Chapter 5

The gown was simple, but by far the finest she had ever worn. The shimmer-silk was the muted, dusty violet color of the skin of a muja fruit. The weave toned down the sheen of the fabric so that it was a sophisticated gleam.

Ravi was there, close by her side. Ravi, crying of happiness and insisting she needed flowers. She could not possibly do this without flowers. He had gone out and gotten her a cluster of long, elegant tubular blooms in a lighter shade than her dress. She was sure they had been an extravagant expense. She heard the stems squeak as they rubbed together as she clutched the simple ribbon-wrapped bouquet. Valia was so grateful for his gift and his good taste in these matters, but she wished he would stop dabbing his eyes and carrying on so.

The sky was an impossibly blue dome overhead. Impossible for Coruscant. But there it was, as though the weather had graciously decided to cooperate for this very special day. The shadows of all the airborne traffic were sharply outlined, rising and falling, up and down the brightly lit sides of the buildings. They did not bring to mind the hurried pace of the city. Not like usual. Not today. They seemed all part of a grand parade of celebration.

A breeze lifted the narrow cape behind her that the dress sported. But the sun was warm on the skin of her bare shoulders. The gown would please him very much. She squinted, smiling with pure joy up at the bright blue sky. And then he was walking toward her, across the sunlit landing platform. How had he gotten here? She had not seen a ship drop him off. But it didn't matter. He was here, joining her and then they would go on together to their next destination. Qui-Gon was on one knee before her, bowing deeply over her hands. He held both of them close to his chest and was kissing them. Get up, she urged, laughing at his sweetly gallant gesture in the middle of a landing platform for all the world to see. Get up. We'll be late. We're running out of time. My sweet love.

Now they were standing before a huge circular window overlooking the cityscape. The priest was gently taking their right arms and binding their wrists together with a ceremonial green ribbon. Round and round, securing them together. The ribbon was so long; endless it seemed. The priest spoke as he wrapped. Round and round. He spoke the words that she knew would secure them together in heart and spirit. Words of marriage. Words only for the two of them, so soon to be husband and wife. Only for them.

A divided awareness did not seem at all strange to her at first. Pillow cloth against her cheek, and the tug of a soft ribbon on her wrist at once. Then the sensations separated and she became confused. No, thought Valia, trying to hold the fading threads of the image in her mind. She closed her fist tightly as if that would keep the precious ribbon from sliding off. She kept her eyes closed as more awareness filtered in and the dream faded. Maybe she would drift to sleep again and she could find it and enter it again. She snuggled her face deeper into the pillow, crushing her eyelashes against the fabric. But it was too late. She was awake.

Why did she want to hang on so tightly to a dream like this? And maybe...maybe this dream wasn't her idea. Realization flooded warm surprise into her stomach. Qui-Gon. Was he dreaming this with her? Sometimes he made them dream together. Vivid and beautiful dreams. He could be such a tease sometimes, but marriage...? The very idea! But she smiled at the sweetness of it. Her eyes still closed, she burrowed an arm over to reach for him beneath the covers. Valia found nothing but the empty, cool side of the bed. Now she opened her eyes. No Qui-Gon next to her. Automatically she dragged herself to the edge of the bed and did a quick check of the floor next to it. Occasionally she would find him there, having spent the last part of the night sleeping in more comfort than the bed offered. He shunned a too-soft mattress and the aching back it caused him. She supposed she had herself to blame if the man thought of beds as only good for one thing. But no Qui-Gon there either, smiling up at her. Valia hung drowsily over the edge of the bed, having by now realized she was alone in her old bedchamber in her family's home. On Nyme'. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were staying in the guesthouse. Judging from the amount of morning light coming through the window, they probably had been awake for hours.

She sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. She tried to recapture the details of her dream, but they were already rapidly fading, as they do. This dream had been all her own. Where had she gotten it from, and why had she dreamed of getting married? It had not been something she had really thought of until just lately. Why? And where had she gotten those bright details? Were they from bits and pieces of things she had seen and heard recently and strung them together in an entertaining vision? While the imagery was fading, the feeling from the dream was not. She had been happy and warm and content.

She did not know it, but it was the last time she would feel anything close to that good until sometime at the end of that day. So she got out of bed to blithely face it. She resolved to put the fanciful dream out of her head, but she kept thinking of bits of it the whole time she quickly bathed and dressed for the day. She had always vaguely assumed she'd some day get married and somehow have children. Or even adopt them, whether she had a mate or not. But that some day had been forgotten in the hustle of her life, the wild and careless partying that had marked her first years away from here, and the drive to establish herself as a businesswoman on Coruscant. Even before she had left Nyme', she remembered dismissing that imagined life coldly and with more than a little self-pity. Who would want to marry an infertile woman? Now, of course, she realized that was not an impediment to married life, but it seemed like only a wishful fairy tale for other reasons. It might be nice, but not really practical for her life now. She enjoyed her independence and fanatically loved her freedom. She rarely spent any time at home these days. What sort of wife would she make anyway, she idly wondered as she chose a gown to wear. She supposed that might depend on the husband. She didn't know. She had never given the subject too much thought.

