"It is wonderful," replied Wickham, "for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour to me there were stronger impulses even than pride." Mr. Wickham to Elizabeth Bennet in their discussion about Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin

Chapter 8: Master Skywalker's Grudge

Ferus led Padmé along the Temple's corridors at a leisure rate and soon Sabé, Eirtaé, and a few of the others were walking along with them. A little irked by their behavior, Padmé nevertheless patiently listened to Eirtaé ramble on and on about her dress for the ball. Ferus politely listened and offered comments when he thought it best.

Soon, they had wandered out of the Temple and to a nearby shop that specialized in women's accessories. Though he doubtfully viewed the store and Eirtaé rushing in with the others rushing inside, Ferus did not complain but gallantly held open the front door for a flustered Padmé. Soon, they caught up with Sabé and browsed alongside her.

"I can't decide which would look best with my dress," Sabé sighed, examining two bolts of ribbon. Turning to her companions, she asked, "Which do you think Master Kenobi would like best."

Ferus seemed stunned by this revelation but cheerfully said, "You do not want my opinion. I have such bad taste that Master Siri has to buy my robes when I need a new one.

"That must be quite embarrassing for you," Padmé teased, having moved behind the shelf so she was looking at him through it. "Whatever do the Masters do with you?"

His face went grim, immediately wiping the grin off of her face. "Oh, they ignore me," he said bluntly, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. Upon seeing her downtrodden face, he immediately attempted to muster a smile. "I am of little importance," he continued, fidgeting with a scrap of cloth, "and with such Knights as Skywalker and Kenobi around, they can afford to do so."

"You are so hard on yourself," Padmé admonished, rushing to his side.

"It is the truth," he replied gravely, "but I try to not let it get to me."

"Oh, Padmé! Look at this ribbon!" Eirtaé cried out, nearly knocking down everything as she rushed to her. Hasty as usual, she had already cut the ribbon from the bolt and was waving it about as if it were already hers. Suddenly, her smile was replaced with a pout. "Padmé, do you have a couple of credits? I forgot to bring some."

"You break it, you buy it," Padmé said unsympathetically. "I do not need to clean up after your mistakes." Inside, she was embarrassed at having been caught in such a situation in front of her handsome Jedi companion.

"Allow me," Ferus interjected, pulling a few credits out of his pocket.

Giggling, Eirtaé practically snatched the currency out of his hand and skipped off.

When she realized that he had done so for her sake, Padmé averted her eyes from his gaze and blushed.

Perhaps not all the Jedi were so disagreeable.
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Later on, Jedi Temple

Having purchased everything they needed, or rather wanted, they wandered back to the Jedi Temple. All of the young ladies found Ferus to be quite charming and they all took turns asking him questions about himself and his life as a Jedi Knight. Jealous that Padmé had won his affections, Eirtaé alternated between shooting Padmé angry looks and admiring ones to Ferus.

Much to their surprise, they soon saw two familiar Masters striding towards them. Having seen them first, Eirtaé cried out in a loud and very obnoxious voice, "Master Kenobi! How do you like my ribbons for the ball?" She then proceeded to wave them about as she skipped around the corridor.

The Jedi Master seemed quite baffled by her behavior and finally managed to stammer, "They are quite lovely." His eyes then shifted to gaze at Sabé who had turned a pretty pink upon seeing her lover. "How are you doing today, Miss Sabé?"

"Quite well, thank you," she whispered.

"We were just coming to see you," Obi-Wan bluntly announced, pointing his thumb at his companion.

Anakin was in a quiet mood and, oddly enough, it appeared that he was refusing to look at Padmé, for his eyes remained glued to the ground and a pink tint touched his tanned face. His real fingers fidgeted with his gloved one as he stood there.

"How are you, Master Skywalker?" Padmé asked politely, deciding to return the begrudging civilest he had shown her earlier.

"Well, thank you," he mumbled, his bad mood flaring.

"Where are you ladies and gentlemen just coming from?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Shopping," Sabé replied, causing the Jedi to sigh.

Upon hearing this discussion, Anakin looked up to see Ferus standing there. The effect was instantaneous- his nostrils flared as his eyes widened and filled with anger.

Seeing this sudden shift in his mood, Padmé worriedly looked at her companion but then saw that he was gulping and looking rather nervous.

With a sneer, Anakin whipped around and walked off, his robe flying up behind him in his wake.

Shocked by this odd behavior, Padmé looked to Ferus for an answer, but he just shook his head.

She wasn't the only one who was confused for, after mumbling something about Anakin and a lack of maturity, Obi-Wan bowed to them before following after his friend.

"That was weird," Padmé murmured a minute after the other women followed the two Masters.

"Not really," Ferus muttered.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked curiously.

He led her over to a nearby window and sat her down on the ledge. "Anakin Skywalker and I have… quite the history. Do you know him well?"

"Does anybody?" she replied ruefully. "I know the basics…"

"Then you must know what a powerful Jedi he is."

"It's been mentioned a few times," she conceded.

