He stood like a weary scarecrow in the midst of a far-reaching field of golden weeds- plants Padme surely could have named for him. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his fists bunched in conflict, his face upturned to the cerulean blue sky. A mild, warm wind pulled at his threadbare cloak, caressed his face that desperately needed a shave. It was a bittersweet comfort that eased his gritty eyes to a soft close. How had life gotten so complicated? How had Padme managed to get under his skin the way no one else had? It seemed all that had troubled him on Coruscant had doubled and worsened. Even here on this paradise of a planet, he was haunted.

The image of the bruises stood out starkly in his mind's eye. Was Anakin really capable of injuring the woman he had loved since a child? For years Obi-Wan had watched his padawan dream, wish for, obsess over his so-called angel. Was his transformation becoming so drastic that he would abuse Padme? Had Obi-Wan failed that terribly at his task of training the lad?

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as he felt her approach. His first instinct was to scoop her up and scold her for getting out of bed but a memory of their recent quarrel interfered. He remained where he was, showing no signs that he could feel her presence as clearly as if she was his shadow. There was complete silence over the plains for a second as if every beast and foul on Alderaan was holding their breath.

Padme's hand pressed against his shoulder, his muscles tensed, coiled like a spring under her warm palm. She spoke in a gentle voice that broke the quiet.

"I no longer wish to fight with you, Obi-Wan. We're all each other have on this planet. We can't be tearing each other apart."

"Is that your diplomatic solution?" he asked bitterly from a source he couldn't name. "Is it the politician in you seeking a truce?"

Padme smiled briefly to herself, to his strong, broad back.

"If I was following the politician in me, I would be calling for a committee and logically discussing whether or not to veto your presence. Please, Obi-Wan, I'm being honest."

The sincere upturn to her statement drew him around to face her, her hand falling regrettably away from him. He studied her, weak and pale but beautiful and firm like spring escaping winter. Her gaze was blatantly searching him for a response and he wished her eyes weren't always roving him suspiciously or worriedly. He sighed, running a dirty hand through his tangle of hair.

"Yes, you're right, of course. I will be on my best behavior from now on."

"I have learned not to trust any man when he says such a thing," Padme teased, clearly baiting him. There was too much whirling inside Obi-Wan to joke back though. Her jest only brought back the picture of Anakin inflicting marks upon her skin. He said simply,

"I am sorry for before. I had no right to pose such accusations." His mouth rebelled against the lie and he wondered if telling falsehoods got easier with time. "I was just concerned for your welfare, Padme."

He waited for a response of any variety- snaky or sweet since he never could predict what would come from the senator's mouth. Her head was twisted sideways, facing away from him as if flocks of birds were consuming her attention. No response came. Not a twitch, not a blink, not a sigh. Eyes narrowed wonderingly, Obi-Wan tugged slightly on her sleeve.

"Padme? Are you alright?"

She finally turned to him, only at his insistence. Her tears shocked him. Her wide eyes glittered like saucers, oceans welling up and splattering down her cheeks. Her weeping was silent unlike her banshee-like cries of last night. Her lower lip trembled, shaking her noble chin. She struggled to get a full breath and uttered the one word that made Obi-Wan understand.

"Anakin."

He knew then. He knew all his suspicions were correct. Darkness had begun to wallow in his padawan's soul and it had gotten to the depth that even Padme, a normal Force-less being, could recognize. He felt a dam of his own break and tears he hadn't known existed threatened to spill out. Anakin was ripping everyone who loved him apart. This was his destruction. Gulping and straining to control himself, Obi-Wan opened his arms to the grieving girl who wept before him. She came to him without a word and together they fell to the ground, holding each other as they mourned for the little boy they had met years ago on Tatooine.