She braided sections of her hair and coiled them in an attractive halo around her head. It was an indulgence to be able to do all this styling with her hair, and wear clothes that didn't hinder flights from one of her stores to another. Clothes she didn't need to worry about getting fruit juice on. Clothes that were fine and flattering, that reflected Core World fashions and would hardly be daily wear hereabouts. She admitted to herself that she was flaunting herself. Just a tiny bit. A successful exile returned, never mind that the exile had been partially self-imposed. And she could wear whatever she liked right now, whatever made her feel good. She was determined to keep her outlook of this trip as a vacation, at least part of the time.

She left her bedchamber, quietly closing the heavy wooden door behind her. The house was as solidly constructed and charmingly old-fashioned on the inside as it was on the outside. Valia padded down the cool tiled corridor and made her way down toward the kitchen. She was glad she had some distance between her room and the rest of the family, which was quartered in a relatively newer wing on the other side of the house. Velk, Prawni, their three young daughters and one son lived in that area, along with her parents. A visiting friend, uncle, aunt or one of numerous cousins might be found in residence at any given time as well. The house was a hub of familial comings and goings. It had always been a hive of activity growing up, doors wide open to the neighborhood. She had never thought about this much before, but she found herself appreciating the fact that this had not changed.

She heard voices as she neared the kitchen. One was unmistakably her mother's. Another, deep and soft with a familiar timbre, was Qui-Gon's. Valia paused before entering the cavernous kitchen through the arched doorway and took in the scene of domestic tranquility.

Qui-Gon was seated at the head of the enormous wooden farm table, with Obi-Wan around the corner at his right hand. The wreckage of a truly impressive breakfast lay before them. There were several abandoned places at the table, but everything had been pushed to their end for convenient reach. There were a good two dozen different dishes on the table, and still enough food on the table to feed an entire team of migrant workers. Three kinds of meat, two kinds of eggs, hot and cold cereals, an abundant array of freshly baked breads and cakes, and offerings of fruits from the kitchen garden and every corner of the Traxis orchards. Qui-Gon had pushed himself back from the table, his long legs stretched beneath it, clearly having finished. His arms were contentedly folded across his broad chest, and he looked like he was contemplating a mid-morning nap right where he sat. Obi-Wan was actually showing signs of surrender even as Binny placed yet another heaping, steaming serving bowl on the table before the Jedi. She waited, as though expecting them to hold out their plates for a serving.

Qui-Gon eyed the bowl with a lazy smile, as though this was something that had been repeated over again that morning. "Were I physically able, I would. But really, no. Thank you."

"Oh, are you sure? Everyone in this house starts the day with a proper breakfast."

Qui-Gon's smile shaded to ironic amusement. "And that we have done, thanks to all your devoted efforts, Binny. This goes well beyond 'proper'."

Valia smiled. It had been Mrs.Traxis all yesterday. This morning it was Binny.

"We've been served poorer fare than this in some royal palaces," said Obi-Wan with total honesty.

"Oh, my! Well, it's just my simple cooking. My family's tried and true favorites."

"Tell me, do you start them off like this every day?" Qui-Gon smiled up at her.

Binny smiled back and surveyed the loaded table, hands on her hips. "Well, maybe I did get a tiny bit carried away. But I haven't had off-world guests to cook for in the longest time."

"That's a pity, considering the hospitable way you begin their day. Really, everything was marvelous. I can hardly imagine what you have planned for lunch."

Binny absolutely glowed at him, her cheeks pink. Valia half expected her to affectionately chuck him under the chin. "You just come back here around mid-day, and find out," she said, turning back to the array cooking units and steaming pots on the stovetop set in a large, arched alcove.

Valia walked forward into the kitchen. "I see you two have found the quickest way to my mother's heart is through your own stomach," she remarked. Her mother looked up and immediately left the stove and reached out to hug her.

"And you! Awake finally! Good morning, dear." Valia found herself in yet another smothering hug. She returned it and smiled a greeting at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan over her mother's shoulder. "Speaking of off-world guests! If you don't come home more often, I'll hardly know whether to treat you as guest or family any more," Binny said. Valia silently endured yet another chorus of good-natured, veiled scolding. Not the first she had heard since they had arrived, and she was certain it would not be the last.

