Chapter 6

The day did not improve. Valia went to Alcotis with Prawni, but they stayed not even two hours. Not that it took any longer than that to see the sights and shop the town. Prawni tired quickly and her feet swelled and hurt, and she made every ache and pain known. Valia tapped some unknown reservoir of patience within her, and was solicitous, asking Prawni questions about her pregnancy, the other children, and stopping to let her rest whenever she wished. But that patience wore thin after Prawni's fourth or fifth variation of 'you must be so bored here.'

And people here got too close. This was something that was made all the more annoying by the fact that Valia had forgotten about this tendency since the last time she had been here. On Coruscant, personal space was highly respected since there was so little of it. It was a habit most Coruscanti took for granted. Even on the most crowded boulevard or aboard the most tightly packed taxi, if it wasn't possible to avoid closeness, everyone observed eye-contact manners, and that sheath of insulating social space. Not so for everyone here. The Traxis family's neighbors and friends insisted on catching up with as many personal details of her life as they possibly could, and doing it while standing or sitting as close to her as they could. What was she doing for a living? Was she married? Was she going to get married? Where did she get such a lovely dress? Was she staying or just visiting? Or they simply loved hearing themselves talk. Valia slowly backed away from Mayor Danz Tera until she was pressed against a storefront pillar. She was hard-pressed to concentrate on what he was saying, not that it mattered anyway, while she had such a close study of every hair in his nose and every pore in his ruddy face.

If one more body asked her about her little 'fruit stand' on Coruscant, she might very well scream. After a while, she did not bother to correct anyone, finding it easier to rely on a technique of Qui-Gon's: the art of saying nothing.

And the good folk of Alcotis stared. "Take a holo," she had muttered under her breath at one point. "It lasts longer." Was it her clothing, or was it just because it was her, the noble Traxis family's fallen daughter? Prawni nervously asked her to slow down as she had gunned the landspeeder on their way out of town. It had been a relief to leave Alcotis behind in a cloud of dust and take Prawni back to the house.

She missed Qui-Gon. Late in the afternoon, she had managed to find him for a walk near the house and its surrounding gardens. Prawni had been in one of them and had joined them. The day was warm and clear, and it was pleasant enough to simply wander slowly among the plantings, not engaging in any talk more serious than a comment or question about a particular flower. Prawni was still behaving shyly and demurely around Qui-Gon, though Valia was thinking she was still angling to find a way to ask him if he could tell her if she carried a boy or girl.

They were passing a row of trees growing near the main house. They were tall enough to reach the windows of the upper story. Their branches were beginning to crowd into the house, and the trees were misshapen in a charming sort of way from not being able to grow on that side. Valia remembered these trees bloomed in early spring, filling the air with a spicy fragrance from their creamy white cup-shaped blossoms. The scent would drift into those upper rooms.

"These are the trees that Velk never seems to get around to having taken out," Prawni commented.

"Taken out?" asked Valia, looking up at them. "But why?"

"They're too big and much too close to the house," Prawni said as if even her two-year-old daughter could see this. "And I've never been really fond of them."

Valia felt a sudden wash of despair. Over trees. "But..." Why did a few trees on a world half a galaxy away mean so much to her? Because they were like childhood friends. Yes, they were overgrown, and if let go long enough would certainly damage the house. "But they aren't that bad quite yet. You have a few years yet before they become a serious problem. And maybe they could be moved." Valia knew with a sudden sharpness that she had no control over the matter, no say whatsoever in anything that went on here, however small.

"No, I don't think so. They really need to come out. Oh, I know they might be pretty in some ways, but that's just it: they're only decorative. They don't bear any fruit after they flower. It would be far more useful to plant a low flower or herb border there and replace those old trees somewhere else with another kind of tree, something that has fruit and is productive to the table. Don't you think so?"

