Author's Note: My thanks to all of you who follow this story, especially, Barbwire Rose and Kenobifan, whose kind and thoughtful reviews are always a pleasure to read and receive. In two weeks we shall properly reach ROTS territory, but for now, this post and next weeks cover the Clone Wars. I would just like to point out that I have never watched the tv series, nor have I yet read any of the books. I therefore have no knowledge of Satine, for example, which was why she was ignored in the last chapter. I have kept any reference to the Clone Wars vague, so those expecting battle scenes will be disappointed. I did not want to get anything wrong, especially from an era of the Star Wars universe which is still being written, so I decided to ignore it. Obidala is AU anyway, as much as I and others wish it wasn't! Another thing I am also being intentionally vague on is Padmé's pregnancy, because the film was aswell, which was frustrating when I decided to add two! For a more detailed series of notes on the chapter, please check my bio, where you will find an anchored link to the notes on my site, which I will post with the last chapter of this story.

The Sapphire Shaft.

And your eyes hold the blue-bird flash,
The sapphire shaft, which is truth.

Amy Lowell, A Dome of Many Coloured Glass.

Part 28: Fonder the Heart During Absence, Is.

In contrast to the usual settings when such meetings took place, Cantham House was unusually quiet and devoid of all but the regular attendants. A substantial apartment in the building of Five Hundred Republica, the diplomatic residence for Alderaan was an old presence in the political district of the Core, home of the Organas for at least a millennia.

Bail Organa was a more recent addition to the line, taking the title of Prince Consort when he and his wife married, Senator and Queen as much of an oddity as an union as Senator and Jedi. Despite the many agendas which could be made from it, the marriage was a love match, marred only by the desire to have a family sabotaged by fate.

Breha's determination to have a child of her own flesh and blood knew no bounds and Bail's devotion to her was profound and steadfast. Until she was ready to give up, neither adoption or surrogacy would be considered. Each time she quickened, hope rose within their hearts, making sadness all the more poignant when the babe stilled. Such news was kept from the HoloNet as much as possible for their views on the matter would only cause the grieving couple more stress. Their friends would come into their confidence however, for such unwavering support was always welcome.

Padmé felt uncomfortable about her attendance today, for this would be the first meeting where her own quickening would be visible, a sight Bail did not need to see at this time, for their last expectations ended tragically only a standard week ago. But he had requested her presence in order to persuade another to their cause.

He greeted her as she came in, one glance direct at her normally slight figure enough to realise her state. He raised her proffered hand to his lips.

"Congratulations," he uttered sincerely. "I hope your expectation proves fruitful. And do not worry on my account. It was just not meant to be."

"How is Breha?" Padmé asked as he ushered her to a chair.

"Recovering," Bail replied, a sad smile gracing his refined features. "And Obi-Wan, how did he take your news?"

"He found out before I was even aware of it," Padmé revealed, her smiling glow twinge by the sadness of his absence. She had not seen her husband since just after their return to Coruscant, Obi-Wan and Anakin being posted to the front as soon as their leaves were over.

Bail sobered as he descried the concern hidden in her seemingly light hearted reply. "Do you know where he has been stationed?"

Padmé shook her head. The Clone Wars had started too quickly for everyone's liking, delaying the ritual traditions of the Order, causing Obi-Wan's and Anakin's promotions to be postponed in the favour of their duty to the safety of the Republic.

"Well, I'm on the Strategic Welfare Committee," Bail reminded her. "I'll see what I can find out."

"Thank you," Padmé returned gratefully.

"I see despite all, some things have not changed," an elegant voice said as its owner entered the room.

Bail raised his head to acknowledge the new arrival. "Greetings Finis," he remarked. "I trust your journey here was uneventful?"

"If by that inquiry you mean to ascertain that I wasn't followed, then, yes," Senator Valorum replied.

Padmé turned round and made her way over to the former Supreme Chancellor. "I am sorry for my actions concerning you during my reign. If I could go back in time and alter them, I would do so, believe me."

