Author's Note:
Thank you, Falcona SkyWolf, for your review, but you're wrong on that one. So far, you have a total of two right and two wrong, if I recall correctly. (Exactly what governs who these can be I'm hoping to explain later in the story.) …You might want to keep the Whitesun thing in mind, though… )
Here's where things start getting more complex, so let me know if I get completely confusing.
Anyway, next chapter comes when I get a review.
Enjoy! :)
A prim stranger stared back at her.
Even years after her mother's death and her own inheritance of the throne, her surroundings' opulence disturbed her. She was ruler of Hapes, certainly—but also a warrior woman of Dathomir. Her grandmother was chagrined at Tenel Ka's insistence that she keep up her finely tuned muscles.
This nagging concern of softening she rarely permitted to surface, but led the Queen Mother to engage in rather… perilous exercises.
Her influential grandmother had been pressuring her to at least take a consort to secure her bloodline until she married. Ta'a Chume considered Tenel Ka a rebellious Queen Mother, denying Hapes what it always needed—an heiress.
Inwardly, she admitted her grandmother's concern was valid. Unfortunately, the strength Tenel Ka had prided herself in vanished when it came to… such things.
Well past the age previous matriarchs had taken their first consort, if not slave, she had declined to do either. The very thought of such liberality disgusted her.
She also found herself emotionally bound to a male she knew well; someone who would undoubtedly be shocked if he knew how she felt, but someone who complimented her perfectly.
If only he'd see it.
She finished her hair quickly. Ta'a Chume had requested an audience with her, and she had granted it—providing it was on her own turf and that Grandmother joined her at an absurdly early hour in the morning.
Though Queen Mother, Tenel Ka still had danger of assassination by her own relatives.
Relaxing with the Force, she ensured her appearance was flawless, then calmly strode into her den to await her grandmother.
"Tenel Ka."
"Grandmother." She nodded at the older woman and to a couch. "Sit."
Ta'a Chume's sour face flinched. "I showed more respect for my grandmother, at your age."
She judged her grandmother's anger. Normally, Ta'a Chume didn't mind Tenel Ka's bluntness. She must have done something else that had infuriated her grandmother.
The Queen Mother waved a male slave in. "Breakfast, Grandmother?"
Immediately, Ta'a Chume fell back into suave diplomacy. "Of course, my dear."
They ate in silence, Tenel Ka acutely aware of her grandmother's sharp gaze. The older woman put her half-eaten portion aside.
"I've selected a consort for you."
A fire lit in Tenel Ka's gray eyes. "No."
Ta'a Chume sighed as if humoring a child. "You're very beautiful, child; but without that prosthetic arm—"
"I… said… no." As she growled, the former Jedi slowly stood, as fluid as befitted a warrior of Dathomir. "Leave."
The older woman laughed as if shocked. "Surely a woman can have a meal with her granddaughter?"
Tenel Ka had had her fill of Hapan politics. With her one arm, she hauled the affronted Ta'a Chume from her suite.
Outside her door, her grandmother turned on her. "You'll regret this, soon—you won't be young forever. Jedi Solo has found a woman."
Her hand still moved as she had directed, shutting and locking her door in her grandmother's face.
Jacen? Engaged?!
Tenel Ka staggered more than any physical blow would've made her do. "No," she whispered hoarsely. "Not a fact."
Even as she denied it, she knew at least some portion of it was true. Ta'a Chume'd had no idea how much her information would affect her granddaughter.
Jacen.
Truth slammed her.
Her gray eyes pranced wildly around the room. If Jacen was engaged he would invite her to the wedding!
Wouldn't he?
Doubt ripped through her. They had been such close companions as Jedi. Could the years have made the Jedi Knight forget their friendship?
Composing herself, the Queen Mother closed her eyes. She hadn't seen her friend in years—not since…
Tenel Ka had accepted her royal heritage.
She should've stayed a Jedi, she thought bitterly. Ta'a Chume was right—who would want a one-armed Queen?
Not even her old friends, apparently.
