddenly fell.
"Come," Lady Tsara said imperiously to Anakin. "It is time. You will accompany me to Onara's chamber and escort her back here."
She turned and made her way out of the bridal chamber. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan who nodded for him to go. Anakin returned the nod and dutifully followed Lady Tsara. Once they were gone, K'lia cleared his throat as he looked uncomfortably over at Obi-Wan.
"Please forgive my mother, Master Kenobi. She's very traditional. This blessing ceremony means a lot to her. She meant no offense."
"No need to apologize, Dynast K'lia."
"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have one final thing to do before the ceremony."
He turned and left the room. Obi-Wan and Edress were alone.
"Dynast Edress?"
"Yes, Master Kenobi?"
"I just want to say that...." Obi-Wan stopped. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. What did one say to the husband of a bride you were expected to bed?
"You don't have to say anything, Master Jedi," Edress said as he reached into a pocket of his green silk tunic and took out a small silver box. "You were chosen and I must accept that. I would have preferred that someone else do it, but if it must be you that breaks her in," and he shrugged, "well, so be it. As long as someone does it."
He opened the box, pinched up some of the yellow powdery content and snorted it quickly into his nose. He closed the box and slipped it back into his pocket.
"Personally," Edress sniffed noisily, "I find the idea of bedding virgins revolting. They're so inexperienced. Like making love to a corpse."
Edress leaned closer and Obi-Wan could smell stale wine, thick and cloying, on his breath.
"Oh, and Master Jedi, when you do take her to bed, could you also see if you could break her spirit? I've heard she's rather strong-willed and independent-minded for a female. It's all K'lia's fault, you know. Letting her attend the Cloister." Edress snorted. "Can you imagine anything so ludicrous as a woman with an education? It makes about as much sense as the Maker giving us men nipples."
Edress shook his head and rolled his beady, black eyes. Obi-Wan only stared coldly at him. Over the long days and nights of peace negotiations, he had come to dislike Edress very much for he was clearly an ambitious and dishonorable man whose primary concern during the negotiations had clearly not been for the welfare of his people but for how much of his lands and holdings he would keep as a result of the accord.
Although he had yet to meet Onara, Obi-Wan found himself feeling sorry for her, having been forced for political reasons to marry such a man. But, before he could dwell on his thoughts any further, he heard the distant sound of music coming down the hall.
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Onara searched frantically through her closet. Her grandmother would be back soon and if she were to discover what Onara was doing, there would be hell to pay, for both her and her aunts. Finally Onara found the dress she was looking for. She had worn it to the last Solstice Festival. She pulled it out and showed it to her aunts. The two elderly women exchanged worried glances.
"It's not as pretty as the blessing gown," one of them commented.
"And the Jedi won't be able to see your lovely body," the other observed.
Onara rolled her eyes. That was exactly her intention. The moment her grandmother had left her chamber, Onara had gone to work on her aunts. When they weren't in the presence of their mother, the two women were actually quite kind to her. Both had never married and, living as they did under their mother's thumb, did not have much of a life. Therefore, they lived vicariously through others. Over the years, Onara had discovered how to manipulate them enough to usually get what she wanted. And what she wanted right now was to not have to wear that shameless, see-through blessing gown.
"And if Mother should find out you switched dresses...?" The aunt who had spoken first covered her mouth in horror.
Onara quickly put the Solstice Festival dress on over her undergarments.
"She won't," she quickly assured her aunts. "When grandmother comes back I'll be wearing the robe and she won't know the difference."
She looked over at the long, red-gold and lavishly decorated ceremonial robe which was draped over a chair.
"Well," the second aunt said cautiously. She glanced at her sister and the two of them shrugged.
"I suppose it's all right," they said together. Then the two leaned towards each other.
"Especially since that Jedi will soon have her out of that dress anyway," one whispered to the other.
