Chapter 10
"Velk, this shtuff is evil," Valia managed to say some hours later.
"Well, sister mine, anything is evil after you drink about a bottle an' a half of it," he slurred, a happy leer on his face.
Valia held an empty wine bottle up to her face and squinted at it, trying to see the liquid level inside to see how much she had really consumed. She kept at it until she gave up and laughed at herself and let the bottle fall to the grass.
"But that's exactly what I meeean," she said, swinging her other arm in a wide, drunken gesture for emphasis. "You don't even know how much you've had because it goes down so nice.'"
"You really like it?" Velk asked.
"I love it. In fact, if you can make shome more of this shtuff, I'll see about selling it, or maybe serving it that reshtaurant I'm thinking about going partners with." The name of the restaurant and who the owner was completely escaped her at the moment. She and Velk had been sampling his homemade fruit wine for several hours now, outside near the main house's kitchen garden. Several empty bottles later, and Valia felt like singing every song she knew and quoting every philosopher she could never remember. Her brother's imitations of the mayor had gotten her laughing so hard her stomach ached. And Velk had made one toast after another, to the Republic, to the harvest, to everything he could think of. She and Velk had talked almost continuously the whole time, catching up on each other's lives, sharing a few future plans and dreams, and reminiscing like old friends. And they had completely lost track of how much they had drank. She lolled her head back in her chair and took in the wheeling starry sky above her. It was spinning in a lazy circle. Somewhere in the sparkling sky, if she could only focus on it long enough, just over that peak of roof, was Coruscant's sun.
"Too bad I can' remember exactly how I made this batch."
"Ye gods, you mean you don' write this shtuff down?"
"Aaaww, it'll come back to me," Velk said, sliding down comfortably in his folding chair. "I'll be able to remember it just fine later."
"You're drunk, fool. You can't remember anything when you're drunk."
"Oh, piss, I can remember whatever I want," he declared. A slow smirk played over his face. "I'm remembering something right now." His smile became secretive.
"What?"
"Ohhhh, nothing."
Valia reached over to swat his arm, and nearly tumbled out of her chair doing so. She laughed, and he laughed with her. "Come on, you've got me all curioush now."
"Mmmm, well, I'm remembering seeing a certain sister of mine gettin' kisshed this morning."
Valia leaned her head back over the back of her chair and laughed throatily. She reached back with her hands and slowly ran them through her hair, loosening the tousled remains of her chignon and combing it out with her fingers. When she finished laughing, she sat upright again with a grin.
"Oh, yeah. Qui-Gon told me you were in the trees watching, and he asked me if I still wanted him to kiss me, if it bothered me that you saw. And I shaid no. So he did."
"He saw...he knew...oh, well yeah, I should have known, what with him being..." Vaguely embarrassed now, he scratched the side of his head, feeling through his hair the knot he'd gotten from sharply rapping it on a tree branch. It didn't hurt any more. Nothing hurt right now. Absolutely nothing. He'd gotten that bump from turning suddenly to slip away from what he had happened to see in the garden behind the guesthouse that morning. He hadn't been spying, really, just taking a shortcut through the trees to get something. He'd ducked behind a tree to hide when he had seen the two of them standing amid the flowers in the garden. That had been no friendly peck he'd seen. That was the kiss of a man in love. And he had never seen a look on his sister's face, framed by Qui-Gon's hands, quite like that before. That was the face of a woman in love.
"So, when did you...how long ago...?"
"A couple of years."
Velk couldn't think of anything teasing to say at the moment. His brain was slowly stumbling along at its own pace. And it seemed too nice a thing to tease her about. It certainly explained some things.
"And don't say it," she said, holding up an unsteady, admonishing finger.
"What, what? Say what?"
"Say that it must be a new record for me."
Truth be told, Velk had never known her to be serious about anyone for longer than one year, and usually far less time than that. "There was that shock-ball player a few years ago..."
"Oh, puh-leeeaze. Now I wonder who'd been shocked more stupid at the time, him or me."
Velk snorted. They didn't say anything for a minute or two, listening to the night sounds.
