XI.
Hush, the lilies and purple flowers
Are sleeping
I don't want them to know of my sorrow
For if they see me crying
They will die
(Rafael Hernández)
***
The jungle was breathing.
Moist, warm air surrounded the small group. It was heavy with hundreds of different smells, ranging from the fresh, lively nuance up to a morbid heaviness that brought the eternal circle of life and death back to the memory. The high humidity caused the simple clothes soon to cling to their bodies and small beads of sweat ran over the wanderers' foreheads. From time to time the walk had to be delayed due to a fallen tree that blocked the way or to a small stream that unexpectedly emerged from the ground of the jungle. No words were spoken--it seemed as though the three wanderers had nothing much to say to each other.
The sun had risen well over the zenith when they reached their destination.
From the jungle's tight coppice a building rose majestically. A clearing, where reflections of the sunlight streaming through the dome of leaves were dancing, spread out in front of the steps leading inside the building. Even though it was very impressive, the building itself was made out of a bright sandstone that - due to the influences of the weather - had become black at some places and gave the impression of high age. The roof ran in graceful curves over the walls which, in comparison, looked frail and delicate." It spanned a broad terrace on which slim steatite benches were placed around a depression in the floor. Upon coming closer it was clear that this depression must have been some kind of a fountain once. The stone was shiny and bore the traces of water on the brims of the basin which imitated the perfect beauty of a lotus-blossom.
Reaja climbed the last steps that lead to the terrace with an elating feeling of home. The temple in Theed was more useful, indeed, and more frequented, maybe it even was more comfortable, but this was the place where her soul found solitude.
She kneeled in front of the lotus-basin and touched the stone, felt the perfection of the smoothly formed petals. The beauty that lay in this temple's simplicity never failed to have its effects on the healer priestess Reaja. So many things connected her to this place.
She left the memories behind nearly reluctantly. Her hands put together in front of her face in a ritual gesture, she started to sing a series of pentatonic tones.
While she was singing, she heard her exhausted companions climb up the few steps behind her and sink down on one of the benches. The sound of her voice flew through the open rooms in the temple and fled out into the jungle without causing a reflection. After she had ended, she rose slowly and fixed her eyes on the ground of the lotus-basin.
The sound was so soft that at first it nearly drowned in the background noise of the jungle, in the cacophony of the different birds and the everlasting rustling and waving of the forest. Eventually the soft splashing and gurgling became more distinctly audible and from the corner of her eyes Reaja amusedly saw how the queen and the Jedi futilely searched for the source of the sound.
"What is happening here, healer?" Padme's voice was faint and exhausted, but no less expectant.
The priestess extended her hand. "Come and see for yourself, your majesty."
Without paying attention to the healer's subordinate position in Naboo society, Padme reached for the offered hand and allowed the priestess to pull her to her feet until she was standing directly next to Reaja.
For a while nothing happened and in her breathless exhilaration Padme forgot Kenobi, who sat behind her and watched the events from there, for a while. When the change finally came, she couldn't suppress a surprised cry.
"Look! Healer, Jedi, look!"
Reaja smiled. She had just witnessed one of the rare moments in which the queen - far away from her duties - could show a normal human reaction that wasn't regulated by the protocol of the palace.
In front of the women's feet the lotus-basin had become alive. The stone shifted its shape and seemed to grow, from the centre of the stone blossom a bud rose. All around this bud clear, slightly bluish water bubbled up and soon filled the basin completely. It looked as if the lotus bud was swimming.
Padme stared at the spectacle in front of her eyes adoringly. Her grasp at Reaja's hand increased slightly.
'Oh, mistress, Reaja thought sadly. 'Why did they surrender you into the hands of this loneliness?'
She squeezed the young woman's hand reassuringly one last time before she let go and smiled at her softly.
"How . . . how did you . . ."
The priestess shook her head. "Not all secrets are meant to be discovered, your majesty."
She walked around the blossom towards the rooms of the temple
"Your majesty, Jedi . . . Please let us continue the ritual."
***
Even though they were inside the temple, the sounds of the jungle were only barely dampened. It was surprisingly cool in here and the fine smell of burning ceremonial herbs filled the air.
Padme and Obi-Wan knelt on the temple's smooth stone ground. Facing each other they both searched for calm in the eyes of the other, but found nothing but swirling uncertainty. Neither of them knew what was going to happen.