They clasped hands and giggled lewdly. Onara ignored them as she pushed her feet into her satin slippers. The two had been sniggling like that for the last few hours. Once her slippers were on, she adjusted the dress about her body. It was a soft violet silk, cinched snugly about her waist and billowing slightly over her hips. The rose-bud garlanded hem fell just to her ankles. The bodice was a little tight because Onara's breasts had grown since she last wore it and, she noted frowning, it was also cut quite low, therefore her bosom swelled up more than she would have liked, but it would have to do. She didn't have time to find another. The aunts then finished with her hair, slipping in a few ice-diamond silver combs in strategic places. Onara usually wore her thick, black hair loose about her shoulders, but her aunts had insisted upon putting it up for the ceremony.
"Hurry," her aunts cried once they were done with her hair. "Mother will be back any minute."
Onara picked up the robe. It was very heavy and the sleeves were long and cumbersome. The aunts rushed over and helped her put it on. Onara closed the last clasp with trembling fingers and, just in time, for the door to her room opened and her grandmother swept in. But she wasn't alone.
A tall, striking young man with intense blues eyes, short blonde hair, and sporting a braid came in with her. Onara recognized his Jedi clothing and for a moment wondered if he was the one she was supposed to lie with. Then she remembered there were two Jedi.
"Good. You're ready." Lady Tsara grumbled at Onara. "I was absolutely certain I'd come here and find you dawdling about."
She waved a hand at the young Jedi. "This is Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Master's apprentice."
Onara looked up at the handsome youth. "A pleasure to meet you, Jedi Skywalker."
The Jedi didn't say anything. He only stared at Onara as if she had grown another head. She frowned at him. Was he simple-minded? She heard her aunts tittering behind her. She looked back at them.
"Look at his expression," one of the aunts snickered. "He would bed her right now if he could---,"
"---And leave nothing for his master to do," the other finished.
They quickly moved up and took Onara by the arms.
"We'd best get her out of here, Mother, before the apprentice does what only the master should do," they chorused.
"Hmmph," was all Lady Tsara said as Onara's aunts led her out of her chamber.
The young Jedi continued to gape at Onara as she walked past him. Her grandmother poked him roughly in the side to get him moving. He jumped, then fell into step beside them, but out of the corner of her eye Onara saw him stealing glances at her.
As they made their way down the corridor they were joined by a group of servants singing and playing instruments. The song they sang was in the ancient tongue and spoke of the love between a young maiden and her warrior- poet lover. Onara blushed fiercely for the song left out no details regarding the passionate lovemaking of the two.
As she, the servants, her aunts, her grandmother, and the young Jedi wound their way through the corridors, Onara began to feel as if her head was floating away from her body. Then she recalled she hadn't eaten much at the wedding banquet. Finally, but still too soon, they arrived at the foyer of the bridal chamber. Her father was standing in front of the closed door. He smiled warmly at her as he took her arm. Once the song was done, Lady Tsara turned to the young Jedi and nodded towards the door.
"Open it."
He bowed and did so. Onara stepped into the bridal chamber. She saw Edress standing to her left. He inclined his head to her, but she saw no welcome in those cold black eyes. Onara quickly looked away from him, averting her eyes from the bed. She felt herself becoming even dizzier from the oppressive smell of all the flowers in the room. Then she saw a man standing alone in front of the large window to her right. His back was to the room. The Jedi.
Onara shivered. Her father squeezed her arm. She looked up at him and tried to smile, but her face was frozen. He gently led her over to the window. The Jedi turned around but Onara could not see his face for the setting sun blazed behind him.
"Master Kenobi," her father said, his eyes full of warmth and love as he gazed down at her. "May I present my daughter and my only child, Onara. I entrust her to you this night of nights. I ask that you bless her marriage to Dynast Edress by taking from her that gift which, once given, can never be returned."
The Jedi moved away from the window. Onara took a deep breath, looked up into his eyes and fainted.
To be continued....
