Chapter 22. The Two Doors

Dellia was flushed pink from excitement. Even though she was technically Padmé's Executive Secretary, she'd long had the feeling that she was deliberately left out of a great many events and decisions that took place in and around the Naboo delegation offices. When Sabé was there Padmé tended to deliver her requests to Dellia through the Handmaiden. Once Captain Typho and the little girl had arrived, Dellia hardly had spoken to Padmé in person at all. Whatever went on, Dellia was convinced that she always was the last to know.

Until now.

She had come in early because… well, because Lon had come in early. She blushed at the thought that for the first time he had spent the whole night at her small flat On this precious occasion Lon had woken up suddenly, very early in the morning, and said that he had to go right away because he had sensed something in the Force.

The Force. The Jedi were still a complete mystery to Dellia. She had only nodded mutely and offered to go in to the Senate with him. Getting up together and arriving at work together made it seem as though… as though… Dellia barely dared express the idea even in the privacy of her own thoughts…  as though they had a right to be together.

So here she was, bright and early. And for a change, she was among the first to learn that Anakin had murdered the Chief of Security in order to take over command during the crisis in the Chamber.

The day ahead promised to be anything but boring.

By mid-morning Padmé still hadn't arrived at the office, which was highly unusual. Nor had anyone informed Dellia what to expect. She had rescheduled the morning's appointments and was picking up her COM link to call the Residence when the outer doors to the office finally opened and Padmé arrived, wearing a heavy veil, and accompanied by…

Oh, dear. It was Anakin Skywalker. He walked straight into the outer office with Padmé, as openly as you please, and stopped by Dellia's desk to say "good morning."

Dellia stared at him in morbid fascination, but quickly became uneasy when his eyes seemed to penetrate into her thoughts. It was one thing to be privy to the gossip about him, but quite another to have him standing in front of her giving her his full attention. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she was a little bit afraid of him. And after what Lon had said about him…

Padmé pushed up her veil and… and it was Sabé. Dellia hated it when they did that. She almost never knew in advance.

Sabé smiled cheerfully. "Good morning, Dellia! I'm sorry no one called, but there was a last-minute change of plans. I finally was able to convince Padmé to take the day off after yesterday's terrible events and spend the day with Balé instead."

Dellia nodded dumbly, wondering whether Padmé's decision to stay away had anything to do with… her eyes slipped back to Anakin. He was still watching her.

"They're going to see a play, I think," Sabé chatted on. Then she turned to Anakin.

"Thank you so much for accompanying me," she said to him. "I don't mean to keep you, but could I have a word with you in Padmé's office before you go?"

"As you wish," Anakin said politely, and bowed.

Sabé smiled cheerfully at Dellia. "Would you mind clearing Padmé's appointment schedule for today? And after that, why don't you take the rest of the day off? I don't think any of us can settle down to work after yesterday."

Dellia agreed, and watched them retreat into the inner office and close the door. She couldn't wait to finish up and go find Lon. If she were lucky, she still would be able to catch him before he left for the Jedi Temple.

She thought he might be interested to know that Anakin had been here.

* * * * *

Sabé slipped into Padmé's chair with a groan.

"Dellia's going to be a problem," she said. It wasn't a question. It was a conclusion.

Anakin had chosen to stand by the window behind her, looking out over the panorama of the city. From this angle he could just see the spires of the Jedi Temple in the distance.

"She is already a problem. She has heard the rumors, and she believes them." He was quite certain from whom she had heard them. "And it is a very bad idea for me to be here right now."

Sabé accepted his assertion about Dellia without comment. Whatever her personal feelings about Anakin, she never underestimated his abilities.

"Yes, I know. I won't keep you long. I need to ask you something. In private. Just for myself."

Anakin turned around and looked at her levelly, feeling somehow that he needed to prepare himself for what was to come.

Sabé let him have it straight out. "Are you and Padmé married?"

There was a long, long silence, during which Anakin turned back to the window and resumed gazing out of it. Sabé allowed the silence to hang between them as long as necessary. Since she didn't fill it, he eventually had to respond.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I have to know now. If I'm going to protect her, I need to understand everything that I have to deal with."