"You had my forgiveness a long time ago, Padmé," Valorum replied, his tone softened. "I do not blame you, we were out manoeuvred by seemingly trustful colleagues."

"That is what we are here to talk to you about today," Padmé revealed.

When Padmé returned to the penthouse apartment that was the official residence for the Senator from Naboo, the orbital receptors were long past over the yardarm. Darkness was gradually falling across the planet, but the lights from the numerous buildings that conquered the land of the Core still continued to glow, betraying various displays of occupation.

As for their own quarters, the rooms were bathed in the softness of candlelight, the artificial wall pods adjusted to deliver the same romantic setting in every room, which harmonised perfectly with the Nubian decor. Searching her memory for the time she could have remembered to program this lighting setting before she left this morning rapidly provided a negative, leaving her to conclude that Dormé had ensured the mood for the evening.

Hope rose within her breast. Did that mean she might finally be reunited with her husband? Obi-Wan was called to the front barely a night after they returned to Coruscant from Naboo, his departure the latest in a wake of Jedi Masters and Padawans, promoted to General and Commander respectively in the minds of the Clones under their command. A kiss and a meaningful look was all time would permit them before he submitted to the orders, and the Senate was recalled from recess not long afterwards. Padmé did not dare to even call his name out loud, fearing her heart would be disappointed.

"You're half right," his familiar warm, charming, cultured tone remarked, alerting her to his presence on the shrouded balcony.

Padmé stepped forward to join him there, blinking at his preference to remain cowled in the shadows, a potent reminder to the enemy of his Jedi heritage. As her brown eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding her husband, she could not fail to observe the solemn, haunted look which marred his features. Her hand came up to cup his face, relieved when he did not shy away from her touch, a flinch she was expecting to come into play. Instead he leaned into the tender caress, an arm tentatively emerging from his brown cloak to wrap around her now rounded waist. His hand tensed as it came to rest on her swollen belly, the child within acknowledging the presence of its father as well as his mood through the Force.

"She senses your concern," its mother now confirmed, causing him to raise his eyebrow curiously at her. "As do I," she added.

Now he was deeply intrigued. "I had no idea that was possible."

"You are in good company," Padmé revealed. "Neither did the healers at the Temple. But then I believe mothering from those outside the Order is still new to them."

He nodded absently, his mind focused on the first part of her previous reply. "How do you know it's a she? I thought we were letting this be a surprise."

A teasing small smile graced her features. "Motherly intuition. And that scene my mind saw on Naboo. The two girls playing with a boy. One of them was older, while the other two appeared to be the same age."

"I think you'd remember one of Master Yoda's most used dictums," his voice changed to resemble that of the revered Jedi. "'Always in motion the future is.'"

"Funny," she murmured. "You never let that piece of sage advice bother you when a vision crosses your mind."

He pulled her closer to him as his equanimity slowly returned. "Well it was either that or 'listen to your husband,' and I know better than to instil such values into our family."

"Good, its' nice to see you realise who rules the roost," she remarked, leaning against him as his other arm embraced her, enfolding her within the warmth from his cloak and from himself.

"Always you," he replied, turning to kiss the palm which still caressed his face. "Always you, milady."

She titled her face so their lips could touch, another affirmation of the love which along with the Force ensured this union. The joining rapidly turned passionate, causing her to adjust herself so she could face him, the motion allowing him to let his hands travel, one upwards to tangle itself in her elaborately styled henna tresses, the other in a continuous sensuous caress of her clothed figure.

Her own hands were by no means idle, one traversing the toned planes of his chest as well as one could when they were buried beneath a Jedi tunic, while the other threaded itself into his trimmed beard and red gold hair. In unison their mouths opened to let their tongues duel. A gasp escaped her lips while something half way between a moan and growl slipped out of his as he pulled her even closer. Beneath the layers of clothing that barred their flesh from touching something twitched in readiness, the movement intent on being granted consent to continue.

Without a word or parting, she backed them towards their bedroom. Obi-Wan followed her willingly, all previous preoccupation forgotten. Layer after layer of clothing was gradually removed until nothing separated their bodies from that most intimate union. Carefully they fell upon the bed, caution observed now another was growing within her. He took her so gently, so tenderly, drawing out the bliss for as long as they could bare, the moment when it came at last leaving them boneless.