BY: Arwyn Whitesun
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"Master, I don't think I've ever seen you look better."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan growled, his eyes flashing a warning.
Anakin only laughed which, Obi-Wan noted with no small degree of irritation, his Padawan had done a lot of the past few hours. When Obi-Wan had reluctantly agreed to at least, ostensibly, go through with the blessing ceremony, Simtro, K'lia's manservant, had gone into hyperdrive, and Obi-Wan and Anakin's quarters in the Dynast's palatial home was soon filled with servants running to and fro as they prepared for the ceremony. Unfortunately, most of those preparations had centered around Obi-Wan.
The Jedi Knight had been bathed in scented water and massaged with exotic oils. The servants had trimmed his hair and beard, manicured his nails and had also tried, until Obi-Wan had finally had enough and shouted at them to leave him the Force alone or he would run them all through with his lightsaber, to kohl his eyes and curl his hair.
The sight of the terrified servants tripping over each other to get away from his master had sent Anakin into a paroxysm of laughter. Collapsing onto the couch, he had laughed so hard his face had turned bright red, tears had streamed from his eyes, and Obi-Wan had been certain he was going to bust a gut.
Which, considering how annoyed he had been with his Padawan, would not have upset Obi-Wan in the least. And, as he had watched Anakin rolling about on the couch, braying like a maddened gundark, Obi-Wan had decided that when next he saw Master Yoda he would suggest that another directive be added to the Code. A Jedi Shall Not Laugh. Now, Anakin seemed to have recovered enough of his Jedi dignity to at least have the good grace to only chuckle softly as he looked his master over now that the servants were done with him.
"No, really, Master. You look great."
Obi-Wan turned and looked at himself in the large mirror of his bedchamber. He frowned. He had insisted on wearing his Jedi clothes for the ceremony. The servants had, therefore, cleaned them while he had bathed and his boots had also been shined until they seemed to glow. His lightsaber hung from his belt, for he had also insisted on not being parted from it, but he could see no discernable change in his appearance. He turned back to Anakin.
"Hmmm, if you say so, Anakin. Now, where did Simtro get off to."
"He said he had to check on some final details with Lady Tsara."
Obi-Wan adjusted his tunic. "Lady Tsara? Who is she?"
"Don't know, Master. But Simtro said he'd return shortly."
"Well, I hope he doesn't take too long."
"Can't wait, eh, Master?"
"Anakin, I've told you before I absolutely have no desire to----" but before Obi-Wan could finish, Simtro dashed through the door.
"Master Jedi, we are almost ready," he said breathlessly.
"Good," Obi-Wan said. "The sooner we get this over, the better."
Anakin grinned over at Obi-Wan. "You know, if you like, Master, I'd be more than happy to take your place."
Obi-Wan saw that Simtro was about to protest, so he quickly cut him off.
"He's only kidding, I mean, joking, Simtro."
Obi-Wan turned to Anakin and signaled with his eyes that from now on he was to cease his antics. Anakin rolled his eyes, but nodded to show he would obey. Simtro bowed and gestured for Obi-Wan and Anakin to precede him out the door. The three made their way down a series of long corridors until they came to a large, ornately decorated door. Simtro opened it. The three entered and Anakin gasped.
Obi-Wan shared Anakin's astonishment. The room wasn't very big. Actually, it was quite small, but it was the contents of the room that drew one's attention. There was an unlit fireplace on the left. Next to it stood a bloodwood table upon which was a bottle of wine, two golden cups and a silver platter heaped with fruits, cheese and bread.
Dozens of candles provided the only illumination and bouquets of flowers were scattered about the room, their mingled scents causing Obi-Wan's head to spin. There was a large window to the right through which he could see the sun was nearly set, the warm palate of the amber and ginger-colored sky echoing the luxurious colors of the room. But what dominated the room was the bed. Surrounded by a canopy of pale gold iridescent curtains, Obi-Wan could see the bed was not only huge, it looked alluringly soft. He tried to swallow in a throat gone suddenly dry.