Prawni said this with wide blue-eyed earnestness, and for just an instant, Valia wavered between feeling her opinion mattered on the subject, and another feeling altogether different. The feeling she had just been roundly insulted, reminded of her barren condition. But did Prawni have the wit to do what I think she just did, Valia wondered. Did I hear what I think I just heard? Prawni had been known to speak without thinking before, something Velk good-naturedly teased her about. Maybe I'm being too sensitive, she thought, as they moved on, rounding the corner of the house. It was a perfectly legitimate conversation. However, the subject of fertility was old territory between them. Territory Valia suddenly wanted Prawni nowhere near. But the line had been crossed often enough before in years past. Prawni gloried in her reproductive superiority in a way that, intentional or not, never failed to get under Valia's skin. When she wasn't showing how miserable pregnancy was making her feel, she was queen-like in her good moments. On Nyme', especially in this particular region, fertility was revered as a precious gift in women. With the birth of a fifth child, Prawni's reputation as a model wife and mother was secure, especially as the wife of the future head of the household of such a prominent family. What could Valia possibly say? She admired this virtue as much as the next Nymean, but... How many times did she need to repent for something that had happened years before? One careless mistake on her part that had been compounded by accidents of nature and machinery. Anger tightened her gut. None of that needed to have happened. She had not asked for all that. She realized she was clenching her jaws so tightly they ached, and the noise of her back teeth grinding had been heard by Qui-Gon. He was looking down at her as he walked by her side. He rubbed his fingers on his jaw as if to tell her to relax her own. They were walking behind Prawni, so she could not see. He placed feather light fingers on her upper back with his other hand, the lightest of touches, the deepest depth of comfort and understanding. But his face was a reserved mask, and he was thoughtful and silent for the rest of their stroll.

Now as evening cooled the air, she leaned her elbows on the windowsill of her old bedroom. She'd gone to what refuge it offered immediately after dinner and had been here in the hours since. Now she was restless and missed Qui-Gon even more. He and Obi-Wan had disappeared after the meal. She watched twilight begin to settle over the trees in the gentle valley the homestead was tucked in.

Why was she sitting indoors like a pouty child when she could be outside enjoying something other than the permex, stonecrete and an artificial skyline she was usually surrounded by? If she wanted to visit Qui-Gon, she ought to just go to the guesthouse and see him.

Her window was about eight meters from the ground. It would be blessedly simple to climb down the vine that covered this side of the house. She smiled as she remembered all the times she had chosen to exit the house this way as a child. And it would somehow be fitting, after a day like this. She really felt as though she had been returned to her childhood in some ways.

She thrust her head through the light force-field screen that kept out insects, rain or small debris. She inspected the vine's twining branches near the window. They looked thick and strong enough to support her. She had done this often enough as a teen, and she couldn't possibly weigh that much more now.

The only obstacle was someone seeing her. Velk would never let her hear the end of it if he saw her or heard of it from one of the kids. Oh, who cared? It would be fun.

Her dress had been changed for a pair of trousers, boots and a blouse hours earlier. She had wanted to try on the belt she had found in town that day. The ornately carved fruitwood buckle on it had caught her fancy. She swung a leg over the sill and reached for the first solid handhold. The vine was old and gnarled, and the limbs hugging the stone walls felt good in her hands. Feeling carefully with her toes for horizontal limbs and reaching under the large leaves for secure grip, she left the window and began to climb down.

"So this is how it all started."

A soft voice directly beneath her made her gasp and freeze where she was on the wall. Valia looked down over her shoulder and there stood a smiling Qui-Gon, hands on his hips, looking up at her.

"Qui-Gon! I didn't see you." She grinned down at him. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. You looked so deep in thought over something, I didn't want to call out. Then I watched you choose this particular exit. Any reason why you wished to avoid walking through the house and taking one of the doors, like the rest of the household?"

The man saw things far too well. The thought had crossed her mind that this would also be the perfect way to do just that. No meeting any family members on the way out.

"Not really. Just...mostly seeing if I'm still limber enough to do this."

"Well, come down from there, and be careful."

She heard the slight anxious note in his voice and smiled. "I've been climbing this thing since I was seven years old. It's done nothing but get bigger and stronger since then," she reassured him. She let go one hand and foot and twisted casually to see him better. She knew how he felt about her climbing anything higher than the level of her own head. Still there was that irrepressible urge to have a little fun with him. She stretched her arm and leg so she hung even farther away from the wall.

"It's also aged since then," Qui-Gon commented.

"A mere few years in the course of its long lifespan," said Valia. "This good old vine has been around at least four times as long as you," she teased. "It's positively ancient."

Qui-Gon said nothing to this, and continued to watch her steadily. He wished she'd get both hands and feet back against the wall. Better yet, both her feet on the ground. He took a step closer to the house. She was still a good six meters above the lawn yet.

"One thing you will find out some day, my young and limber love, is that age brings about certain changes. Some of the physical ones are not so welcome, but the accumulation of wisdom, which plants aren't capable of, hopefully makes up for them."

"Someone once said, 'you're only young once, but you can be immature forever.' Is that what you're getting at?"

Qui-Gon folded his arms. "More or less," he said.

"All right, so this wasn't the wisest idea that ever popped into my head. Good grief."

