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Chapter Seventeen
"More is Brewing Than Just Tea"
Morning meal was actually flavorful and not scorched. And even though Dormé had cooked it, she volunteered to clean up afterward. In fact, her assistant seemed in a relatively good mood - as she should be, Padmé considered, knowing what she'd been up to the night before!
The random thought shocked the young woman and hinted at a jealousy she had previously been unaware of, and didn't wish to think about at the moment. She intentionally filed the idea away under the heading, Ridiculous Thoughts, and would take the time to study it at a later date.
Turning her attention toward Obi-Wan who had settled in a chair facing the veranda, Padmé decided to open the transparisteel doors leading out to the wide balcony. The air of Galactic City wasn't necessarily what she would call 'fresh' – nothing like at her home on Naboo, but it was better than the recycled apartment atmosphere. She joined Obi-Wan in a lounge chair next to him and together they watched the bustling city traffic.
"Tell me a story," she heard Obi-Wan say abruptly his gaze no longer transfixed on the passing vehicles, but on her.
"About what?" Padmé wondered. Her life centered around politics and Dormé, and until recently, nothing that interesting had happened. Well, other than an assassination attempt on her life, but Obi-Wan already knew about that!
"Tell me….about your family." He supplied the subject, leaning back and allowing his head to bonelessly loll to his shoulder. Padmé, on the other hand, leaned forward, drawing her knees to her chest to contemplate the possibilities.
"You've met my mother and father already, my sister Sola, as well as my two nieces. What is it you want to know?"
"Something a bit further back," he suggested lazily. "When you were a child."
"All right," she replied, allowing her mind to drift far back to recall something significant and perhaps humorous to share. "Let's see: When I was about eight or nine, my family was attending the Festival of Light. During the fireworks show, I happened to see this little boy about two or three standing in the crowd. He was crying and was very upset. I left my family to go ask him what was wrong, and he told me he was lost. I spent the rest of the evening dragging him around Theed searching for his parents."
"While your own parents were likely searching for you," Obi-Wan guessed correctly.
"My mother was so mad! I tried to explain what was wrong, but she wouldn't listen to me."
"How long before they found you?"
"After about two hours, I thought it would be best if I took him to a security officer, which I did. My parents found me in one of the security booths set up near the palace, although I remember adamantly refusing to leave the boy until his mother came."
"Did your parents allow you to stay with him?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Yes, even though it was at least another hour, and that was with my father assisting with the search." Padmé fondly recalled how proud she was when her father returned with the boy's frantic and tearful mother in tow. She hadn't recalled that particular memory in a long while.
"The picture is quite clear," Obi-Wan stated, his mouth twisting into a wry grin.
"What picture?" she had to ask.
"Of you! Even as a girl, sacrificing your own safety to assist someone else in need. Were you born that way or was it a result of outer influence?"
Padmé could tell he was teasing from the way his eyes sparkled in the sunlight. "I did what anyone else would do in that situation. Well, anyone with no concept of self-preservation, of course."
"No, I don't think so." His tone was earnest, his eyes narrowed. "I think your empathy and insights are what allowed you be such a successful ruler of Naboo, as well as a Senator now. Too bad you weren't Force sensitive as a youngling."
"What was that like?" Padmé asked, eager to change the subject. She had never been comfortable on the receiving end of compliments. "Coming to the Temple as an infant. Did you miss your family?" she clarified her question.
His gaze focused out beyond the traffic lanes to some distant, unknown point as he spoke. "I don't recall , actually. My first memory is of Master Yoda visiting me in the crèche. I must've been about two standard. If there were any fears or sadness, I don't remember them. I suppose in a way, Master Yoda was my father, until Qui-Gon stepped in and took over. I've always considered the other Jedi my siblings. I've always looked at Anakin as more of a brother than a student. A little brother who is always getting himself into trouble," Obi-Wan added with a wink, turning his head her way once more.
The mention of the young Jedi's name might as well been an invitation. For as soon as he was mentioned, Anakin's voice carried through the apartment, and it didn't sound very pleased.
"They're arguing again," Padmé noted with some annoyance. She was doing her best not to listen to what was going on, but his and Dormé's voices were becoming so loud, she would be surprised if half of Galactic City couldn't hear them!
"Stop twirling those dishes in the air! I'm not impressed with your parlor tricks any longer! If you break those, the Senator will have your head!"
"Would you quit telling me what to do! You're not my Master, you whore!"
"That doesn't sound so good," Obi-Wan noted with concern.
"You're the one who said it may be the best way for them to communicate."
"Arguing is one thing, but malicious name-calling is another. That's not constructive, it's the opposite. It's destructive."
The yelling went on for several minutes with more choice words being exchanged, before Padmé detected one of them storming from the kitchen and retreating down the hall. When Anakin presented himself a few minutes later on the veranda, Padmé rose and gave an excuse for her departure. It was obvious the young man needed to speak with his mentor.
And she needed to have a few words with Dormé.
