Author's Note:I'm very very sorry it took me so long to update, everyone, but here we go.
Disclaimer: The Flanneled One owns all. I own nothing.
Twenty
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Yoda had instructed me in the methods to use, and I had already communicated with my dead master of my own will, but that didn't keep me from doubting, somehow, that this would actually work. There was still one part of me that was convinced that I was imagining it all, that all this was totally impossible, some cruel illusion my shattered heart had concocted to salve the pain of loss.
This isn't helping you any, Kenobi. Stop doubting . . . everything. Do or do not, there is no "try," remember?
I didn't know if Yoda's old lesson had ever been quite so difficult to apply before.
I took another deep breath, bringing the air slowly into my lungs only to blow it back out again as I spread the fingers of my clenched hands on my thighs where I knelt in the small room I had been given. With it I tried to blow out my fears and doubts and focus on my Master's presence in the Living Force—not something that had ever been my strong point.
For a long moment I felt nothing beyond the normal eddies and currents of the Force; no comforting long-dead presence appeared in answer to my call. I remained open, my mind blank, questing, calling, refusing to give up.
This would work. I knew it would.
Yes, Padawan?
The echoing voice resounded through me mind, and then, in front of me, a glowing blue figure coalesced out of the air. Qui-Gon Jinn stood looking down at me. He glanced around, and then settled himself upon the bed. You wanted to discuss something with me? He smiled. Or were you just making certain this would actually work?
My relief channeled itself into a broad grin, and my shoulders slumped with it. "A little of both, Master, I think," I replied.
His smile widened. Well, here I am, and I'm certainly ready to discuss anything you wish to. Beforehand, though, Obi-Wan, I must warn you. Sidious is close. You are all in great danger. I am aware that Anakin is still too weak to be moved away from this place, at least until his surgery later today. But you must move quickly to get Padmé and the children away from here. His face and tone grew concerned, anxious. Trust me, Obi-Wan; it is very important. You swore to remain here with Anakin, and I commend that, but Padmé, and Anakin's children, must have protection from Sidious and whatever he may plan for them.
I nodded seriously, responding to the urgency in his tone. "I understand, Master. I will take your warnings into account and make sure they leave as soon as possible. Today."
He seemed to relax. Good. That is . . . very good. Now, my old Padawan, what was it you wanted to discuss?
I shifted uneasily. Now that my old master was here, there were so many things I wanted to talk over with him that I did not know where to begin.
I decided to start with what was certainly the most vital, as far as I was concerned. "I am concerned for Anakin," I said. "He—he seems as if he has . . . shattered. I am uncertain as to how I should go about helping him . . . pick up the pieces." I sighed, thinking over the time I had last spent with Anakin, reassuring and disturbing as it had been, in many ways, and suddenly there were words spilling out of me, get tangled up in themselves in the hurry to make them heard. "I still feel as if I have failed, Master. At the very least, I have failed him. Whether from willful blindness or lack of perception, there is much about him—my own apprentice!—that I have never seen, or did not see until it was too late. And Palpatine saw what I could not, and now he has taken my—my brother from me, twisted him, given him wounds I fear will prove mortal. Even now he seems so . . . fragile, as if one wrong word would destroy him utterly." I looked down at the hands resting on my thighs, and my fingers clenched into fists again. "I . . . I do not know what to do." And I did not like that feeling, not in the slightest.
Qui-Gon leaned forward, resting glowing elbows on glowing knees. Slow down, Obi-Wan, he said with a slight laugh in his voice, then he sobered. You are right, he said. I, too, worry for Anakin. Great burdens weigh down his spirit, and there is much you have hidden from each other that is only now coming to light. He shook his head. The blame rests entirely on neither you nor Anakin for the flaws that caused your friendship to collapse. You share that blame between you. The relationship the two of you share has grown and deepened over the years, and I am glad of it, Obi-Wan. For a time after my death, I feared for you. And yet both of you have never been entirely honest with each other. The bond between yourself and Anakin, strong and resilient as it is, has been darkened by the shadows of secret fears and hidden stresses. As you rebuild it, make certain it is free of the hidden faults that caused it to fracture before.
