A/N: Sorry I haven't had time to write replies to reviewers these past few updates. I've had a lot on my plate recently. Here's a bit of an angsty chapter for you : ) Merry Yule!

Chapter Thirty-Nine – Lull

Saché ran as fast as she could through the lower corridors of 500 Republica, skirts held inappropriately above her knees. Some way behind her, Anakin was heading towards the turbolifts at a far more leisurely pace. Saché had been running since the young Padawan had brought his ship in at the landing platform, trying to reach Padmé's apartment before him.

She darted in the lift, managing to squeeze in with a couple of high-ranking politicians and their solemn looking bodyguards, and hit the panel for the top floor. As soon as the lift had completed its long journey upwards, she sprinted out. Or would have had she not stepped on the hem of her dress and careened into a passing Moteé.

Moteé dropped the glass of water she was carrying and it spun in an almost comical arc before coming into land on top of Captain Typho. Saché and Moteé looked on in horror, trying not to snigger. Then Padmé swept into the room and all absurdity vanished.

"Padmé!" Saché exclaimed, getting up off her knees. "Quick! Anakin's coming up here!"

Padmé's eyes widened and she ran to shut Sabé's chamber door. "Come on. Downstairs, quickly. When he sees there's nobody here, he'll come down."

The three women and Captain Typho hurried down to pretend to be busy and were convincingly hard at work when Anakin came in. He bowed. "Senator Amidala. It's good to see you again."

"Anakin. How are you?" Padmé crossed the room to shake his hand, stealthily giving it a squeeze as she did so.

"I've been better," he said truthfully.

"I can imagine. Would you like some Chandrilan herb tea?" Padmé hated the shallowness of her manner, but she could adopt no other while the Captain and the handmaidens were present.

"Please." The two sat down on the gently curved sofa while Moteé poured the tea. Anakin took a quick look round. "Where's Sabé?"

Saché glanced over at Padmé. "She's upstairs," the Senator said without hesitation. "She has a headache."

"How did she…take the news?"

"We're all very upset," Padmé glossed over.

"I can't believe he's gone. I can't sense him through the Force, and yet I didn't feel his death."

"What are you saying? Do you think he's still alive?"

The whole room seemed to hold its breath. "No," Anakin said at last. "I can't see how he could have escaped that walker."

The conversation was kept away from the subject of Obi-Wan after that, and Padmé and Anakin managed to spend some relatively peaceful time together. About an hour into Anakin's visit, C-3P0 came tottering down the stairs saying excitedly, "Mistress Padmé! Miss Sabé is awake!"

Seeing as there was no foreseeable reason for why this should be as important as 3P0 was making out, Padmé jumped to her feet and sent Saché to go with him to Sabé's room before the loud-mouthed droid could say anything more. Saché rushed up the stairs, dragging 3P0 behind her by his grey, metal wrist, and headed for her friend's room. "Sabé!"

Sabé lay quietly in her bed looking pale and worn out. "Saché. I thought it had all been some horrible dream. But it's real, isn't it?"

Saché nodded and sent 3P0 off for another glass of water, (the previous one having ended up over Captain Typho). Then she perched on the bed and took her friend's hand.

"What happened?" Sabé asked at length. "I remember being told…the news. Then nothing."

"I wasn't actually here at the time, but Padmé said you glassed over and passed out."

"Passed out? That's not like me."

"No," Saché said thoughtfully, "it isn't."

"When was that? Ten minutes ago? Twenty?"

The handmaiden shook her head. "No Sab. You've been out for almost two days."

Sabé sat bolt upright. "Two days?"

"Yes. Lie down, you'll make yourself dizzy."

Sabé slid down onto her pillows again and reviewed everything in her head. Tears began to fall, and she buried her head in her covers and sobbed. Saché stayed beside her, rubbing her back in a motherly way, glancing out the door now and then to check that no-one was coming up to see what the commotion was. But Sabé, quiet in many ways, was a quiet crier too, and the others downstairs heard nothing.

Finally, all her tears were shed, and she lay back with a shuddering gasp. "Sorry," she muttered.

Saché waved it off. "Don't you dare apologise. You have nothing to be sorry about."

"Where's Padmé?"

"Downstairs, talking to Anakin. She hasn't told him anything, only that you're up here with a headache." Saché had been worried about mentioning the Padawan, due to the connotations, but Sabé simply nodded.

"Shouldn't we go down then?"

"No, you're not going anywhere."

"What about me, Miss Saché?" 3P0 put in from the doorway.

"You're not going anywhere either, you'll only blab something you're not supposed to. Go and…polish…the windows," Saché ordered, trying to think up something that would take a long time. "Only the upstairs windows, mind you. The downstairs ones are fine."