"I want to marry him."
"Whoa," said Velk in surprise, the neck of his wine bottle slipping out of his fingers. It dropped to the ground and rolled down the gentle slope, sloshing wine on the grass. Velk reached for it and tumbled out of his chair and onto his face. Quite some time later, when they both had finished laughing about that, and Velk had climbed back into his chair, he remembered what they had been talking about.
"So has he asked you yet?"
"No. I was thinking of asking him."
"Oh. But..." Velk seemed entirely befuddled by this. "Well. I mean, it'sh the man who does the asking."
"You're forgetting shomething, Velk. I no longer live here. I'm not bound by the old-fashioned traditions here."
Her brother stared thoughtfully out into the night, eyes glazed. "Obi-Wan said...he said Jedi don't usually have, uhhh, relationships...or uhh, relations."
"Well, you two have had some interesting conversations, haven't you?" Valia laughed. "No, it's normally not their way. A lot of them don't have sex at all. Life-long...what'sh the word I'm trying to think of? Oh, celibates."
Velk shook his head, unable to contemplate a life without...that.
"Are you sure about this? It's just that he strikes me as someone who prefers to be on top. In a manner of speaking, I mean."
"Actually, a lot of times, he really likes it when I--"
"No!" Velk laughed and held up his hands as if to block his ears in a panicky gesture. "I don't want to hear it." Valia laughed at how easy it was to embarrass her brother. She'd only been teasing. "I learned some of the dirtiest jokes I know from your very lips, mishter, and overheard you bragging enough times about your past exploits."
"But...that's...this is...but you're my sister!"
Valia rolled her eyes and laughed at his double standard. "Well then, I suppose this calls for another toast," Velk said.
"No more, no more toasts. Or I'm going to be sick."
"Sick? Naaahh," Velk said, rising unsteadily to his feet. "You drank me under the table a few times." She looked at him, silhouetted against the night sky. He took a healthy swig straight out of the bottle. "You know shomething else? I always did look up to you when we were growing up."
"You did?"
"Yep. The way you always went for what you wanted, consequences be damned."
"Well, my brother, I've been damned for that a time or two."
"Live and learn," he said philosophically. "You know, I think Pop is sorry about all that now."
"What has he said?"
"Nothing really, but I get the feeling he is."
"Well it doesn't matter now anyway. We're both happy with our lives, hey?" She struggled to lean toward him and clink her wine bottle against his in a toast.
"You woulda made a damn good froo' farmer," he said.
"Ha!" Valia laughed. "Thanks, but I think I'll leave that to you."
"Damn, but I'm going to hate going back to it in the morning."
"It's been so long since I've seen you like this," she said, laughing at his lopsided smile. "Prawni's going to kick your ass."
"Yep," Velk agreed cheerfully.
"And then she'll blame me," she sighed. Valia sobered slightly at that thought. She was looking at one butt-ugly hangover herself in the morning if she didn't stop drinking right now. It was probably already too late. Hangovers past the age of thirty were beyond piteous. "I'm going to see if I can stand up," she said.
"What do you want to do that for?"
"Well, if I can stand, that means I can probably walk. And if I can walk, then I can make it to the house. And if I can make it to the house," she said rising to her feet and taking a few steps, "Then I can find Qui-Gon."
"But Lia, you're not thinking about asking now, are you?"
"Why not? Now or never. No time like the present." She wobbled and then steadied herself. She was still in that blissful state of intoxication where life was beautiful, and anything and everything was possible. Velk got to his feet too, and stumbled sideways. He held out his hands and Valia grabbed them. Velk nearly brought her down with him. They steadied each other, laughing uproariously.
"What time is it?" Valia asked. Velk tried to squint at his chrono in the dark and gave up.
"Well, looks like the crack of dawn is still a ways off yet. It's late. Who cares?"
"I just mean if he's already gone out to the stash to watch it, I'll have to wait until who knows when, and then I might lose my nerve."
Velk shook his head. "You'd better sober up first."
"Who got me this way in the first place?"
