.Ten.
As Obi-Wan looked out over the city of Theed, he took the time to appreciate the variety of shades coloring the distant landscape; hues that were diminishing as quickly as the setting of the sun. One by one the street glowlamps lighting the main thoroughfare flickered on, and the citizens returned to their homes. It was the most peaceful time of day and he marveled at the beauty of not only the surroundings but the people themselves. They never seemed in a hurry, never took anything for granted. They were kind to one another and extremely worried about their Queen.
Flowers, letters, works of art, and a rather large assortment of baked goods, fruits, and wine were gathering. All were gifts to the Queen and were being placed each day upon the first few steps leading to the palace.
In all his years traveling the galaxy with his Master, Obi-Wan had never seen the like. These people truly cared about their leader and were doing everything they could think of to convey it.
Tonight, for example a song began drifting up the palace walls. Obi-Wan could barely make out the words, and it took a moment before he realized they were in a different tongue. The tune, though, was haunting and beautiful, and he paused to listen carefully to it, trying his best to memorize the melody as well as the words. If he had time, perhaps he could look them up in the palace archives.
"Me ené fee u erou sephé. Nom feen et lenlé," the group of female voices sang in unison. "O un temété, phanlet et lawe eroull y eroullé."
The song ended soon much to the young Jedi's disappointment and as the last of the colorful hues in the sky gave way to the night, he slipped back inside the queen's chamber.
Much had happened over the past few days. Master Yoda had left and had taken Obi-Wan's Master with him. Before that, though, a small ceremony had been performed.
During it, Obi-Wan had been officially declared a Knight, and in a condensed version of another formal ceremony, his braid had been cut, and the training bond between he and Master Qui-Gon eliminated.
The effect was at first shocking, though eventually the jolt quieted to a soft buzz. By the third day, the discomfort was no longer present, and neither were the other Jedi. He was on his own, with orders to protect the Queen.
Master Yoda had determined she was dangerously susceptible at the present time. Obi-Wan didn't argue and agreed until she at least got her strength back and came to terms with what had happened to her, she could be easily taken advantage of again.
The one question that remained was why? What would such an evil and powerful entity as the one who claimed to be the Sith incarnate want with the Queen of Naboo? There must be something he was missing, Obi-Wan figured. Some reason the Dark Lord had gone to all this trouble. He obviously knew something Obi-Wan did not and that fact alone made the Jedi uncomfortable and careful. While he guarded the Queen's mentality, Obi-Wan decided he would do a little investigating on his own. All he had to do was to wait for the young woman to wake up.
For two days, she had done nothing but sleep. Even at this very moment, she lay quite still on a bed big enough for ten people, doing nothing but breathe slowly in and out. She didn't twitch, didn't even wake to go to the refresher. She just lay there. Pale and motionless.
Several times each day, handmaidens would enter the chamber to check on her. They smiled at Obi-Wan but made no other acknowledgement. Not even the one called Sabé who had saved his life made any effort to speak with him, although she would occasionally nod her head in his general direction. They would change the bedding, brush her hair, cleanse her face and arms, and then leave.
He was the only who stayed.
There was a cushioned armchair he had pulled over from the corner occasional table and Obi-Wan sat in it at night to sleep. He'd grown quite accustomed to sleeping upright in shifts, awakening at the slightest sound.
There was food on the table that had been left for him earlier, but his appetite hadn't been the same since the incident. He would eat normally again once he knew she was out of the woods, so-to-speak. For now, he would resume his position on the cushioned chair, leaning his chin heavily onto his hand observing her steady breathing patterns.
"O un temété, phanlet et lawe eroull y eroullé," Obi-Wan softly repeated the phrase he'd heard sung a few minutes ago and tried his hand at mimicking the tune. He was no choirboy, but didn't think his voice was all that bad. Master Qui-Gon had never complained whenever Obi-Wan would abruptly start singing during their downtime or to break the monotony of long flights back to the temple.
"It's a love song," he heard a hushed voice explain. The sweet sound filled his chest with a deep sigh and brought a smile of relief to his face.
"You're awake," he said, announcing the obvious while leaning forward to repeat a motion he had performed at least a dozen times already. Obi-Wan applied the back of his hand onto the young woman's forehead to check for any changes in her body temperature. Once again, it seemed normal, and he was satisfied.
"I was listening to you singing," she told him, which came as a surprise, and one he felt obligated to apologize for.
"Sorry you had to hear that," Obi-Wan told her genuinely.
The Queen moved in an attempt to lift herself up and scoot back against the padded headboard, although she was having difficulty. Obi-Wan immediately offered his assistance, adding another pillow to support her head.
While doing so, he couldn't help but detect the fragrance the handmaidens had applied upon her skin and brushed into her hair. She smelled like the suckle flowers that grew on the vines running up the outer palace walls.
When she seemed comfortable enough, the Jedi retreated, silently rejoicing in a sweet smile on the young woman's face. Her color had even improved and her cheeks were tinted a soft pink. He was especially happy to see that.
"Don't be sorry," she told him once he'd sat back down. "You have a lovely voice."
Out of habit, Obi-Wan's eyes cast down to the floor. He had never taken compliments well; mainly because they were seldom spoken. As a rule, the Jedi were a humble lot who rarely expressed their pleasure or pride. Even his own Master was guilty of withholding his praise. Sometimes, Obi-Wan could see a hint of pride in the man's gaze, but he always hesitated in admitting it out loud.
