Stars in the Darkness - Chapter Three
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Obi-Wan tried his best to keep his expression as neutral as possible when Senator Rhygdon asked him to pose for pictures with her for the next edition of the HoloNet News.
Earlier that day, when Obi-Wan had given Joyna to Senator Rhygdon, the woman had given her daughter a quick, if distracted kiss on the cheek, then immediately handed her over to her nanny. However, Obi-Wan noted that when the reporters from HoloNet News arrived at her estate, having heard of Joyna's rescue from the dissidents by the Jedi, she ordered Joyna, who had been checked over earlier by a healer, fed, bathed and was taking a nap, awakened and brought downstairs, still in her sleep gown.
Obi-Wan who, along with Anakin, was in the Senator's spacious and luxuriously decorated living room waiting for the reporters to be allowed in, watched with growing disgust as the Senator scolded Joyna's nanny for having taken so long in bringing the girl to her. Then, once Joyna was in her arms, the Senator suddenly produced a floodgate of tears from her ice- blue, owlish eyes. Joyna, who was still sleepy from her nap, tired to rest her little head on her mother's shoulder, but Senator Rhygdon kept pushing it up, demanding she wake up.
She gestured brusquely for the servants to let the reporters in, even as the tears continued to pour down her long, heavy-jowled face. The gaggle of reporters, holo-cameras flashing, quickly gathered around the distraught Senator, shooting questions at her left and right.
Obi-Wan then observed, with no lack of annoyance, that Senator Rhygdon spent more time talking about the irresponsibility and lack of respect of Nidaian youth for her and her position, and her displeasure with the particularly strident demonstrations that had been going on for the past few months at the planet's universities in objection to her and her policies, than on Joyna's kidnapping.
Finally, when one of the reporters asked about the Jedi who had rescued Joyna, the Senator had grudgingly looked over at Obi-Wan and Anakin where they had been standing on the other side of the room, nodding for them to join her as she quickly handed Joyna back to her nanny.
Obi-Wan, who had his arms crossed tightly within the sleeves of his robe had not moved, for he had no intention of being part of Senator's Rhygdon's self-serving circus, but when Anakin bumped him gently with his shoulder and whispered, "Remember, Master, it'll be good PR for the Order," he reluctantly joined his apprentice, dryly noting that Anakin was certainly not going to pass up an opportunity to get his picture on the HoloNet News.
Now, the Senator, whose flood of tears had suddenly dried up, had her arms around both Anakin's and Obi-Wan's shoulders, smiling widely as she posed with them for the holo-cameras.
"Master Kenobi," one of the reporters said, a Bith who identified himself as Srilishan Sultal, staff writer for the HoloNews Net's Jedi Watch Bureau, "What's your opinion of the recent debates within the Senate regarding rising concerns that the Jedi Order is ill-equipped to deal with a large scale threat to the Republic and, therefore, the Republic should look into the creation of a standing army?"
Before Obi-Wan could answer, however, Senator Rhygdon pulled away from him and Anakin and, leaning forward, shook a finger at Sultal.
"Now, now, that's not what this news conference is about. I agreed to it with the understanding that the questions would only concern events here on Nida."
The reporter was about to protest, but the Senator interrupted him.
"There are drinks and food in the reception room just across the way," she announced.
At her words, the gaggle of reporters turned as one and raced out of the living room. It was soon empty, except for Obi-Wan, Anakin, the Senator, Joyna and her nanny.
"I apologize for that, Master Kenobi," Rhygdon said with a thin smile.
"No need," Obi-Wan replied.
"That seems to be the topic of the hour in the Senate these last few months," she stated. "An Army for the Republic. An Army for the Republic. The Chamber resounds with that cry until nothing else can be heard."
"It is somewhat understandable, Senator," Obi-Wan began. "The Separatist Movement----"
"Is nothing but a bunch of malcontents and faultfinders," she grumbled as she went and stood in front of her black marble fireplace. It was unlit, but the Senator held her long-fingered hands before it as if she were warming them before a fire.
"In a few months, this so-called movement will fade away," she went on firmly. "Like mist in the morning."
Obi-Wan said nothing. He wasn't so sure about that. The Separatist movement was, according to the reports Obi-Wan had read from the Jedi Order, gaining momentum and more star systems, if not joining the Separatists, were at least listening to the impassioned rhetoric of its leader, the charismatic ex-Jedi Count Dooku.
The Senator turned back to Obi-Wan and Anakin. "I won't deny that we have lost a number of systems to the movement, but we have also gained. Why, just this month the Senate voted to give full membership status to the system of Ahjane. And, last week the Ahjane people elected their first Senator. A woman by the name of Onara Lenor."
Obi-Wan, as he looked across at Rhygdon, kept his face expressionless, but inside his heart was beating hard and fast. Two things had struck him when he heard Onara's name. One was the fact she was now a Senator of the Republic. The other was hearing her name in combination with that of her husband's family name. He closed his eyes for just a moment. _Her husband_.