"A bit less talking and more climbing, please."

"All right, all right..." Valia turned back to the wall and went about searching for more handholds to get down as quickly as she could.

A tremor of warning went through Qui-Gon. "Lia, don't--I don't like the look of that branch you just--stop, stay where you are."

"First climb, then don't climb. What am I--" She never finished her question as she took another step down. The branch she'd gripped in her left hand gave way with a shower of dead wood, crumbling mortar and aerial roots. Her other arm pinwheeled wildly as she tried to grab another handhold and only got a handful of leaves for her trouble. They ripped away, and she stared at the green crumpled handful for a split second of certain doom. She completely lost her balance. Her feet slipped off the branches and she came down in a shower of leaves, twigs and debris. Anchors pulled off the wall like a zipper as she caught on and brought down an entire section of the vine along with her. She twisted in mid-air, wildly trying to figure out which part of her to put toward the ground. She grimly braced herself for the hard spank of the ground against her and the white flash of pain along with it. But it never came. She found herself in a reeling Qui-Gon's arms as he stumbled to keep his balance. He had seemingly plucked her out of the air like a feather. The vine crashed on top of and around them. He instinctively hunched over her and clutched her to him.

The last leaf must have drifted to the ground by the time Valia finally opened her eyes. Qui-Gon stepped out from under the vine, leaves dragging at his hair and clothes. She took a look around as he turned. He stood cradling her in the middle of the twisted heap of vine torn from the wall. The section he had come out from beneath formed a stiff arch as it curled back from the wall. Farther away, it collapsed flat on the lawn. Valia was too shocked to say a word. Then wild relief, embarrassment and hysterical laughter fought a battle inside her. The look on Qui-Gon's face quelled the laughter immediately. Unable to meet that stern gaze, she looked around at the mess.

"Is Tak ever going to be pissed when he sees this," she observed.

Valia got the sense that Qui-Gon was counting silently. He said nothing for a good many seconds.

"You were just nearly badly hurt, or even killed, and that's the first thing you think of?"

Uh, oh. That was definitely his angry voice. Rapid, soft, and tight. Controlled. This was quite possibly the most angry she had ever seen him. His brows were gathered together like bulging storm clouds. And she was getting a good look at them from the very close vantage point of his arms.

"He would," she said with a small shrug.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, raised his head and drew in a long breath through his nostrils. He had the look on his face he had sometimes when he heard something that had him too aggravated or disbelieving for words. Finally he slowly exhaled. He stepped carefully over the fallen vine branches. He carried Valia down the sloping lawn away from the house and toward the edge of the freela trees.

Not sure what else to do, she picked loose leaves out of her lap, off his shoulders and out of his hair. "You can put me down now," she said tentatively.

"No," Qui-Gon said, marching resolutely into the trees.

Have it your way, thought Valia. She rested silently in his arms, and since the thunderous look on his face had softened somewhat, she put her arms around his shoulders and linked her hands behind his neck. She did not ask him where they were going, or tell him to watch out for the roots poking through the ground, or the overhanging branches, because she knew he could see them in the deeper darkness between the rows of trees. They were many rows away from the house when he finally slowed his pace. He stopped and set her on her feet.

"Sit," he told her.

Valia settled herself on the grass without a word. Qui-Gon knelt down beside her and began brushing the rest of the vine debris off her. His hands lightly passed over her, checking and probing gently. "Are you in pain anywhere?" He raised one of her arms, inspecting a smudge on her forearm and a scratch.

"Nothing major."

"Where does it hurt?"

"Well, give me a minute to make a list. A little here and there, all over."

"Are you bleeding?" He raised her other arm and checked her side where there was an alarming, large dark rent that turned out to be only a rip in her blouse.

"No, no, I don't think so. Give me another minute to collect my wits." She was still feeling a queasy wash of adrenaline. She pulled away from him. "Qui-Gon, please. Stop fussing."

He stopped and sat back as if she had pushed him. Valia sat quietly for a moment, looking down at her lap. "I think I really did hurt something," she said. She held up her hand. "It looks as though I...I... tore a fingernail." She examined her hand in the dimming light. She fluttered her eyelids and rolled her eyes all the way back. She flopped backwards on the springy turf in a remarkable pantomime of a woman with a severe case of the vapors.

Half a minute went by. Valia opened her eyes. Qui-Gon was silhouetted against the cobalt evening sky in the gap between the trees. On his knees, but still formidable, statue-like. He was regarding her with an unfathomable look. Then the statue came to life. He turned his head and looked away. He blinked twice quickly.

