Dear Qui-Gon,

Alderaan is even more beautiful than I remember. A planet of towering, snowy mountains, deep blue oceans and endless, fertile woods, she is not by some idle fancy that she is known as the jewel of the Core. When I stepped off my transport this morning the crisp breeze that caressed my face was so gentle and mild I'm ashamed to say it almost made me weep.

I looked up at a sun that did not scald my eyes, and for the first time in years saw clouds. Tatooine was harsh and demanding, but Alderaan was like the warm embrace of a friend, every aspect of my surroundings from the smiling faces in the spaceport to the smell of orowood blossoms in the air giving a sense of welcome.

Even so, I was cautious, as I had no idea if there were Imperial spies lurking about. I had dyed my hair a dark brown to pass more convincingly as a relation of Breha's but I was worried that I was too fair, for the Organas are renowned for their beautiful golden-brown skin. But it seems the twin suns have done their work over the years, and my once pale complexion has become careworn and tanned.

Though friendly, no one gave me a second glance as I headed towards the speeder rentals and I was confident my meagre disguise was adequate. Briefly, I wondered how many had once seen my face on the holonet, when news of a victory had been broadcast. I was one half of Skywalker and Kenobi in those days, a beacon of hope in the galaxy who had been too long at war. Children had play-acted as me and adults had felt reassured by my image, and now only a few years later I am just another face in the crowd.

I never reveled in the adoration like Anakin had, but I cannot deny my own vanity is stung by being back in the Core, and wholly forgotten. But I quickly scolded myself for such thoughts and turned them into gratitude, as anonymity meant safety not only for myself but others as well.

I was halfway across the spaceport when my breath caught in my throat and I stopped abruptly at the sight of a woman. No - a ghost.

I have seen her sometimes in my dreams, of course, a scared, piteous woman in pain as she births her child. Sometimes her cries turn into accusations – help me, Obi-Wan, why didn't you help me? We could have brought him back together. One error among many, I had revealed myself on Mustafar at precisely the wrong time, too upset with Anakin and desperate to stop him. The endless what ifs run through my mind – if I had waited until she'd calmed him down, if I had showed understanding instead of judgement, if, if, if…

I swallowed heavily and blinked, shaking those thoughts away. When I looked again it was not Padmé before me, not a specter come to warn me away from her daughter as I have been warned away from her son. It was Sabé.

I breathed a sigh of relief as she approached me, a delicate smile on her lips. She still bore a striking resemblance to Padmé, although perhaps age had differentiated them further; Sabé's face was thinner and neck longer, her eyes darker and deeper. I had always considered Sabé to be the more regal of the two, although perhaps that was simply because I first knew her as queen and Padmé in her disguise as handmaiden.

"Hello, old friend," Sabé greeted me, extending her hand warmly. I grasped it with a smile, and it had been so long since I had done so the skin of my cheeks felt tight and cracked.

"Thank you for meeting me." A banal comment, to be sure, but I could not be certain Sabé was still using that name, or what cover story they had concocted. She gave me a nod in recognition as her smile widened slightly, as is pleased I had picked up on her cues. But then, we'd always made a good team.

Sabé took me to the Palace, explaining that Bail and Breha would visit me tomorrow as they were involved in court duties until then. I was happy enough with that, particularly when I was shown luxurious guest rooms and given some time alone to refresh myself. I will admit only to you, Qui-Gon, that when Sabé left the room I lay on the blue silk sheets of the bed and ran the soft material against the desiccated skin of my cheek for longer than perhaps necessary.

The shower was heaven itself, washing away years of accumulated dust and dirt that no stanisteam could properly remove. I rubbed at my dry skin until it was a plump pink, and experimented with the various oils and creams set out for me until I felt civilized again. There were fresh clothes as well, of stylized cut and fine material in shades of Organa blue, a thousand times more comfortable than Jedi robes.

When I emerged from the refresher I saw Sabé had returned and was seated at an ornate table by the window. The cups and saucers set out before her were recognisably royal – delicate porcelain with intricate blue brushstrokes made by a skilled hand. But the teapot doesn't match – it was red and black, engraved with the images of flowers and vines; old and well-worn, yet delicate despite its cast iron construction.

I took a seat beside Sabé as she poured the tea, a dark amber liquid which gave off an enticing aroma. It brought back fond memories of tea ceremonies we'd shared over the years, the first when she was still masquerading as Queen and had offered to show a young and bored apprentice the practice of her people. Since then on the rare occasions we met it had often been over a cup of tea, trading blends, stories and advice.

