Much of the briefing went by in a blur. It was clear early on that this new terrorist threat on Naboo had no connection to their earlier conflict with the Trade Federation. Obi-Wan had quickly realized that his presence was less a matter of actively offering help to the Naboo and more to assure the planetary government of continued Republic and Jedi support. The Jedi would be of little help after this meeting.
Padmé, on the other hand, was still needed. She was experienced in governing the planet. And though she would not be making any of the vital decisions, the people still trusted her. Her presence would go a long way in stemming some of the paranoia existing in Theed due to the terrorism. And, if this group was acting out of opposition to the new government, the knowledge that their former Queen (as popular as she was) was on the planet working with the new Queen may give them faith. A little faith could go a long way toward cessation of hostilities.
On his way out of the throne room, Obi-Wan gave his respects to Queen Shalla, and assured her of his continued presence through the week. Their conversation was formal and brief. But as they spoke, the Jedi felt a strong, single presence moving across the room to stand behind him. He could feel her eyes on him, and it made him uneasy. A voice within told him that speaking with Senator Amidala may not be the wisest thing to do. And Obi-Wan Kenobi was not one to ignore his instincts.
He was glad to meet Captain Panaka once again at the door. And, luckily, Panaka offered to guide him personally to the residence halls of the palace. Though Obi-Wan had been in Theed Palace before, the layout of the building seemed to now escape him for some reason. He could think of nothing but those deep brown eyes as he coldly had muttered a formal greeting and fled the throne room.
Had he taken the time to glance over his shoulder, he would have seen Senator Amidala as she stood alone, surrounded by a sea of Noobian representatives, a hurt and confused look on her face.
With three main rooms, Obi-Wan's guest quarters were more like a small apartment than a room for one person. It was grand indeed. Through the front door, there was a charming sitting area. Off to the right was a large master bedroom. And branching from that was a bathroom and a dressing area equipped with a spacious closet. Marble sculptures and artworks, created by Noobian artists no doubt, decorated the room and added a feeling of opulence reminiscent of the palace itself
Alone in the sitting room, Obi-Wan stood in front of the large bay window that opened to the Noobian landscape. Though the sun had set some time ago, he could still hear the sound of the waterfalls that surrounded the capital.
Having successfully avoided Padmé that afternoon, as well as that evening, he now pondered the logic of his actions. Why didn't he want to talk to her? And now, he chastised himself, why am I not being mindful of my own feelings? The answer was clear. He was attracted to her; and that could be dangerous if he were not careful.
Despite the feeling that he had done the right thing for everyone involved, the Jedi went to sleep that night feeling quite unhappy. He had obviously avoided her, practically running out at the end of the briefing and declining the Queen's invitation for dinner. And how had his obvious absence made Padmé feel? The Senator was far from stupid and it wouldn't take much thought to realize that his nonappearance was intentional.
It was clear that an apology was in order. Though just how he would explain himself, while remaining honest to them both, was a problem that would have to be dealt with later.
The Jedi woke suddenly from a deep sleep. There was something wrong, he could feel it. Though what it was, he couldn't be sure. Wearing only his tan Jedi leggings he bolted out of bed and headed for the door to his quarters, pausing just long enough to force pull his lightsaber into his waiting hand.
The door opened and, catlike, Obi-Wan entered the large marble hallway. Though the darkness surrounded him, he could almost see as he reached out with his senses. Through the Force he felt for the source of the disturbance. Bare feet met the plush red carpet as he stalked toward another room in the residential part of Theed's royal palace.
Leaning into the door he listened with his ears and the Force. He sensed only one person in the room beyond, a person in deep discomfort. What other dangers could be within were unknown. The Force in his fingertips, he slowly unlocked and opened the door, Jedi weapon at the ready.
Obi-Wan began to see shapes emerge, as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. Gingerly, he entered a room that looked quite similar to his own and his sensitive ears picked up the sound of muffled cries coming from the bedroom. In the bed a lone figure thrashed about and wept uncontrollably.
The person, what looked like a woman, was clearly in the throes of a violent nightmare. He approached slowly, unable to stop his feet. This woman was in pain and, now that he had already broken into her quarters, the Jedi would attempt to aid in any way possible.
Each step taken toward the figure, which was now completely tangled in the silken sheets, brought him closer to the pain and fear that had woken him only minutes earlier. There was something oddly familiar about this woman and it was not until the Jedi reached her side that he understood why. The heart within his chest began to pound as the realization hit him. It was Padmé. Kneeling at her bedside he reached out to her, touching her face with his hand.
