Disclaimer: I don't own any Star Wars characters, but thanks to George Lucas for coming up with them :). However, I do own Leena and Exil-Reytal.

Thanks to crematoriacon for reviewing. I have written lots of stories, and this is the first I've ever published on the web. Thanks for pointing out that minor detail! If everything worked out, it should be fixed. Who knew:)

Chapter 4

I woke up just in time to get dressed for lunch with Obi-Wan, Padme, and Anakin. I was horrified at the numerous scars I saw on my back when I was changing. I would never be able to where the beautiful backless gowns that Padme does. A sad thought, considering that I really liked those the most.

Instead, I pulled on a dark green v-neck gown, and a pair of high heeled green shoes. I left my hair down and curled it.

I walked out onto the balcony, silently. If Obi-Wan or Anakin were meditating one floor up, I didn't want to disturb them. I listened to see if there was someone up there.

"It doesn't matter if she knows." I heard a voice say, I presumed it was Obi-Wan. "All that matters is that I love you."

"Stop it, Obi-Wan." I heard Padme say. "You know that she's sensitive."

"Yes, but she doesn't care. You see the way Anakin looks at her."

"She loves you!" I gasped, as I heard Padme betray my secret. What good would it accomplish?

"She what?"

"She loves you, Obi-Wan." Padme said urgently. "Think about it! You have been so kind to her, you have been listening. You know things about her that Anakin and I will never know."

"It's because she's my friend."

"You can't tell?" Padme asked.

"I love you, that's all that matters."

"No, Obi-Wan, she matters!"

I walked back into my room, not wanting to hear a single word more. I tried to be as silent as possible.

I sat on my bed and cried for awhile, waiting for the time when Padme would return from her mission.

Sure enough, I heard Padme coming back. I looked through the small window. Obi-Wan wasn't with her.

"Leena, hurry, it's almost time to go."

"I'm not going." I said, undressing in the fresher for a shower.

"Why not?"

"I'm not feeling well."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I waited for her to bug me into coming, but she never did.

I picked up a razor for shaving my legs, and sat under the hot water. It slipped from my hand and I tried to catch it, but it cut my finger. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt. The blood tricked down the drain. I cut my arm, right below the elbow with the razor to see if it would hurt. No pain. But I felt a release. There was less stress. Less pain. So I did it again.

I got out of the shower and pulled on long sleeves. I curled up in my bed and slept.