Disclaimer: It doth not belong to me. Eth.
A/N: Okay, this chapter was wayyy too long when I was thinking over what I wanted to cover, so I split it into two. This one is setting the background for the next chapter, so you'll want to read it even if it ain't terribly exciting. We'll be having great fun in the next one, however! Mwahahaha….
Thank you so much to all my reviewers for reviewing and giving me your feedback. I appreciate it soooo much. THANKS ONCE AGAIN!
PART ONE: BUDDING
Chapter Fifteen
The next two hour shift began in considerable awkwardness. After avoiding each other for the remainder of their break due to the horribly stressful tiny kitchen incident, Ali and Anakin were forced to take over the piloting for Sera and Ryan. In very close proximity. The two looked each other in the eye briefly before sitting, and immediately averted their eyes, both blushing furiously.
Silence, Ali decided resolutely, was not golden. It was very, very uncomfortable and deafening. Things were so quiet that she thought she might scream. She heaved a small sigh and reached for the controls right as Anakin did, and their hands brushed.
"Sorry," Anakin muttered, refusing to look at her. His cheeks were aflame, tinged with a pinkish red, that made him look (and she would never, ever admit this to anyone out loud) quite adorable.
"It's alright," She said back quietly, shoving all thoughts of her best friend in this aspect out. Her hand still tingling pleasantly at his warmth in the cold cockpit, she shifted the gears into place and sank back into her seat, utterly embarrassed.
"So how's Master Lyra?" Anakin asked, trying to break the tension.
Ali paused, and she felt her heart sting again at the renewed hurt. She didn't want to think about that, and she frowned reflexively. "Good." The answer was short and curt, and put an end to the line of questioning. They lapsed back into silence.
"So," Ali ventured after another painful fifteen minutes. "How do you know the Senator?"
"Oh," Anakin answered, breathing regularly again in relief. The horrible tension was somewhat lessened. "I met her when I was nine years old. She came with Qui-Gon and Master Obi-Wan to Tattooine, and we've been friends since then."
"That's nice," Ali murmured, acutely aware of how meaningless the phrase was.
"She's a really nice person, you'll like her a lot," Anakin continued. All awkward feelings were slowly ebbing away, and the old Ani/Ali duo was arising in its place. "She was Queen at the time, but she was under disguise, you see, to avoid being seen…"
And so they passed the rest of the drive.
Senator Padme Naberrie Amidala was there to greet the Padawans personally at the landing dock. Servants unloaded the luggage from the old training ship, while the Senator approached the Jedi in training.
"Anakin Skywalker!" Padme cried when she saw him. "I do declare you have doubled in size since our last meeting." Anakin smiled back, and walked swiftly down the ramp to envelope the petite woman in a hug.
"Either that or you've shrunk," He teased back. She laughed, a silvery bell that echoed in the hustle and bustle. "It's good to see you."
"Introduce me to your friends, Ani," She mock scolded. "Where have your manners gone?"
"This is Ryan; he's a foreign exchange student from Boquith. Sera's the blonde one over there, and the brunette's Kyla," Anakin answered easily. Then he shot a grin at Ali. "And this is Ali. Alianne. Ryan, Sera, Kyla, Ali—meet Senator Padme Naberrie Amidala of Naboo."
"It's nice to meet you all," Padme replied warmly, shaking their hands in turn. "Just call me Padme." She paused for a moment after greeting Ali, and her eyes flicked from Ali to Anakin in a quick movement. It was so brief that Ali wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, and the small, knowing smile that followed afterwards too.
Padme was, Ali decided, very, very pretty. She had a graceful way of moving about, each action like liquid, flowing daintily and efficiently. Her face was finely and delicately wrought, topped off with sweet dimples. Padme's hair was thick and shiny and dark, and her brown eyes deep and caring. Sometimes Ali thought those eyes could see inside her, and she would shift uncomfortably under that gaze.
She gave them a tour around her mansion, directing the servants to drop their luggage in their respective room. Ali felt her eyes widen slightly at the sheer size of the majestic building. She felt like a princess in a fairytale, wandering the vast, grand hallways of her palatial home.
Padme showed them the ballroom where the Senatorial party would take place in two days, and the extravagant bathrooms, kitchens (nicely sized ones, Ali might add. If in the case that one slid off the counter, at least these room had enough space for others to dodge you), and finally the living rooms. At the end of it all, Ali was, she was proud to say, quite thoroughly lost. Fortunately enough the other Padawans seemed to be in the same boat, so she didn't feel too stupid.
All throughout the tour, the Senator was describing in detail the mounting tension that had been building over the summer. Opinions, it seemed, had been clashing for quite some time now—some Senators thought trade with systems outside of the Alliance was perfectly legal and legitimate. The economy did receive a huge boost from it, after all. But others (like herself) strongly disagreed with this concept. Not being in the Alliance meant there were no limitations on the uses and practices of these weapons. And that was simply unacceptable.