"What's this about being 'finally' awake?" Valia defended herself with sleepy good humor as she made her way to the table. "This is earlier than I ever get up on my earliest day at home." She pulled out a chair and took a seat across from Obi-Wan. She had had to quickly check herself from kissing Qui-Gon, or at least giving one of his shoulders a caress. She suddenly regretted her insistence on keeping their relationship strictly to themselves while they were here. Especially at the moment. My, oh my, did he look good there at the head of the table, like a benevolent, noble family patriarch. And especially in the afterglow of the dream she had just had.

"Now Lia, it's just that everyone else has been up and about for hours now. And the time passed so quickly. Qui-Gon and I were having the nicest chat over tea before the sun was up, and he was keeping me company while I was getting breakfast ready."

Why was she not surprised, thought Valia. A nice little pre-dawn chat, hmmm? She wondered what the subjects of that discussion had been. Or, rather more likely, what the subjects of her mother's discussion had been while Qui-Gon had listened. Valia smiled up at Qui-Gon out of the corners of her eyes. The big schmooze. He was looking at her with hooded but sparkling eyes. He held her eyes with that look and Valia was left sitting in her chair with the swift and uncanny sensation that she had just enjoyed a full-blown good morning kiss and hug with him. She gave herself a mental shake and smiled. She groped for the bowl Binny had just delivered to the table. She helped herself to a small serving of the cracked steamed grain mixture. This was far earlier than she was used to eating in the morning, but everything smelled so good. And she needed something to occupy herself, to better try to ignore the lingering ghost of lips still drifting over hers, hands around her back. And her mother would comment immediately if she did not have at least a bite of something. The morning sun was shining through the wide windows behind Obi-Wan. Valia dreamily stared at the beautiful jewel-colored fruit preserves mounded in a dish on the table, admiring the way the light glowed through them as though lighting them from within. She realized Obi-Wan was looking at what she was doing, his lips pursed in a smile. She looked down and with a small jump realized she had drizzled honey over the hot cereal in her bowl as she had intended, and the edge of the bowl, and all over the table as well. Her mother gave her a long look and plopped a fresh pot of tea down on the table beside her. "Land's sakes, you really are still half asleep," she said after a pause and returned to the stove.

Qui-Gon had leaned forward, elbows on the table now. Valia sopped up the sticky mess and glanced over at him again. He was steepling his hands together, the edges pressed against his nose and mouth in a casual pose, to help hide his impish smile. His eyes were positively shining with merriment at her. Now there was a very persistent warm tickling sensation running around the edge of her right ear. Stop it. She was going to start laughing aloud in another few seconds. Later! She briefly thought of kicking or pinching him under the table. It was too early for this, and he was enjoying this a little too much. Teasing her about having to restrain her behavior, and daring her to be annoyed with him. He stopped just before she could put her foot to his boot. Valia smiled sweetly and turned her attention down to her breakfast. She was aware that Binny had been speaking at length to her and she had only caught the end of what she'd been saying, and it seemed to have been a question.

"What?" said Valia distractedly, taking a bite.

"I was saying I never knew they ate all the same things anyone else ate."

"Who?"

"Jedi," Binny said patiently.

"Well, of course they do, mama. Except for alcohol. What did you think?"

"Oh, I don't know. I had heard years ago they fasted and didn't eat anything at all, but I thought that couldn't be true."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been encountering all sorts of rustic little misconceptions about Jedi since they had arrived. Some they had chosen to let lie. Others, not.

"Have we managed to debunk that myth for you, Mrs. Traxis?" asked a smiling Obi-Wan, pushing his plate away at last.

"Yes, and quite well," laughed Binny. Had Obi-Wan been on the near side of the table, she might have delightedly patted his shoulder or head.

A kitchen staff member banged in backwards through the door leading from the kitchen garden bearing two armloads of freshly picked herbs.

"Just put them over there, Gerrul," Binny pointed with a free hand toward a small movable prep station.

"Mama, what time did you get up this morning to start cooking all this?" Valia asked.

"Oh, early." Binny flapped her hand in a vague gesture. "I don't remember. Not quite all of this is for today, if that's what you're thinking. Some of it I'm making ahead for tomorrow night. I had gotten to thinking it had been ages since we had invited everyone in the area for a big dinner. Family and neighbors, a big casual summer feast like we used to have. I was turning it over in my mind, and Qui-Gon kindly encouraged the idea. I wasn't sure if this sort of thing would go over well, what with he and his apprentice wanting to relax and enjoy the quiet. But he told me it would be no problem at all, that we should just do as we normally would. And besides, we have the generous gods to thank for such a good harvest, and you're home. So we have lots of reasons to get together to celebrate, don't you think?"

Valia smiled at Qui-Gon over the rim of her tea cup. "Yes," she said slowly. "Yes, we certainly do, don't we?" she said. Family and neighbors invited over, indeed. Neighbors, including the Dekkars.

Did you use--

No. Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair with an expression of the innocent wrongly accused. His smiling look of 'Who, me? Use the Force on your sainted mother?' was another quick tease only for her. I didn't need to.