I nodded again. It was easy now to see what he meant. Anakin had not been able to trust me entirely. I had not been able to entirely understand the fears that drove him and so had unwittingly left him open to Sidious's manipulations. "I only hope he can come to trust me again in time," I said softly.
Qui-Gon gave a slight chuckle. You sell yourself short, my apprentice. Anakin does trust you. More so than I think he realizes. He knows something now that he was never certain of before, something that you have now proved to him in the most dramatic way possible, I think.
I blinked and looked at him, not quite following his meaning now. "What, Master?" I asked.
He smiled. He knows you care, Obi-Wan. More than anything else, that is the foundation of a good friendship. You reached out to him and you pulled him back from the edge of the pit despite the fact that he had destroyed your life, despite everything he had done to hurt you, and you did not abandon him or even pull away, even when he lashed out to try to make you leave him.
"I have always cared for him," I said, but I knew that that was not the entire truth. Even I had not been sure of what I would do on Mustafar until the moment when I had made my decision.
Qui-Gon shook his head. Not always, Padawan. And even when you were sure, Anakin was never quite certain. He has long hungered for your approval. The longing he felt for your approbation tore him in two, for he feared that you could never accept him as he was, that there was something fundamentally wrong with him that would forever prevent him from being a good Jedi, that to be what you wanted he would have to stop being Anakin.
"You are right," I said wearily. "That is what I meant when I said I had failed him. I never wanted such a thing, but perhaps . . . ." And that hurt most of all, to think that Anakin had never truly understood that inside I laughed at his antics and enjoyed his company and sharp edges, for they kept me from getting dull, treasured his eagerness and energy even when those very traits annoyed me. Padmé had not been the cause of the rift between us. She had only been a symptom of everything that was wrong with our relationship. I could only be glad that she had filled the void left in Anakin's heart, even if that had led us all to this. "He—he told me yesterday that he was a failure as a Sith, and as a Jedi."
"That is what he believes." Qui-Gon's face was grim. "And, in a way, he is right. Anakin has not the heart of a true Sith, and dark as he might have become over years as Darth Vader, it is not in him to be a Palpatine or a Maul or even a Dooku. And he was a failure at being the kind of Jedi the Order tried to make him into, you could see that yourself."
"Anakin is no failure!" The words burst out of me before I could stop them, even though I knew what Qui-Gon said was the truth. I had seen it with my own eyes; Anakin was unsuited to detachment, and trying to hammer his molten passions into the cold durasteel of the Jedi mold had only inflamed them further. Instead of accepting his emotions and teaching him to accept them in turn, to give him direction and help him to find peace within his spirit, the Jedi had taught him that emotions were wrong, and that to be one of us he had to deny a fundamental part of his being. "Master—" I started then, ashamed of my outburst. "I—"
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Not at all, Obi-Wan; I am pleased you are so quick to defend him. As fragile and wounded as he is, Anakin needs a staunch guardian like you at his side. And I was not saying that Anakin is a failure at all, simply that the paths of traditional Jedi and traditional Sith were never entirely meant for him. But you are right, that should not mean he is a failure. He is, after all, the Chosen One. I am still as certain of that as I was all those years ago, and I still believe in his potential. Even now."
"You still believe he is meant to destroy the Sith?" I asked in surprise.
He shrugged. "The prophecy says that the Chosen One will bring balance to the Force, not destroy the Sith. It was simply interpreted that way. Anakin has now been both a Sith and a Jedi. I would say that he is already well on his way to bringing balance. But yes, I do believe that for the prophecy to be truly fulfilled, the Sith Order must be destroyed." His meaning was unspoken, but clear—Now that the Jedi Order has already suffered that fate. He smiled, again changing the mood of our conversation. "So, I believe there was another topic you wanted to ask me about, my apprentice?"
I noticed that my fingers had clenched in the fabric covering my knees and forced them to straighten out. "I—ah—I—" I wasn't at all sure how to bring up this particular area of conversation, and suddenly Qui-Gon's advice about Siri rose in my mind. I suddenly didn't want to discuss this anymore. "I—never mind."
"Very well, if that's the way you want it," Qui-Gon said. "But I'd go for it, Padawan. She's definitely interested." He smiled again. "Why is it that you always attract the sharp-tongued ones?"
And with that utterly unsettling piece of advice, he disappeared again.