"Not my fault you've turned into such a lightweight..."
They made their way toward the kitchen garden. Velk stumbled over a jutting stone in the paved path between the herb beds. He started to go down on the hard path and Valia struggled to pull him upright. He swung around crazily and dropped heavily into the methuvila patch. The spicy tang of the crushed leaves and stems stung Valia's nose. She laughed at the sight of her brother sprawled at her feet in the greenery. She leaned down and grabbed his arm, trying to haul him to his feet, but he'd closed his eyes and was loose, uncooperative dead weight. She gave up and sat down cross-legged on the path. Should she leave him here? What if he got sick? She crawled into the pungent bed and shoved his back until he was on his side. He had a smile on his face and looked so peaceful. He mumbled something that sounded like 'leave me here'. Well, why not let him sleep the rest of the night out here? Should she get him a blanket? She sat cross-legged in the middle of her parents' kitchen garden in the starlight listening to the night, the leaves rustling and the insect noises. Why not lie down right next to him? Her head didn't seem to be spinning quite so much any more. Velk mumbled something that may have been 'congratulations'. Of course, she thought. Qui-Gon. He would be strong enough to lift Velk out of the garden and take him into the house. All she needed was more destroyed herbage and another household controversy to her name, she thought dryly. She crawled out of the herbs and climbed to her feet. There, that wasn't so bad at all. Nearly back to normal. She grasped the kitchen door latch and finally managed to open the door. When she entered the kitchen, she realized Qui-Gon was down in the guesthouse. She laughed at herself as softly as she could. Then she thought, why not change out of these wine and herb-scented clothes while she was here in the house? Into something more comfortable and a lot prettier? She slipped to her room with one more glance out the window at her brother.
"Let's put him down here," Valia whispered, leading Qui-Gon through the kitchen and into the large dining room next to it. There was a long, thickly padded bench against a wall under a tapestry. Someone would find him here in the morning. There was no sense in rousing the whole household carrying him to his own bed. Qui-Gon eased his grip on Velk's arms and slid him down and off his back. He turned and laid the limp burden down on the bench. He lifted his feet up on it, and went about removing his boots for him. Velk groaned and restlessly moved his arms. One of his hands brushed through Qui-Gon's hair. "Baby," he mumbled, a sloppy grin on his face. He pawed blindly. Valia bent forward, silently laughing through her hands. Qui-Gon grasped his wrists and lowered the searching hands away from the hoped-for body parts her brother would never find there. "He thinks you're Prawni," she whispered, choking.
"Hm," Qui-Gon smiled with a quiet half laugh. "If he's expecting a good night kiss, he's going to be disappointed."
Valia stifled another laugh. "I'll go get him a blanket." She fumbled her way down a hall, feeling the wall with her hands to steady herself in the dark. Maybe she wasn't as sober as she thought. She groped in a closet for a blanket, hoping she was being quiet. When she got back to the dining room, Velk was resting quietly. Qui-Gon had turned him on his side. He placed a hand on his forehead, and made a quick check of his breathing and pulse.
"He'll be fine," he reassured Valia. "Although I foresee quite a scolding for him in the morning." He stood up, and looked at Valia. "Now, to get you taken care of."
"I thought you'd never ask," she said, winding her arm through his. Qui-Gon looked closely at her in the darkness of the dining room, assessing her condition. Her eyes were bright with humor and wine as she watched her brother, no doubt with the promise of some future sibling torment. She was inebriated as well, but not quite to the point Velk was. He permitted himself a second to take in what she was wearing. The lovely light silk robe swirled around her ankles, and was simply styled . He'd brushed against its softness several times while they had gotten Velk settled together. It was the color of candlelight on her hair. She was a slender, pale glimmer as she moved around in the dimness. The edges were decorated with simple cutwork lace. The gown beneath it was made of the same material, and the loosely belted robe had gaped open a couple of times to reveal a temptingly low bodice. It she kept that discreetly closed, there would be no trouble keeping his mind off what was beneath it, and on his task. There were already enough glimpses of her bare skin through the openings in the cutwork.
