Chapter Nine

'Jedi Snuggie'

A restless night had not only made Padmé irritable, but tired; the kind of tired that seeps into your joints and creates a burning ache in your muscles. Or she was simply sore from attempting to sleep on her lounging sofa. In either case, all she wanted to do was lie down on her own bed and get some decent rest.

But there was a problem. There was a Jedi in her bed. Perhaps…

Quietly, the young woman checked Obi-Wan's status. He was sleeping soundly. Surely, thought Padmé, surely he wouldn't notice if she lay down on the opposite side of the bed, if she didn't move, didn't disturb him…he would never know.

Several minutes later, the young woman gathered her courage. Moving carefully and slowly, she allowed herself to sink into the mattress, watching Obi-Wan closely as she did so. Once settled and satisfied to discover she had not awakened him, Padmé allowed herself to drift. Sleep claimed her quickly.

She wasn't sure when it had happened, how it had happened, or why, but at some point, one of them had moved.

At first, she had felt incredibly cozy and safe – like being wrapped in a warm blanket, but as awareness settled, Padmé remembered she hadn't gotten under the blankets.

And then she came full awake, although she didn't move. She couldn't move. Obi-Wan had wrapped himself around her, and in her sleeping state, apparently, she hadn't refused the embrace. Through some miraculous maneuverings, she had somehow ended up with her back pressed firmly against his chest, one of his muscular arms currently being used as a pillow for her head, while the other was securely about her middle. Even one of his legs had been bent at the knee and was lying on top of her own, essentially imprisoning her in a cocoon of strength and comfort. She had never felt more secure, even when surrounded by a half dozen of her best and most loyal bodyguards. Padmé was aware that even in his drowsing and feverish state, Obi-Wan was a tightly-wound spring of power, strength, and courage, ready to protect her life at any cost. As he'd already done in the past. Twice.

Thoughts of moving had already evaporated in the light of the Coruscant sunlight, which was doing its best to infiltrate the blinds she had drawn earlier, casting ribbons of light and shadow across her bedspread. The intimacy of the moment was alarming to Padmé in the light of day; Obi-Wan's steady breath against her neck, the powerful arm pressed against her belly, and yes, the firmness pushing into the small of her back. She may be a virgin, but she wasn't naïve.

The awareness of his reaction, however, heightened all her senses; every point his body was touching hers, Padmé mapped into her conscious thought, until the prolonged close examination and study began to dull those senses. Sinking back into the comfort and safety Obi-Wan provided, Padmé allowed herself to close her eyes, and surrender to the weariness which had not yet left her.

When she opened her eyes again, the view wasn't nearly as tranquil, and it quickly erased the smile of contentment from her face.

"I have good news, Mi'Lady."

The grin which Dormé wore was one of pride and smugness. If she could move, Padmé would've pulled on her aid's dangling braid until it went away. A childish, gesture, but it would've made her feel better.

"The Gattis root is here."

In her extended hand, the young woman presented what looked to be a twisted and blackened stem. It was covered with dirt and white mold, and looked absolutely disgusting. But she knew how important it was to Obi-Wan's health. Important enough to put an end to the fantasy she had been enjoying all afternoon.

Without thought to disturbing her guest, Padmé squirmed from beneath Obi-Wan's arm and leg, grabbed the root, exited her bedroom and headed straight to the kitchen. She boiled water, crushed the root, and deposited it directly in the pot. Once the liquid had foamed and turned a ruddy shade, she removed the pot and poured the concoction into one of her delicate teacups. One from the set her mother had given her when she had left Naboo.

The drink was foul-smelling, but she was going to get it down him, no matter what she had to do!

Anakin had joined her when Padmé returned to her bedroom, carrying the cooling treatment in its delicate container. The young man lifted his Master to lean forward and tilted his head back while Padmé attempted to wake him.

"Obi-Wan, here, drink this. It will make you feel better."

His first reply was a mere grunt.

"Come on, Master. It only smells bad. Besides, we've had to drink worse."

"Pinch his nose shut. That's what my mother used to do to me."

Anakin actually seemed to be considering Dormé's unheeded advice, his brows lifting suggestively.

"Don't you dare," Padmé warned. "He's not a child."

"If it will do the trick…" her aid's voice moved closer as Dormé approached, and leaned over the bed.

"Here. Let me," Anakin volunteered, forcing the man's mouth open with his free hand, which only resulted in part of the drink coming back out as quickly as it had gone in; a spewing fountain which struck Dormé in the face.

Padmé had been raised in a respectful household, and therefore, she held her tongue. Anakin, on the other hand, chuckled loudly.

"Okay, okay," the young assistant admitted, wiping her face with the sleeve of her gown. "I admit I probably had that coming."

Padmé allowed a grin to lift her mouth, but offered no comment, although she agreed with the woman wholeheartedly. "Obi-Wan, look at me."

Slowly and hesitantly, one gray-green eye was revealed, and then the other. Padmé smiled sweetly at him. "Drink this. It will help. Do it for me."

A moment or so passed as she held his gaze, until finally his lower lip dropped and he opened his mouth.

Obi-Wan's face skewed as he swallowed the vile liquid, and remained that way as Anakin lowered him back onto the bed, although he had apparently fallen back asleep.

"One question," the senator asked her assistant. "How did you get that root so fast? It's my understanding, it's pretty rare."

"I have my…."

Dormé was unable to finish her sidestepping statement once she had been knocked down a peg or two by her employer's glare.

"Fine," the young woman groaned. "There's this herbal shop down by Dex's. Actually, a bit further down," she added quietly.

"How much further?" Padmé asked. She wanted to know because she had to confirm her suspicions. Perhaps Anakin would be able to curb Dormé's risky behavior. One of these days, the girl was going to get herself into big trouble!

"Down by clow vrnmn mmbrm tserr,"

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Her aid's dark eyes rolled skyward. "Cloud Nine Apothecary at Madame Toussar's, okay?"

As she had hoped, Anakin stepped forward then, grabbing the young woman by her arms. "Dormé, are you insane? That's close to the Portals! There's nothing down there but spice dealers and pleasure workers! It's dangerous!"

"I know how to take care of myself! And it wasn't for me, anyway! It was for your Master!"

The Jedi Dormé had just made reference to moaned, causing Padmé to immediately usher the noisy couple out of her bedroom. While she shoved on them, they continued arguing, even after she had pushed them through the door, sealing it shut behind them.

She didn't regret forcing Dormé to confess where she'd gotten the Gattis root. Although, she was glad to have gotten it, there had to have been another, safer way to go about it. Hopefully, Anakin could talk some sense into the young woman. She'd never been able to.

She could hear them arguing although it seemed they had moved further away from her bedroom. Still, Padmé thought it might not be such a bad idea to have a locking mechanism installed on this particular door.