Chapter Three-Ways and Means
Amidala baited her trap carefully. Though she was not by nature a cheerful person, she schooled herself to be so in Obi-Wan's presence. She considered this necessary because of his quite obvious despondency. Since Hasma's departure, he had become unnaturally quiet and withdrawn.
She considered her competition: all of the other female Aestri, several Jedi, and of course, Beru. The latter was the most dangerous, in Amidala's estimation. She knew Obi-Wan very well, and she was nearly as ruthless as Amidala herself. Which even Amidala was willing to admit was ruthless indeed.
But it didn't seem to work; in fact, after a few days, she suspected that he was avoiding her.
Maybe he liked calm women? Amidala wondered. But then, Beru was calm, and he seemed to pay as little attention to her as he did to Amidala. What *did* he want?
Eventually she toned down the cheerfulness down quite a bit. This worked better; Obi-Wan stopped avoiding her. He even seemed to enjoy her company, but no more so than any other of the Aestri, she thought despairingly.
Finally she decided on a more direct approach. If she waited for Obi-Wan to make the first move, she'd be old and grey before he lifted a finger. Men, reflected Amidala darkly, weren't very energetic.
So when she received an invitation to the First Reception, a diplomatic gathering marking the start of legislative season on Corsucrant, she was overjoyed. That was perfect! She would need a male escort, and who better to ask?
It proved more difficult than she had anticipated. After all, she accepted that as she had the higher rank, Obi-Wan could not ask her. She would have to ask him. But how to broach the subject?
Talking to him alone presented another difficulty. He always seemed to be surrounded by a crowd: Beru; his brother, Owen; his padawan, Anakin; and a host of boring Aestri students, Jedi Knights, and other assorted nuisances. Amidala was not about to approach him with an audience watching, but she could not think of a way to get him alone.
But one day during a lesson, one of the other students took ill. It didn't seem very serious, but the other students flocked around, trying to help her to the nearby med centre. Except Amidala. She stayed behind.
Obi-Wan was packing up his lesson equipment, and preparing to follow the crowd of students. When he noticed her, he looked up and said, in a kind voice, "Yes, Amidala?"
Amidala was undeceived. He was working hard to conceal his impatience, she saw. She was better with the Force than anybody at the Temple seemed to realize, perhaps because her talent often expressed itself in nonstandard ways.
"Obi-Wan," she said, and then found that she could say no more.
"Yes?" He said again, now rather puzzled. "Is something wrong? Are you feeling sick, too?"
"No," Amidala said.
"Can I help you, then?"
"Yes."
Obi-Wan gave her an amused look. "Well, that's a relief! Tell me how?"
"I have an invitation to the First Reception," Amidala heard herself blurting out. "I need an escort."
A pained look came over Obi-Wan's face, and he stood up. "That's nice," he said neutrally. "Maybe one of your fellow students--"
"No!" Amidala exclaimed. "I need someone--older."
He frowned. "No, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't--"
He's going to turn me down, Amidala thought frantically. He's going to turn me down, and that will be that. Unless I think fast.
"Please, Obi-Wan!" she cried. "Hear me out! I need some help--my mother will be at the reception!"
"Surely you don't need protection from your mother," he said, smiling.
"Not her, exactly," Amidala said. "Godoy, yes. He used to be her secretary, but now he's Prime Minister."
Obi-Wan's mouth twisted. "Quite a career leap," he said drily.
"Oh, yes," Amidala said bitterly. "And they say he's also her--" She stopped, unable to say it. Not to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan looked at her and sighed. "Sit down, Amidala, and tell me about it."
So Amidala sat down and told Obi-Wan that she was afraid of Godoy (true enough) and that she feared that he would force her back to Naboo (not true at all.)
"So don't you see?" she said, forcing out a few decorative tears. "I need someone to protect me." Laying it on thick, her grandmother's voice sneered in her head I don't care, she muttered back defiantly, I don't care. If you want something, you don't just stand there. You go after it!
Obi-Wan did look a little flattered, by the gods. "Very well, then," he said. "I'd be happy to take you." And Amidala tasted the joy of that inadvertent innuendo for the next week.
She had work to do, of course. She had to ensure that her mother would be at the First Reception. Having promised Obi-Wan the opportunity to protect her from something, she had better provide the something to be protected from.
This involved swallowing her pride and making a holocall home, something she had avoided in the past year.
Amidala feared her mother might refuse to talk to her. After all, they had not parted on the best of terms. But her fear proved unfounded. Derzela's face appeared on the screen quickly. She looks-old, Amidala thought with sudden distaste.
"What is it, Amidala?" she said with uncharacteristic sharpness.
"Can't I just call because I want to talk to you?" Amidala asked, schooling her voice to amused exasperation and restraining a desire to cut the connection.
"You've managed well enough without talking to me lately," Derzela said.
Ah, Amidala thought, she's going to pout. The gods preserve us, she's the biggest fool in the Middle Rim.
"Mother," Amidala said, keeping calm by fixing her mind on Obi-Wan, "the First Reception is coming up. Are you going to be there?"
"Why?" Derzela asked sulkily.
"Because you usually do attend, don't you? And if so, we could have a visit."
"I didn't know you were anxious to see me, Amidala," Derzela said.
Amidala gave her a broad, false smile. "Well, I am. Will you come?"
Derzela forgot her temper and smiled back. "Of course, honey, if you want me-" she said in a mollified tone, "But you must realize---Godoy would have to come with me--"
"That's fine," Amidala said politely, after a short silence.
Derzela looked amazed, as well she might, Amidala thought ruefully, since the last time I saw her, I told her I wouldn't tolerate his presence within a galatic parasec. It's love, mother. And not for you.
If Amidala had been older, she might have been touched by Derzela's gratitude. But she was too embarrassed by her own change of front to notice it.
Derzela, entranced by the prospect of a reconciliation with her youngest daughter, wanted to talk. Amidala managed to fob her off, promising to meet her at the First Reception.
The next consideration was her appearance. She would have one opportunity to catch Obi-Wan's attention; she would have to make the best of it. Her Aestri robes covered everything of interest, and students were not allowed jewelry or make-up.
She skipped her lessons for the next few days to work on it. She decided on haut Nubian style. It had shocked her to learn that Naboo was considered a provincial backwater by the sophisticates of Corsucrant. So she decided that she would show them how wrong they were. Nubian style was high on display, and display was exactly what Amidala had in mind.