"We were practically raised together- before my Master, Siri Tachi, got married, she and Obi-Wan had been very close friends. Because of this, we spent a lot of time together. Though I was his best friend's padawan, he never seemed to like me much, and neither did Anakin."

"That was really mean of them," Padmé riled. "Did you do anything to make them not like you?"

He shook his head. "I always brushed it off and waited for Anakin to mature, but three years ago, he did something that was completely unforgivable."

"What?" Padmé asked eagerly.

"He got the seat on the Jedi Council that was rightfully mine," he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Obi-Wan convinced the others that I was not mature enough to be on the Council and, with the help of Anakin, they put me in very bad lighting." He shrugged. "I am still a padawan while they both got seats on the Council."

"Why didn't you try to fix it?" Padmé gasped.

Ferus shook his head. "I respect Master Kenobi out of admiration for my Master, but don't you see- the public and the Jedi love Anakin. If I tried to go against his word, it would only make me look bad."

"What about your Master? Can't she help you?"

A small grin appeared on his face. "A pregnant woman taking on the Jedi Council?"

"Oh. Well, wait until the moment is right, and then reveal it," she suggested.

Before, she had not liked Anakin, but his hand in this deception truly revolted her. She had viewed him as malicious and arrogant, but this sneakiness… well, Padmé had never thought that he would go that low.

"Master Skywalker had better watch it," she muttered under her breath, "for I might not be a cranky pregnant woman, but I am quite fierce when it comes to protecting a friend."
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Later that Night

"Oh, my dears, I am so nervous I can hardly breathe," the Headmistress whimpered to Padmé and Rabé who were diligently fanning her.

"Thank goodness I will not be there," Sabé muttered to Padmé who giggled.

"And where do you think you will be going, Missie?"

"Master Kenobi has asked for me to dine with him at the Master's table again," Sabé said fearfully. Madame DesLauriers hadn't even blinked yet, but she could tell what was about to happen.

"Absolutely not!" the headmistress cried out in a shrill voice that made her two 'servants' cover their ears.

"But…"

"I said no."

Sulking was something highly uncharacteristic of Sabé, so Padmé and Rabé became increasingly worried about her. Unfortunately, instead of comforting their fried, they were forced to continue waiting on their headmistress.

That is, until there was a knocking at the door.

It is truly amazing at how quickly people can do something if they have it in their minds to do so. Just minutes ago, all the young woman had been leisurely sitting around waiting for dinner time, but after See Threepio had announced Palo's arrival, there was an unprecedented scurrying about.

Finally, the door opened and their guest was allowed to enter.

He was a tall young man, around the age of twenty five. With curly black hair and equally dark eyes, he caused all the ladies to sigh as he entered. In his arms were numerous supplies, art stuff apparently.

"Madame DesLauriers?" he asked in a pompous tone.

In an instant, all of the ladies decided that they did not like him so much.

With a slight nod of his head, he set down his parcels on a nearby table and came to stand before the gaping Headmistress.

"My dear lady," he said with a regal bow. "I am flattered that you have considered me worthy of your humble presence. Palo at your service, My Lady." Bowing again, he expectantly watched the headmistress, but she seemed unable to think of anything intelligent to say.

"It is a… pleasure to have you here," Sabé stammered, obviously lying.

Palo did not seem to notice this. "And what is your name, my fair lady?"

Had Obi-Wan been the speaker, Sabé would have surely blushed but, as it was not him, she instead fixed a polite look on her face. "Sabé, sir."

"Sabé," he whispered. "That is a beautiful name." Without her consent, he bent over and kissed her hand. In this brief moment, all of the girls, including the headmistress, burst into giggles but immediately became solemn as he stood upright once more. "Shall we go to dinner?"
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Ten Minutes Later in the Dining Hall

Padmé was soon the unfortunate recipient of Palo's attention, for he sat between her and Sabé.

"I must compliment the person who made this wonderful arrangement of shura fruit," Palo randomly announced, inspecting the fruit on the end of his fork. "It is a rare time that I get to enjoy such a delicacy, and never have I tasted anything so delicious. Which of my fair hostesses might I thank?"

Down at the other end of the table, Eirtaé failed to conceal a giggle with her hands, but she eventually snorted.

He did not notice.

"We are quite capable of having our own cook," the Headmistress replied tersely, pursing her thin lips. "Here at the Temple, we enjoy the same fare as our Jedi hosts."

"At my patroness' lovely estate, we enjoy such wonderful food as this," he continued on. "Surely you have heard of Lady DeBourgh."

All the women had, but before anyone could nod, Padmé blurted out, "No I'm afraid I haven't. Could you please tell us about her?"

This seemed to delight the young man to no end. "She is a most delightful woman and a kind benefactor, why, without her abundant kindness, I would never have become the esteemed artist I am now."

Padmé could only feel disgust at this. "You are lucky," she agreed, her voice coated with sarcasm knowing that he would never notice it.

"Indeed," he agreed before cramming his mouth full with an inappropriate amount of food. "She has the most charming daughter."

"Has she made her entrance into society yet?" the headmistress asked, determined to hate the fortunate ladies.