"You know I can't stay," he told her as he steadied her through the kitchen.
"I know, I know," she said, leaning against him.
When they reached her room, he opened the door for her and guided her in. "Get some sleep," he told her, bending down to give her a light good night kiss. "Will you be all right? Do you need anything?"
"Yes, for you to stay only a few minutes. And I suppose I ought to have some water," she said.
"I must say no to your first request, but I can help you with the second," Qui-Gon said, finding her adjoining bathroom and a cup which he filled from the water taps for her.
"Please. A few minutes." She took the water from him and sipped, spilling a few drops to the floor. Qui-Gon sighed as he watched her. "I really need to take over for Obi-Wan, but if it helps you get settled, then all right."
"It's not like I'm asking you to tuck me in with a long bedtime story like I'm a little child or something," she said.
"Lia, you're in the same condition as your brother," he said patiently, closing her bedroom door. "The only difference is that you're still standing. How, I'm not sure," he raised his eyebrows at her. "You both need time and sleep to clear all that alcohol out of your systems."
"I'm fine," she said with a touch of defiance.
"You're drunk," he said flatly. "And the best thing for you now is to sleep this off." He pulled the covers back on her bed. He gestured to it, and pulled a nearby chair close to the edge of it and sat down. He waited for her to sit down on the edge of the bed. When she didn't lie down, he looked at her questioningly.
"You've never had too much to drink before, have you?" she asked.
"Among all the things I've done in my life, I can say that isn't one of them."
"If you lie down like this, everything starts spinning. And if that goes on long enough, you get sick to your stomach."
"Then by all means, stay sitting," he said, accepting her explanation.
"So...what do you think of the whole fam-damily?" she asked, smiling. "Did you enjoy yourself today?"
Qui-Gon relaxed his stern attitude and smiled back into her hopeful face. No one else besides Obi-Wan regularly asked him these kinds of questions. What he thought, how he felt, what his impressions were. He gently took one of her hands and caressed it. Her palm was clammy. "Your family is made up of many interesting characters," he said. "In general, they are all warm and hospitable and honest. Much like yourself." He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. "As far as enjoying myself...while my personal goal today was not pleasure, or to be entertained... I can honestly tell you yes, I did," he said after some thought about it.
"That's good," she said. "Because I really want to make you part of the clan."
"What do you mean?" he asked, and suddenly knew what was coming just before she said it. It was still too late.
"Let's get married. Let's just do it. Will you marry me?"
Qui-Gon sighed and closed his eyes. "Lia," he said softly. "Now I know you've had far too much to drink," he said lightly.
"This really isn't the alcohol talking," she insisted.
Qui-Gon rose to his feet and began a hesitant pacing. He said nothing for a minute, as though trying to compose his thoughts. "I think...I believe in the morning, in the not-so-funny light of day, maybe...you'll reconsider what you're saying now," he said slowly.
"I'm not being funny," she said, her face registering confusion. She stared at him. This was the first time she could ever recall seeing him completely flummoxed. "You think this is all a little joke? I thought you would...I mean, most people take this seriously. You seem to act like I've insulted you. But I suppose no one has ever asked you this before."
"This isn't the first time." He saw the surprise on her face, and sensed that had been an unwise thing to mention, however incidental, unimportant and forgotten it was. "It was only in jest," he assured her truthfully.
"Well, I am not jesting," she said, standing. He took a good long look at her, and saw indeed that she was not. She looked at him levelly, at least as levelly as possible at the moment. She swayed slightly on her feet and put a hand on the bedside table to steady herself.
"I'm fine," she said in response to his probing look.
"Then if that's the case, I need to leave you to your rest now." He glanced toward the door.
"Why are you running away?" she said, moving toward him, reaching out to him. He wouldn't look her in the eyes or touch her. "Why is it that whenever you have something you want to discuss, we do it on the spot, no matter what, but when I have something, you walk out?" She was making generalizations, she knew, but she felt anger and sorrow rising up to clog her throat.