I sighed. I'd have thought that after I became a master in turn he would have lost his ability to completely through me off balance with a single sentence. Apparently, though, nothing had changed. I got to my feet and dusted off the seat of my tunic and the knees of my trousers, wincing slightly as my stiff muscles complained at the length of time I had held the position. I was still all bruises after the fights with Grievous and Anakin and the fall with Boga from the cliff, and I wasn't as young as I had once been, to bounce back from physical punishment in a day or two.
Just at that moment, the door gave the sharp beep that meant there was someone outside requesting my presence. I crossed the room and pressed the button that opened it, reaching out with the Force as I did so to discover the identity of my visitor.
I found myself face-to-face with Shian Risto, and I blinked. It was almost as if my thoughts had summoned her, though I knew that was ridiculous. "Good morning, Healer Risto," I said in a careful tone.
She shook her head irritably. "Shian, Obi-Wan. It sounds stupid for you to call me 'Healer Risto' like that—" she did an unnervingly good job of imitating my voice and accent "—when I'm calling you Obi-Wan right and left."
I wasn't certain what had put her in such a contrary mood, but she certainly seemed to be annoyed and I had no wish to aggravate it further. "Very well, Shian," I said, making certain this time to use her first name. It felt odd and uncomfortably intimate, but at the same time it sent a sort of tingling warmth through me to call her by her given name.
I resolutely refused to explore that feeling.
"Has something happened?" I asked. "Did you want to see me?"
"And does there have to be a crisis for that?" she snapped. "Maybe I just wanted to talk to you, Obi-Wan. Maybe I find you interesting enough that I just want to spend time with you, is that some sort of crime? Maybe a Jedi doesn't do that sort of thing. Maybe a Jedi isn't allowed to spend time talking to such lowly mortals as I."
I blinked again, shocked by the amount of venom in her tone and by the intensity of her reaction. I was torn between hurt and irritation at her acerbic words, concern, and a strange pleasure at the thought that she did want to talk to me. Now this is a dangerous line of thinking, Kenobi. Better get your mind back on track before it's too late . . . . But I couldn't help wondering if it was already too late. "I meant no offense," I said finally.
She sighed and reached up to rub at her temple with one hand. "I know you didn't, and I'm sorry for snapping at you. I don't know what came over me." She gave a rueful smile. "Actually, I do. I was touchy after talking to my supervisor. He always does that to me. And I did come to discuss the situation with you; it's just that nothing's gone terribly wrong, as yet."
"If you would like to talk, I am at your disposal," I said. "I have no pressing business that demands my time."
Her smile widened. "When you talk like that I'm never sure if you're serious or joking," she said.
"I was teasing you a bit," I said with a smile of my own. "Don't worry. I don't think Anakin entirely understands my sense of humor, either."
Shian stepped into the room. "And why do I think you enjoy that a bit too much?" she asked. "This is tiny!" She looked up at me, her eyes flashing with indignation. "They put a Republic General and Jedi Master in a room only little bigger than a closet?"
I shook my head. "It is not important. I don't spend much time here, anyway, and we will be leaving soon." I appreciated her outrage on my behalf, however.
"Still," she said. "Sometimes I wonder about this place." She took the single hoverchair, leaving me to settle myself on the bed.
"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" I finally prompted, after a few moments in which neither of us said anything.
She sighed. "Several things. The first of which is Skywalker."
"What about him?" I asked, my concern for Anakin surging back up to the surface.
She bit her lip. "Well . . . I'm worried. He seems to be healing well, but there are—look, here it is." She was twisting her hands, then seemed to realize it and stopped, knitting them tightly together over her knee. "The sedatives we're giving him are extremely strong, and he's been on them longer than I'd like. There's some danger that there could be . . . permanent damage if we keep him on them much longer. They're all known to be habit-forming, for one thing. He's already showing tendencies. He's asked me to be drugged before. It's as if he doesn't want to be able to think clearly. And that bothers me." She looked up at me, the gray-blue clarity of her eyes was clouded with concern. "I know he's done terrible things, Obi-Wan. I think he's frightened of what his own mind will dredge up for him, afraid of the guilt. I—I can understand that." She swallowed hard; I could see her throat tighten and her shoulders tense. "But he can't continue on like this. I'm going to take him off the sedatives after his surgery today, though obviously I won't cut the painkillers so it'll be a slow process."