Reaja stood above them and Obi-Wan instinctively asked himself if it was just his kneeling position that made the healer appear superhuman in size, or if the burning herbs in the small copper bowl he had seen at the entrance of the room had some kind of hallucinogenic effects. He saw similar thoughts flickering in the queen's eyes.
What was he getting into here? Hadn't he lived through enough humiliation? Hadn't the first ritual been enough?
When the healer's warm hand was placed over his eyes he flinched violently. What had happened to his concentration? Unable to reach out with the force to see what the healer was doing, he was forced to wait and surrender himself to her actions, just as the queen did.
His knees shook under the tense posture and the uncertainty. He needed way too much time to control that shaking. Meanwhile the healer priestess Reaja had ordered them to keep their eyes closed.
Instantly his ears started to respond better. The fact that one sense could be replaced so fast and so far-reaching by another sense still flabbergasted him. The fine clink of a clay bowl became audible, then the soft sound of a liquid that was being poured into the bowl. The smell of the herb became more distinct and by now Obi-Wan was relatively sure that they had to have some inebriating effects. He felt weak, dizzy, and unsure, and judging from the irregular sound of the queen's breathing she felt exactly the same.
"There is no need to worry", Reaja reassured her two charges.
***
Later on Padme couldn't recall Reaja's exact words as she had told her to drink.
A bowl was placed at her mouth, the rough surface of the clay teased the tender skin of her bottom lip blindly, as though searching and she reached for it with a steadying hand.
But the hands that held the bowl weren't Reaja's.
The fingertips of those hands were strangely familiar to her - rough and callused, but cool against her warm skin. For a few seconds her fingertips settled against the others and she enjoyed the sensation of intimacy until she felt a fine tremor running through the other hands and she forced herself to drink the sweetly smelling liquid.
The potion burned down her throat all the way down to her stomach. Padme hadn't eaten anything since they had left the temple in Theed, and now whatever had been in this potion showed a direct effect. Dizziness flooded her so badly that she reached out to the floor for support. Her hands moved too slowly and no matter how much she tried to open her eyes - she couldn't manage.
Warmth coming from her stomach flooded her body and washed away all the defence mechanisms her mind had against assaults like that. She felt like she was floating, yet she felt heavy as lead, unable to move a single muscle.
The soft sound of cloth moving over stone reached her ear. Padme didn't feel the floor under her anymore, its cool was drowned by the enrapturing warmth inside of her.
Darkness folded its wings around her as her last conscious thought slipped from her.
***
With quick, skilled hands Reaja finished the last preparations before she left the quiet and seclusion of the temple. Supplies had been placed in one of the smaller buildings and she had left some important notes on a datapad.
Her two charges slept deep and peaceful, neither of both heard the quick, busy steps of the priestess.
Reaja had spent more time on this than necessary, and she knew it. Yet she couldn't part from the queen and the Jedi so fast. When her steps brought her to their sleeping places again, she stopped. Even during his sleep the Jedi had turned towards the queen, just as if he was ready to jump up from sleep and protect her if necessary. Reaja felt and saw the bond between the two of them flowing tenderly and steadily. Their dreams were peaceful. Part of her felt sorrow for having to destroy this bond. She hadn't seen a bond so powerful like the one between the queen and the Jedi in a long time. Yet none so dangerous as well, the other part of her mind reminded her. Carefully not to wake either of them, she placed her hands on the queen's and the Jedi's forehead and murmured a quiet blessing.
Out of a feeling of sympathy she stepped out into the half overgrown garden of the temple and gently plucked the cream-coloured, delicate blossoms of a tree that was branching out in all directions. With skilled hands she wound a slim garland from the just opened buds of the blossoms. Their scent was unique - sweet and fresh and in a strange way pure and clear. Carefully she wound the blossom-garland around the queen's wrist, whose both hands lay next to her face in a nearly child-like manner. The scent would make her sleep become deeper and would give her the much needed rest.
Unsteady breathing behind her brought her attention back to the Jedi. His face didn't look nearly as relaxed as it had just a few minutes before and the deep lines she had thought had been smoothed became visible once more. The priestess closed her eyes and sighed, a piercing pain on account of the young man's situation spread under her heart. The blossoms she had chosen for the queen wouldn't help him. They only protected the sleep of the healthy. Reaja pondered for a while, but then reached for the small bag she always carried and and took out a rust-red petal with broad, ragged edges.