~*~*~*~*~

The sweet aching sound of land crickets awoke Padme from a sleep she hadn't known she'd fallen into. The soft tilled earth of the field served as her bed as yellow stalks of Aridna Wheat towered over her like a canopy. Once again she found herself tangled about Obi-Wan, the back of her head tucked against the crook of his throat, the weight of her leg thrown backwards on top of his. She heard his heartbeat reverberate through her back, steady and drumming. He was still asleep. His deep breath inhaled and exhaled like a strong breeze over the crown of her head.

Wondering amusedly how they had managed to doze until nightfall in the field, the memory of their shared grief sprung anew. She had showed such weakness in front of this great man laying beside her; he had seen her at her absolute worst- boiling with unrighteous anger, freezing with loathing, overwhelmed by uncontrollable grief. She had subjected him to every high and low, every brunt of her emotions, whether he deserved it or not. Still he had remained steadfast, faithful to his duty to protect her. Most people would have left at the first insult she had hurled at him with her acid tongue. Not Obi-Wan.

Doing her best to roll over without waking him, she studied his weather-bronzed face, relaxed in sleep. Cautiously, slowly as if still in a dream, she touched him, trailing her fingers over his cheeks. His neck. Eyes, nose and forehead. Softly she touched him, amazed at how real he felt. Anakin had always felt part-dream, part-fantasy- her beautiful, golden boy. When she touched Anakin, she always feared someday he would disappear before her eyes like a figment of her imagination. Obi-Wan was worlds apart; he was solid, tangible. He made her feel safe in his presence. She knew in sudden certainty that she would never have to fear for Obi-Wan in the way she daily feared for Anakin. There was no restlessness, no betrayal.

She still had her cool fingertips resting on the sides of his face when his eyes eased open. Blurred with the remnants of sleep, he blinked as if trying to push the dream-world from his vision. His eyes, the gray of a winter sky, bored into her, his brow furrowed a little in confusion. Lost in the depths of him as she took notice of every line, scar, every imperfection, she began to do what felt natural. Her lips lowered until they hovered a hairs-breadth over his, her breath softly falling. His body went tight, losing all its sleepy slackness, his muscles bunched in wait. She moved to kiss him-

Thunder rolled in a deafening crack across the darkening sky, driving them apart, gasping for breath. The rain came a split-second later, sluicing down from the starless ceiling. It poured down like needles upon the shocked couple who seemed frozen- even as sheets began to drench them immediately. It was Padme who broke the silence first. Like the sound of bells over the roaring of the wind, almost hysterical laughter bubbled out of her throat. It wasn't long after she started that Obi-Wan's chuckle could be heard. Together, laughing as if rain was the funniest event in the world, they took of running through the plains, heading for the silhouette of their lonely cabin. Lightning flashed around them. Bright, then twilight, like lights from the clubs on Coruscant. Partially blinded and still erupting with laughter, they bounded through the torrential downpour, ignoring the pricks of the painful rain.

They burst through the door of the cabin, falling against the walls for balance, their guts aching with overuse. Padme gasped out.

"I thought Alderaan had predictable weather."

"Maybe they were predicting it," Obi-Wan chuckled, holding his chest. "We are many miles from any sort of civilization if you recall."

"Oh, when are Holonet weathercasters correct anyway?" she giggled as their glee finally began to subdue, their breathing returning to normal. Her question stood out starkly as they fell into uncomfortable silence, the sound of the storm their only music. They were soaked to the bone, their clothes clinging like a second skin. Obi-Wan's gaze was drawn like a magnet to the outline of Padme's body and a lump caught in his throat. Her flimsy gown was plastered to her curves, accentuating the womanliness he had been secretly admiring for the past few days. A slow, slightly uneasy smile curved her lips.

"Well I think we should get out of these clothes. Wouldn't want to add pneumonia to all the scrapes and bruises the explosion gave us."

"Not to mention, bumps on the head," he grinned, boldly outstretched a hand and stroked her now wet bandage. His hand strayed down the length of her pale cheek and lingered long along enough to send color sparking up her neck. She stuttered, taking a step back quickly,

"I-I'm fine. Now please were there any other gowns?"