"Is it to your liking, Master Jedi," Simtro asked him.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Umm, yes. It's...uh...it's fine."
"Good, I will go and let the others know we are ready."
Simtro bowed, turned and left the room. Anakin looked slowly around.
"Wow, Master. This is some set-up."
He walked over and picked up the bottle of wine.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan warned him.
"I was only going to see what year it was, Master."
Anakin put the bottle back on the table. He walked over to Obi-Wan, his brow furrowed.
"Are you all right, Master?"
"What?"
"You don't look so good. And you're sweating."
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure, Master?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Obi-Wan snapped. Then he sighed. "Forgive me, Anakin. It's just---"
Obi-Wan stopped. As much as he longed to share his anxieties with someone, the last person he would have chosen to do that with was Anakin. He was Anakin's master and it was his responsibility to guide his Padawan along the sometimes difficult path that would lead to his someday becoming a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan, therefore, could never reveal to Anakin that once he had strayed from that path, consumed as he had been by a passion that had nearly destroyed him.
"I'm fine, Anakin. Really. But, despite what Master Yoda says and the Ahjane believe, this is---"
"Sacrilege!"
Obi-Wan turned quickly towards the source of that shrill cry. He noted that as Anakin whirled around his hand strayed briefly to his lightsaber. They both watched as a tiny elderly woman with a harsh, wrinkled face and dressed in voluminous black and gold robes marched into the room. She was accompanied by Simtro, Dynast K'lia and Dynast Edress. Her dark, angry eyes burned as she stopped in front of Obi-Wan.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Excuse me?" Obi-Wan asked.
The woman gestured at his clothes. "This? Why are you dressed like that?"
"These are my clothes."
The woman turned towards K'lia. "Did you have anything to do with this?"
Obi-Wan was surprised to see the normally dignified man cowering, his eyes darting as if seeking escape.
"No, Mother. I knew nothing about it."
The woman turned back and glared at Simtro. "You! You were supposed to prepare him."
"Yes, Lady Tsara."
"Well?" she snapped.
"He insisted on wearing his own clothes, m'lady."
The woman turned back to Obi-Wan. Her creased lips twisted as if she were searching for words harsh enough to scold him with. Then she lifted her chins and glared up at him.
"First my willful granddaughter. Now you. What is happening to the world? Traditions trampled on as if they were nothing but garbage."
She stamped her foot and glared at everyone in the room.
"Well, there's nothing to be done about it now," she went on. "It's nearly sunset." Then a sly look stole across her pruned face. "No matter. You'll soon be out of those clothes."
She cackled horribly for a moment, then ceased laughing just as suddenly as she had started. She looked over at Anakin.
"Who are you? Are you his son?"
"What?" Then Anakin smiled as he looked over at Obi-Wan. "Well, he is like a father to me."
Obi-Wan's eyes widened, his heart warming at Anakin's words. Although their Padawan/Master relationship over the last few years had been more tempestuous than most, Obi-Wan truly did care for the boy. Now he saw that Anakin felt the same. Obi-Wan returned his smile. Anakin looked back at Lady Tsara.
"But, no, I'm not his son. I'm his apprentice."
"Good enough. You will serve as honor guard."
"Honor guard?"
"Yes. You will wait outside the chamber during the night to serve as witness to the blessing ceremony."
"Is that really necessary?" Obi-Wan asked.
The thought of Anakin lurking outside the bedchamber made Obi-Wan more than uncomfortable. It was unseemly and he'd much prefer his Padawan be as far away from this nonsense as possible.
"Is it necessary?" Lady Tsara sneered. "No, Master Jedi, it is not necessary. It is mandatory! Now, no more will I hear from you or anyone else as to how this ceremony will be conducted! It has been tainted enough with all these blasphemous changes. Your apprentice _will_ stand as honor guard."
Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan and grinned.
"And I will sit with him." Lady Tsara went on.