"I was not aware of that," Obi-Wan replied smoothly, amazed that his voice did not betray his agitation. "Anakin and I have been out on the Outer Rim these last few months and had heard little from Coruscant regarding events in the Senate. It is, however, welcome news. We once paid a visit to Ahjane. The system and its homeworld will be a welcome addition to the Republic."
"What about this Onara woman? Know anything about her?" Rhygdon asked, one heavy, dark brow arching up as she looked over at Obi-Wan with her cold, blue eyes.
Obi-Wan swallowed hard before answering. "She is a woman of great strength and compassion."
Rhygdon shook her head contemptuously as she moved away from the fireplace and back towards the Jedi.
"Compassion," she muttered. "Compassion is well and good, Master Jedi, if you're a priest or a poet, but compassion will get you nowhere in that rancor pit known as the Senate Chamber. I hear she's quite young. Unless she divests herself of her _compassion_, she will be eaten alive by that pack of vornskrs."
And you chief among them, Obi-Wan thought, but did not voice. He did not know Senator Rhygdon well, but he wondered if she had been so embittered before her husband's death two years earlier in a boating accident on one of the lakes of their estate. It happened just after Joyna was born.
"I think you underestimate Senator Lenor," Obi-Wan said softly, his mind still wheeling over Onara now being known in that way. "She's a very strong and capable young woman."
Rhygdon shrugged. Then she glanced over at the nanny who had been furtively trying to get her attention, not wanting to interrupt her conversation with the Jedi.
"Madam, please," the nanny pleaded, a round-cheeked, golden-skinned woman with braided, black hair. "May I put Joyna to bed?"
Rhygdon stared at the nanny as if she were some bothersome fly that kept buzzing about her head.
"Yes, yes, put her to bed," she said irritably, shooing both her and Joyna away.
As the woman turned to leave, Obi-Wan heard the little girl's soft, sleepy voice.
"No, no, want Obi-One."
Obi-Wan glanced over at Anakin as he chuckled. The young Jedi, noting his master's eyes on him, immediately smoothed out his face, but his eyes were still sparkling with laughter.
"Joyna," Senator Rhygdon snapped, "I'm sure Master Kenobi has better things to do---"
"No, it's all right, Senator," Obi-Wan said as he went over to Joyna and her nanny. "I would be honored to put her to bed."
"Suit yourself," the Senator said with a shrug. Then her eyes narrowed. "I think I'll join that pack of neks who call themselves reporters. They've had sufficient time to empty my wine cabinets. Perhaps now that their lips have been loosened, I'll pick up some interesting tidbits of information."
The Senator was about to leave the room, then turned and looked over at Anakin.
"Care to join me?" she asked.
Anakin glanced over at Obi-Wan. The older Jedi hesitated for a moment, then nodded his consent. Anakin grinned and walked over to the Senator. She took him by the arm and lead him to the reception hall. Obi-Wan turned to Joyna. He reached for her and she quickly came into his arms. The nanny gestured for him to follow her. They went up the wide staircase to Joyna's room where the nanny opened the door and Obi-Wan stepped inside.
Thick blue drapes had been drawn over the large windows, but the nanny lit a small glow lamp on a table near the bed. Obi-Wan saw a gaily decorated room, the walls and ceiling painted with stars and moons. A huge blue and gold four-poster bed with satin coverlets dominated the room. Obi-Wan walked over to it. Joyna, whose head was on his shoulder, lifted it and looked over at her bed. She yawned hugely as Obi-Wan placed her gently on it and pulled the covers over her. She looked up at him, her large green eyes half lidded.
"Story, Obi-One."
Obi-Wan glanced over at the nanny who was watching them with a soft smile on her face.
"I usually tell her a bed-time story, Master Jedi. She thinks it's nighttime."
Obi-Wan smiled in understanding. He turned and, removing his robe and placing it on a nearby chair, sat next to Joyna on her bed.
"What kind of story would you like to hear?" he asked in a low, soft voice.
"A princess story."
"Ah, a princess story," Obi-Wan replied smiling.
She nodded. "With a puppy."
Obi-Wan smiled wider. "Well, let's see what I can come up with," he said.
He wasn't very good at telling stories, but he supposed he could come up with something. Joyna was so drowsy, she would probably fall asleep long before he finished it. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had never told any kind of story to a child, and he wasn't sure where to begin. Then he thought of something.
He reached inside his tunic and pulled out the pendant he wore around his neck. Dynast K'lia, Onara's father, had given it to him two years ago before he had gone on his quest to find Sinja-Bau. He had worn it ever since. He opened it and pressed the bottom. The tiny holographic image of Onara and infant Ben coalesced over it. It was the only picture he had of Ben, but he was well aware that his son was now the same age as Joyna. He showed the image to her.
