For all the talk, for all the hype, and for all the worry, Alderraan was nothing like Mel had pictured it. Of course, she hadn't seen much, just glimpses of heavy forest and impossibly blue sea, edged with silver sands. It looked rather nice, a sort of tropical-island planet, which was basically what it was. A series of large islands (they reminded Mel of Australia), separated by a beautifully fickle ocean. It was also quite warm, though not oppressively, and the steady (creepily, almost) trade winds kept things bearable.
For the first time they would not actually be keeping residence in the ship, and would instead be installed in the palace (for that was really what it was) of this particular Island's governor. It was also the official headquarters for the annexation negotiations. This meant that there was also a small party of officials (not of very high rank, but high enough to warrant consideration, as they were directly from the Emperor himself) in residence as well.
The building was all cool marble and stone, thick walls pierced with many large, glassless windows. Stairways were wide and low, and there were few ordinary doors and many windows that reached to the floor. It seemed to be customary to go mostly barefoot, as one was tracking sand anyway, and besides, the floors were the coolest things indoors.
Mel rather liked her room, a smaller one off of the grander hall. They were all on the second floor, hers two doors down from her Masters (he had attempted to get one with a connecting door, but propriety had intervened). The bed, like the stairs, was low to the ground, but was draped with many layers of flowing light fabrics, in pastels of blue and green. The chiseled stone posts of the bed were draped with curtains of the same, and the entire effect was rather an island-princess one. Of course, the room was a double, in keeping with the fiction that Katie wasn't playing student in the bedroom as well.
But she didn't have much time to really think about this, as they were whisked off for another dress fitting. If Mel had cared enough about hers to take a razor to it then it made no sense to give her another, and the two of them had to coordinate. Besides, it was the Empire's tab, and that was a very large tab indeed.
As the shady, faceless entity that planned such things, "they" had already forwarded both of the girls' sizes, and so everything should be, would be, perfect, but one must have one's formalities.
The dresses were strapless again, though this time the bodice section of the dress was an honest-to-god corset, complete with what looked like whale boning. The fabric was light, loose and flowing, floor-length, and the slips were satin, strapless, knee-length and rather more like lingerie than anything. Katie's, or the one she claimed as hers, was a dark, almost-black green at the bottom hem and faded to a seafoam about the neckline, and Mel's was the reverse, as usual. Katie's laces, which Mel was tying rather ruthlessly tight, were a dark green ribbon to contrast, Mel's (which Katie did not tie quite as tight, or pull on as hard) a seafoam.
They were behind a folded cloth screen, that fabric thick enough for modesty, as they would be modeling for their Masters.
There were two chairs also in the smallish room, but Obi-wan was occupying both, sitting in one with his feet propped up on the other. Which was just as well, Anakin would not have used his anyway, preferring to pace about or to lean against the wall.
Obi-wan had just turned about to say something witty when the girls emerged. So instead he choked on his scone, and tried to avoid Mel's eyes as he pretended he hadn't.
It was just that he'd finally gotten almost-comfortable thinking of her as an almost-friend, and thus had completely forgotten she was female. But in that wasp-waisted dress, curves of her hips and chest accentuated, outline of her thighs clearly visible in the clingy cloth… He felt much the way he imagined fathers must, upon coming home to realize that their little girls were not so little, and were in fact Women, ones that they might have been attracted too had their not been a relation. It was a blow, he had to admit, though not an entirely unpleasant one. He did hide it well, of course, so Mel had no or very little inkling of what was going through his mind. But then again, when had she?
Anakin was circling Katie, who looked vaguely uncomfortable, much the way an animal would a potential mate. He liked the way she looked in it, thought it made her positively beautiful, though he was not enjoying the concept of having to field off any prospective paramours, will trying to act (mostly) like he didn't have any romantic attachments to her. He'd been considering simply stopping the charade, after all, she'd already saved his life, so its not like the Resistance wasn't already interested in her. But it wasn't so much the Resistance he was worried about, though he was, than it was the Emperor's opinion he was wary of. All that vanished from his mind as she smiled uncertainly at him, biting her lip as she fiddled with a stray lock of hair. Softening his expression, he reassured her. "You look lovely." She brightened some, smile gaining some confidence, and he ached to really touch her, wanting to rid her face of that insecurity.
The girls gathered up their stray bits of clothing, and the group began its slow and pointless way to their room. The dresses were to be stored there, until the formal dinner that evening, and until then their time was their own.
Mel was looking forward to hanging out with Obi-wan, though he never would have used such a vulgar term. He'd said he had some new move to show her, and she was still determined, as ludicrous as it probably was, to get the best of him someday. Hopefully, some day soon. As preoccupied with her thoughts as she was, she still managed to note that Katie had not followed her into the room. But this was hardly a surprise, and so Mel went back to her musings.
Katie had been intending to continue the charade, to let Mel unlace her before leaving, but she'd been distracted.
She'd been standing at the doorway, pausing for a second, and Anakin had her arm, pulling her off to the side. He kissed her before she had a chance to be really puzzled, and it was as much of an introduction as they ever seemed to need.