I nodded. Force, one more thing to worry about. This was the last thing Anakin needed to be dealing with, on top of everything else. "Yes," I said. "Do that. I—we certainly don't want that."
"Well, that's a huge surprise, Obi-Wan," Shian said in the wry, sarcastic tone I was coming to recognize. "I'm so shocked." She stared down at the floor for a moment. "He—everything will be more raw, without the sedatives, you know. I just want you to be prepared."
I sighed. "I understand."
"Yes," she said. "I'm sure you do." Shian took a deep breath, as if readying herself for something, then looked up at me. Her eyes were suddenly clear and intense where they bore into mine, and I found myself unable to look away from her piercing gaze. "Tell me what happened, Obi-Wan," she said. "I'll find out soon anyway, the latest news from Coruscant will probably get here in the next couple of days. It's something terrible, I already know that. Sometimes when I look at you it—you look—it's as if something inside you's been—broken. Something's happened to the Jedi, hasn't it?"
I floundered in the sea of reactions her words dredged up. I should tell her. I knew that. She had told the truth, she'd find out soon anyway, and what would be the point of hiding the details any longer? She already knew most of it, and I trusted Shian with my life, with Anakin's life, with Padmé's life. Why not tell her?
But still I hesitated. When it came down to it, I knew very little about Healer Shian Risto. What would she say when she knew what the Republic had become? That the Chancellor had destroyed our Order, outlawed the Jedi? What would she think? I already knew she bore no love for Jedi.
What if she turned on us? What if she followed what the Republic had become? This far away from the horrors of the Empire it would only seem like the safe thing to do, the logical thing.
And we needed her help. We couldn't afford for that to happen.
I—I didn't want her to turn away.
Shian's eyes softened, releasing me from their penetrating grasp, and she rested her hand on my arm. It felt like a brand, burning through layers of cloth to sear into my flesh. "Stang," she said, "don't worry so much, Obi-Wan. I don't care what it is. I'll still be on your side, you know. I just want to be ready for—whatever might happen."
I sighed and looked away. "I know," I said. My voice was soft and subdued, despite my resolve to remain strong. "I will tell you. It is simply that—" My voice failed me, and I stared down at my hands for a long moment. "Everything has changed," I finally managed. "My whole world has been destroyed, and I still am not certain if I will ever learn to cope with it."
She squeezed my hand briefly, then let go of me. "I'm sure you will," she said. "You don't strike me as the type of person who gives up easily, General Kenobi. The Negotiator. I doubt you earned that name through a lack of persistence and courage, Obi-Wan. I'm sure you'll make it through all right."
"Thank you," I said quietly, again surprised by the kind perceptiveness she sometimes showed when most of the time she was all prickles and sarcasm. I took a deep, fortifying breath. "It is just that I am not certain where to begin," I admitted. "I—you are aware that the leader of the Separatist was a Sith Lord by the name of Count Dooku?" I asked.
"Yes," Shian answered, "Skywalker killed him during a battle to rescue the Chancellor above Coruscant. I know that much. When General Grievous is killed, the war will be over."
"I killed General Grievous several days ago," I said. "Officially, the war is over. The Separatist leaders have all . . . been killed."
She stared at me. "You—you killed General Grievous?" Then her eyes narrowed. "Officially?" she repeated.
I sighed, still unable to meet her eyes. "For me, at least, the war still continues. It has simply . . . changed. After the destruction of General Grievous, while I was away from Coruscant, Chancellor Palpatine was revealed as a Sith Lord, one who had masterminded the entire war, manipulating us all. He turned Anakin to the Dark Side and ordered him to destroy the Jedi. Anakin—Darth Vader . . . complied."
Shian's eyes were huge and round. "He . . . destroyed the Jedi?" she asked, and I nodded. My heart was still sore and aching from their loss, and speaking of it seemed to pull the pain back up to the surface. "What does that mean?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
"It means . . ." I took a deep, steadying breath. "It means that, as far as I know for certain, Yoda, myself, and Anakin are the only three Jedi still left in the galaxy. It means that I am fairly sure that the three of us are also the only remaining members of the Jedi Council. I know for certain that most of the Council were ambushed and murdered." I shook my head. "It also means that Palpatine—Darth Sidious—felt secure in consolidating his control over the galaxy. The Jedi have become fugitives, outlaws. Sidious has declared himself Emperor, and we are all under martial law. The Republic has become an Empire."