As careful as possible she rolled the petal and placed it into the Jedi's mouth, waiting for it to dissolve. It didn't take long and she could watch his features relax, just as she felt him leaving the dream behind.
The leaves of the Tandara-tree were plucked only during a certain period of time, since they had their full effect only once in a full cycle. Mildly hallucinogenic and antispasmodic substances accumulated on the leather-like surface of the reddish-brown leaves just before the great rains started. Those substances repressed the bodily causes for nightmares.
She hoped that this effects wouldn't be only temporary in Kenobi's special case.
For a while she stayed and watched the sleepers, then she rose without a sound and left, quiet as a thief in the night.
***
In the late afternoon of the fifth day after the queen's mysterious journey away from the Theed temple, Sabe slowly started to feel less uncomfortable with her task. From the waterfall side the warm wind coming from the plains found its way through the open windows into the queen's high study that was lined by shining columns. The handmaiden who, clad in the royal gowns, looked like a flawless image of the queen sat bent over a broad desk of high-grade wood on which papers and datapads were scattered everywhere. The high doors of the room were closed and beyond them the softly dampened sounds of the servants scurrying past and walking busily in the hallways. Tired she brushed her index and middle fingers over her furrowed eyebrows and tried to prevent the frown that slowly became painful.
Again and again she read the documents that would be talked about in the audience. Was Amidala really occupying herself with this dry stuff all day long?
Quietly sighing she reached for the glass carafe and poured some of the ruby-red nectar which she knew Amidala loved. It surprised her how close this little gesture made her feel to the queen. The nectar was sweet and full-bodied, it tickled slightly on her tongue. Careful not to bend the overtaxed muscles too much, she turned her head. The food one of the handmaidens had brought her hours ago, had gone cold without her having touched it. She didn't feel hungry, her anxiety level was too high.
She had taken the queen's place a few time before, but Amidala had always been by her side during those times. Multiple times Sabé had caught herself looking over her shoulder for an affirmative gesture of the queen, which didn't come. Couldn't come. The first days had been horrible. As long as she had known that the queen was at the healer temple, she had been sure, ever seemingly unfathomable problem hadn't seemed quite so threatening – if only just because the queen was close. But now she was alone and all the decision that were coming up had to be made by her, without the safety of being able to ask Amidala for advice. Even just thinking of the upcoming audiences caused her palms to grow damp. She had had a good training, she knew how to handle situations like this. But it was completely different having learned something in theory and then being confronted by the harsh reality.
Impatiently she swept her left hand over the scattered documents in front of her and tried to get them in some kind of order. Amidala was not a perfect woman, but she was very tidy and anyone entering the room now would have realised that something was wrong.
A small ray of sunlight fell through the crack in the half closed, heavy curtains and caused the continuously swirling dust in the room to sparkle strangely. For a few blinks of an eye she lost herself in watching this spectacle and forgot everything around her.
The respectful knock on the high door startled her out of her daydreams and once more she scolded herself for not paying attention.
Trying to imitate Amidala's cool tone of voice she said: "Yes?"
The voice of Eirtae, one of her subordinate handmaidens, sounded slightly muffled through the door. "Mistress, Governor Bibble asks for permission to send you more petitions for the audience."
Suddenly Sabé had the urge to hit her head against the desk. Hard.
How could Amidala possibly take all this?
Slowly she rose from the chair that was covered with a dark, soft material and stretched her hurting back before she walked up to the door to open it - against palace regulations - by hand. She had watched Amidala do this a lot of time before and she had always admired it, since it took a lot of the nearly fearful diffidence the handmaidens felt for the queen.
Eirtae's eyes wandered quickly and unbeknownst to others over face and clothing of the woman in front of her. Everything was perfect and no one who didn't know could have guessed that the woman who was standing here was not the queen.
Eirtae handed Sabé another pile of datapads. She was acting correctly . the queen hadn't asked her to enter her study, so she wasn't allowed to carry the pads to the ruler's desk. Another careful glance revealed the untouched glass plate where the meal had gone cold. Eirtae's eyebrows furrowed disapprovingly - just slightly enough to not make other scurrying-by servants see it, but distinctly enough to make Sabé see it quite well.
Sabé took a step to the side and with a quick nod of her head motioned for Eirtae to follow her into the study.
Behind them the draught billowed the heavy curtains.