Obi-wan bit back the grin that tempted to spread across his face and solemnly shook his head, noting her girlish dismay. He shrugged and offered,

"I do have a few tunics that are clean and dry though. They won't cover every inch of you like your normal ten feet of frippery but it should do."

Padme giggled in spite of herself.

"My gowns really disgust you, don't they? Most people are in awe of them- complete unique creations, you know."

"I just believe beauty is best appreciated in its natural form. Take your hair, for instance." To demonstrate, he took handfuls of her wet, curling mane and twisted his fingers in it. "Your hair is a marvel but not when it's bound up in those silly convoluted contraptions. You are Padme without those blasted costumes. With them on you become that confounded senator/ex-matriarch that drives me insane. Personally I prefer this blushing, barefoot girl before me."

Padme was confused as to whether she should be offended or not. He had just admitted that he disliked her political side, a side integral to her very soul…and yet somehow she wasn't. Lately she hadn't even liked herself. Besides to hear any sort of compliments from Obi-Wan's mouth was like honey. She wondered distantly if he tasted as delicious as he sounded, then went stiff at the realization of the thought. Quickly she hurried over to the clothing chest and ordered,

"Fine, I'll wear one of your tunics but no one must know about this. And turn your back, Obi-Wan," she ended the statement sharply.

Obi-Wan chuckled dryly, turning his back obligatorily.

"Aren't you used to a life made up of secrets, Padme? It's as if the whole universe lives like strangers from everyone else. Are you done yet? How hard is it to change?"

"Oh hush," she mock-snapped good-naturedly as she pulled the gown away from her skin and over her head. It made a smacking noise as it hit the floor with a wet plop. Facing the wall, Obi-Wan felt his breath go uneven in the knowledge she stood a few feet away, completely naked. Padme could almost sense his detached interest and she took her time dressing. Stretching like a cat, she held the tunic open and slowly slipped it over her quickly chilling body, relishing in its immediate warmth. The soft, worn material smoothed over her body like velvet and she smelled the scent of the Jedi master all around her. Finally she said, jumping into the depths of the bed,

"There. You may turn now. I'm decent."

The Force help him. It had taken every ounce of his will not to use the Force and peek, to take a look at the body that had been daunting him for days. Sighing in his frustrations, he turned and noticed the tunic only fell to mid-thigh on her, showing a pair gorgeous…He stopped and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Time for you to do the same, miss. Then I'll see about building us a fire, alright?"

Padme turned around on the bed, dutifully covering her eyes. She tried to berate herself for the thoughts she was having but she couldn't force it. She toyed with the idea of nude Obi-wan behind her, wondering if he was as finely muscled as she imagined. It felt like playful agony, waiting for him to tell her that it was safe, that he was decent. Finally he chuckled.

"Everything's covered now, Padme. You can stop daydreaming."

"Ah the Jedi assumes too much," she teased, scooting up on the bed next to him. "Who says I was daydreaming about you?"

"Ah the politician divulges too much, "he grinned. "I never said anything about daydreaming about me. But now that I know you were, it completely changes everything."

Padme groaned, throwing her arms above her head.

"You're completely insufferable, Obi-Wan."

He sent another earth-quaking grin her way that raised her temperature and shook her knees. This time, her attempt at pretending failed and he noticed all too well the effect he had on her. It shocked him but by the Force, it pleased him. Slowly he neared where she kneeled on the bed, never releasing her from his thrall. As if music was playing, as if life was directly coursing through the both of them, the moved in a dream world. She stood unsteadily on the bed, grasping the front of his shirt for balance. She whispered,

"Let's play our roles again…like we did in the restaurant and with Lirta. Let's just be Ben and Padme for the night."

He didn't answer. At least, not in the way she expected. He crushed her to him with surprising force with a strength that somehow didn't frighten her. His mouth latched onto hers as if it was his oxygen and she melted into him, forgetting that anything outside of the little cabin on Alderaan existed.