"Oh very well," 3P0 huffed.

Sabé managed a short-lived smile and yawned widely. "I think I'll get up for a while," she said decidedly. "But I'll keep to this room, don't worry. You should go back downstairs."

Saché nodded. "I will. But if you need anything…"

"I'll send R2."

Although Sabé was up and about and continuing her work the following days, Padmé and Saché could not help feeling worried about her. They knew she cried herself to sleep every night, and she ate very little. Make up concealed the dark circles they knew lay under her eyes, and she became even more solitary.

One morning, about five days after the reports of Obi-Wan's death had reached the Nabooian group, Padmé approached Sabé with the news that the Chancellor had called another Senate session. "You don't have to go if you don't want to, Sabé. I'll manage without you."

"No. I'll go. I feel better when I'm working anyway. Occupied mind."

The Senator nodded. "You know best. I'll go and get my data pad, then we'll be ready."

Sabé pulled a brush through her hair, then sat still while Moteé's deft fingers twisted it into a formal style. Thus prepared, the Senatorial party made its way to the turbolifts.

"Sabé," hissed Saché as they walked down the corridors. "Look out, it's Senator Cherek."

Sabé looked up in alarm as Coruscant's overbearing Senator approached them. "Senator Amidala," he greeted, bowing. "How exquisite you look."

"Thank you, Senator Cherek," Padmé said through slightly gritted teeth. "You're looking well."

Saché hid a laugh at Padmé's well-hidden double meaning as Cherek eyed Sabé. "Representative Naberrie, you are a vision of loveliness."

'And you, Cherek, are a vision of idiocy,' Sabé thought. "Thank you, Senator."

"Mind if I share your air taxi, Senator Amidala?" Cherek asked. "I presume you are on your way to the Senate hearing."

"We are. You are welcome to share our taxi."

Once again, Sabé was amazed at how cordially Padmé could manage to speak to those she loathed. She always handled the situation well. But unfortunately where Cherek was concerned, it was not usually Padmé who had to deal with him. Sabé was not at all surprised when the Senator sat next to her. The despicable man had been eyeing her up and dropping hints for months now.

They reached the Senate chamber a little early, and were forced to socialise more. Cherek walked off eventually to speak to one of his aides, but soon both of them were glancing over at where Sabé stood with Saché.

"Horrible man," she was saying quietly. "This is the last thing I need to be dealing with now."

"Don't turn around," Saché said, peering over her friend's shoulder, "but they seem to be heading this way."

Sabé closed her eyes briefly. "Saché, don't leave me!"

"Representative Naberrie?"

Opening her eyes, she turned to smile falsely at Cherek. "Yes, Senator? Can I help you?"

"My aide would love to be introduced to your charming friend here."

"Oh? Yes of course. This is my friend Saché, she serves Senator Amidala."

The aide bowed. "Please may I have a word, Miss Saché?"

Sending a startled look back at Sabé, Saché had no choice but to accept, leaving her friend alone with Cherek. No doubt, precisely what he had planned.

"May I speak frankly, my dear?" the Senator asked.

"Please do."

"You must know of my…admiration of you?"

Sabé looked desperately around for Saché, but could not see her. "Um…yes."

"Well, seeing as you have no beau, I, feeling the way that I do, believe that you would look ravishing on the arm of Coruscant's Senatorial Representative."

"What exactly are you saying, Sir?" Sabé asked, playing for time, hoping sincerely that it was not what she thought it was.

"I believe we should marry."

"Marry? You? But I don't love you." Memories of her wedding flooded her mind, and she struggled to hold back tears. Cherek's words had flustered her, and she took a few deep breaths. 'Don't panic, Sabé,' she told herself. 'You've been through worse than this. What's an unwanted marriage proposal to being interrogated by Dooku?'

Senator Cherek laughed. "Love will come later. You're not getting any younger, my dear. It could be that you never receive another proposal."

Sabé's eyes widened. "I would like to take my chance on that, Senator."

Cherek frowned slightly. "Perhaps I should ask you to explain this to me again at another time. I can honestly say I can think of no logical reason for your refusal."

"Perhaps you should," she finished, turning on her heel and walking briskly towards the Naboo Senate box. Saché joined her shortly afterwards and told her in a whisper that the aide had kept her hidden in an alcove at blaster point, so that Cherek could speak to Sabé undisturbed. "Why didn't you attack him or something?" Sabé asked.

"I couldn't. It would cause too much attention. Besides, Cherek's way up there in Palpatine's inner circle. I know you distrust the Chancellor as much as I do. Can you imagine the fuss if it got out that Cherek and Amidala's staff were fighting?"