It was by far the most persuasive line of reasoning she could have presented to Anakin.

"She hasn't said anything to you?" He still was gazing at the city.

"No." Sabé's heart started to sink. He wasn't denying it.

Anakin kept his eyes locked on the spires of the Jedi Temple. Perhaps he had something in his eye, or perhaps it was a trick of the light, but it appeared to be receding further and further into the distance.

"Padmé left it up to me whether to announce it," he finally said.

Sabé felt suddenly deflated, as though all the air had left her lungs in a rush. So it was true. She was grateful that she'd already had a little time to get used to the idea. Hearing something like that out of the blue would have been a savage blow. It was so difficult to understand why Padmé – of all people – might have done something this reckless and ill advised.

"And are you going to?" she asked, taking refuge in pragmatism.

Anakin turned around and looked at her in surprise. "In the middle of all this?  Under no circumstances. She needs to stay as far away from me as possible." His voice was calm and steady, but Sabé imagined that she could feel the tension in him.

"I've have told her that she must leave Coruscant with Balé right away," he added.

That time Sabé was sure she heard pain.

"Just for my own satisfaction," she asked, "may I know when all this happened?"

Anakin sighed. It was such a relief to be able to tell someone. But at the same time it seemed as though something was coming to an end. An idyll, perhaps. A dream.

"On Naboo. At the end. When we didn't know whether I would ever get well again."

"At the Lake House," Sabé said, suddenly understanding. "When she refused to allow me to come along."

"Yes."

Sabé took her time about forming a new picture of the past year's events. Anakin left her to it, and went back to looking out the window. Unbidden memories of his wedding to Padmé and the long, desperate months afterward before he found his way back to her surged up from the places he had kept them locked away, tumbling over one another for attention.

Padmé, he called out inadvertently, compelled somehow by the power of the memories.

I'm here, she responded immediately. Are you all right?

Yes. I  just… I don't know. I just needed to know that you're there. Either he or Sabé would tell her about this conversation later. Now was not the time.

What's wrong? She was worried. She had detected the coloration of his thoughts. Nothing having to do with him got past her.

Nothing, he replied, trying hard to be reassuring. I was just…I was just thinking about you.

Anakin turned around to face Sabé. "What did we do to give it away?"

Roused out of her reverie, she looked up absently. "Nothing, really. It was something Balé said. She said…that it feels like a family when you're around."

Anakin felt a lump rise in his throat.

"I don't know why," Sabé went on, "but something clicked."

When Anakin's eyes returned to the window, the Temple was a distant point.

"I get the picture," Sabé was saying. "I may not like it, but at least I know what we're all facing. What I don't know is how far you are prepared to go to protect her." She paused. "How committed you are."

If he squinted Anakin could make the Jedi Temple disappear from the horizon altogether. He forced himself to think about Sabé's question carefully, visualizing as many different scenarios as his fertile imagination could conjure up.

"I will do anything that is required to safeguard her and Balé," he finally said. Sabé didn't respond right away. Pushing himself away from the window with a huge effort, Anakin strode around to the front of Padmé's desk, leaned on it with both hands, and looked Sabé full in the face. "Absolutely anything," he said again. "Their safety is the only thing that matters."

Sabé believed him. For the first time she found herself seeing Anakin through different eyes. The risks he had taken for Padmé were staggering. The arrogance that always had bothered her was looking less like bravado and more like courage. His annoying persistence could, from a different point of view, take on the character of devotion. And most startling of all, his brooding fierceness – that dangerous edge that she had feared and distrusted from the beginning was taking on the appearance of a bristling defensive perimeter that encircled Padmé, and indeed, that protected them all.

"All right," Sabé said practically. "Thank you for being honest with me." She didn't think she ever truly would understand Padmé's passion for this volatile, unsuitable and dangerous… Jedi, of all things…  but the choice had been made. Her unswerving devotion to her mistress made it clear where her loyalties must lie.