Afterwards as they lay side by side he fell into the embrace of the Force, seeking out the current that was their child. The signature glowed brightly, welcoming its father into a bond far more profound than any he had ever known before, save with its mother. Words failed him as he observed the connection in all its glory, the ancient being wrapping itself around their future first born, loving the child as much as it loved the father who half gave it life, or so he was led to believe by many of his mentors within the Order. He felt the fond gaze of his wife beaming down on him as he nestled next to her rounded belly, and raised his eyes to catch her own in his.

"Hello, wife," he uttered. "I apologise for the odd greeting earlier."

"You were preoccupied," Padmé returned, shaking the apology away. "As for what it led to, you'll never need forgiveness for that." she smiled and her hand reached down to caress his beard, the expression widening in pleasure as he leaned into her touch. "But I still wish to know what kept you to the shadows when I came home."

He bowed his head, refusing to meet her eyes for a time. "The war," he replied simply, "and all its horrors. Geonosis was bad, but compared to what Anakin and I have faced recently, it was nothing."

"And how is Anakin?" She asked. "Is he seeking solace?"

"I left him with Qui-Gon," he replied. "But I doubt if he's broken his silence. I don't believe he ever will. Something's changed him, Padmé. He's suddenly older, mature, every inch the Jedi the Council could wish for."

Padmé studied his thoughtful, conflicted features. "You don't trust it?"

"I try to," he confessed. "But as we are reminded by Master Yoda, there is no try, only do. And there's something I never told you. What happened on Tatooine wasn't a fluke. He's fallen before." Slowly he told her what took place after the mission to Zonama Sekot. By the end of the tale pulling the blankets which covered their bed over them both did nothing to sever the shivers that the tale had induced. Yet Obi-Wan used the Force to do so anyway, waiting anxiously in the silence which followed for his wife to speak.

"Why did you never tell me this?" Padmé asked him at last.

"At first, I was not allowed to. The Council classified the event. I debated on telling you when I called you, after that fight with Qui-Gon, but I didn't wish to worry you. It was a bad time, not just for Anakin, but for myself as well. I thought I had failed him as his Master, and Qui-Gon as a Padawan. I did not want to burden you with such a web of selfish guilt."

"Obi-Wan," Padmé sighed, causing him to blink as he looked at her. "You don't need to put before me the compassionate, humble, perfect Jedi all the time. I have been your confidant for over a decade. Remember I handled my world being invaded during my first days as Queen. I think I could handle knowing about what you wrongly believe are your failures back then just as well." She smiled and added another before he could utter the thought himself. "And don't think of apologising for burdening me while I'm in this condition, either."

A rueful expression grazed his features. "I thought you liked my chivalry."

"I do, certain aspects of it at least. Just don't forget who I am." She paused to smile at him. "Lord Kenobi."

Obi-Wan grimaced. "I hate that title. Why some of your colleagues chose to address me by that honorific as opposed to the ones I have earned, Force only knows."

Padmé laughed. "Which is why we rarely associate with the ones that do. It's reassuring in a way, you know. Our allies are the ones who treat you with the respect that is due to those of the Order."

"Speaking of which, how did things go with Senator Valorum?" Obi-Wan asked her, having been aware of the plans to invite the former Chancellor to the meetings taking place at Cantham House.

"Very well. Bail was wise to include him." Padmé paused as she tried to search her husband's serene composure for clues regarding foreknowledge of her next inquiry. "Have you heard about Breha?"

"Mace sent me the news before Anakin and I left the front." Obi-Wan sighed, his sorrow for their friend deeply felt. "I did think fate would be generous this time."

"As did I," Padmé bowed her head in mutual regret. There had been an idle fancy of hers that their own child would have a playmate in the form of the next Organa. Now that was no longer to be. Brushing aside the selfish wish, she summoned her courage and asked the question whose answer she least desired to know. "When is your next posting?"

