Chapter 17. Remembrance

Padmé cautiously re-entered her apartment in the Palace of Theed from the terrace to find Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi still sitting at her polished dining table leaning his hand on his chin and looking at an overturned chair on the floor.

"That didn't go well," he said without looking up, when he had sensed her presence.

"I'm sorry, Master Kenobi," she said, biting her lip. "Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. I meant well."

"I know you did," he said, chin still in hand. "So did we all."

Padmé slipped back into the chair she had abandoned when the discussion had turned heated and personal. Trying to give the two Jedi some privacy she had to retreat all the way to the far corner of the terrace. Even from that distance she had overheard much of what went on. Three plates of soup had grown cold. They never even made it past the first course.

"Nothing I have ever done has been good enough for you, has it, Master? If I mastered one lesson, I fell short on another. If I won a sparring match I was too flashy. If I triumphed I was immodest. If I saved your life, I was too rash."

                       

"…and of course, it was my fault you were so badly injured on Geonosis. If I tried to help you, I got you hurt."

"I think I'm the one who owes you an apology," Obi-Wan said to his hostess. "You should never have been exposed to that conversation."

"Not at all, Master Kenobi." Padmé was trying not to smile. "In fact, it made me feel quite a bit better."

He looked up, taken aback.

"At least I know I'm not the sole cause of the trouble!"

Obi-Wan went back to his gloomy contemplation of the chair. There was another long silence.

Padmé suddenly started to laugh. She couldn't help it.

"You're wondering what in the world I see in him!" she burst out. "It's written all over you!"

The Jedi Master looked at her in wonder. She was right. He had just been asking himself how this beautiful, well-mannered, intelligent and very gracious woman could possibly be involved with – never mind supposedly in love with – the rude, impulsive and self-centered boy who had just slammed out of the room leaving that overturned chair in his wake. It was impossible to imagine.

"It's a bit like the Master-Padawan relationship," she began, only to be unnerved by a very hard blue-green stare under a pair of sternly raised eyebrows. "I…I mean, in the sense that it can't very well be explained to… outsiders."

Obi-Wan continued to look at her in disbelief.

"This is a side of him I don't normally see," she finished, with uncommon awkwardness.

"I would hope not," the Jedi Master said crisply.

"Why didn't they want me?  Why do they watch me all the time?  Why are they afraid of me?  I have done everything that has been asked of me, and more. But they don't trust me. You don't trust me. What have I done to deserve that?"

"Not of you, Anakin. Of what you might do."

"What might I do? All I ever wanted was to be a Jedi Knight. I was born to be one."

"I know. But are you willing to make the necessary sacrifices?  Would you give up love, for example?  The kind of love that is personal and exclusive?"

"I don't see why I have to. Why can't I have both?  Why can't every Jedi?  Why can't you?"

There was another long silence. This time Obi-Wan stared at Padmé rather than at the chair. She stared back

"Tell me something, Senator Amidala," he finally said. "Why is it that you have not once asked me to leave, or tried to hide your relationship with my Padawan?  Why have you tried to bring us together?"

Padmé met his gaze levelly.

"Probably for the same reason that you have not demanded that I stay away from him or threatened me with exposure and other horrors if I don't." She paused. "We both seem to want the same thing from Anakin – his heart and mind, freely given."

Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully and began to drum his fingers lightly on the table. It was a gesture that only those closest to him would have recognized as a sign of extreme distress. Jedi Knights do not, as a rule, fidget.

"Why did you take me on as Padawan?  You had to defy the Council to do that."

"Much of this is my fault, Anakin. I was far too young to be someone's Master. I had just been made a Knight – I had no experience on my own at all. I took you on because it was Master Jinn's dying wish."

"So I was right. You never wanted me. All those years – you didn't care about me – you were just fulfilling an obligation."

"No, Anakin, that isn't true!  Listen to me – I 'm being honest when I tell you how all this began. But it changed – over the years it changed, don't you see?  I grew to care for you more than you realize."

But Anakin had no longer been there to hear.

"Master Kenobi?" Padmé's gentle voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up unhappily.

"Master Kenobi, if you don't have any other pressing business right now, would you be willing to take a walk with me?  There is something I would like to show you."

"My only pressing business just implied that I am an unfeeling, duty-blinded failure, overturned that chair and left. I think I might have some time available."

Padmé smiled sympathetically and tugged at his arm.

"Come walk with me, Master Kenobi," she said again.

* * * * *

The ancient Palace at Theed stood at the heart of the Naboo Capital's Old City. Surrounded by gracious gardens and plazas, it stood on a hill that overlooked the city, the waterfalls and the plains beyond. Padmé chose a shaded path that wound around the palace and gradually led downward by a series of broad stairs edged by elaborate balustrades. Each landing and turning provided lovely views. The Senator and the Jedi Knight strolled slowly, conversing quietly as Padmé described points of interest in her home city.