She stood up and headed toward the office door. "For what it's worth," she added, lowering the veil in preparation for entering the dangerous and uncertain terrain outside, "we're on the same side."

Anakin actually managed a tiny smile.

"That's a relief," he said. "You would make a formidable enemy." He reached over her shoulder to open the door for her

"So would you," she admitted, quickly putting her hand on his arm to stop him from opening the door just yet.

"On second thought, I'll stay here for a while. We shouldn't leave together."

Sabé pushed up the veil again so that she could look into Anakin's eyes as they stood face to face at the threshold of the unavoidable turmoil that lay beyond the door of Padmé's peaceful office.

"I wish you well," she found herself saying sincerely. "I hope you find your way through all of this."

Anakin bowed to her without any mockery at all.

"I intend to," he said, more confidently than he felt. And then he opened the door and was gone.

* * * * *

For a long time Anakin stood on the wide, windy landing platform of the Galactic Senate building and struggled to know where he should go next. Padmé had listened to him and had heard what was in his heart. He didn't honestly expect either of his Masters – the Jedi Order or the Chancellor – to do the same.

He found himself remembering a story that Obi-Wan had been fond of telling him. It was a teaching tale, a parable from far beyond the Moons of Rexla. In the story a criminal faced the blind, inexorable judgment of destiny by being placed in an arena before two doors. Behind one was a terrible beast that would devour him immediately. Behind the other was a Lady whom he did not know, to whom he would be bound and beholden for the rest of his days. The one choice offered a quick but terrible death; the other, a life not of his choosing. The crux of the story was that above the doors in the arena sat the criminal's true love, who had managed to discover what lay behind each door. She signaled him, indicating one of the doors. But which one had she chosen for him – a quick if savage death or a life without her? The lesson had to do with logic and the nature of choice.

Anakin never had liked the story, and categorically had refused to grapple with its lesson. He always had preferred to believe that there were never only two choices. And until now he pretty much had been able to create new options when he needed them.

And yet here he was, facing the dilemma of the two doors. On one hand he could go back down to the Chancellor's office and explain himself. He didn't hold out much hope of receiving any help there. Chancellor Palpatine had made it clear that Anakin's methods had consequence only if they reflected badly on his office and on himself. Judging by Dellia's reaction to him, and the looks and feelings he had encountered on the short journey from the Naboo delegation offices to the landing platform, he had violated that rule.

On the other hand he could get into an air taxi and go to the Jedi Temple and explain himself there. Considering his already shaky status as a Jedi, Anakin held out as little hope for a fair hearing among those who ostensibly were his peers.

But that wasn't his only hesitation about returning to the Temple. Every Jedi in the Senate Chamber had watched him fail. Without their assistance yesterday's crisis would have turned into a devastating tragedy that sat squarely on his shoulders. As it was, Anakin was convinced that he had demonstrated his weakness – his unworthiness – for all the Jedi to see.

Neither the Chancellor nor the Jedi had summoned him for questioning yet. But he was sure it was just a matter of time. He had to make a move, and quickly, before events caught up with him.

I don't know what to do, he said silently to no one in particular, looking at the busy sky above.

His mind drifted back to the story of the two doors. Who would sit above the doors giving him a signal?  He visualized Padmé there.

"I can't make that choice for you."

No, of all the people in his life, Padmé believed in him. She was counting on him to know what to do, and to do the right thing for both of them – for all of them. Above all things, he mustn't let her down. He was on his own in this one.

He changed the picture to Obi-Wan. In his inner image, his former Master lounged on the railing of the arena, refusing to indicate either door. Watching him. Waiting for him to make his choice.

"You are already a great warrior, Anakin. Now be a great man."

That was no help. He was evidently neither one. That was the whole point.

Time was growing short. Anakin stood alone with his cloak whipping around his ankles as a shuttle roared onto the platform and discharged its passengers. He watched them disperse into the transport lounge, and tried to visualize Chancellor Palpatine standing above the doors.

"This is a world in which, sadly or not, results count for more than methods. Outcomes are the standard by which our work is judged," he said frostily.