"Would you like to hear a story about her?" Obi-Wan asked as he gazed at Onara, her dark eyes smiling warmly at him as she held their son in her arms.
She nodded eagerly. "Pretty."
"Yes, very," Obi-Wan said softly.
He closed the pendant and put it back beneath his tunic. Seeing Onara's face had inspired him, reminding him of the story she had told him the night of the blessing ceremony. He put his arm around Joyna and she snuggled against him. The nanny, giving him a warmhearted smile, turned and left the room, closing the door gently behind her.
"Once upon a time," Obi-Wan began, "on a world where puppies were as plentiful as little girls' smiles, but sometimes ran away, there was a beautiful princess named Onara and one day she met a knight who had come to her palace to...to help her find her lost puppy."
Joyna smiled up at him, and Obi-Wan released a breath. So far, so good, he thought. But, as he went on with the story, even as he enjoyed being with Joyna he couldn't help but think of Ben, and he wondered what kinds of stories Onara told him.
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Taking a deep breath, Onara put her hand on the white crystal handle of the thick mahogany door to her and Dalan's bedroom. Ben had finally drifted off to sleep, but not until Onara had finished the story about Obi-Wan and the Dark Lord. It was late, although not so late that Dalan would be asleep. Like her, he kept long hours.
She opened the door and walked in. The bedroom she and her husband shared used to belong to her father. Although, over the years, it had been extensively redecorated, Onara had kept the large Tivinai Provincial bed with its thick, silver-filigreed, leaf-carved posts and arched blondwood canopy, for it had belonged to her parents. She had been very grateful when, after their marriage, Dalan had agreed to make her father's manor their new home, for she had not wanted to leave the place where, although there were painful memories, there were also happy ones. And, up in a far corner of the manor, was a small room that had been closed off for nearly three years and was rarely visited, except by Onara on days when Dalan was away from the manor. It was the nuptial chamber where she and Obi-Wan had participated in the blessing ceremony and conceived Ben.
As Onara walked across the thick fawn-colored carpet she saw Dalan was, as she suspected, still awake. He was wearing, however, a thick, garnet- colored brocaded dressing gown. He sat in a blue, high-backed, upholstered chair, flexsheets and data disks scattered about him on the floor. Last year he had begun to have trouble with his eyesight, but leery of having any kind of surgery done to his eyes, had taken to wearing spectacles which made him look like an attractive, if somewhat distracted, professor. He had them on as he read over a flexsheet in his hand.
"Did he finally go to sleep?" he asked as Onara walked over to him, not looking up from the sheet he was reading.
Onara stopped next to his chair. She stood, her hands clasped before her wide, green skirt.
"Yes. Although he tried his best to stay awake, he finally went to sleep. He'd had quite a day."
Dalan looked up from his flexsheet, his dark blue eyes peering at her through the clear frames of his spectacles. "I heard what happened with the packing box."
Onara nodded, her fingers tightening. "You must promise me, Dalan, that you will keep an eye on him while I'm gone."
Dalan looked at her for a moment. He put the flexhseet on the floor and stood. He was at least a foot and a half taller than her. He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them gently.
"Of course I will watch over him, my love. You need not worry."
Onara bit her lips as she felt tears stinging her eyes. "I've never been apart from him. I don't know..." She stopped and shook her head.
Dalan drew her close to him and put his arms around him. She let herself rest against his broad chest.
"It will be hard, at first," he said gently. "But you and he will not be parted for long. Once you're all settled in, Sinja-Bau and I will bring him to you."
"But, I don't know if I should have you bring him to me."
Dalan drew back and looked down at her, puzzlement in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Will Coruscant be a good place for him? A planet that's an entire city? He's so used to being here, where there are trees and birds, green grass and fresh air."
"There are green places on Coruscant," Dalan replied as he stroked her hair. "And, don't forget, there's the Skydome Botanical Gardens, the Galactic Museum, and the Holographic Zoo. For a boy as curious and bright as Ben, Coruscant will be a dream come true."
Onara noted Dalan had not mentioned the Jedi Temple, a place Ben never tired of wanting to visit for that was where the hero of his stories lived. She pulled away from Dalan and walked over to her dressing area.
"I suppose you're right," she said as she took off her clothes and put on a white-gold robe.
Tying the robe around her slim waist she sat at her dressing table and undid her bun. Her dark hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror. She saw a woman of twenty with large dark eyes that dominated a face much too small for such eyes. There were soft shadows under those eyes and they seemed to stare right through her. Looking up, she saw Dalan move up behind her in the mirror's reflection. Like her he was dark haired, but his eyes, a rarity among the dark-eyed Ahjane, were a deep, rich indigo.
