Dearly Departed: Chapter Four
The moment they had arrived at the home of Senator Organa, his wife, Breha had become firmly attached to Padmé. Bail hadn't exaggerated. The woman seemed fascinated with the situation.
"I've arranged for a suite to be prepared on the first level, because, well…" the woman paused, apparently unsure of how to explain her reasoning. "We don't want you having to go up and down all those stairs all the time, do we?"
"I could've managed," Padmé tried to convince her as she lifted a bag Master Yoda had placed her meager belongings in.
The med gown had been left on board, and in its place, she was wearing the travel outfit she'd had on when she unknowingly delivered Obi-Wan to Mustafar; An outfit which had led to a whole new series of questions and lies.
"Why are my clothes the wrong size? I don't remember even owning this outfit. Are you sure it's mine? Have I lost weight? This top is literally three sizes too big!"
He had explained they had been in a rush to leave and he had offered to pack for her. Apparently, he had grabbed the wrong things.
"Why were we in such a hurry? Was I injured? I don't even remember."
The assassin had broken into her home and he'd found her knocked out cold, Obi-Wan explained. He had carried her to the ship himself and grabbed only a few necessities. The med droids had cared for her on board Bail's yacht, he told her, which explained the med gown: An explanation with glimpses of the truth concealed within, and one which seemed to satisfy her for the time-being.
The two women were walking arm in arm through the obviously deserted palace, which eased some of his worry. During his various missions, Obi-Wan had become rather familiar with palace staff and their tendencies to spread gossip. Breha, apparently had the same understanding, and he relaxed a little knowing she was protecting their privacy.
After passing through the main areas, they walked through a hidden door in Bail's library and entered a narrow hall which gradually opened into a roomy private bed and bath.
Obi-Wan was appreciative of the size of the space, although the first thing he noticed was the protective coverings. Inside the room, every single piece of furniture was wrapped with what appeared to be clear plastic. The Queen obviously wasn't taking any chances.
"You two get comfortable. I'll return in a moment with a change of clothes for you both, as well as some refreshments," Breha announced from the doorway, smiling to disguise her own worry before leaving.
Obi-Wan hadn't considered what he was wearing himself. He'd been too concerned with Padmé to notice, and thankfully, she hadn't either. There were scorch marks and burned places all over his uniform from the lava on Mustafar where he had battled his apprentice. Now that he realized it, he would be happy to change; one less thing to spark a memory he would prefer to forget.
But then there was the other thing: Padmé. He couldn't look at her without feeling regret for what had happened to her, as well as what was happening now. Somewhere in this palace were her children. Until the situation had resolved, everyone had agreed that Breha and a few trustworthy staff members would care for them. Master Yoda would stay as long as he could, to conceal their auras within the Force in order to protect them from their father.
After Padmé…Obi-Wan paused in his thinking, uncomfortable with the realities of her future. Afterwards, he edited himself, afterwards, the children would have to be separated; for their own safety. In the meantime, his duty was to protect and care for their mother.
"That's strange," he heard her utter from the other side of room, while he stared out the windows toward the distant mountains.
"What is it?"
She held up her hand toward him, palm down, her gaze transfixed upon her fingers. Obi-Wan stepped forward to ascertain the problem, surprised and disturbed upon his discovery.
So, it had begun.
On her right hand, she was missing a fingernail. And not just the tip, but the entire thing was completely gone. And there was no trace of blood.
"I must've knocked it off when I was carrying in my bag," she wondered aloud, continuing to stare at her hand. "How could I do that without knowing it? It doesn't even hurt."
Obi-Wan's grin was shaky at best, but there was only one thing he could do. He bent over and began a thorough search of the lush carpeting in the room; from the doorway toward the bed, where she had walked. If he had to, he would retrace their steps all the way out to the landing platform.
"What are you doing?" she asked him, her tone sounding a bit incredulous.
"Looking for your nail," he answered truthfully.
He heard her huff with disbelief, although she didn't argue, and soon joined him.
Obi-Wan glanced to her hand for reference and then back to the floor. He had noticed in the past that Padmé had good taste. True, sometimes her gowns and hairstyles were rather elaborate, but that went along with her political standing, and was expected. Everything else, however, was always understated; from the cosmetics on her face to nails on her hands. Both were always clean and natural. He had seen plenty of women all over the galaxy who were the opposite, but he appreciated Padmé's choices, which allowed her true beauty to show through.
The nail they were looking for was natural, the color of her pale skin, and was difficult to locate on the light-colored floor, but he finally did. It was lying deep in the pile, close to the bedframe. After picking it up, Obi-Wan studied it carefully to make sure there were no cracks or splits.
Padmé was watching him with a curious expression. "Now, what are you going to do with it?" she asked him, her lip quirking upward.
There was only one thing he could do.
Obi-Wan trotted back down the hall and through the library, catching sight of the Queen near the foyer, where she was speaking with her husband. Bail saw him first and alerted his wife.
"What is it Master Kenobi? Is everything all right?" the woman said with some alarm, after which Obi-Wan produced the nail lying on his outstretched palm.
"Would you happen to have any epoxy, by chance?"