"Lia, I am not running. Think about it: first of all, this is not a good time to talk, as I have no time to give to a long discussion. And secondly, the topic is...it's far too serious and sensitive to be discussed right now."
"Why? Other people bring up the topic of marriage all the time. Is it some kind of horrible taboo subject for you?"
"No, Lia, it's simply that like a great many other things in life, it's different for Jedi."
"Why? Why can't it be like for anyone else?" she asked, her voice rising and breaking at the same time. "Other men have jobs, careers and lives, and manage to have wives at the same time. Why are you the only ones who can't have both? Others can have it both ways."
"From a certain point of view, I already am having it both ways," he said, his own voice rising a notch.
"Oh. I see." There was a thick pause. "Then certainly, it makes sense to leave things alone, seeing as how convenient you have it. " Qui-Gon somehow stood firmly against the unexpected, stinging slap of her words.
"I did not mean to imply...Valia, please believe me, it's not that way." He had meant that loving her meant he was moving back and forth across a borderline, defying personal code, and thousands of years of disciplined tradition. It was anything but convenient. How could she put herself down this way, implying that she was only being physically used by him?
"Does it have to do with the conflict with my father?" she probed suddenly.
"No, but now that you mention it, I would personally prefer to see that end. And deep down, I believe he would as well."
"You talked to him about it, didn't you?"
"Yes," he answered her with flat honesty. "While it is your choice not to speak to him, I am not bound by that." He sensed her temper flare at his words. There seemed to be nothing he could say right now that wasn't worsening this verbal fencing match. So he said nothing else on that touchy topic.
"Then maybe I'm not seeing something obvious. Is there someone else?" she threw out. She was feeling pugnacious now, fueled by the alcohol and the strain of the last two days around her family, her annoyance with discovering he had discussed her with Tak, and her frustration with his answers and reactions. Her eyes stung with the beginnings of angry tears. She held them in. She thought of how long he could be gone at times, and she thought of the stories of deep space freighter pilots she'd heard, and she'd heard enough of them in her time. Stories of two or more lovers, wives, and even entire families on different worlds, each ignorant of the other. It was never pretty when the truth finally came out.
Her words were like another slap. Why was she suddenly so bent on picking a fight? "No," he said with all the calmness he could muster. How could she ever think such a thing? She was the only one, the only woman he'd ever loved, ever given this much of himself to. By the strictest interpretation of the Jedi code, he was not even supposed to be with her, let alone more than one woman. It shocked him to remember that, it had been so long since he'd wrestled with the idea. But he knew voicing that would only dig himself deeper into this emotional mess. He took several deep breaths and as methodically as he could, reviewed all the basic mediation skills he knew, and ought to be using, instead of falling down so badly. Acknowledge she's upset, ask open-ended questions so she can vent, make no counter-accusations... He longed to reach out to touch her, but instincts told him that would have all the prudence of reaching out to grab a wounded animal right now, so he kept his distance. How could he explain to her how it was for him, when he was so unexpectedly confused about how he felt? It was hard enough to follow the turnings of her alcohol-dazed mind.
"Lia, sit down before you fall down," he said when he saw how she still wasn't quite sure on her feet. He said it with what he thought was a gentle tone, but evidently she did not take it that way. She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. "I see that you're upset. Take some deep breaths and calm--"
"That's another thing!" she shouted. "I will not be calm when I don't feel like being calm. Maybe that's it. I'm not like you. I'm not one of your kind." She knew it was not unheard of for two Jedi to fall in love with each other. "I will never be like you! I'm an outsider, I will never be one of you," she said, her voice cracking.
"Lia, nothing can change that. But that doesn't matter. I...I love you exactly the way you are. That has absolutely nothing to do with marrying you or not marrying you." The needless heartbreak in her words was a painful stab in his own heart.
"It's pretty clear it's 'not marrying'."
"Let's simply put aside the entire discussion for now. This is a very poor time to bring this up."
"Then when will there be a good time to bring it up?"