For her to have such a careless attitude toward her own life and limb, and then to joke about it, he thought. She could find humor in anything, it seemed. He knew she had been afraid, and still was. Covering it up with light-hearted play was her way. Why did he not feel the least bit light-hearted at the moment? Beyond his own natural concern that no hurt ever come to her was something else. A feeling far greater. Something Force-driven that made it vital that she live and be whole. He fought down the turmoil of fear and frustration and grief that threatened to surface. Chances were good she would not have been killed, she really had not fallen that far. Perhaps he had exaggerated. But if she had fallen on her neck at the right angle, if... What if he had not been there? No. He would not think of it. He could not think of it. He only knew that if either of them should die it ought to be him. He would die for her. If it were necessary, if it ever came down to it, he would, he loved her so. He would lay his life down for her immediately, he would--

A gentle finger rested in his beard on the side of his chin and drew his face around. She had gotten up and was standing in front of him. "Hey," Valia said softly. She looked deeply into his eyes. "A joke, Qui-Gon. Funny. Ha, ha."

Qui-Gon sighed. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Forgive me if I fail to see the humor in this one."

Was he really that upset about this? "Oh, I'm sorry," she said softly. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she murmured into his hair over and over. He slid his arms around her and squeezed her in a mighty hug. Valia clung to him, thinking of what could have happened. They rocked each other slowly, both taking and giving comfort as the evening's dark blue deepened to nearly black. All the wisdom that seemed to fly out of his head at moments like these returned to Qui-Gon. There was no 'what if'. Only now. She was unhurt, holding him. The pressure of her living arms around him was warm and real.

There is no passion, only serenity.

The one who provoked such passion in him was the very one who was helping to restore his serenity.

"I'm sorry for the whole day," she said at last. "I'd like to erase it and start all over again."

"Why not simply be glad you still have tomorrow to make another start with?"

Valia pressed her cheek tightly against the smoothed-back hair on his head. "And I'll take the doors to go in and out of the house from now on."

"It would do my heart a world of good if you would," said Qui-Gon a little wearily.

"You know, you're really cute when you're worried."

"And you're really cute when you're giving me sauce about it," he said dryly.

"You can fuss over me now, if you'd like," she invited. He hesitated, feeling as if he had totally overreacted.

Valia sat back down on the grass in front of him, getting comfortable. "Oh, come on. Do your best fussing, Master Jinn."

A smile at last. "For that, I should really take you back to the house. I need at least a little light to see if there's anything that needs tending." He was cupping her face, trying to look at the small scratch he'd seen across her cheek. He knew it would probably be gone by tomorrow, but it made a fine excuse to keep touching her.

"You hauled me all the way out here," she pointed out. "At least we can sit together and enjoy the evening for a while." She leaned back on her arms. "I'm fine. There's nothing to see."

Qui-Gon's eyelids lowered slightly and he flicked his gaze down the length of her and back up again.

Oh, yes there is

Valia saw that look and laughed. "And you're really cute when you're being a totally normal male."

Qui-Gon said nothing but leaned forward and carefully took one of her wrists and drew her to him. He took the other one and gently rubbed his hands up and down both her arms. "I think a short anatomy lesson is in order," he said.

Valia grinned. "Teach me, Master."

"First," said Qui-Gon, shifting closer to her, "The arms. Never to be confused with wings, because of their poor aerodynamic properties." Valia laughed. He moved higher, pausing around the elbows, feeling for swelling. "The joints are very exposed and prone to injury. Strong, but still breakable." He moved higher. "The arms are excellent for giving hugs, however."

"Yes, Master." Valia threw her arms around him to demonstrate.

"Ahh, but I'm not finished yet," said Qui-Gon. Valia giggled and squirmed when he gave her gentle pokes in her underarms where she was terribly ticklish. She withdrew her arms and he moved back.

"The legs," he said, continuing his 'lesson'. Valia squirmed and laughed again when he reached his fingers up inside the legs of her trousers and pulled out some stray leaves and twigs, tickling her skin. "The legs are also very breakable. Please notice the absence of repulsors or springs in case of a sudden contact with the ground."