Approximately halfway down the hill she paused again at a landing that provided a broad open view of the city and the spaceport. It seemed to Padmé that the Jedi Knight beside her could sense the distress that she felt at the sight of the military activity that flowed through the streets of the city like a river seeping over its banks. He hovered silently nearby, watching her face, providing a warms and solid presence.

Suddenly Padmé had the unreal feeling that she was watching another scene superimposed onto the view. She saw fires and battles, and experienced a flash of terror that had nothing to do with the mild and beautiful scene below her. Obi-Wan reached out to steady her before she fell. As soon as he did, she recovered.

"Are you all right, My Lady?" he asked, using the polite Naboo form of address.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi. I'm fine." She was still stunned by the power of the images she had just experienced and did not feel ready to talk about them.

It must be my imagination, she thought. I am picturing my fears.

* * * * *

Obi-Wan did not press her, but contented himself with observing her carefully.

It is as I thought, he said to himself. And it is getting worse.

They continued down the path in a comfortable silence, thinking their own thoughts and enjoying the pleasant and undemanding company provided by the other.

From the top of another set of steps Obi-Wan glimpsed the graceful dome of the Theed Temple. He remembered it well. The last time he was there it was filled with dignitaries from throughout the Galaxy who had come to honor his Master at Qui-Gon's funeral pyre. The Jedi Council had been there, as had then-Senator Palpatine. If he allowed the images to surface he could vividly remember the press of grief and the smell of the herbs and incense on the fire. He remembered how the outer silence contrasted with the clamor of thoughts. He remembered the fear in the small boy by his side.

Senator Amidala seemed to be taking them in that direction. Indeed, they followed the path straight toward a plaza that opened onto the Temple district. But his companion veered away from the entrance of the building and instead chose to enter a small gate in one of the massive walls that embraced the Sanctuary on both sides. It led into a completely walled garden that was full of statues and rare and precious plants.

Padmé gestured around the garden, inviting him in.

"This is our Garden of Honors," she explained. "It is our tradition, our way, to commemorate those who have played an important role in our public life."

They circled the quiet and fragrant space slowly, marveling at the variety and artistry of the statues, plaques and sculptures that dotted the garden.

Obi-Wan smiled broadly when he found himself face to face with a substantial and energetically rendered statue of Boss Nass. Padmé laughed. "We are approaching more recent history on this side of the garden," she pointed out.

Then she put her hand on his arm and pulled him almost eagerly into a nearby shady alcove. She stopped in front of a pillar that was so modest compared to the magnificence of the other memorials that it might easily go unnoticed. No higher than eye level, it was a simple polished slab of a rich pinkish stone. A single determined eliril vine was struggling, with limited success, to take hold of the gleaming surface.

Obi-Wan stared at the slab in complete amazement. Affixed to the polished stone near the top of the pillar was a raised metal plaque rendered by an artisan of staggering gifts. It depicted in exquisite detail the faces of two Jedi Knights and a young boy.

There was his Master's face, rendered so vividly that he expected it to speak. Just below Qui-Gon's was Obi-Wan's own youthful face, with his hair still cropped but without his Padawan braid. Below his own shoulder was Anakin as a young boy with his hair flopping into his eyes.

Without intending to Obi-Wan reached out and stroked the image of his Master's face and his vision blurred. Padmé watched him in silence.

"How…how did this get here?" Obi-Wan asked hoarsely.

"I had it made while I was still Queen," she said quietly. "I felt I wanted to commemorate Master Jinn's role – and your role – in our successful battle against the Trade Federation. And Anakin's, of course."

"We serve," Obi-Wan said briefly. "We do not require commemoration." He did not take his eyes off the plaque.

"It wasn't for you, Master Kenobi," she said. "It was for me. I needed it." There was a long silence. "I was so angry with him, you see."

Obi-Wan tore his eyes away from his Master's face and found hers, completely taken aback.

"Angry with Master Jinn?  Why?"

Padmé sank down on a small stone bench that was almost hidden in greenery.

"I was so young, Master Kenobi, and I carried so much responsibility. I needed help desperately. Chancellor Valorum had promised me negotiators. I didn't realize at first that he was sending Jedi Knights."

"I was only a Padawan then, My Lady," Obi-Wan said, seating himself on the ground beside her bench.

"To the outside observer there is very little difference, Master Kenobi," she said dryly. "Based on recent experience I have learned to value the skills of the Jedi Padawan learner highly."Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows but held his tongue.

Padmé went on. "I thought initially that Master Jinn would solve all my problems for me. Instead, I found him difficult, contrary and patronizing. He either insisted on doing things entirely his way or refused to help at all."