"Certainly not when the topic causes so much emotional distress, when alcohol is involved, and tempers are running high." He spoke with a hint of coldness he had not at all intended. How was it he was handling this so miserably? All the hostile planetary envoys he had dealt with, and situations poised on the edge of war, or enemies who done their best to kill him, and here he was now in a scenario he never imagined he'd find himself in. And he found himself wanting to get out of it, the first instant he could.
As he feared, she found an accusation in his words. "Of course, you mean only my temper. You don't have one, do you?" she snapped, fighting to keep from breaking into hot tears. She began to pace, her arms folded, her robe swishing. "I drink a little drink. I get a little upset. Hello there, I'm human! Do you constantly have to act like a droid?" He was looking away from her, his chin raised the way it was when they had their very worst disagreements, as if this was completely beneath him, and he were light-years distant from her. His soft answers were infuriating to her.
Qui-Gon's hands went to his hips. "After all this time, I do not have to explain to you how and why I battle to keep anger out of my life. I have been trained all my life to not give in to anger, to the Dark Side."
The almost quoting distressed her even more. "Dark Side, Light Side, Fat Side, Thin Side!" she shouted. "The Force has to enter into everything, doesn't it?"
"Yes," he said simply. "You speak nothing but the truth when you say that, Lia. It does enter everything, and every single choice I make. The Force completely and absolutely guides my life."
"Well, then I say it must be a cold, heartless bitch."
"Valia!"
"At least my gods would let me exercise my free will in life. Are you just some kind of a puppet, or some kind of tool?" she cried.
By the seven Sith hells, now they were having a debate about religion. Qui-Gon focused his eyes on a chink between the boards in the door, thinking he would not be surprised if the wood began going up in smoke. "If you absolutely insist on an answer to your request at this very moment, I would have to say that my puppet-master is instructing me to say 'No'."
The mix of shocked and aghast expressions that passed across her face at that made her falter. For just a second.
"Don't you ever want the freedom to do what you want, or to...to get roaring mad about anything!"
"Feeling and acting are not the same." He refused to be goaded by her but he was losing that resolve as well, and he knew he must sound distant and lofty to her. "Yes, I do get angry, and upset, but I will not act upon it." Even now.
"Fine. Then allow me to do it for both of us, damn it." she said tightly, grabbing the nearest object at hand, the urn on the table next to her. The large vase was a long ago gift from a great-aunt, patterned with an unappealing mottle of brown and blue. It was one of the ugliest things she had ever seen in her life, and at the moment it matched her mood perfectly.
"Valia, a little decorum, please," Qui-Gon cautioned, watching her. Her shouting may well have already been heard by the rest of the household, and now she was actually to the point of breaking things?
"Decorum!" she snarled. "I'll give you decorum!" She raised the vase to hurl it, wanting to break it into a hundred thousand pieces, she was so upset.
Qui-Gon's face set into a scowl. He took two swift steps toward her. Valia's left knee quivered when she saw the fearsome look on his face, a look that might have instantly sent a Temple novice to a penitent position on the floor. But she locked her knees and stood her ground defiantly. Unable to make eye contact with him, she focused on a crease in the right side of the bridge of his nose.
With exquisite slowness, Qui-Gon reached out and grasped the lip of the heavy vase and slipped it out of her hands.
"You. Will. Not. Throw that." He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. He set it back down on the small table, holding by the rim and tipping it back on its base with such delicacy it made no sound. The room was silent except for the sounds of their breathing, and of leaves outside her window moving softly in the breeze.
After what seemed like an eon, Qui-Gon spoke. "We will discuss this later, when you are...yourself." Valia felt him closing himself off even more tightly, hardening, and leaving the matter behind.
"Maybe this is myself, right now. I think this is more of myself than you want to handle."
"Valia, please. Enough. These histrionics are completely beneath you."
"His--his--" she gasped. She was so upset and close to full-blown sobs she could not even speak. She angrily pointed to the door. "Get out!" She managed to make her lungs and mouth work to wheeze out the words. Qui-Gon smiled tightly and made a mocking half bow to her. She watched him walk to the door. He hesitated as though he were about to say something else. "Get some sleep," he finally said without turning around. Without another word, he let himself out the door.