"Oh, but look at me blithering!" Parma exclaimed suddenly. "You all must be exhausted! It's at least a five hour flight to here. I'm so sorry to have kept you, I lost track of the time. Go to sleep, you five. We have a big day tomorrow!"
"What's going on tomorrow, Senator Padme?" Kyla asked, confused.
"Why, we have to go shopping of course!" Padme cried excitedly.
"Shopping?" Ali looked positively disgusted, and Anakin had to bite back a laugh.
"Of course," The Senator replied calmly. "You can't go to the ball looking like that! Incognito, you know. Can't stand out. That way they won't know you're there and we can surprise them if needed. Now off you get! Go! Sleep!" And at the motherly frown upon her face, the Padawans decided to obey.
Wanting to go to sleep was one thing. Finding their way to their rooms and actually falling asleep was another. The Padawans wandered around aimlessly for a while, chatting amongst themselves about the upcoming party and what they planned to do to best protect the Senator. Then at last, the yawns and stretches became more and more frequent and Anakin decided that this was ridiculous. Pulling over a nearby servant, he asked him to show the Padawans to their rooms. He obliged willingly and the Padawans followed. Anakin and Ali lagged a bit behind the others.
What's bothering you? Anakin asked at last in her thoughts, his expression worried and searching. Ali had been uncharacteristically broody and quiet today. And don't you dare tell me nothing, Alianne.
She heaved a sigh, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly. It's just been a long day, Ani. Don't worry about me.
You and Lyra got in a fight, didn't you. It wasn't a question. He really did know her too well.
How'd you know? It shouldn't surprise her, it really shouldn't. But sometimes she found that she had indeed often underestimated the connection she shared with Anakin.
Well, you've been moody all day, you were quite short with me when I questioned you about Master Lyra, I knew she would've given you a scolding for how you behaved during the tournament sooner or later, and you were muttering about someone saying you were rash this morning.
She laughed aloud, causing the guide to look back at her curiously. You really know me too well.
Do you want to talk about it? Anakin ventured cautiously.
No, Ali sighed, feeling that heavy pull and ache in her heart again. I mean, I appreciate your concern and all. But I just need some time. To think, and just…you know. She looked desperately over at her friend, hoping he understood how she felt.
Yeah, I do, Anakin said gravely. You forget that Master Obi-Wan and I have our fair share of fights too. The two shared a wry smile, their eyes meeting softly. For one small moment, Ali felt her breath hitch. And then she cleared her throat and tore her gaze away. The rest of the walk was in silence.
Slowly, the Padawans walked into their respective rooms, thanking the servant profusely, and began to prepare for sleep. After changing into her pajamas, Ali flopped onto her bed to think.
"I'm so excited for tomorrow," Sera giggled, and Kyla started to grin too. "I've always wanted to go shopping for some fancy dresses!"
"Me too," Kyla said, sighing theatrically. "Imagine the boys' faces when we turn up looking absolutely gorgeous!" And so on down the line. Ali tuned them out after about five minutes of this shameless gushing.
She closed her eyes and, unbidden, flashed up all the memories of Lyra that she had cherished and treasured throughout their partnership.
"Padawan, you feeling up to a Wind War?" The smile on Lyra's face was rather devious, and Ali couldn't help but grin back. The Master and her trainee picked themselves off the floor, where they had been meditating for the past hour.
"Bring it," She laughed, tossing her red ponytail over her shoulder. "Get ready to lose." Ali would've felt more confident about her words if she hadn't lost every single Wind War to date.
It was a game the two played periodically. Lyra insisted that it was a way to gauge her Padawan's progress and not just a chance to crow triumphantly after winning. Ali personally though her Master rather enjoyed the victory dance that she always went through and would take any chance possible to do it.
They would each start off their own little tornado of sorts, making sure to keep it relatively under control, and after fifteen seconds of preparation would shoot their mini-tornados towards each other. The tornados would battle it out, and each side was allowed to pour more of their wind energy into the little whirlwind until one won it out. The one that won would spin its way crazily towards the loser (Ali) and spin her around the room, buffeting her against the walls occasionally (she had some fine bruises from each experience) until she was so dizzy that she thought she might throw up. And then she'd be dropped, and Lyra would go into her victory dance.
Ali didn't know why she agreed each and every time, even though she always lost. Perhaps it was because the spinning was actually rather fun. Perhaps it was because her Master dancing was just too funny of a sight to miss. But perhaps, most of all, it was because no matter how badly the odds were against her, Alianne refused to back down from a fight. It was, her Master said, one of her stupider qualities.