"Thanks," he told her. He needed to change the subject quickly before she laughed at his embarrassment. "Who was that singing?"
"The handmaidens," the Queen told him, which was yet another surprise.
"Do they do that often?" he asked with a good deal of curiosity. He hadn't heard them sing before and their voices had been quite lovely; angelic even.
"Only with the change of the phases. The moon," she explained. "You see, it affects the waters."
Interesting. He would ask her about that, only he didn't want to tire her out. Maybe later. "What were they singing about?"Obi-Wan asked instead. "I didn't recognize the language."
Again, she smiled at him. It was a tender and tired expression that made her appear sleepy even though she had done nothing but sleep for the past forty-two hours. "That's because they were singing in the ancient, native language of the Naboo."
"It's a sacred language," Obi-Wan said. He had done his research during the flight from Coruscant. "Though very few know it."
"Knowledge of the tongue of Naboo is required for all handmaidens," the Queen explained.
That made sense, Obi-Wan thought. "Do you speak it?"
His question brought another smile to her face without any shame to himself. He didn't want to take anything for granted and was thoroughly enjoying the conversation.
"Of course," she told him. "For the glimpse of thy smile before I gush into the abyss, only to be reborn with every drop over and over again," she translated for him.
"Indeed," Obi-Wan responded blithely, although he had no clue concerning the context of what she'd just said.
"It's a love song, like I told you. About the connection between the Naboo and the falls."
"They are quite lovely," Obi-Wan conceded. "The falls, I mean."
Their enjoyable small talk was about to come to an end. He could tell by the sudden seriousness of her countenance and the way she was gazing at him.
"I want you to be honest with me, Jedi Kenobi."
"Obi-Wan," he corrected her. If they were going to be honest with each other, the least they could do was call each other by name.
"All right. Tell me truthfully, Obi-Wan. What happened to me?"
There were still shadows beneath her eyes and despite the fact she had slept so long, she still needed rest. He wanted to answer her question, but decided to keep the explanation brief.
"It's the Jedi's belief that you were overcome with an ancient and evil spirit, M'Lady," he told her. "It took control of your mind and has been enacting its will over you and your people for some time."
The more he explained, the lower her brows furrowed, until she lifted her hand to cover them completely.
"It was like trying to swim in a deep pool of ink and each time I would almost make it to the surface, something would shove me back down! I could hear what I was saying, the filth that was coming out of my mouth, but I couldn't stop it! He took my control away from me! Who would do that? Why?"
The more she spoke, the more upset she became, until Obi-Wan was forced to sit on her bed and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. He was hoping his touch would ground her; provide an anchor – something to hold her in this moment and in this reality. Instead, it caused her to react more boldly than he imagined and she flung herself into his arms. Soon, he could feel her petite body shaking and realized she was sobbing against his shoulder.
"Sh," Obi-Wan said quietly into her fragrant, dark hair. "It's all right. Everything's going to be all right."
He continued to hold her, tightly at first because she required it, and then more gently. After several minutes, she lifted her head and apologized, sniffing and dabbing her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown.
"How do you know?" she asked him point blank. "How can you be sure it won't happen again? I didn't even get a warning. One minute, I was listening to a report from the mining guild, and the next thing I know, I'm falling into this black pit. I couldn't tell which way was down or up. It was dark and I was so scared."
Out of desperation, Obi-Wan grasped both her hands and held them tightly in his own. "Look at me, M'Lady."
"Padmé," she insisted. "You called me that once. I remember."
Yes, he had. And at a very opportune moment. "Padmé, listen. That's why I'm here. I'm going to protect you, but I'm also going to teach you. Once you're fully recovered, I'll train you how to protect your mind."
"How can you do that?" she asked with a cynical huff. "I'm not a Jedi. I can't do the things you can."
"Maybe not, but you are good. I sensed it the minute I walked into the throne room and saw you standing there. Inside you there is Light. All we have to is teach you how to use it to your advantage, to protect you from the possibility of another attack."
"He was afraid of you," she admitted suddenly, with some reservation, as if the Entity was somehow listening. "When you walked into the chamber where Master Yoda had put me, he shivered. I felt it."
"Good," Obi-Wan exclaimed with a smile. "That tells me he has weaknesses and we can exploit them."
This time, only one brow rose, which humored him for some reason. It was a charming expression and one he could get used to seeing.
"I hope you know what you're doing," she told him, her mouth lifting into a smirk, which Obi-Wan quickly recognized as teasing.
"Seeing as I've been a Knight for only two days, you may decide you'd like someone with more experience to…"
"No!" Padmé said abruptly, interrupting him and declining the option he was about to offer her. At the same time, she had reached for his hand and grasped it firmly. "I can't explain it, but somehow I knew you would come. I was expecting you and I need you to stay. You're the only one I trust."
The intensity of her gaze revealed she meant every word. Obi-Wan was glad he had gained her confidence and yet worried about it at the same time. If she was unable to learn how to protect herself, how could he ever leave? Her safety was his responsibility!
"I will stay as long as you need me," he told her sincerely although he had no idea how long such a commitment would take.
Note: The handmaiden's song is a waterfall poem found online, author unknown. The Naboo language, I made up myself.