I looked up and met Shian's gaze. I could see the horror in her eyes; she had gone stark white. Well, at least she believes me, I thought, for a moment unable to chase the bitterness from my thoughts.
"Oh, Obi-Wan," she whispered. "I knew it was bad, but I had no idea—" And before I even had a chance to react, she reached forward and enfolded me in a tight hug, nearly crushing the breath out of me as she did so.
I had no idea how to react; I was frozen where I sat. She only hugged me tighter. Her arms were warm and tight around me, her body was crushed tight to my chest. Slowly, not at all certain of what I was doing, I brought my arms up and tentatively placed them around her waist. I knew it was inappropriate of me to revel in the close contact, but I couldn't seem to help myself. It was so much what I had wanted, what I had . . . needed and hadn't even known it. "I'm so sorry," Shian said, her arms tightening around me. "I can't even imagine—and yet you forgave him, didn't you? You brought him here . . . ."
I bent my head just enough that I could smell the flowery clean scent of her hair, and scolded myself for suddenly having a marked preference for the scent of t'il blossoms. Suddenly I wanted to continue, to finish the story. "Padmé—Senator Amidala—was secretly married to him. I went to her and told her what had happened, asking her to help me find Anakin. She wouldn't tell me, but she knew he had gone to Mustafar to kill the Separatist leaders. She followed him in her starship. I stowed away. When she reached Mustafar she went to ask him if what I had told her was the truth. I . . . interrupted them. We began to fight. I . . . couldn't leave him there to burn, even though he was now my enemy. I had to do something."
She hugged me tighter for a moment, then let go, sitting back on the hoverchair. "I—I'm sorry," she said quickly, her cheeks flushing. "I—probably shouldn't have done that—I know you're shy about—"
I shook my head. "No, it's all right. I . . . appreciate it."
She looked at me for a long moment. "Well," she said. "I'm glad, then." She sighed. "You're one unique person, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Jedi or not. I know I could never have forgiven someone who had done all that to me, no matter who they were." She flushed even darker. "And I know that when I first met you, I . . . well, I know I was rude. I . . . I've held a grudge against the Jedi for a while, and I . . . took it out on you. I'm sorry. I had no right to treat you that way, especially when you can find it in your heart to forgive Skywalker for everything he's done to you."
"No," I said, "it's all right. It was never a problem. Though I do admit I am curious as to the reasons for your attitude."
Shian flushed again. "It's . . . well, you told me what happened, and I know that whatever happened to me it can't possibly be as terrible as to what you've gone through. It's just that I—while I was a resident at the University of Aldera Research Hospital I worked with the Jedi Healers. In particular there was one young Padawan around my age that I spent a lot of time with. He wasn't a Healer, per se, but he was talented in that area and worked with them often. He—well—we fell in love, I suppose you would say, but he was devoted to the Jedi and neither of us wanted to jeopardize his position." She didn't seem to want to meet my eyes. "He was killed at the Battle of Geonosis," she said very fast. "I was angry; he shouldn't have been there at all! He was no fighter. And I—that was why I joined the Republic Medical Corps. I wanted to help in the war, to save as many as I could, because I couldn't—couldn't save him."
I stared at her, stricken. I could never have imagined such a thing, and my heart seemed to shrink with guilt. "I'm sorry," I said. "I should never have asked. And I'm sorry because in a way—it was my fault that your . . . friend was killed. The Battle of Geonosis was fought because the Jedi came to rescue me. If I hadn't been so foolish—if I had just been a little bit faster—he would still be alive. I'm so sorry."
She blinked. "What?" Her eyes narrowed. "You're blaming yourself for that, too? I might not have known you very long, Obi-Wan Kenobi, but I know for a fact that if there was anything you could have done to prevent that battle, anything you have done to save him, you would have." She leaned closer and looked into my eyes. "And I don't want you blaming yourself for this, all right? It wasn't your fault." She grinned. "This, though, might be." And she reached forward, set her hand on the back of my head, and kissed me.