Anakin shuddered and erased the image. No, his first assessment had been correct. But that left him with the Jedi after all.

Anakin tried one more time, placing Qui-Gon Jinn's image in that dreaded place of judgment.

Master Jinn stood stolidly with his arms crossed, glaring at Anakin.

"You promised to return to the Temple."

Anakin stared back. They don't want me.

Master Jinn continued to glare.

Anakin sighed. You don't give up, do you?

Master Jinn didn't budge.

"You promised."

Irritated, Anakin grabbed his COM link and called for an air taxi.

Fine, he thought. You win. I hope you enjoy my humiliation and final eviction from the Jedi Order.

Even when he had erased the image from his mind the feeling of Master Jinn's glare remained with Anakin all the way to the Temple, making him feel downright sulky. But he went.

* * * * *

Anakin arrived at the Temple without a clear idea as to how to proceed. His best guess was to seek out Master Yoda and lay the situation out before him. But as soon as he entered the Temple doors – no, even sooner that that: as soon as he entered the Temple compound – Anakin sensed a familiar presence that made his spirit leap, and went searching for its source. He was so intent on his purpose that he hardly noticed the odd looks and uneasy feelings that his passage provoked in the halls, private quarters, library and training rooms of the Temple complex as he systematically widened his search.

Finally his hunt led him to the anteroom of the Council Chamber itself, where his eyes sought in vain for that which he could sense so clearly through the Force.

"Master?" he called out, softly.

There was no response.

He wandered around the anteroom. It appeared to be empty, but the Force told him in no uncertain terms that it wasn't.

"Master Kenobi?" he said again, a little bit louder. There was still no response.

At last he noticed a tattered brown bundle in a far corner, draped over a low chair. When he moved closer Anakin realized that the bundle was actually a worn and damaged cloak that completely covered what could only be the curled-up figure whose Force signature had registered so strongly in his awareness. He moved closer, and stretched out a tentative hand to a part of the shabby-looking heap that might be taken for a shoulder.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin persisted, shaking the shoulder a little.

The figure under the cloak jerked spasmodically and lurched into a partial sitting position, revealing Obi-Wan's head and shoulders. He looked gaunt, and pale, and exhausted. There were deep circles of weariness under his eyes, the side of his face was badly cut and bruised, and his shoulders were hunched.

"I'm happy to see you again," Anakin said.  He meant it.

Obi-Wan had clearly been torn out of a deep sleep and was struggling to focus. He looked Anakin up and down.

"I would say the same thing," he finally said in a voice that rasped slightly, "if I understood what it was that I was seeing."

Puzzled, Anakin looked down at himself.

Oh, no. The suit. He was still wearing his deep blue suit and cloak. No wonder people had looked at him so oddly.

"It wasn't my idea," he protested. "Chancellor Palpatine suggested it."

Obi-Wan looked at him appraisingly. His concentration clearly had improved.

"And you agreed?"

The question startled Anakin. It never had occurred to him that he could refuse the Chancellor's suggestion. Since he didn't have a good answer, he changed the subject.

"Are you all right? You look done in."

As battered as Obi-Wan looked, there was nothing wrong with his focus now, and Anakin felt the Jedi Master's gaze go through him like a laser.

"I could ask you the same thing. What's wrong?"

Anakin sat down suddenly on the chair next to the corner where Obi-Wan remained huddled. All of his defenses seemed to have fallen away at once.

"I'm in trouble," he admitted, surprised at how relieved he felt to be able to say it out loud.

"You usually are," Obi-Wan observed in his long-suffering Master voice.

Anakin unaccountably felt comforted. For a brief, precious moment it felt as though his situation was no worse than usual, and that with Obi-Wan by his side, he would get through it the way he always had before. Anakin wanted to hug him.

The feeling didn't last long, though. The massive doors to the Council Chamber swung open silently behind Obi-Wan. The Council was apparently in session. Anakin glanced inside to see Lon Erian standing its center.

"Not like this," Anakin said bitterly, and steeled himself for what would happen next.