"I wish I knew," Obi-Wan murmured. "The sound of the comlink is now a thing I dread to hear."

Padmé silently nodded, her own relief denied by the uncertainty as to when this time together would be paused by the war. A part of her was fearful to leave their bed, as if it had become a cocoon from the war torn universe, but this was the life she now lived, it was pointless to run from it. Cowardice did not become her, it never had. "Are you hungry? If you left Dormé in charge of the light theme, she probably prepared something for us."

Obi-Wan smiled at her teasingly and leaned over her, half prepared to pounce. "Not for food," he remarked.

She returned the expression, let him come a little closer, then rolled away to rise from the bed, letting him fall face flat upon the mattress. "I'm eating for two now, and I did hear of your fondness to inhale."

He watched her as she pulled a dressing gown from the wardrobe to cover herself, then rose also, taking a cloak from his own to appear decent for the meal. "You've been spending too much time with Qui-Gon."

"Not just Qui-Gon," Padmé added, as he followed her into the dining room, "Master Yoda, and Mace also had their own stories to add."

"I knew it was a mistake to let the Grand Masters of the Order remain off the frontline and present for the Cantham House meetings," Obi-Wan mocked moaned before graciously moving her chair away from the table to seat her first. "You'll discover all my failings."

"And you have presented a new subject," Padmé continued. "According to those at the Temple, you don't have any."

"Oh, I have many," he returned dryly, "but let's turn to something to else, for I have no desire for my wife to feed my ego tonight."

He sat down across from her, and for a while there was a comfortable silence, as the couple broke their fast to enjoy the meal which her thoughtful handmaiden had left for them.

If they cared to ignore the view of the cityscape which the apartment offered, this moment could be in the house at Varykino far away from the war and all its sobering horrors. For Obi-Wan, it was a haven away from the perils of the battlefields and the increasingly empty Temple, for only Junior Padawans and the younglings with their Masters were in residence now, the rest called to serve the Republic in some backwater planet usually located in the far flung reaches of the galaxy.

Fighting a war which he knew the Republic was manipulated into, did not sit well with him, especially as so far they had been unable to secure firm evidence of this engineered scheme. Order sixty-six was not enough, the wording subtle and conveniently vague to be vulnerable to dissembling. Count Dooku's assertion that the Senate was under control of a Sith Lord could be counted, but only if the law courts would be willing to hear the testimony of a traitor to the Order and the Republic. This was why they established the Cantham House meetings in the first place, to gather the evidence, the only drawback was that it was not coming quickly enough. They needed time, and the ever constant concern of those in attendance upon the Organa residence was that time would run out before they had anything substantial.

Consciously he shifted his focus from that subject back to the woman sitting opposite him. Senator, wife and mother, three vocations which Padmé seemed to carry off effortlessly, though he knew his absences must be a heavy burden to bear.

He had not meant to add to her concerns by his behaviour upon her return to their apartment, drawn into the shadows first by his experience on the battlefield, saddened by the amount of lives he felt loathed to take, the darkness he was exposed to by the trials of this war. Yet he'd been unable to move from the shadows, struck by how the light flattered her beauty, adding another layer of softness to the glow which the quickening gave her. He dare not voice the hope that he would be granted leave when the time came, nevertheless it was present in his mind, that now fervent prayer that the Force would be generous enough to bestow another blessing.

Family was something he never expected, even when his former Master succeeded in haranguing the Council to extend the Corellian experiment. Yet now he knew it, his heart was anxious to savour it, not as an attachment or possession, but to give as much as had been given to him in return, the very essence of love.

Padmé raised her glass and uttered a word, the sound of her beautiful voice enough to break his introspection. "Cordé," she uttered, airing the name for consideration.

Obi-Wan followed suit, acknowledging the name with a sip of the Nubian Shiraz. It was an exchange began when they first learned of their expectation, an effort to distract their minds from the national troubles to the simple joys of their growing family. He offered one of his own. "Benumi."

The topic continued throughout dinner, as they threw names back and forth, until nothing remained of the meal but the table dressings, and the memory.