Tenel Ka tried to think of one time since the war's end that her friends had tried to call her.
The realization hit her like a slap. She'd seen them a few times during the war after she'd quit being a Jedi, but…
They hadn't talked to her as a friend. They'd addressed her as royalty.
And so she was. Sovereign of sixty-six systems.
And hating every minute of it.
They must think her a traitor.
Tenel Ka got her lightsaber from its now-usual place under her arm. She examined the handle, using her one hand to rub the ornate designs she'd etched into the stained rancor tooth. It was a beautiful piece.
As it should be. On her first blade, haste had cost her an arm.
Aching with loss and abandonment, she changed from her royal garments into her blue lizardskin bodysuit, covering even less than her torso-covering armor. Had Tenel Ka had the choice of which life she'd have to choose instead of the Jedi, she would've preferred her mother's.
She hooked her lightsaber in its familiar place on her belt. The rancor-tooth handle felt right there, so much better than hidden under her arm.
A guilty pang hit her as she swiftly braided her hair in the one-handed manner Anakin had invented for her. She'd been there when he died.
Turning her guilt into gratitude, she even put in some of the decorative feathers; something she hadn't done in a long time.
Taut from intense emotion, Tenel Ka decided to go on her hardest calisthenics route—and that, twice.
A woman, in her forties, stood regally beside the large window. Her ornate black gown draped her form, trailing onto the floor behind her, her elaborate headdress sending strings of beads into her hair.
A respectful distance away her handmaidens sat in their chairs, arranged in a semicircle behind her throne. All the women wore hooded loose gowns, simply cut, a dull and unobtrusive dark gray with pale gray inner lining.
Someone flung open the doors to the Naboo Throne Room. The woman's lips pressed together into a thin line. She did not move, but her handmaidens stood and approached her.
"You called the Jedi!" Bruck Chun snarled, stalking her.
The resulting quirk to her lips immediately straightened as she turned to face the Dark Jedi. "I beg to differ."
"Oh?!"
She glanced at two of her handmaidens, making sure their hands fell near their waists. She mentally scolded herself. Those two knew what they were doing!
She moved gracefully to her throne, letting her handmaidens fall behind her—and putting a certain two between the Dark Jedi and herself. She slowly sat, entirely composed.
"I informed certain parties of Jedi Eerin and Jedi Veila's positions. I assumed you desired ransom." She didn't let herself flinch. That would betray her intentional duplicity. No, I do not have the Force. But I know how you think, Dark Lord.
"I—" Chun seemed to realize his lack of control, and drew himself back into a tightly wound bundle for action. Even she could see that, though she gratefully lacked the Force.
Chun's blue eyes became cold gray stones. "We will see." He left immediately, his black cape swirling in his wake.
No sooner did the doors shut than did the blonde of her two special handmaidens lower her hood and pull out a pipe, hazel gaze unperturbed. "Talk about déjà vu."
The other, a redhead, also lowered her hood, green eyes shrewd. "What about it?"
"The rest of you may leave us," she spoke up. These two handmaidens… were special. The other five immediately bowed and obeyed.
The blonde gave her Queen a glance and lit her pipe. She took a puff, then exhaled slowly. "Same thing Amidala said to Gunray right before contacting Senator Palpatine."
The Queen sighed, slouching on her throne. "Must it always come back to that?"
Another puff of the soothing aromatic smoke dissipated into the air. The Queen didn't think that hazel gaze ever lost its calm—Force knew it had seen enough not to!
"I'm afraid so."
With no more than a fibercord, her one arm and her legs, the Queen Mother climbed up, over, and down every single building she came to, trying vainly to overtax her muscles, not caring how seedy an area she was in.
Her senses tingled with warning.
Landing lightly in the alley, she reached for her lightsaber, muscles taut and prepared for an attack.
Instead, she saw an elderly woman crouched beside a trash bin. The woman inclined her head towards her. "Your Majesty."