Once more I was frozen in place with utter shock. I had truthfully never kissed anyone like this before. Not that I wanted her to know that, of course. Well, I had kissed Siri once before, but that had been brief, chaste, barely a kiss at all. This was . . . not. Shian was aggressive and warm and—and all thought fled my mind as she moved closer, and before I knew what I was doing, I was kissing back.
It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The Jedi are not a chaste order, but I had never felt right giving or receiving physical pleasure when I knew I could offer nothing beyond that, when my soul was devoted to the Jedi. But now things felt—different—and I suddenly wanted to participate quite a bit.
Somehow her mouth had gotten open, and so had mine, and she was doing something with her tongue—it struck me that she was very, very good at this, and I felt a brief surge of—could that be jealousy?—toward her Jedi Padawan—
And then I stopped thinking altogether.
We pulled apart when we both needed to breathe. That tongue thing is amazing, I thought dazedly, only realizing I had said it out loud when Shian giggled and leaned forward to kiss my cheek above my beard. "No," she said. "You're amazing, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi."
I could feel myself flushing. "I—" I started. "Did I—I shouldn't—"
Shian shook her head. "Just think about it, Obi-Wan, all right? One kiss doesn't mean you have to decide anything." She grinned again. "No matter how impressive that kiss might be." She sighed and brushed her hair back out of her face. "I suppose I should get moving. I have to make sure Skywalker's prepped for surgery . . . and all that."
I was still trying to scrape my thoughts back together into some semblance of a coherent order. "I—I'll go with you," I managed to say. "I should check on Anakin."
"All right," Shian said. She held out her hand. "Shall we go, then?"
I took her hand and got to my feet.
For the first time we had come to Elanna, Anakin reacted immediately when I entered his room, rolling onto his side and twisting around to look over at me. I knew that meant he could feel me through the Force, and I felt almost weak with relief at the same time concern twisted my heart. If he could feel me, that would mean that Sidious would be able to feel him as well—but somehow that seemed unimportant for a moment in the face of seeing Anakin react normally to a visitor. A faint smile touched his lips. "Master," he said, his voice still soft and a little raspy.
"Hello, Anakin," I said. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he said without much conviction. His response seemed vague and offhand, as if he didn't really care, and that worried me.
Shian stepped into the room behind me, and Anakin's eyes flickered toward her and started to slide away—then he pushed himself up on one elbow and looked closer at her, then back at me. His eyes widened, and a real smile started to spread across his features, a bright, happy grin as I hadn't seen since . . . when? The mission to rescue Chancellor Palpatine? Perhaps Naos III? I could feel my cheeks heat up, uncertain of what, exactly, he was looking at.
"I can' believe it," he said, and even his voice sounded stronger. There was a sparkle in his eyes, cutting through the murky gloom that had enshrouded them ever since they had changed back to their normal blue, a sparkle I hadn't been certain I'd ever see there again. "Master . . . d'you know you're blushing?"
"I—" I started, then realized I had no idea what I was going to say. "I'll thank you to keep yourself out of things that don't concern you, Anakin," I said, rather stiffly.
He glanced back at Shian, not fazed in the least. "You're blushing, too," he said in a tone of wonder. "I really can't believe it." His gaze swung back to me. "You actually did something, didn' you, Master?"
"Ah—pardon?" I asked sharply.
Anakin's grin widened. "Vape me, you did. You kissed her, didn' you, Obi-Wan?" His smile turned sly and teasing. "You can admit it t' me, Master; I won' tell anyone . . . ."
"Anakin!" I snapped, shocked by his words.
And he laughed. He actually laughed, a low, halting chuckle, the sound so surprising and welcome that it actually brought tears to my eyes. "I can't believe 't," he repeated.
Act normally, Kenobi; you tearing up over laughter is not going to help Anakin become stable again. I sighed. "I don't know if I should be insulted or merely annoyed," I managed in a close approximation of my normal tone. "Shian, ignore the young one."
Anakin's eyes widened further. "Her first name, even! I'm shocked!"
"I'd appreciate a bit more discretion on your part, Anakin," I said grumpily.
He laughed again and lay back down on the medical bed. "All right, Master," he said. "All right." He sighed and glanced back toward Shian. "What now?"