Obi-Wan struggled to hide a smile as Anakin's face suddenly fell.
"Come," Lady Tsara said imperiously to Anakin. "It is time. You will accompany me to Onara's chamber and escort her back here."
She turned and made her way out of the bridal chamber. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan who nodded for him to go. Anakin returned the nod and dutifully followed Lady Tsara. Once they were gone, K'lia cleared his throat as he looked uncomfortably over at Obi-Wan.
"Please forgive my mother, Master Kenobi. She's very traditional. This blessing ceremony means a lot to her. She meant no offense."
"No need to apologize, Dynast K'lia."
"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have one final thing to do before the ceremony."
He turned and left the room. Obi-Wan and Edress were alone.
"Dynast Edress?"
"Yes, Master Kenobi?"
"I just want to say that...." Obi-Wan stopped. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. What did one say to the husband of a bride you were expected to bed?
"You don't have to say anything, Master Jedi," Edress said as he reached into a pocket of his green silk tunic and took out a small silver box. "You were chosen and I must accept that. I would have preferred that someone else do it, but if it must be you that breaks her in," and he shrugged, "well, so be it. As long as someone does it."
He opened the box, pinched up some of the yellow powdery content and snorted it quickly into his nose. He closed the box and slipped it back into his pocket.
"Personally," Edress sniffed noisily, "I find the idea of bedding virgins revolting. They're so inexperienced. Like making love to a corpse."
Edress leaned closer and Obi-Wan could smell stale wine, thick and cloying, on his breath.
"Oh, and Master Jedi, when you do take her to bed, could you also see if you could break her spirit? I've heard she's rather strong-willed and independent-minded for a female. It's all K'lia's fault, you know. Letting her attend the Cloister." Edress snorted. "Can you imagine anything so ludicrous as a woman with an education? It makes about as much sense as the Maker giving us men nipples."
Edress shook his head and rolled his beady, black eyes. Obi-Wan only stared coldly at him. Over the long days and nights of peace negotiations, he had come to dislike Edress very much for he was clearly an ambitious and dishonorable man whose primary concern during the negotiations had clearly not been for the welfare of his people but for how much of his lands and holdings he would keep as a result of the accord.
Although he had yet to meet Onara, Obi-Wan found himself feeling sorry for her, having been forced for political reasons to marry such a man. But, before he could dwell on his thoughts any further, he heard the distant sound of music coming down the hall.
------------
Onara searched frantically through her closet. Her grandmother would be back soon and if she were to discover what Onara was doing, there would be hell to pay, for both her and her aunts. Finally Onara found the dress she was looking for. She had worn it to the last Solstice Festival. She pulled it out and showed it to her aunts. The two elderly women exchanged worried glances.
"It's not as pretty as the blessing gown," one of them commented.
"And the Jedi won't be able to see your lovely body," the other observed.
Onara rolled her eyes. That was exactly her intention. The moment her grandmother had left her chamber, Onara had gone to work on her aunts. When they weren't in the presence of their mother, the two women were actually quite kind to her. Both had never married and, living as they did under their mother's thumb, did not have much of a life. Therefore, they lived vicariously through others. Over the years, Onara had discovered how to manipulate them enough to usually get what she wanted. And what she wanted right now was to not have to wear that shameless, see-through blessing gown.
"And if Mother should find out you switched dresses...?" The aunt who had spoken first covered her mouth in horror.
Onara quickly put the Solstice Festival dress on over her undergarments.
"She won't," she quickly assured her aunts. "When grandmother comes back I'll be wearing the robe and she won't know the difference."
She looked over at the long, red-gold and lavishly decorated ceremonial robe which was draped over a chair.
"Well," the second aunt said cautiously. She glanced at her sister and the two of them shrugged.
"I suppose it's all right," they said together. Then the two leaned towards each other.
"Especially since that Jedi will soon have her out of that dress anyway," one whispered to the other.