With royal dignity, Tenel Ka nodded acknowledgment. The old woman's brown eyes were dark, her shimmering dark gray hair offering glimpses of her matching former hair color. Though obviously aged, her face and body gave little evidence to that fact, bearing few wrinkles and hardened with muscle.
The Queen Mother frowned. The woman felt… familiar. "Have we met?"
A gleam appeared in the old woman's eye. "We will."
At the flicker of warning Tenel Ka brought her lightsaber up to bear, but too late. The woman stirred—
Blackness took her.
Her heart pounded against her chest, her body burning in shame. She was a fool. Anakin was dead.
She was falling for a lie. She had to be.
Only hours earlier, even as her mind had rationalized, the words had escaped her lips. "I do."
It was Anakin. She knew it, felt it.
That was impossible.
A hallucination, perhaps?
She felt his lips against hers, as warm as she remembered, with a passion beyond anything he'd before shown towards her behind their kiss. This was no dream.
So she was a dupe, and some trickster could now…
Could have her? Willingly?
I'm crazy, she realized. I've gotta be.
Anakin smiled sadly, forehead against hers. Tahiri squelched her doubts, moving the undying echoes to a corner of her mind where he wouldn't feel them.
You see? she told herself. He has to be Anakin! He feels me! Our bond—it's whole! How could anyone fill that, but…
Author's Note:
"While Darkness Fell", specifically the last part will help with two women's identities in here—one my creation, the other one someone I've taken liberties with. Assuming you want a spoiler, that is. (I know, I'm mean. I make you work for spoilers. Sorry, but I like that kind myself, so that's what I give.)
Last part about Tahiri was because… well, she's not stupid. A little impetuous, perhaps… :) I mean, wouldn't you be skeptical if someone who'd been dead for years suddenly showed up in your face right after you had a nightmare about him?
Please review. Tips, thoughts, or critical analyses are fine. I don't care if you write your thinking process as you're trying to make sense of some of this. All I ask is for a clean mouth. Thank you. :)
Thank you, Falcona SkyWolf, for your review, but you're wrong on that one. So far, you have a total of two right and two wrong, if I recall correctly. (Exactly what governs who these can be I'm hoping to explain later in the story.) …You might want to keep the Whitesun thing in mind, though… )
Here's where things start getting more complex, so let me know if I get completely confusing.
Anyway, next chapter comes when I get a review.
Enjoy! :)
Chapter Eight
Tenel Ka Chume Ta' Djo, Queen Mother of the Hapes Cluster and former Jedi Knight, allowed herself a slight frown. Halting her one-handed braiding, she stared into her tall royal mirror.A prim stranger stared back at her.
Even years after her mother's death and her own inheritance of the throne, her surroundings' opulence disturbed her. She was ruler of Hapes, certainly—but also a warrior woman of Dathomir. Her grandmother was chagrined at Tenel Ka's insistence that she keep up her finely tuned muscles.
This nagging concern of softening she rarely permitted to surface, but led the Queen Mother to engage in rather… perilous exercises.
Her influential grandmother had been pressuring her to at least take a consort to secure her bloodline until she married. Ta'a Chume considered Tenel Ka a rebellious Queen Mother, denying Hapes what it always needed—an heiress.
Inwardly, she admitted her grandmother's concern was valid. Unfortunately, the strength Tenel Ka had prided herself in vanished when it came to… such things.
Well past the age previous matriarchs had taken their first consort, if not slave, she had declined to do either. The very thought of such liberality disgusted her.
She also found herself emotionally bound to a male she knew well; someone who would undoubtedly be shocked if he knew how she felt, but someone who complimented her perfectly.
If only he'd see it.
She finished her hair quickly. Ta'a Chume had requested an audience with her, and she had granted it—providing it was on her own turf and that Grandmother joined her at an absurdly early hour in the morning.
Though Queen Mother, Tenel Ka still had danger of assassination by her own relatives.
Relaxing with the Force, she ensured her appearance was flawless, then calmly strode into her den to await her grandmother.
"Tenel Ka."
"Grandmother." She nodded at the older woman and to a couch. "Sit."