I moved toward him and started to give him an answer, but right at that moment the door to the room slid open behind us. All three of us turned toward it, and I was surprised to see Master Yoda come through it, followed by Padmé. She was dressed again, in the action outfit she'd been wearing when she went after Anakin. I could see Anakin wince and look away on the edge of my vision.
"Padmé?" I said in surprise.
"Master Yoda came to me and told me we—I—should leave today," Padmé said. She took a deep breath. "I—I had to come say goodbye." She shook her head. "I don't think this is a good idea."
"No," Anakin said loudly, and I turned back to look at him. "Please go, Padmé. Please. I—don't want anything to happen to you." I could see him swallow hard. "And—and I'm scared. I—I just don't want you to get hurt. You'll be safer away—away from me." I stared at him, shocked by hearing Anakin, of all people, the Hero With No Fear, no matter how inaccurate I knew that moniker to be sometimes, admitting something like that.
"A premonition, I have had," Yoda said. "Right, young Skywalker is. Away from here, Padmé and the children must go. Safe, they must be kept."
Anakin stared at him for a long moment, then glanced up at Padmé. Children? he mouthed silently.
"Yes—I didn't tell you." Padmé smiled sadly. "It looks like I'm having twins."
Anakin looked up at her for another long moment, then smiled shakily. "You keep surprising me," he said in a trembling voice. "I guess—I guess we could both be right, then."
"They could both be boys," Padmé returned quickly, with a touch of asperity.
Anakin chuckled and shook his head. "They could both be girls, too," he returned, then his gaze sobered. "Be careful," he said. "Please." He looked toward Master Yoda, and I could see his throat constrict with another hard swallow. "I beg of you, Master," he said softly. "Take care of her for me."
"Take care of her, I will," Yoda replied with surprising gentleness. "Swear this, I do. Safe she will be, young one."
Anakin nodded and took a deep breath. "Thank you," he whispered.
"Oh," Padmé said. She ran forward and hugged him tightly around the shoulders. "Oh, Anakin. I love you, do you hear me? I love you."
He tilted his head back and brushed a soft kiss against her lips. "I love you too, angel," he whispered.
"If I don't see you in a week, you're going to regret it," Padmé said warningly, stroking her hand through his hair.
"A week," Anakin replied immediately, though his voice wavered on the second word. "I—I promise."
"I'll hold you to that," she said, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "May the Force be with you, my love."
"You too," he replied, his one arm squeezing tight around her waist for one moment as he buried his face in her shoulder, then he simply let go of her. "Now go," he said, with a slight push. "Go, all right?"
Padmé nodded and backed away. "I'll be fine," she said. "Master Yoda will take care of me, and Artoo and Threepio will be there. I'll be well-protected."
"Tell them hello from me," Anakin said, his voice tight with control. "I'll see you in a week."
Padmé nodded. "In a week," she repeated, and fled the room.
Anakin collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes. I moved toward him and laid one hand on the unbandaged part of his shoulder, trying to offer him what comfort and support I could when I knew he had to be in agony to part with her all over again. "It will be all right," I said quietly.
Anakin sighed, and his body relaxed, though his eyes remained closed. "Thanks, Master," he whispered.
"Healer Risto," came Yoda's scratchy voice, and I immediately looked up. "Ready are you?"
"Yes," she said. "Almost; I just have to get Skywalker prepped for surgery; the med droids can do the rest."
"Ready?" I repeated quickly. "Ready for what?"
Shian looked toward me, and her eyes were sad. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," she said. "I shouldn't have done this to you. I—I've decided to accompany Padmé and Master Yoda. It'll be forfeiting my job, but I don't think I want to work for an Empire anyway, and I'm tired of this place. They'll need me. I've set it up so that as soon as Anakin's surgery is over he's cleared to leave so that you can get off-planet as soon as possible. I—" she sighed. "I want to do as much as I can to help you, Obi-Wan," she said, then shook her head. "Oh, Sith it," she said, "I'm no good at things like this," and leapt forward to fling her arms around me and press her lips to mine in a fervent kiss.
I could vaguely hear Anakin choke and Yoda make a noncommittal noise in the background, but I discovered that I didn't really care.