They clasped hands and giggled lewdly. Onara ignored them as she pushed her feet into her satin slippers. The two had been sniggling like that for the last few hours. Once her slippers were on, she adjusted the dress about her body. It was a soft violet silk, cinched snugly about her waist and billowing slightly over her hips. The rose-bud garlanded hem fell just to her ankles. The bodice was a little tight because Onara's breasts had grown since she last wore it and, she noted frowning, it was also cut quite low, therefore her bosom swelled up more than she would have liked, but it would have to do. She didn't have time to find another. The aunts then finished with her hair, slipping in a few ice-diamond silver combs in strategic places. Onara usually wore her thick, black hair loose about her shoulders, but her aunts had insisted upon putting it up for the ceremony.
"Hurry," her aunts cried once they were done with her hair. "Mother will be back any minute."
Onara picked up the robe. It was very heavy and the sleeves were long and cumbersome. The aunts rushed over and helped her put it on. Onara closed the last clasp with trembling fingers and, just in time, for the door to her room opened and her grandmother swept in. But she wasn't alone.
A tall, striking young man with intense blues eyes, short blonde hair, and sporting a braid came in with her. Onara recognized his Jedi clothing and for a moment wondered if he was the one she was supposed to lie with. Then she remembered there were two Jedi.
"Good. You're ready." Lady Tsara grumbled at Onara. "I was absolutely certain I'd come here and find you dawdling about."
She waved a hand at the young Jedi. "This is Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Master's apprentice."
Onara looked up at the handsome youth. "A pleasure to meet you, Jedi Skywalker."
The Jedi didn't say anything. He only stared at Onara as if she had grown another head. She frowned at him. Was he simple-minded? She heard her aunts tittering behind her. She looked back at them.
"Look at his expression," one of the aunts snickered. "He would bed her right now if he could---,"
"---And leave nothing for his master to do," the other finished.
They quickly moved up and took Onara by the arms.
"We'd best get her out of here, Mother, before the apprentice does what only the master should do," they chorused.
"Hmmph," was all Lady Tsara said as Onara's aunts led her out of her chamber.
The young Jedi continued to gape at Onara as she walked past him. Her grandmother poked him roughly in the side to get him moving. He jumped, then fell into step beside them, but out of the corner of her eye Onara saw him stealing glances at her.
As they made their way down the corridor they were joined by a group of servants singing and playing instruments. The song they sang was in the ancient tongue and spoke of the love between a young maiden and her warrior- poet lover. Onara blushed fiercely for the song left out no details regarding the passionate lovemaking of the two.
As she, the servants, her aunts, her grandmother, and the young Jedi wound their way through the corridors, Onara began to feel as if her head was floating away from her body. Then she recalled she hadn't eaten much at the wedding banquet. Finally, but still too soon, they arrived at the foyer of the bridal chamber. Her father was standing in front of the closed door. He smiled warmly at her as he took her arm. Once the song was done, Lady Tsara turned to the young Jedi and nodded towards the door.
"Open it."
He bowed and did so. Onara stepped into the bridal chamber. She saw Edress standing to her left. He inclined his head to her, but she saw no welcome in those cold black eyes. Onara quickly looked away from him, averting her eyes from the bed. She felt herself becoming even dizzier from the oppressive smell of all the flowers in the room. Then she saw a man standing alone in front of the large window to her right. His back was to the room. The Jedi.
Onara shivered. Her father squeezed her arm. She looked up at him and tried to smile, but her face was frozen. He gently led her over to the window. The Jedi turned around but Onara could not see his face for the setting sun blazed behind him.
"Master Kenobi," her father said, his eyes full of warmth and love as he gazed down at her. "May I present my daughter and my only child, Onara. I entrust her to you this night of nights. I ask that you bless her marriage to Dynast Edress by taking from her that gift which, once given, can never be returned."
The Jedi moved away from the window. Onara took a deep breath, looked up into his eyes and fainted.
To be continued....