Palo sighed. "Miss DeBourgh hasn't been blest with her mother's great stamina and health, but she is a charming little thing." He laughed quietly to himself, causing all the Nubian women to look at each other in alarm. "I do take the liberty, though, of giving my lady such little compliments that are certain to be flattering for her."

"She is fortunate," Padmé giggled.

"I do it in such a manner so as that she will not think that my words are rehearsed," he confided.

"Believe me," Padmé said with a straight face, "no one would ever believe that your manners were rehearsed."

The table exploded with snickers and giggles.

"Thank you for the kind compliment," he said gravely. "I brought with me many of my more esteemed works of art- would you all care to attend an impromptu exposition after dinner."

All of the women groaned.
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Two Hours Later, Guest Common Room

"And that is why you should never use that type of brush," Palo ended solemnly, gazing into each of the sleepy faces before him.

"Is it over?" Eirtaé blurted out, instantly being shushed by her fellow classmates.

"You are quite rude," Palo admonished, truly offended.

Taking it that his lecture was over, the young ladies immediately scattered and tried to look busy.

"Madame DesLauriers, could I please have a word with you?" he asked the miffed headmistress in what he thought was a whisper.

Twenty pairs of ears perked up though none of the ladies looked up from their activities.

"As you might have heard," he continued on in his hushed tone, "I have been the kind recipient of an enormous estate in the Nubian countryside."

"I had heard that."

"I intend to take a wife to be my happy companion," he continued, giving her what he thought was a meaningful look.

"I'm sure she will be very happy indeed," Madame DesLauriers said in a more agreeable tone upon having realized his meaning.

"Do I have your permission to ask Miss Sabé for her hand?" He cast the seemingly unsuspecting young lady a doting look.

"Oh, this is unexpected!" the woman cried out. "I am afraid," she said in a reluctant but more composed voice, "that our lovely Sabé is about to become engaged."

"That is unfortunate," he murmured dejectedly.

"But look at Miss Padmé- she's just as agreeable. She'd make you a lovely wife."

"True," the man conceded, studying the young woman. "She is quite agreeable. Very well. Thank you for your help."

"Oh, any time," Madame DesLauriers beamed. "I am sure she will be quite pleased."

In less than a minute, Palo had decided that he loved Padmé more than Sabé and that she would eagerly return his affections.
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An Hour Later, Padmé's Quarters

There are many adjectives that could adequately express Padmé's reaction to this happening, but pleasure was not one of them.

"How could she!" Padmé wailed, dramatically throwing herself onto her bed.

"Well, we can think of this positively," Sabé suggested as she sat down on the bed beside Padmé and consolingly patted her hand.

"I challenge you to think of something good that will come from this."

"Ummm…" Sabé thought out loud, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I won't have to marry him?" she said brightly.

"Sabé!"

"Well, it's not like you have to marry him."

"Oh, Madame DesLauriers will see to that."
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Piloting Class, Next Day

Entering the classroom the next day, everyone was much louder than usual due to the fact that they were all excited about the ball.

Except for Padmé, that is. She practically glared at Anakin as he entered into the room.

For some odd reason, he seemed to be in a particularly nasty mood. "Shut up!" he hollered, banging his fist against the metal podium.

Jumping, everyone instantly became silent.

"We will not be having class today," he said darkly, "because the other Masters felt that it would be worthwhile for us to spend our time on more important things." By the look on his face, it was evident that he believed that there was little that could possibly be more important than piloting.

"Dance lessons."

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Spoiler for the next chapter: The Dreaded Dance Lessons

They both gulped before running out of the room, their faces bright red as everyone laughed. Even Anakin seemed to think that it was funny. Off to the side, even Mace Windu had burst into laughter, but everyone suddenly became quiet as they saw a large shadow approaching the room.

Much to her surprise, Padmé found that it was Yoda. Huffing as he slowly made his way across the room, he eventually came to stand before the other Masters. "An announcement, I have," he said, his gravelly voice ringing through out all the room. "Unfortunate news, have I. Unable to come, our dancing teacher was unable."

A mixture of groans and delight spread throughout the room.

"Busy with her new show, Ms. Parky has become," he continued, his large eyes sleepily blinking at the crowd. "Found a substitute, I did."

An even bigger shadow filled the doorway but this time, Padmé had a good reason to be concerned.

It was Madame DesLauriers.

"I'm finished," she gulped, dreading the moment her name was drawn. Knowing the boisterous headmistress, there was sure to be a scene when she found out who Padmé's dancing partner was to be.

The large woman waved her bangle covered wrists as she gave the Jedi what was supposed to be a warm smile. "Such happy faces!" she exclaimed.

"Oh no," Sabé groaned.

Everyone turned their attention back to the Goblet at which Master Skywalker now stood. Suddenly, the lights went dimmed, causing his golden hair to become a bluish color in the odd light. The flames flickered, instantly silencing everyone.

"What's going on?" Eirtaé asked rather loudly only to be shushed by a multitude of annoyed beings.

Out of the Goblet flew a small piece of paper which Anakin patiently snatched. Soon, another piece fluttered up and he read what was on it.