Ta'a Chume's sour face flinched. "I showed more respect for my grandmother, at your age."
She judged her grandmother's anger. Normally, Ta'a Chume didn't mind Tenel Ka's bluntness. She must have done something else that had infuriated her grandmother.
The Queen Mother waved a male slave in. "Breakfast, Grandmother?"
Immediately, Ta'a Chume fell back into suave diplomacy. "Of course, my dear."
They ate in silence, Tenel Ka acutely aware of her grandmother's sharp gaze. The older woman put her half-eaten portion aside.
"I've selected a consort for you."
A fire lit in Tenel Ka's gray eyes. "No."
Ta'a Chume sighed as if humoring a child. "You're very beautiful, child; but without that prosthetic arm—"
"I… said… no." As she growled, the former Jedi slowly stood, as fluid as befitted a warrior of Dathomir. "Leave."
The older woman laughed as if shocked. "Surely a woman can have a meal with her granddaughter?"
Tenel Ka had had her fill of Hapan politics. With her one arm, she hauled the affronted Ta'a Chume from her suite.
Outside her door, her grandmother turned on her. "You'll regret this, soon—you won't be young forever. Jedi Solo has found a woman."
Her hand still moved as she had directed, shutting and locking her door in her grandmother's face.
Jacen? Engaged?!
Tenel Ka staggered more than any physical blow would've made her do. "No," she whispered hoarsely. "Not a fact."
Even as she denied it, she knew at least some portion of it was true. Ta'a Chume'd had no idea how much her information would affect her granddaughter.
Jacen.
Truth slammed her.
Her gray eyes pranced wildly around the room. If Jacen was engaged he would invite her to the wedding!
Wouldn't he?
Doubt ripped through her. They had been such close companions as Jedi. Could the years have made the Jedi Knight forget their friendship?
Composing herself, the Queen Mother closed her eyes. She hadn't seen her friend in years—not since…
Tenel Ka had accepted her royal heritage.
She should've stayed a Jedi, she thought bitterly. Ta'a Chume was right—who would want a one-armed Queen?
Not even her old friends, apparently.
Tenel Ka tried to think of one time since the war's end that her friends had tried to call her.
The realization hit her like a slap. She'd seen them a few times during the war after she'd quit being a Jedi, but…
They hadn't talked to her as a friend. They'd addressed her as royalty.
And so she was. Sovereign of sixty-six systems.
And hating every minute of it.
They must think her a traitor.
Tenel Ka got her lightsaber from its now-usual place under her arm. She examined the handle, using her one hand to rub the ornate designs she'd etched into the stained rancor tooth. It was a beautiful piece.
As it should be. On her first blade, haste had cost her an arm.
Aching with loss and abandonment, she changed from her royal garments into her blue lizardskin bodysuit, covering even less than her torso-covering armor. Had Tenel Ka had the choice of which life she'd have to choose instead of the Jedi, she would've preferred her mother's.
She hooked her lightsaber in its familiar place on her belt. The rancor-tooth handle felt right there, so much better than hidden under her arm.
A guilty pang hit her as she swiftly braided her hair in the one-handed manner Anakin had invented for her. She'd been there when he died.
Turning her guilt into gratitude, she even put in some of the decorative feathers; something she hadn't done in a long time.
Taut from intense emotion, Tenel Ka decided to go on her hardest calisthenics route—and that, twice.
A woman, in her forties, stood regally beside the large window. Her ornate black gown draped her form, trailing onto the floor behind her, her elaborate headdress sending strings of beads into her hair.
A respectful distance away her handmaidens sat in their chairs, arranged in a semicircle behind her throne. All the women wore hooded loose gowns, simply cut, a dull and unobtrusive dark gray with pale gray inner lining.
Someone flung open the doors to the Naboo Throne Room. The woman's lips pressed together into a thin line. She did not move, but her handmaidens stood and approached her.
"You called the Jedi!" Bruck Chun snarled, stalking her.