"How have you been, Ben?" she asked, even in private using my assumed name. "How is young Luke?"

I raised the teacup to my lips and blew on it lightly before taking a sip. "Oh, that it lovely," I said with relief, the tea strong with herbal undercurrents. "Luke is a precious child," I added with a smile. "Clever and sweet, and everything a young boy should be."

"I am glad to hear it." Sabé took a sip of her tea, her smile as gentle and warm as I remembered. "I have been acting as dear Leia's governess, and she is precocious and mature beyond her years."

I drank my tea as she spoke, so happy to hear friendly words and anxious to know how Leia had been faring. It was almost like the old days, even though I know that they are long gone and will never return.

"She will make a wonderful queen someday," Sabé said, toying slightly with the tablecloth. "But...she still dreams of the boy who lives in the sun, and sometimes I catch her seeming lonely even if a crowd of people. As if she misses something she has never truly known."

I finished my tea, allowing the last mouthful to linger pleasantly on my tongue. Sabé poured me another cup without me needing to ask as I pondered her statement. Luke was a lonely child also - I had attributed that to his isolation but perhaps it was something more.

"I have wondered from time to time," I said eventually, "if it was a mistake to split the two up."

Sabé seemed impassive as she took another sip of tea, but I knew from experience there was something brewing beneath her cool expression. "How did you come to the decision in the first place?"

I thought back to those moments on the Tantive IV. "There really wasn't much of a discussion at all," I conceded, and saw everything I needed to in Sabé's raised eyebrows. She gently put her cup back in its saucer and wiped her hands delicately on a napkin.

"I see."

"It was a trying time for us all," I attempted to defend myself, wounded by her unspoken accusation. "Yoda rightly suggested that they needed to be hidden, and Bail said he and Breha would adopt Leia. Why he did not offer to take them both I do not know." The selfish part of me thought that perhaps it would have been a better option, and then I would have been able to watch over them both in relative comfort.

"Alderaan needs a Queen," she pointed out. "It was natural for him to want a daughter, and perhaps he felt Luke would grow up in his sister's shadow."

I nodded, although somewhat shamed for never giving it thought before. "Luke's powers have already begun to manifest," I added, the thought coming to me easily. "Both of them together may only amplify each of their strengths, and all of us would be in far more danger."

"Hmmm." Sabé seemed unconvinced. "Yet I wonder if an absence in the heart is even worse. From each other, and their family still on Naboo…"

"They can never know," I said firmly. "You as well as anyone know the planet it too volatile now."

Her sharp eyes flicked back to my face, and the corners of her mouth turned downwards. "Yes, I do."

"I'm sorry." I reached forward and placed my hand over hers. "It is so painful to know you will never see your home again. For you Naboo, for me the Jedi Temple…all that is lost to us now, and we must look to the future – to Luke and Leia."

Her expression softened. "You are right, of course. We mustn't cling to the past too much." With her free hand she touched the side of her teapot lightly, heedless of the heat that was surely held by it.

Our conversation shifted to more pleasant topics – I told her of young Luke's love of my eopie Rooh, and she spoke of Leia doing her level best to ruin every outfit she owned by playing in the mud. I did not tell her of my banishment from the Lars' farm, pretending instead that we were both speaking of our wards as equal and loving guardians. Once I reached up to stroke my chin, the smooth skin feeling odd rather than the beard I was used to, and Sabé laughed into her tea.

"I like it," she told me. "It reminds me of when we first met."

"How young we both were then," I said wistfully, thinking back to that arrogant padawan who thought he knew it all, and the steely handmaiden who had absorbed the life of another as her own. "How foolish."

"Or perhaps," she countered. "We were wiser than we would ever be again."

"Perhaps you were, my dear," I teased. "But I look back on that young fool and think only of the mistakes he will make."

"You are too hard on yourself, Obi-Wan," she said softly, for once her adherence to protocol slipping. "I remember a young padawan who gave reassurance to a girl conflicted without her Queen to guide her. She watched him grow into a man who took on far too many burdens, and blamed himself too harshly for events over which he had no control."

My heart was warmed by her kindness, however unwarranted. I have felt so alone and rejected these past months, and Sabé's gentle companionship has been a balm far better than a hot shower or silk sheets.

Tomorrow I will meet with dear little Leia – with any luck I will provide the same kind of relief to Bail and Breha Organa, and not let Sabé's faith in me prove misplaced.

Ben Kenobi