Shian pulled away after a moment. "Remember that," she said fiercely. "I'm going to be seeing you again in a week, right? If Padmé's boy-toy over there shows up without you I'm going to hunt you down and—"
"What?" Anakin's voice sounded strangled. "Padmé's what?"
I smiled and shook my head. "I will be there," I said. "And be careful. Though I have no doubt that you will be safer than we will."
"I will," Shian said. "You too, Obi-Wan." She reached up and touched my cheek. "May the Force be with you, Jedi."
"And with you," I replied, and kissed her softly on the forehead, hardly believing my audacity. For a moment, I thought I could hear Qui-Gon's voice in my head, I have no compunctions about saying I told you so. Good job, Padawan. I wasn't sure if I had imagined it or not, but it certainly sounded like something my former master would say.
Shian smiled and let go of me, stepping out of my arms.
Master Yoda cleared his throat, and I glanced over him, embarrassment rushing in all at once. "Master," I said quickly. "I—ah—I—"
"No need to explain, Obi-Wan," he said. "Pleased I am to see this."
I felt as if I had gone as limp as a Mon Calamarian moon-jelly with relief. Whatever he had said earlier about attachment, I had expected him to disapprove. "Thank you, Master," I said.
He gave an impish grin. "Thank me, you should not," he said. "Healer Risto, meet you at the ship I will. There is someone who wishes to speak with young Skywalker, and you, Obi-Wan. Waiting outside, he is."
"Wh-who is it?" Anakin's voice was hesitant and fearful, and my heart wrenched to hear that tone in his voice.
"Need for fear, you have not," Yoda said, and hobbled from the room without answering the question. Shian shrugged when I looked at her and moved to the console by Anakin's bed to begin doing something incomprehensible with it.
A moment later, Onasi stepped into the room. Anakin tensed, his eyes going wide with fear. "You," he breathed. "You—you stay away from me!" I could hear anger, hot and tight, under his voice. "You come near me and I—I'll—"
I laid a hand on his shoulder again. "Easy, Anakin," I murmured. "He's not here to hurt you." I squeezed his shoulder a bit. "Even if he were, he'd have to go through me."
Anakin took a deep, shuddering breath. "A-all right," he said. "I—I trust you." His eyes flicked toward Onasi again. "But I don't trust you," he breathed, and there was a dark cloak of menace in his soft voice.
Onasi looked spectacularly uncomfortable. "I—don't—doubt that," he said haltingly. "I—" he glanced over at me and swallowed. knew the look on my face was unyielding and hard and was pleased by how intimidated he looked. His shoulders straightened even more until he was standing locked in what appeared to be a parade-ground pose of attention. "I owe you an apology, Skywalker," he said very quickly.
"I—" Anakin stared. "Wh-what?" he faltered.
Onasi took a deep breath. "An apology," he repeated as if the words were being yanked out of him by a gundark. "I—should not have—treated you the way I did. It was—cruel of me. What I did to you was—wrong."
"Huh." I looked over at Shian to see her looking over at Onasi rather speculatively. "That's more than I expected from you, Commander," she said. "You should be ashamed of yourself for what you did to him, but apologizing is a good first step."
"I—" Onasi didn't seem to know how to react. "Thank you," he said jerkily, his tone extremely formal.
I noticed that I was overly glad that she still didn't seem too pleased with him, and wondered at myself.
Anakin sighed and closed his eyes. "Fine," he said. "Just—just, if you're really sorry—will you do me a favor?"
I looked at him in surprise. Onasi seemed shocked, too. "Ah—what?" he asked, nearly stammering.
"Don't ever touch me again," Anakin whispered. "Don't even come near me. Just—don't."
Onasi snapped up to attention again. "Yes, sir," he said. I was half-expecting him to salute, but he must have realized how ridiculous it would have looked when Anakin wasn't even looking at him, and refrained. After a moment, he glanced over at me. "I will be remaining here until you are prepared to go," he said. "My ship is ready to take off as soon as you are."
"Very well, Commander," I said. "I will speak to you later."
He nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir," he said, and did salute this time before leaving the room as quickly as he could without losing his dignity entirely.
"Well," Shian said, and looked up at over at me. Her eyes lingered on me for a long moment, and she swallowed hard. My eyes seemed to have the same tendency to linger on her. "Well, I guess we'd better get this started," she said.
And I nodded.