She remembered waking up in a great deal of pain and not knowing why she wasn't in her regular bed. A small snore from her side drew her attention, and Ali saw her Master, slumped over a table and sitting in a chair, with brown hair in a disarray and eyes lined with exhaustion.
Lying back onto the pillows that supported her, Ali shut her eyes and tried to think why she was here. Memories flooded into her aching head, of a failed mission on Struelle and lots of gunshots. She distinctly recalled saying something like: "I'm too heavy, Master. Just leave. Hurry, before we both are caught!" And then floating in the air, half conscious, as Lyra picked her up with the wind and guided her gently back to the ship. And lying in the hospital bed, still drifting in that middle ground between sleep and awake, hearing Lyra and Anakin's agitated voices.
"Will she be alright?"
"How's she doing?"
"What's her status? Will she survive?"
The agitated voices and worried inquiries grew louder and louder inside her head, until they mashed into a jumble of pain and confusion. Ali frowned. How long had she been in here? How long had it been since Lyra had truly rested, or truly ate? Looking at her Master's thin, drawn, pale face and being, she decided that it had been too long.
Reaching overly timidly, Ali brushed a stray strand of Lyra's hair out of her face.
"Thank you for caring, Master," she whispered softly. Then fatigue caught up with her, and her head pounded horribly again. She fell back asleep on her pillows, her features alight with a quiet smile.
She woke up a few hours later, and realized that she really, really, really needed to pee. Yawning slightly, Ali stumbled out of her warm, soft and cozy bed and made her way towards the door, trying not to wake Sera (who, Ali was amused to observe, snored) and Kyla.
She staggered in the hallway, feeling her way across the corridor. Somewhere to her left was the bathroom, and she needed to get there fast. Suddenly her hand, which had been patting the wall silently, hit something that was warm. And solid. And moving.
She gasped in surprise, and was about to scream when the warm something covered her mouth and muffled it.
"Geez, Ali, it's just me," Anakin's far too familiar voice scolded. "Keep quiet; don't wake the others up yet."
She pulled his hand off hers and refused to even consider the tingle its presence left behind. "You scared me!" She said accusingly. She squinted in the dark—her eyes were beginning to adjust themselves—and she could just make out his shape.
"Well, let's say I didn't leave the experience unscarred either," He said, and Ali could just picture him rolling his eyes sarcastically. "What are you doing up?"
"I have to pee," Ali said haughtily, trying to retain what little dignity she had left. "Do you know where the bathroom is?"
"What a coincidence, so do I," Anakin said wryly. "But no, I can't find it." So together, Ali clutching at his arm to keep her balance, they made their way down the hall, trying to find the bathroom.
She stifled a little shriek as she stepped on his foot, muttering an apology. In an effort to stop herself from tripping, she reached out and grabbed at him, and ended up holding onto one of his shoulders. Which, to her consternation, was bare.
"You're not wearing a shirt!" She cried out, drawing her hand away quickly.
"I know," Anakin said. "It's how I sleep, okay?" He sounded quite embarassed.
"Okay," Ali murmured, and she felt her cheeks heat up. At least he couldn't see her blush.
The next few moments passed in considerable awkwardness, with each darting glances at the other and looking away quickly. When they finally reached the bathroom, both heaved a sigh of relief.
"Ladies first," Anakin said, grinning. She let go of his arm and walked inside. About three minutes later, she opened the door and walked out. Anakin squinted in the newfound light, and then couldn't help but gulp (rather audibly, Ali might add) at the sight of his best friend.
She was wearing a rather short pair of shorts that revealed much of her long, smooth, creamy legs and a regular Jedi short sleeved shirt. Her hair was mussed and half of it was falling out of her typical ponytail. Anakin swallowed again and quickly walked inside the bathroom to avoid any more awkward situations. Unfortunately, he tried to enter as she tried to get out, and this endeavor ended up with the two of them coming into rather close physical contact.
Both blushed furiously, their cheeks aflame, and Anakin quickly shut the door and regained his composure. When he reopened the door, he bid Ali a rapid good night and the two walked back to their respective dorms on opposite sides of the hallway, as far as they could manage. Conversation, once again, was minimal.
Back in her room, Ali decided to herself (very, very privately and secretly) that Jedi training tones the body something wonderful. Then she promptly reprimanded herself. Back in his room, Anakin decided to himself (very privately and secretly) that Jedi training did indeed tone the body something wonderful. This idea plagued him throughout his entire night of sleep, and when he woke up, he promptly reprimanded himself.
A/N: THINGS ARE HEATING UP, lol. Anyway, poll for you faithful reviewers—should I bump the rating up to T, or should I keep it at K? This is my idea of a K+ right now, but some people might think it's too explicit. What do you think? PLEASE REVIEW AND GIVE ME YOUR OPINION! Thanks.