Without closing the door the handmaiden took the datapads out of the queen's hands, walked to the desk with quick steps and placed them there.
Then she turned towards Sabé. "You look tired," she whispered barely audible. "Why didn't you eat?"
Sabé bent her head slightly and reminded Eirtae with this so much of Amidala, that shivers ran up and down her spine. She could see it in Sabé's eyes that the young woman didn't know about the effects she was having on others, but the illusion was perfect.
An exhausted smile flickered over the features of the woman in the queen's role. "I can't rest now, Eirtae," she whispered back. "And I'm not hungry."
Even the tone of her voice had changed when Sabé was talking now. The words were chosen softly, but they made unmistakably clear that her actions were not to be questioned.
Eirtae bowed quickly and rushed towards the door that was threateningly close to slamming shut due to the wind that was coming through the open windows. She caught the richly engraved door in the very last second and turned towards the woman who had sat down behind the desk one last time.
"I will have your dinner sent right away, your highness," she informed quietly.
Sabé's eyes rose form the petitions and she cast a warm glance at the fellow handmaiden. "Thank you."
Eirtae closed the heavy doors with a smile.
The wind that moved through the windows now carried with it the smell of the falling evening and the queen's study was being bathed in the soft light of the sinking sun, without being noticed by Sabe, who had bent over the petitions once more.
***
The sound of the light sabre swishing through the air had burned itself in her thoughts as if it was a part of her. She knew it, felt the elegance of this weapon that was reserved for Jedi only and she admired it. Nevertheless this noise, mingled with the hard humming of the training probe became unbearable after several hours of listening to it.
Hours. Had it been going on that long already?
The Jedi fought his body with ferocity, he trained his movements, always fighting the small spherical and in her ears maliciously humming training probe: Somersaulted, struck, evaded, attacked, retreated again. . . seemingly endless.
The low whirring of the sabre triggered dizziness in Padme. She had repeatedly tried to get him to take a break, but he had only gritted his teeth and shaken his head. He had to train. He mustn't get weak. Those had been his words.
But didn't he see for himself that he was working towards a complete breakdown?
Sweat had soaked his tunic and he had taken it off. He went through Kata after Kata, higher grades, more difficult exercises, higher levels of stress. The sweat on his bare chest mingled with the blood seeping from uncountable little wounds. The probe wasn't really dangerous, but it caused great amounts of pain and small wounds which only tortured his exhausted body further.
She didn't know how he could stand torturing his own body like that. She knew the effects of this kind of training herself - her teachers had often made her repeat certain exercises until the point of exhaustion, but they had always been there to stop her from overdoing it. There was no logic in this self-torture. The outcome of this training couldn't be his body shutting down from exhaustion. She saw the pain on his face, saw the way all of his muscles screamed against this maltreatment - but he stoically kept pushing himself further.
In the beginning it had fascinated her to watch him. His movements held an elegance she had seen only very seldom in fighters, they were fluid and graceful, never ever looked strained.
But now his movements were edgy, just as if only his strong will was keeping him from collapsing.
Her hands cramped in the soft material of her tunic as she walked up to him over the clearing with determined steps. She had watched this long enough. He was not going to abuse himself to death in front of her eyes.
Long shadows began to move over the clearing in the middle of the jungle and indicated that evening was near.
Again the probe whizzed at the Jedi with a menacing hum - and this time he stumbled, giving the unit a free line of shot. A fine line of purple light rushed up to Kenobi and hit him in his unprepared sword arm. With a muffled scream he dropped the light sabre - it fell to the ground and the green light vanished immediately. The probe whizzed with the unpleasant buzzing of an angry insect around Kenobi and got ready to fire again.
The unit would never fire again. The well-known sound of the light sabre parted the air and the probe, not programmed to fight two opponents, fell apart with a shrill whiz as the sabre caught it.
When Obi-Wan raised his head to look out for the unit, he saw the probe neatly severed into two different parts lying on the soft forest soil. Next to it stood the queen - the recently fallen light sabre gripped firmly and elegantly in both hands. In her eyes sadness, disappointment and slight anger were mingled. Without a word she deactivated the sabre and walked back to the temple buildings, clutching the weapon firmly in her hand.
"Please . . ."
She didn't hear his hoarse whisper. He stayed behind, alone in the clearing, night falling over him and he felt so lonely and weak that he could have screamed from the agony of it.
***
TBC