Onara had looked into those eyes, the eyes of her husband, the eyes of the man with whom she had shared, not only her bed, but her dreams for Ahjane, and she had wanted to fall into them and lose herself, had wanted to love those eyes with all that was in her, and dream of them when she went to sleep at night. But it was not Dalan's eyes she saw in her dreams.
Dalan put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. Onara's reflection smiled at him, but inside, she was empty. She was nothing but a fraud, she suddenly realized, participating in the most horrible of deceptions: pretending to love a man she did not love. On the surface, their marriage had been a good one, if by good one meant they'd had no major disagreements, had worked well together, both as spouses and as partners, and had joined together in giving Ben a warm and loving home in which he believed Dalan was his father and loved him as much as Onara did.
The only blight on their marriage had been Onara's miscarriage six months ago. She still remembered how happy Dalan had been when she'd told him she was pregnant, for although he loved Ben as dearly as if he were his own son, Onara knew he longed desperately for a child of his own. The Ahjane were a lineage-conscious people and blood was everything. Onara's pregnancy has still been early enough she did not show, but late enough she knew it was a girl she carried, so when that terrible day happened and she had started to bleed while attending a meeting of the Assembly and was rushed to the hospital, Ben had not known he had lost a sister that day.
Onara had mourned the loss of her daughter, crying non-stop for nearly a week and trying as best she could to hide her grief from Ben, but for Dalan, the miscarriage sent him into weeks of a soul-numbing depression. For awhile, Onara suspected he even blamed her for not having taken better care of herself, but there had been no indication her pregnancy was a high- risk one. She had felt perfectly fine.
And then, there was that night. That terrible night when a storm had beat against the manor the likes of which had not been seen in years. Lightning had crashed, thunder had roared, and the wind had howled like a pack of valkons. The storm woke Ben up and he cried out for his mother. Onara, as she left the bed, noting Dalan was not in it, went to comfort her son but, instead, discovered her husband staggering down the dark hallway near their room. He had been drinking, and quite heavily.
Words were exchanged between them which Onara still shuddered to recall for Dalan hurled wild, drunken accusations at her, his blue eyes bleary and red- rimmed, his voice slurring with both drink and grief. He accused her of not wanting to have any child of his, along with baseless, fantastic allegations that Sinja-Bau had done something to Onara when she cured her of her midi-chlorian poisoning so Onara could have no children except by a Jedi, and most damming of all, and the only true thing he had said as far as Onara was concerned, that she still loved Obi-Wan, would always love the Jedi and would never love him.
Onara had called for the servants to take Dalan away and sober him up. She had then gone to see Ben, who asked tearfully why Papa was so angry and was it he who was making the sky growl. She finally got him to sleep, but for a week following that night, too angry at Dalan to even face him, Onara slept in Ben's room until Sinja-Bau intervened and told her and Dalan to stop acting like children, at least for Ben's sake.
Dalan had profusely apologized to Onara once she had deigned to speak to him again and, as recompense, had taken her and Ben on a planet-wide tour of Ahjane, which Ben had enjoyed immensely. Onara and Dalan had made up during the trip and nothing like what had occurred that stormy night had happened since, for Onara had gone out of her way to be understanding and supportive of her husband. She had not had to marry him, she reminded herself constantly, despite what the Assembly had wanted and Obi-Wan had urged. She could have gone on alone as Ben's regent, ruling their province until he was of age, living and sleeping alone.
But she had married Dalan, even when she knew in her heart she did not love him. She liked him, respected him, even felt a deep fondness for the way he had taken Ben to heart, but she did not love him and never would. And, sometimes, over the past two years, the guilt she had felt would nearly overwhelm her, and she would find someplace in the manor or deep in the forests that surrounded it where she could shed her tears in private.
Ben needed a father, she would tell herself as she wept; Ahjane needed peace and stability if it ever hoped to become a full member of the Republic, and a marriage between her and Dalan, who was now Dynast of the province her people had once been at war with, would ensure that, and Obi- Wan, who had encouraged the marriage, had needed to not feel guilty for having chosen the Jedi Order over her and Ben, a decision she had actively encouraged, for she had not wanted to see him destroyed. Thus, with her marriage to Dalan, everyone's needs had been met. Except hers.
Now, as Dalan continued to gently rub her shoulders, his hands moving slowly down her back, Onara felt a chill trickling down her spine. She knew Dalan wanted her to come to bed, fall into his arms and let him love her before she left for Coruscant, to reassure himself he would not lose her to her new responsibilities as Senator or to that phantom he imagined haunted their marriage.
But, as Onara rose from her dressing table and let her husband take her to their bed, she knew it was no phantom that haunted them. Obi-Wan Kenobi was as real to Onara as Dalan was. Perhaps, in a way, he was even more real for he lived in her heart. And, as had happened every night of their marriage, when Dalan held her and whispered her name, it was Obi-Wan's arms Onara felt around her and his voice she heard and when Dalan kissed her, it was Obi-Wan's lips she kissed back.