The resulting quirk to her lips immediately straightened as she turned to face the Dark Jedi. "I beg to differ."
"Oh?!"
She glanced at two of her handmaidens, making sure their hands fell near their waists. She mentally scolded herself. Those two knew what they were doing!
She moved gracefully to her throne, letting her handmaidens fall behind her—and putting a certain two between the Dark Jedi and herself. She slowly sat, entirely composed.
"I informed certain parties of Jedi Eerin and Jedi Veila's positions. I assumed you desired ransom." She didn't let herself flinch. That would betray her intentional duplicity. No, I do not have the Force. But I know how you think, Dark Lord.
"I—" Chun seemed to realize his lack of control, and drew himself back into a tightly wound bundle for action. Even she could see that, though she gratefully lacked the Force.
Chun's blue eyes became cold gray stones. "We will see." He left immediately, his black cape swirling in his wake.
No sooner did the doors shut than did the blonde of her two special handmaidens lower her hood and pull out a pipe, hazel gaze unperturbed. "Talk about déjà vu."
The other, a redhead, also lowered her hood, green eyes shrewd. "What about it?"
"The rest of you may leave us," she spoke up. These two handmaidens… were special. The other five immediately bowed and obeyed.
The blonde gave her Queen a glance and lit her pipe. She took a puff, then exhaled slowly. "Same thing Amidala said to Gunray right before contacting Senator Palpatine."
The Queen sighed, slouching on her throne. "Must it always come back to that?"
Another puff of the soothing aromatic smoke dissipated into the air. The Queen didn't think that hazel gaze ever lost its calm—Force knew it had seen enough not to!
"I'm afraid so."
With no more than a fibercord, her one arm and her legs, the Queen Mother climbed up, over, and down every single building she came to, trying vainly to overtax her muscles, not caring how seedy an area she was in.
Her senses tingled with warning.
Landing lightly in the alley, she reached for her lightsaber, muscles taut and prepared for an attack.
Instead, she saw an elderly woman crouched beside a trash bin. The woman inclined her head towards her. "Your Majesty."
With royal dignity, Tenel Ka nodded acknowledgment. The old woman's brown eyes were dark, her shimmering dark gray hair offering glimpses of her matching former hair color. Though obviously aged, her face and body gave little evidence to that fact, bearing few wrinkles and hardened with muscle.
The Queen Mother frowned. The woman felt… familiar. "Have we met?"
A gleam appeared in the old woman's eye. "We will."
At the flicker of warning Tenel Ka brought her lightsaber up to bear, but too late. The woman stirred—
Blackness took her.
Her heart pounded against her chest, her body burning in shame. She was a fool. Anakin was dead.
She was falling for a lie. She had to be.
Only hours earlier, even as her mind had rationalized, the words had escaped her lips. "I do."
It was Anakin. She knew it, felt it.
That was impossible.
A hallucination, perhaps?
She felt his lips against hers, as warm as she remembered, with a passion beyond anything he'd before shown towards her behind their kiss. This was no dream.
So she was a dupe, and some trickster could now…
Could have her? Willingly?
I'm crazy, she realized. I've gotta be.
Anakin smiled sadly, forehead against hers. Tahiri squelched her doubts, moving the undying echoes to a corner of her mind where he wouldn't feel them.
You see? she told herself. He has to be Anakin! He feels me! Our bond—it's whole! How could anyone fill that, but…
Author's Note:
"While Darkness Fell", specifically the last part will help with two women's identities in here—one my creation, the other one someone I've taken liberties with. Assuming you want a spoiler, that is. (I know, I'm mean. I make you work for spoilers. Sorry, but I like that kind myself, so that's what I give.)
Last part about Tahiri was because… well, she's not stupid. A little impetuous, perhaps… :) I mean, wouldn't you be skeptical if someone who'd been dead for years suddenly showed up in your face right after you had a nightmare about him?
Please review. Tips, thoughts, or critical analyses are fine. I don't care if you write your thinking process as you're trying to make sense of some of this. All I ask is for a clean mouth. Thank you. :)