"Point well taken," Valia said as he moved his hands up her calves, cupping the swell of her muscles through the fabric. She made a high-pitched noise in her throat, trying to keep from bursting into laughter as he reached her knees, and the backs of them, other terribly ticklish areas. She grinned and suffered him to check over her knees with his hands and fingers. Then his caressing hands moved upwards and gave the same sensuous, thorough checking over to her thighs. So far he was quite satisfied to have found no rips in the cloth or any sign of injury. There was nothing but good healthy woman under his hands. Quite a satisfying thing in itself. What was he supposed to be checking for? She had her head cocked partially sideways, her chin lowered with that look that did the strangest things to his thinking and his heart rate. He noticed a small twig stuck in her hair, and he plucked it free of the braids across the top of her head. Those unruly strands, which always escaped, no matter how neatly she bound her hair, softly gleamed in the dim light, framing her face. He drew his fingers across the woven silk of her hair, down behind her ear and rested them on the side of her neck, capturing some of those strands against her skin. He moved forward until he was nose to nose with her. Her eyes were an utterly mesmerizing mix of dark and bright.

"Lastly," he said softly. "Most fragile of all. The neck." He slid past her face and downward to kiss the side of it. His beard tickled her throat and she could not contain the laughter any more. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he pulled her into his lap.

"I missed you today," she said over his shoulder.

"And I you," he said. They embraced long and hard. How good it was to simply touch him the way she wanted without reservation, or watching to see who was around. She enjoyed the big warm armful he made, his hair cool on his back and warm against his head. He slid a palm across her ribcage and almost experimentally passed it over her breast. She drew in a quick breath as he flicked a thumb across the nipple, teasing an instant response from her flesh.

"I don't recall injuring those," she said in a low voice, even as she arched against his hand to fill it with the swell of her breast.

"Nevertheless, I think they deserve an inspection."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" She smiled and lay back flat on the grass. Qui-Gon settled partially over her on his elbows and very slowly undid the top button of her blouse.

"What if one of the patrol droids sees us?" Valia asked, seeing that look in his eyes again. "I know Velk checks over the recordings every morning. Qui-Gon, I will absolutely die of embarrassment." She regretted her choice of wording as soon as she spoke.

With great care and deliberation, Qui-Gon unfastened the next button of her blouse with one hand.

"Not to worry. Obi-Wan and I memorized their day and night routes today." His knuckles brushed the soft skin in the valley between her breasts as he contemplated the third button. "They only patrol the perimeter of the farm during the night hours." The button gave way under his hand. He was amazed at how absurdly pleased he was to confirm with his eyes that she was wearing nothing beneath the shirt. He lightly moved the very tips of his fingers over her skin, testing and loving its smoothness. "At least you would die happy, wouldn't you?"

Valia smiled and looked up at the tree branches above her. If he was able to speak so lightly of something that had him so upset moments ago, then his oppressive mood had completely left him. He never stayed that way for long.

"Yes," she murmured. She looked up past his ear at the interlacing pattern of leaves above them. Each was gilded on the edges by the thin light of a half-moon, one of Nyme's three. She watched the canopy shift in the slight breeze. The dappled moonlight moved with it, winking in and out of her eye. Valia was seized with a sudden desire to memorize every single detail of this moment, commit it to lasting memory. Perhaps something about the joking reference to death resonated something deep inside her that passed so swiftly she had no time to think about it. She concentrated on the green scent of the grass beneath them, and ripe fruit and other the many-layered vegetal scents she had never really paid attention to before. The feel of the ground beneath her, and the warm body of her lover half covering hers, one of his large, expert hands molding itself softly over her breast. She brought her hands up and held Qui-Gon's face between them. She caressed his jaws and neck. His eyes were nearly black in the darkness. She knew nothing to say, only wanting to drink in the sight and feel of him. She traced his lower lip with a thumb, and the little peak his beard made beneath it. Then he lowered his head to hers and she was swept away with him. They removed only as much clothing as they needed to. The warmth of his skin against hers felt like fire in the cooling air. Their joined bodies found a perfect, comfortable hollow in the grass between the roots of a freela tree. They celebrated life and love. When Valia reached the point in her pleasure where she would have closed her eyes, Qui-Gon softly implored her to leave them open. He held her with his eyes and with his hands. Blades of grass tangled between their twined fingers, her hands locked with his against the ground. As she began the long, shuddering slide toward rapture, the sensation of being connected to all life, to something greater than herself or Qui-Gon grew. She wondered if she would simply dissolve into the green, scented night. And there was no fear of it this time, only the wonder that they had never shared this quite this way before, that to make love outside was the most natural thing for them to do. At last he brought her home, and she trembled with the intensity of it.

Afterwards, long after he had joined her and the only thing they did was breathe, she lay on her back, her head tucked against his neck. Her eyes went to a single star in an opening between the leaves. She stared at it, and at long last knew the words for her heart's desire.