To be continued...
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Obi-Wan tried his best to keep his expression as neutral as possible when Senator Rhygdon asked him to pose for pictures with her for the next edition of the HoloNet News.
Earlier that day, when Obi-Wan had given Joyna to Senator Rhygdon, the woman had given her daughter a quick, if distracted kiss on the cheek, then immediately handed her over to her nanny. However, Obi-Wan noted that when the reporters from HoloNet News arrived at her estate, having heard of Joyna's rescue from the dissidents by the Jedi, she ordered Joyna, who had been checked over earlier by a healer, fed, bathed and was taking a nap, awakened and brought downstairs, still in her sleep gown.
Obi-Wan who, along with Anakin, was in the Senator's spacious and luxuriously decorated living room waiting for the reporters to be allowed in, watched with growing disgust as the Senator scolded Joyna's nanny for having taken so long in bringing the girl to her. Then, once Joyna was in her arms, the Senator suddenly produced a floodgate of tears from her ice- blue, owlish eyes. Joyna, who was still sleepy from her nap, tired to rest her little head on her mother's shoulder, but Senator Rhygdon kept pushing it up, demanding she wake up.
She gestured brusquely for the servants to let the reporters in, even as the tears continued to pour down her long, heavy-jowled face. The gaggle of reporters, holo-cameras flashing, quickly gathered around the distraught Senator, shooting questions at her left and right.
Obi-Wan then observed, with no lack of annoyance, that Senator Rhygdon spent more time talking about the irresponsibility and lack of respect of Nidaian youth for her and her position, and her displeasure with the particularly strident demonstrations that had been going on for the past few months at the planet's universities in objection to her and her policies, than on Joyna's kidnapping.
Finally, when one of the reporters asked about the Jedi who had rescued Joyna, the Senator had grudgingly looked over at Obi-Wan and Anakin where they had been standing on the other side of the room, nodding for them to join her as she quickly handed Joyna back to her nanny.
Obi-Wan, who had his arms crossed tightly within the sleeves of his robe had not moved, for he had no intention of being part of Senator's Rhygdon's self-serving circus, but when Anakin bumped him gently with his shoulder and whispered, "Remember, Master, it'll be good PR for the Order," he reluctantly joined his apprentice, dryly noting that Anakin was certainly not going to pass up an opportunity to get his picture on the HoloNet News.
Now, the Senator, whose flood of tears had suddenly dried up, had her arms around both Anakin's and Obi-Wan's shoulders, smiling widely as she posed with them for the holo-cameras.
"Master Kenobi," one of the reporters said, a Bith who identified himself as Srilishan Sultal, staff writer for the HoloNews Net's Jedi Watch Bureau, "What's your opinion of the recent debates within the Senate regarding rising concerns that the Jedi Order is ill-equipped to deal with a large scale threat to the Republic and, therefore, the Republic should look into the creation of a standing army?"
Before Obi-Wan could answer, however, Senator Rhygdon pulled away from him and Anakin and, leaning forward, shook a finger at Sultal.
"Now, now, that's not what this news conference is about. I agreed to it with the understanding that the questions would only concern events here on Nida."
The reporter was about to protest, but the Senator interrupted him.
"There are drinks and food in the reception room just across the way," she announced.
At her words, the gaggle of reporters turned as one and raced out of the living room. It was soon empty, except for Obi-Wan, Anakin, the Senator, Joyna and her nanny.
"I apologize for that, Master Kenobi," Rhygdon said with a thin smile.
"No need," Obi-Wan replied.
"That seems to be the topic of the hour in the Senate these last few months," she stated. "An Army for the Republic. An Army for the Republic. The Chamber resounds with that cry until nothing else can be heard."
"It is somewhat understandable, Senator," Obi-Wan began. "The Separatist Movement----"
"Is nothing but a bunch of malcontents and faultfinders," she grumbled as she went and stood in front of her black marble fireplace. It was unlit, but the Senator held her long-fingered hands before it as if she were warming them before a fire.
"In a few months, this so-called movement will fade away," she went on firmly. "Like mist in the morning."
Obi-Wan said nothing. He wasn't so sure about that. The Separatist movement was, according to the reports Obi-Wan had read from the Jedi Order, gaining momentum and more star systems, if not joining the Separatists, were at least listening to the impassioned rhetoric of its leader, the charismatic ex-Jedi Count Dooku.
The Senator turned back to Obi-Wan and Anakin. "I won't deny that we have lost a number of systems to the movement, but we have also gained. Why, just this month the Senate voted to give full membership status to the system of Ahjane. And, last week the Ahjane people elected their first Senator. A woman by the name of Onara Lenor."
Obi-Wan, as he looked across at Rhygdon, kept his face expressionless, but inside his heart was beating hard and fast. Two things had struck him when he heard Onara's name. One was the fact she was now a Senator of the Republic. The other was hearing her name in combination with that of her husband's family name. He closed his eyes for just a moment. _Her husband_.