"You're right," Sabé decided. "We should keep quiet. For now."

"What did Cherek want?"

Sabé began fiddling with the beading on her skirt. "He wanted me to marry him."

"What?" Saché exclaimed. "As if you would ever want to marry a slimy, old, ugly, short, unworthy specimen of a man like him. You have standards!"

"Shh!" Sabé hushed her friend, glancing around to see if anyone had heard. "I dealt with it. Although he claims he can't see 'any logical reason' why I said no."

"I can think of one."

"I don't want to know. I just want to go home and stay there, but I can't do that."

Saché smoothed a wrinkle out of her cloak. "Why not?"

"He would notice. Don't worry, I'm ok. No crying."

Padmé, Moteé and Captain Typho entered the box then, and Saché could say nothing else.

Three days later, Sabé was cornered again when Cherek stepped through an open doorway directly into her path. "Senator," she greeted coldly.

"Representative Naberrie. Do you have a minute?"

"Not really, Senator, I was on my way to…um…the Jedi Temple." The words had just slipped out of her mouth before she registered them. In fact she had been making her way back from the Senate. Padmé had stayed behind to speak to Bail Organa.

Senator Cherek frowned, raising a sceptical eyebrow. "The Jedi Temple?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Very well. It's just a short ride, I'll accompany you."

Seeing no way out, Sabé reluctantly agreed. She spoke very little on the journey, conveying her comments in a few words. Under her elaborate gown she could feel her wedding ring against her breastbone from where it hung unseen on a chain around her neck, and her heart throbbed painfully.

"I can't help but notice that you've been a bit subdued of late, my dear," Cherek said cuttingly. "I can't think why."

Sabé said nothing, finding the Senator's blunt manner of speaking rather rude. The Jedi Temple was drawing ever nearer, and she had a sneaky suspicion that the air taxi driver was breaking the speed limit for her. As they were coming in to stop, Sabé thought, 'Must remember to tip him.'

"Oh," Cherek went on, "there was the death of your friend, wasn't there? What was his name? Canopy? Canapé?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," came a voice.

The three in the taxi turned. "Master Yoda," Sabé acknowledged with relief.

"Sabé. Glad to see you I am. Some news I have."

"What news?" she asked, accepting the driver's hand in getting out.

"It would be best if I told you inside," Yoda said, turning to walk back.

Sabé paid the driver and started to follow, only to be called by Cherek. "Have you reconsidered your answer yet?"

"No, for a very good reason. I never intend to."

Yoda had stopped walking, and stood leaning on his gimer stick, watching the Senator carefully.

"I still don't understand, Miss Naberrie."

A ship flying directly overhead conveniently drowned out what Sabé muttered under her breath. It turned gracefully, coming into land on one of the Temple's platforms. Yoda eyed first it, then Sabé with a concerned look, but she was busy glaring at Cherek and did not catch it.

"I say," the Senator said brashly. "I thought you said that Kenobi fellow was dead."

Sabé visibly paled. "What?"

"Isn't that him there?" he gestured to the ship.

Sabé spun and looked up to the landing platform. A group of Jedi had emerged with a single clone trooper. She recognised Anakin as one of them, and another…it certainly did look like Obi-Wan. And Ani did look surprisingly happy.

Her hand flew to her mouth and she glanced at Yoda. "Was that what you were going to tell me?"

The tiny Jedi Master nodded. "It was." The look on his wrinkled face expressed his trepidation over how she would react to this news.

But to Sabé's surprise a feeling of utmost calm settled over her. "Where should I go?"

"Know that already, you do," Yoda told her. "Sort things out here I will."

"Thank you," she whispered, hoisting her skirts up and running up the steps, ignoring Cherek's calls. She hurried through the corridors of the Temple on a familiar route, and typed in the code for Obi-Wan's room. Luckily it hadn't been given to anyone else. She hid in the refresher, knowing full well she looked a lot more suspicious dressed in her Senatorial gown than when she visited in her normal clothes.

She paced up and down, glancing out of the tiny window now and then, wringing her hands. A look in the mirror showed her just how weary the past week had left her and she sighed at her reflection. After what seemed like an age Sabé finally heard the door sliding open. She dashed through to the main room.

There he stood, her Obi-Wan. He was cut and bruised, one eye was black, and his clothing was dirty and torn. Sabé's eyes filled with tears and her watery gaze met Obi-Wan's. He opened his arms.

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A/N: Aww : ) Next chapter Sabé gets an explanation and Obi-Wan gets a shock (That will probably be post New Year, as I have to go and visit relatives. You know how it is at Christmas). Have a good Christmas everyone : )