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Chapter Twenty-Three

"Glimpses of Resistance"

By the time the communication had ended, the blue pixels of the holographic image dissipating, Dormé was nowhere to be found. Either the embarrassment or horror of her present situation had driven her to her own room. Concern prompted Anakin to follow.

Padmé stood up from the desk chair and turned to face Obi-Wan, unsure of what to say. He was within his rights to demand retribution for what Dormé had done. The young woman had no right to interfere, and the outcome could've been so much worse!

But deep inside, she hoped Obi-Wan would show some mercy; that he would be lenient in this particular instance.

Padmé couldn't believe she was actually thinking along those lines, but Anakin had been correct. Dormé had meant no harm, and had only done what she thought was best; what would bring Padmé the most happiness. Although her actions were beyond irresponsible, they were done with the best intentions and done out of love.

Padmé just couldn't bring herself to punish her for that, and she hoped Obi-Wan would feel the same, although the decision was his. She wouldn't try to influence him otherwise.

"You're worried," Obi-Wan observed, as he escorted her to the sofa, his hand gently pressing against the small of her back.

"I trust you will do what's best," Padmé replied confidently once they had seated themselves closely together.

"I've had plenty of time to think about this," Obi-Wan began, reaching for her hand, his fingers lazily intertwining with hers. "And I'll admit I've struggled to come to a solution."

He wasn't going to make this easy, was he? She wanted to shake him, to force him to tell her what she wanted to know without any more delay, but he wasn't a Master for nothing. As in all things, Obi-Wan's considerations were carefully thought out to the tiniest detail.

"I do believe she needs to learn a lesson, or what is to prevent her from trying something like this again? Of putting herself in danger? Or you?"

"Obi-Wan," Padmé interrupted. Even though she had convinced herself not to try to sway his decision, she couldn't sit there and not offer some defense for her assistant. It seemed only fair. "Dormé often reminds me of a recalcitrant child," she explained. "But one who has a great propensity for kindness and loyalty."

"It seems to me she needs a good spanking," Obi-Wan teased with a grin, although his comment broached a subject Padmé had been wanting to bring up herself; Something nearly just as serious. At least to her.

"Do you like children?" she asked sincerely, the unexpected question lifting both his brows.

"I do," he answered immediately, though he was not smiling, causing her some concern. "Although I've never considered having any of my own, if that's what you're asking. Is it?"

"Yes, it is," she admitted bluntly.

While he meditated on a reply, he took both her hands in his, staring at them thoughtfully for a while before lifting his gaze. "You've uncovered another one of my hesitations; one I wasn't quite ready to talk about. You seem to have a habit of doing that." He did smile then, although it disappeared quickly. "I understand why you did. You are a young woman of great influence and character, and you deserve to know how I feel before we pursue this relationship to its inevitable outcome."

He was stalling again, and it was upsetting her digestion.

"Younglings can be difficult. I've dealt with them in the past during my crèche rotations, so I am basing my opinions regarding those experiences. They are often stubborn, misbehaving, and messy. Are you sure you want that in your life?"

"Since you put it that way, yes." Padmé replied. He needed to know that. Not now, and not tomorrow, but someday, she couldn't imagine anything more grand than having a family with him. Besides, she had experience with children as well. Each time she visited her home on Naboo, she made an effort to spend time with her nieces.

"And are you ready to do it alone?" he warned her. "To take care of all the responsibilities that come with raising a child by yourself? There will be many times I won't be here to help you, and sometimes I will be completely out of reach."

Padmé opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her with a quick though lingering kiss.

"I'm not trying to talk you out of anything. Honestly, I'm not," he whispered against her cheek. "But before you make up your mind about us, I just want you to be sure. Think hard, Padmé, because once you have made that commitment, there's no going back."

She already knew the answer, or at least she thought she did. His wariness, however, told her to wait: To satisfy his own concerns by promising to consider all of the ramifications of tying her life to that of a Jedi.

"I'll think on it," she promised him, thoroughly enjoying the gentle caress of his beard against her cheek. "But back to Dormé ," she shifted gears once again.

"Yes, back to Dormé ," Obi-Wan repeated, withdrawing his embrace, though still holding her hands. "I'm not pressing charges."

Before she released the anxiety which had building up, she had to confirm his decision. "Are you sure? It's entirely up to Obi-Wan. I promise not to hold a grudge. I won't be angry no matter what you decide."

"I appreciate that and hate to admit that I do owe her a small amount of gratitude. If it weren't for Dormé, I might not have ever admitted how I felt about you. Even to myself!"

"Gods, I hope she didn't hear you say that!" Padmé joked, looking back toward her assistant's room, thankful to see the hallway was clear.

"I would ask a favor of you, though," Obi-Wan continued.

"Anything."

"Indulge me just a while longer. We have five more days to spend together, and I would greatly appreciate it if I could spend those five days with you in relative peace. Let's not tell her about my decision until we absolutely have to."

It was a terribly evil idea, but one Padmé absolutely adored! "I'm with you," she agreed. "Let her stew for a few days!" The plan sparked a memory in her mind, causing Padmé to immediately jump up from the sofa. "The stew!" she shouted as she raced toward the kitchen.

Once there, she jerked open the heating unit, but it was too late. Their meal for that night was blackened beyond recognition.

"Blast!" Padmé announced as she pulled the scorched dish from the oven and tossed it onto the counter.

Obi-Wan leaned against the doorframe, a playful smirk lifting his mouth. "Order out?"