"I was not aware of that," Obi-Wan replied smoothly, amazed that his voice did not betray his agitation. "Anakin and I have been out on the Outer Rim these last few months and had heard little from Coruscant regarding events in the Senate. It is, however, welcome news. We once paid a visit to Ahjane. The system and its homeworld will be a welcome addition to the Republic."
"What about this Onara woman? Know anything about her?" Rhygdon asked, one heavy, dark brow arching up as she looked over at Obi-Wan with her cold, blue eyes.
Obi-Wan swallowed hard before answering. "She is a woman of great strength and compassion."
Rhygdon shook her head contemptuously as she moved away from the fireplace and back towards the Jedi.
"Compassion," she muttered. "Compassion is well and good, Master Jedi, if you're a priest or a poet, but compassion will get you nowhere in that rancor pit known as the Senate Chamber. I hear she's quite young. Unless she divests herself of her _compassion_, she will be eaten alive by that pack of vornskrs."
And you chief among them, Obi-Wan thought, but did not voice. He did not know Senator Rhygdon well, but he wondered if she had been so embittered before her husband's death two years earlier in a boating accident on one of the lakes of their estate. It happened just after Joyna was born.
"I think you underestimate Senator Lenor," Obi-Wan said softly, his mind still wheeling over Onara now being known in that way. "She's a very strong and capable young woman."
Rhygdon shrugged. Then she glanced over at the nanny who had been furtively trying to get her attention, not wanting to interrupt her conversation with the Jedi.
"Madam, please," the nanny pleaded, a round-cheeked, golden-skinned woman with braided, black hair. "May I put Joyna to bed?"
Rhygdon stared at the nanny as if she were some bothersome fly that kept buzzing about her head.
"Yes, yes, put her to bed," she said irritably, shooing both her and Joyna away.
As the woman turned to leave, Obi-Wan heard the little girl's soft, sleepy voice.
"No, no, want Obi-One."
Obi-Wan glanced over at Anakin as he chuckled. The young Jedi, noting his master's eyes on him, immediately smoothed out his face, but his eyes were still sparkling with laughter.
"Joyna," Senator Rhygdon snapped, "I'm sure Master Kenobi has better things to do---"
"No, it's all right, Senator," Obi-Wan said as he went over to Joyna and her nanny. "I would be honored to put her to bed."
"Suit yourself," the Senator said with a shrug. Then her eyes narrowed. "I think I'll join that pack of neks who call themselves reporters. They've had sufficient time to empty my wine cabinets. Perhaps now that their lips have been loosened, I'll pick up some interesting tidbits of information."
The Senator was about to leave the room, then turned and looked over at Anakin.
"Care to join me?" she asked.
Anakin glanced over at Obi-Wan. The older Jedi hesitated for a moment, then nodded his consent. Anakin grinned and walked over to the Senator. She took him by the arm and lead him to the reception hall. Obi-Wan turned to Joyna. He reached for her and she quickly came into his arms. The nanny gestured for him to follow her. They went up the wide staircase to Joyna's room where the nanny opened the door and Obi-Wan stepped inside.
Thick blue drapes had been drawn over the large windows, but the nanny lit a small glow lamp on a table near the bed. Obi-Wan saw a gaily decorated room, the walls and ceiling painted with stars and moons. A huge blue and gold four-poster bed with satin coverlets dominated the room. Obi-Wan walked over to it. Joyna, whose head was on his shoulder, lifted it and looked over at her bed. She yawned hugely as Obi-Wan placed her gently on it and pulled the covers over her. She looked up at him, her large green eyes half lidded.
"Story, Obi-One."
Obi-Wan glanced over at the nanny who was watching them with a soft smile on her face.
"I usually tell her a bed-time story, Master Jedi. She thinks it's nighttime."
Obi-Wan smiled in understanding. He turned and, removing his robe and placing it on a nearby chair, sat next to Joyna on her bed.
"What kind of story would you like to hear?" he asked in a low, soft voice.
"A princess story."
"Ah, a princess story," Obi-Wan replied smiling.
She nodded. "With a puppy."
Obi-Wan smiled wider. "Well, let's see what I can come up with," he said.
He wasn't very good at telling stories, but he supposed he could come up with something. Joyna was so drowsy, she would probably fall asleep long before he finished it. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had never told any kind of story to a child, and he wasn't sure where to begin. Then he thought of something.
He reached inside his tunic and pulled out the pendant he wore around his neck. Dynast K'lia, Onara's father, had given it to him two years ago before he had gone on his quest to find Sinja-Bau. He had worn it ever since. He opened it and pressed the bottom. The tiny holographic image of Onara and infant Ben coalesced over it. It was the only picture he had of Ben, but he was well aware that his son was now the same age as Joyna. He showed the image to her.
