Chapter Eleven

At least an hour had passed before Obi-Wan moved back toward the sleeping quarters. In his hands he carried a tray with steaming broth and dry, slightly stale bread. He rapped on the door and smiled gently as it opened.

"Would you care for something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." The young woman quickly replied, moving slightly away from the open door.

Obi-Wan eased inside the room despite her words, setting the tray upon a small table next to the cot. When he turned back toward the young woman, he could not help but notice that she had showered. The dark eye makeup and the glittering body paint were gone. She no longer wore the single piece leather dress, but instead had put on a dark green bodysuit. The arms and legs of it were rolled up as it was obviously a few sizes too big for her petite frame. Obi-Wan blushed slightly as she had noticed his regard.

"I hope it's okay that I put this on. I found it in one of the storage units in the 'fresher."

"That's quite all right." Obi-Wan replied trying to focus on something else in the room other than the natural beauty of the woman standing before him. "Are you sure you don't want something to eat?"

She finally smiled at him and moved toward the small table. "Maybe just a little."

Obi-Wan pulled a metal stool near to the cot where Padmé had sat down with the tray in her lap. He sat silently, enjoying watching her eat.

"Aren't you going to have any?" She mumbled between mouthfuls, slightly embarrassed to be eating in front of him.

"Oh, no thank you. I already ate with my Master."

Padmé nodded and continued eating in silence, occasionally glancing up at the young, handsome man seated next to her, who now seemed determined to look at everything in the room but her.

"Thank you." She finally said.

Noting his eyebrows shooting up questioningly, she hurried on with her explanation. "Thank you for allowing me to eat in here. I'm not very comfortable with your…uhm...'Master.'"

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan's mouth quirked upward. "I assure you that he is quite honorable."

"It's not that. It's just that he reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

A slight exasperated sigh escaped her as she sat aside the tray. "I don't remember exactly."

"Please listen to me. I would like to help you remember, if you want to. I know it will be uncomfortable sharing your memories with me, but there are some things that you need to know before we arrive on Naboo. Things that I need to tell you only after I'm sure that you are ready to hear them."

Padmé listened carefully as Obi-Wan spoke, looking down to her hands and noting that for the first time in several months, they weren't shaking.

"Do you trust me?"

She quickly glanced back up and met his green-gray gaze, smiling slightly. "Yes. I trust you."

"I would like to guide you through a meditative trance. Don't worry, " Obi-Wan quickly reassured her as he noticed her small body tense. "I'll be right there with you. Perhaps we can recover some of your memories and find out the person responsible for kidnapping you. Would you be willing to try?"

She silently stared at him for a long time and Obi-Wan was afraid that she would refuse, but after a while, she simply nodded her head.

They moved the thin mattress of the cot down to the floor and Padmé followed Obi-Wan into a meditative posture, facing one another, their knees touching. He placed the back of one of her hands against his upward facing palm, and she placed her other in the same position.

"Take deep breaths and try to clear your mind. You will feel my presence soon, but just relax. If you don't wish for me to continue, please let me know and we'll stop."

She nodded again and closed her eyes.

Obi-Wan cleared his thoughts and reached out for the Force. He felt its assuring wave sweep over him, drawing the young woman along in its tide. He heard her gasp softly, but noticed she did not withdraw or fight against its pull. He pushed forward into her mind until he began to see vague images and shadows. He felt her grief, her pain, and the humiliation of her past. Muted colors of grays and browns, the sickly yellow fumes of Raxus Prime, the bright red of someone's blood. He focused on the red hue, relieved it was not her blood, but someone else's. On his examination of that memory, he felt her tension escalate and he quickly moved on, further back. He heard the clanking of chains, felt the pressure and pain of wrist and ankle cuffs, the sting of a blow across his face. Even further back he pursued until he saw a graying beard, a dark hooded cloak, inhaled an intoxicating and nauseating smell, felt the presure of something over his face, and then everything went black.

When Obi-Wan opened his eyes, he saw tears streaming down her face and gripped the small hands that he held.

He allowed her the time she needed to compose herself enough to speak, rubbing the inside of her wrists lightly with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry if that hurt you." He spoke softly, still caressing her arms.

"My parents?"

"I'm afraid they're dead, Padmé."

"How?"

"The coroner said it was from heart and liver failure." He began, not wanting to keep anything from her, but also not wanting to cause her more pain. "They never recovered from their grief of losing you and neglected their health."

Obi-Wan noted the confused look on the young woman's face. It was the same look that he held upon hearing the coroner's report.

"You are Queen now. Steward Palpatine has been ruling during your abscence."

Padmé glanced down to the callus roughened hands holding her own, surprised that she was allowing this touch. Shortly after being arrested, she had sworn never to let another man touch her again. But for some reason she welcomed this young man's caress, and not only that, felt the strongest urge to share with him everything that had happened to her over the past five years.

But not right now. Right now, all she wanted to do was think. Think and rest. Maybe another time.

"Obi-Wan. I really would like to be alone right now."

"Of course." He replied, drawing together his robe, rising from the cot, and moving silently out the door.

After he had left, Padmé lay down in a fetal position upon the thin cot on the cold grey floor and soon was fast asleep.