"But," She began, once she had her mouth back. "Shouldn't I go put the dress-"
He grinned at her, cutting her off, forehead against hers and eyes nearly locked into hers. One hand was at the base of her neck, entwined in her hair, and the other was at her back, looped through her laces. "I want to practice taking it off," He murmured more than suggestively, giving a light tug to the bow at her back, before gliding off down the hall (with a particularly impressive swirl of his cloak).
Katie made a small, giddy-sort of hiccup to the empty space, entirely blown away. As much as she tried to convince herself she was a "modern woman" and capable of being herself, it was impossible not to melt when he looked at her the way he did…
- - -
Katie frowned at the mirror, tugging fretfully at her hair. It was something of an emotional one-eighty, but then, she tended towards those sorts of violent ups and downs anyway. Not that she was really 'down'… more on the edge of down. It was born mostly of sheer frustration, thought it was the sort of frustration that festered in her mind, growing out of a single incident to something indicative of apocalypse. And it tended to carry with it strains of self-pity, frustration with herself, helplessness, and the paradoxical assertion that she did not deserve those around her, that they were only pretending, and that she similarly was so put-upon that they did not deserve her.
But was it Mel who had prompted this swirl of conflicting emotion? No. In fact, Katie (lately) had seemed barely cognizant of the fact that Mel even existed. Rather, it was Anakin.
She supposed that someone with a penchant for moralizing would have lectured her on these feelings, on how they were (obviously!) the result of rushing into amoral premarital sex. She doubted that the cause could be so quickly and certainly pointed to, though she did think they would have had a point. It was just that she was feeling ignored, rather blatantly so, and it irritated her.
He'd simply been so very physically affectionate lately, that everything else (in comparison) seemed so very lacking. At least, before, he'd had to actually talk to her to convince her he loved her, and she'd had more of a sense of it. But now that she seemed an almost guaranteed thing, he'd gotten complacent. She existed only when it was convenient, or so it felt, and it hurt. But then, whenever she tried to actually analyze him, he managed to act the way she wanted him to! And yet, this sense of being used continued. If anything, the confusion was worse.
Tossing down her brush in exasperation, she began putting her dress back on (she'd been lounging about in the slip, not seeing the point of putting on clothes for just an hour, and not wanting to risk getting her dress dirty during that hour).
Of course, she ran into the obvious problem. How to lace herself up, unable to reach most of the ties and unable to see any of them? Frowning deeper, she concentrated. Obediently the ribbons began threading themselves into the correct hole (or, more accurately, trying to). She was having a hard time coming up with a mental picture of the area, and was also unable to pull them tight enough anyway. Sighing in frustration, she pulled them out. "Damn thing," she muttered. "Why couldn't the laces be in front?" Sighing again, she took the only other option. "Anakin… I need help!"
"Can you pull them any tighter?" She asked some time later, though rather patiently. It was probably a good sign that he was having slight difficulties choking her to her specifications, though she didn't see it at the time.
"Masochist." He replied with a straight face, though he did comply. She didn't talk again, probably more from a lack of breath, until he'd finished tying the rather artful bow at the top.
She moved to rise from the chair, and he put a hand on her shoulder. "Hold still for a moment and close your eyes."
She obliged, wondering what sort of surprise it was going to be… It was entirely out of form, and she couldn't help the vague feeling of suspicion (it was probably her 'inner Mel' rebelling). But she liked surprises, and thought that this might be a rather pleasant one.
Katie heard the sound of his footsteps coming back from somewhere behind her, as whatever it was had been in another room, and snapped her eyes closed. She had been peeking, of course.
Drawing in a breath in suspense, she felt him lift her hair out of the way, draping something (which banged against her collarbone lightly before sliding its cold way down further) around her neck.
"You can open your eyes now." He sounded inordinately pleased with himself, as though it had been ages since he'd given someone a present, or as if this was a particularly good one.
Katie did, and found herself utterly at loss for words. It was a necklace, as anyone would have deducted, but it was a diamond necklace. This would have been enough to knock her socks off anyway, had it not been the most beautiful stone she'd ever seen.
The size of a half-dollar, it was disk-shaped and thin enough to be moderately translucent had it not held a sunburst of a pattern in the center, spanning out to the edges, giving an illusion of even greater size and brilliance. Words themselves barely did it justice, and a very small, mercenary part of her could not help but point out that this, yes this, was the advantage to having a lover who nearly ruled the universe.
"Oh my god," she finally choked out. "Its beautiful."
He merely grinned possessively at her. The diamond may have been gorgeous, but it was even more the lovelier for hanging around her neck. He'd gotten the chain (platinum, though she hadn't noticed) length exactly right, and the gem flashed its fire scant millimeters from her breasts.
Giving her a quick kiss, he got up to leave, having other things to do before the dinner started. She sat there for several more moments, dumbstruck; hardly comprehending the fact that such a jewel existed much less was hers. So it took quite a long while for the small, bad-aftertaste sort of feeling to sink in, with the sense of having been bought and paid for. A very long while, as it were.