"Would you like to hear a story about her?" Obi-Wan asked as he gazed at Onara, her dark eyes smiling warmly at him as she held their son in her arms.
She nodded eagerly. "Pretty."
"Yes, very," Obi-Wan said softly.
He closed the pendant and put it back beneath his tunic. Seeing Onara's face had inspired him, reminding him of the story she had told him the night of the blessing ceremony. He put his arm around Joyna and she snuggled against him. The nanny, giving him a warmhearted smile, turned and left the room, closing the door gently behind her.
"Once upon a time," Obi-Wan began, "on a world where puppies were as plentiful as little girls' smiles, but sometimes ran away, there was a beautiful princess named Onara and one day she met a knight who had come to her palace to...to help her find her lost puppy."
Joyna smiled up at him, and Obi-Wan released a breath. So far, so good, he thought. But, as he went on with the story, even as he enjoyed being with Joyna he couldn't help but think of Ben, and he wondered what kinds of stories Onara told him.
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Taking a deep breath, Onara put her hand on the white crystal handle of the thick mahogany door to her and Dalan's bedroom. Ben had finally drifted off to sleep, but not until Onara had finished the story about Obi-Wan and the Dark Lord. It was late, although not so late that Dalan would be asleep. Like her, he kept long hours.
She opened the door and walked in. The bedroom she and her husband shared used to belong to her father. Although, over the years, it had been extensively redecorated, Onara had kept the large Tivinai Provincial bed with its thick, silver-filigreed, leaf-carved posts and arched blondwood canopy, for it had belonged to her parents. She had been very grateful when, after their marriage, Dalan had agreed to make her father's manor their new home, for she had not wanted to leave the place where, although there were painful memories, there were also happy ones. And, up in a far corner of the manor, was a small room that had been closed off for nearly three years and was rarely visited, except by Onara on days when Dalan was away from the manor. It was the nuptial chamber where she and Obi-Wan had participated in the blessing ceremony and conceived Ben.
As Onara walked across the thick fawn-colored carpet she saw Dalan was, as she suspected, still awake. He was wearing, however, a thick, garnet- colored brocaded dressing gown. He sat in a blue, high-backed, upholstered chair, flexsheets and data disks scattered about him on the floor. Last year he had begun to have trouble with his eyesight, but leery of having any kind of surgery done to his eyes, had taken to wearing spectacles which made him look like an attractive, if somewhat distracted, professor. He had them on as he read over a flexsheet in his hand.
"Did he finally go to sleep?" he asked as Onara walked over to him, not looking up from the sheet he was reading.
Onara stopped next to his chair. She stood, her hands clasped before her wide, green skirt.
"Yes. Although he tried his best to stay awake, he finally went to sleep. He'd had quite a day."
Dalan looked up from his flexsheet, his dark blue eyes peering at her through the clear frames of his spectacles. "I heard what happened with the packing box."
Onara nodded, her fingers tightening. "You must promise me, Dalan, that you will keep an eye on him while I'm gone."
Dalan looked at her for a moment. He put the flexhseet on the floor and stood. He was at least a foot and a half taller than her. He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them gently.
"Of course I will watch over him, my love. You need not worry."
Onara bit her lips as she felt tears stinging her eyes. "I've never been apart from him. I don't know..." She stopped and shook her head.
Dalan drew her close to him and put his arms around him. She let herself rest against his broad chest.
"It will be hard, at first," he said gently. "But you and he will not be parted for long. Once you're all settled in, Sinja-Bau and I will bring him to you."
"But, I don't know if I should have you bring him to me."
Dalan drew back and looked down at her, puzzlement in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Will Coruscant be a good place for him? A planet that's an entire city? He's so used to being here, where there are trees and birds, green grass and fresh air."
"There are green places on Coruscant," Dalan replied as he stroked her hair. "And, don't forget, there's the Skydome Botanical Gardens, the Galactic Museum, and the Holographic Zoo. For a boy as curious and bright as Ben, Coruscant will be a dream come true."
Onara noted Dalan had not mentioned the Jedi Temple, a place Ben never tired of wanting to visit for that was where the hero of his stories lived. She pulled away from Dalan and walked over to her dressing area.
"I suppose you're right," she said as she took off her clothes and put on a white-gold robe.
Tying the robe around her slim waist she sat at her dressing table and undid her bun. Her dark hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror. She saw a woman of twenty with large dark eyes that dominated a face much too small for such eyes. There were soft shadows under those eyes and they seemed to stare right through her. Looking up, she saw Dalan move up behind her in the mirror's reflection. Like her he was dark haired, but his eyes, a rarity among the dark-eyed Ahjane, were a deep, rich indigo.
Onara had looked into those eyes, the eyes of her husband, the eyes of the man with whom she had shared, not only her bed, but her dreams for Ahjane, and she had wanted to fall into them and lose herself, had wanted to love those eyes with all that was in her, and dream of them when she went to sleep at night. But it was not Dalan's eyes she saw in her dreams.