I cannot fight a war for you.

Obi-Wan remembered. It was fascinating to hear her perspective.

"I never knew whether he was aware from the beginning that I was the Queen."

Obi-Wan grinned. "He was."

"That makes it even worse," Padmé said somewhat sourly, "because he certainly gave no consideration to the Queen's wishes."

"It was for the best," Obi-Wan said.

"Well, that's just it," Padmé reflected. "Only in hindsight did I begin to see that, by forcing us to take action on our own, Master Jinn ensured that the solution we found was one we could follow through on our own. He made it necessary for us to be independent."  She reached down and picked a long leaf and began running it through her fingers. "But the whole time he was right there, providing support."

"It is our way." Obi-Wan explained. "The minute we impose our own choices we become part of the problem. Our mission is always to help others find the appropriate solutions."

"It doesn't always work that way, does it, Master Kenobi?  Sometimes direct intervention is required."

"It is a fine line," the Jedi Master admitted, thinking poignantly of their current situation, "and one we struggle with constantly."

"So," Padmé went on, finishing her story, "I suppose I felt guilty about my uncharitable feelings toward Master Jinn. Especially after he died. I wanted to commemorate him – all of you – somehow." She looked at him earnestly. "Whenever I feel myself struggling with pride and impatience I come here to re-learn charity and humility."

There was a long silence while both of them followed their own thoughts. Obi-Wan could not remember ever having had a conversation of this nature with someone from outside of the Order.

"And Anakin?"

"You were not by your Master's side on Tatooine, Master Kenobi. Perhaps you have never realized how unselfishly Anakin helped us. I think about that more often than about his spectacular shot on the Trade Federation Control Ship."

Obi-Wan became aware of feelings rising that he thought he had long ago put way for good. Even his visit to the hangar had not wakened them. Yet here they were.

"I was angry with Master Jinn, too," he suddenly found himself saying, surprising himself more than her. The words were extremely difficult to say, but he couldn't seem to stop them and they came out in an uncharacteristic rush.

"I was furious that he had put me aside for that boy. And then he died. I always believed that he died because I failed him. And then his dying wish was that I train Anakin. I had to do it. The only way I could make up for that anger and for failing him was to do the best job I could in raising the boy. It was what my Master wanted."

A breeze rustled though the garden, lifting the Jedi Knight's hair and brushing his face.

"And now, Master Kenobi?" Padmé asked gently.

"And now I believe that I have failed Anakin, too."

Padmé reached over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "How could you have failed?" she asked. "He is…extraordinary."

There is so much that you don't know, he thought. He is endangering you. He could not think of any words that would be appropriate to say, so he remained silent.

"Like it or not, Master Kenobi," Padmé went on, "you and I are bound together through Anakin. No matter what happens, no matter what punishments you and the Jedi Council devise for him, I will never stop loving him. I think you will find that he feels the same way." A little archly, she finished, "I can't explain it to you, so you will just have to accept it."

And then once again she succeeded in thoroughly surprising him – Jedi Master though he was.

"Since for better or for worse we are practically related, I wish you would call me Padmé."

The Jedi Knight stood up and brushed the leaves off his clothing. His eyes sought the plaque once more and he gazed at the three faces. Then he looked at Padmé.

What a remarkable woman, he thought.

Out loud he said with the deepest courtesy, "My name to you is Obi-Wan. I am at your service."

Padmé smiled at him.

"I will leave you now, My Lady." He looked straight into her eyes. "Thank you for your efforts on my behalf." He looked around the garden briefly and then found her eyes with his again. "Thank you for showing me this."

Padmé inclined her head as well, wondering what he was going to do next.

"Thank you for a most enjoyable walk, Obi-Wan."

The Jedi Knight hesitated.

"I would not leave you if I thought it meant you had to return to the Palace alone. But I believe you will have a companion."

Padmé looked puzzled for a moment, and then her face cleared.

"I wish you a good night, My Lady," Obi-Wan said, although it was not later than mid-afternoon. "Please tell Anakin that I will see him in the morning." And with that he resolutely turned his back and strode out of the Garden of Honors with the light, swinging step that comes from balance, poise and firmness of purpose.

It's all I can do for them, the Jedi Knight thought as he left the garden behind. It may be the last thing I can ever do for Anakin. I hope they find some joy before the storm.

His steps took him across the city toward the Spaceport, where he would spend the remainder of the day and the night meditating, watching for his urgently anticipated reinforcements from Coruscant, and being watched by his Padawan's enemies.

* * * * *

Padmé was only puzzled for a moment before she realized whom Obi-Wan must mean.

Anakin?

Here.

Obi-Wan had given them a gift, and Padmé knew it.