The Force-inspired touch did nothing to slow her violent movements however; in fact it seemed to intensify them. Obi-Wan moved to sit on the bed beside her and cupped the other side of her face with his free hand, attempting again to calm her using the Force. "Padmé," he urged, "Padmé can you hear me?" his voice gaining in volume and intensity.
Suddenly, her eyelids snapped open, eyes darting around the room frantically. Where was she? Where had she been? Padmé's hot tears fell over the strong hands that held her gently. A figure, shadowy at first, began to emerge next to her; the only point of sanity in the chaos that she had only just left behind. Fear, bewilderment, and pain were written on her lovely face and as Padmé's breathing slowed, she focused completely on the figure. "Are you alright Padmé?" a kind and familiar voice asked.
How did he know? She wondered silently to herself. How did he know I needed him? At the moment, however, it didn't really matter. "Oh Obi-Wan!" her voice came as a harsh, pained whisper. Breaking his hold on her face, Padmé rose and melted into the Jedi's warm, bare chest. Her sobs began again, though, mercifully, less violently this time.
With hesitation, strong arms held her close and gentle hands caressed the ivory silk covering her back. He had been somewhat startled by her action, but he wanted to help her, he needed to hold her. She could feel his calm and soothing voice within her as he spoke, "What happened, Padmé? Was it a nightmare?"
She lifted her head to look at him with red eyes and a tear-stained face, "I guess so – I mean I don't know what it was," she began slowly, "It felt too real to be a nightmare. I – I've never experienced anything like it." Fear once again fell upon her face as she desperately searched his eyes for an answer.
"It's alright," he whispered, "tell me."
Padmé shut her eyes, seeming to reach into her memories in an attempt to summon the nightmare. "I don't remember anything specific. It was just feelings . . . images. There was great pain. And sadness. Waves of orange, and fire. Someone was screaming, they were heart-broken. There were two men fighting a terrible battle, with one another. They were surrounded by fire. I . . . I felt their heartbreak and I couldn't stop it. I was helpless."
A cool breeze made the sheer drape on the window flutter and filled the room with the smell of exotic flowers. Resting her head again on his chest, she took a deep breath, "This isn't the first time it's happened . . . What do you think it means?"
There was a long pause as Obi-Wan turned her words over in his head, "It may not mean anything Padmé. It may be nothing more than a nightmare . . . Or you could be gaining some insight into events that have yet to take place."
"The future? I thought only Jedi have that power."
"It is not unheard of for a non-Force user to tap into it's power. Though it is rare . . . But don't worry. It is often when we attempt to change the future that we aid our visions in becoming reality," He explained.
Obi-Wan continued to hold her, rocking her gently back and forth. As she opened her mouth to speak again, he hushed her, "Don't think about it any more. It's over . . . Here. Why don't you try to get some sleep? If you need me, I'm just down the hall."
Gently, the Jedi Knight lowered her head to rest once more on the pillow. Looking down at her for several long seconds, he brushed away the remaining tears from her cheeks. Something held him in his place. How could he leave her? Did he want to? Well, you certainly can't remain here can you Master Kenobi?, he chastised himself. Decision made for him, long ago when he joined the order, he turned to leave.
Though he found know that there was something holding him. Not his desire to remain, but a small hand had reached out to him. "Please – I need . . . Please stay with me." Though her voice was calm, almost seductive, her eyes begged him to heed her request.
There, in that darkened room with the breeze fluttering in, a terrible battle was fought. The great Jedi Knight argued with himself. He wanted to stay, wanted to help her, but he knew that he shouldn't. "Padmé," he began, "I – I don't . . ."
"Don't leave me Obi-Wan. I need a friend, nothing more."
It isn't what you need that worries me, he mused, it's what you might want . . . and I'm afraid that I may not be able to refuse you. Try as he might, though, he lost his battle. It was true, he couldn't refuse her. His will dissolved, he pulled back the covers of her bed and slid in to lie next to her. She cuddled up to the warmth of his chest and quickly fell asleep.
Obi-Wan listened to her breathing, the warm air tickling his strong chest as she exhaled.
He saw nothing, the room was pitch black, save for a patch of moonlight streaming through the tall windows on either side of the bed.
As he inhaled deeply, her unique sent filled his nostrils and clouded his mind, so powerful he could almost taste her. It was a smell he remembered from years before: Noobian roses and waterfalls.
Arms firmly around her small waist, hands gently stroking her back to lull her into the deepest of sleeps, he marveled at her physical being: the soft skin of her arms, the feminine curves under the silk of a nightgown.
And with his sixth sense, the Jedi felt her very essence, the spirit within.
I have a bad feeling about this, he thought, This could be most dangerous. Such actions . . . such feelings are forbidden. I just wish she weren't so beautiful.