Dalan put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. Onara's reflection smiled at him, but inside, she was empty. She was nothing but a fraud, she suddenly realized, participating in the most horrible of deceptions: pretending to love a man she did not love. On the surface, their marriage had been a good one, if by good one meant they'd had no major disagreements, had worked well together, both as spouses and as partners, and had joined together in giving Ben a warm and loving home in which he believed Dalan was his father and loved him as much as Onara did.
The only blight on their marriage had been Onara's miscarriage six months ago. She still remembered how happy Dalan had been when she'd told him she was pregnant, for although he loved Ben as dearly as if he were his own son, Onara knew he longed desperately for a child of his own. The Ahjane were a lineage-conscious people and blood was everything. Onara's pregnancy has still been early enough she did not show, but late enough she knew it was a girl she carried, so when that terrible day happened and she had started to bleed while attending a meeting of the Assembly and was rushed to the hospital, Ben had not known he had lost a sister that day.
Onara had mourned the loss of her daughter, crying non-stop for nearly a week and trying as best she could to hide her grief from Ben, but for Dalan, the miscarriage sent him into weeks of a soul-numbing depression. For awhile, Onara suspected he even blamed her for not having taken better care of herself, but there had been no indication her pregnancy was a high- risk one. She had felt perfectly fine.
And then, there was that night. That terrible night when a storm had beat against the manor the likes of which had not been seen in years. Lightning had crashed, thunder had roared, and the wind had howled like a pack of valkons. The storm woke Ben up and he cried out for his mother. Onara, as she left the bed, noting Dalan was not in it, went to comfort her son but, instead, discovered her husband staggering down the dark hallway near their room. He had been drinking, and quite heavily.
Words were exchanged between them which Onara still shuddered to recall for Dalan hurled wild, drunken accusations at her, his blue eyes bleary and red- rimmed, his voice slurring with both drink and grief. He accused her of not wanting to have any child of his, along with baseless, fantastic allegations that Sinja-Bau had done something to Onara when she cured her of her midi-chlorian poisoning so Onara could have no children except by a Jedi, and most damming of all, and the only true thing he had said as far as Onara was concerned, that she still loved Obi-Wan, would always love the Jedi and would never love him.
Onara had called for the servants to take Dalan away and sober him up. She had then gone to see Ben, who asked tearfully why Papa was so angry and was it he who was making the sky growl. She finally got him to sleep, but for a week following that night, too angry at Dalan to even face him, Onara slept in Ben's room until Sinja-Bau intervened and told her and Dalan to stop acting like children, at least for Ben's sake.
Dalan had profusely apologized to Onara once she had deigned to speak to him again and, as recompense, had taken her and Ben on a planet-wide tour of Ahjane, which Ben had enjoyed immensely. Onara and Dalan had made up during the trip and nothing like what had occurred that stormy night had happened since, for Onara had gone out of her way to be understanding and supportive of her husband. She had not had to marry him, she reminded herself constantly, despite what the Assembly had wanted and Obi-Wan had urged. She could have gone on alone as Ben's regent, ruling their province until he was of age, living and sleeping alone.
But she had married Dalan, even when she knew in her heart she did not love him. She liked him, respected him, even felt a deep fondness for the way he had taken Ben to heart, but she did not love him and never would. And, sometimes, over the past two years, the guilt she had felt would nearly overwhelm her, and she would find someplace in the manor or deep in the forests that surrounded it where she could shed her tears in private.
Ben needed a father, she would tell herself as she wept; Ahjane needed peace and stability if it ever hoped to become a full member of the Republic, and a marriage between her and Dalan, who was now Dynast of the province her people had once been at war with, would ensure that, and Obi- Wan, who had encouraged the marriage, had needed to not feel guilty for having chosen the Jedi Order over her and Ben, a decision she had actively encouraged, for she had not wanted to see him destroyed. Thus, with her marriage to Dalan, everyone's needs had been met. Except hers.
Now, as Dalan continued to gently rub her shoulders, his hands moving slowly down her back, Onara felt a chill trickling down her spine. She knew Dalan wanted her to come to bed, fall into his arms and let him love her before she left for Coruscant, to reassure himself he would not lose her to her new responsibilities as Senator or to that phantom he imagined haunted their marriage.
But, as Onara rose from her dressing table and let her husband take her to their bed, she knew it was no phantom that haunted them. Obi-Wan Kenobi was as real to Onara as Dalan was. Perhaps, in a way, he was even more real for he lived in her heart. And, as had happened every night of their marriage, when Dalan held her and whispered her name, it was Obi-Wan's arms Onara felt around her and his voice she heard and when Dalan kissed her, it was Obi-Wan's lips she kissed back.
To be continued...