PROLOGUE
31 BBY
one year before the Battle of Naboo
ALDERAAN WAS AT WAR.
No, that wasn't quite correct. It was something much more complicated than two opposing factions trying to gain something they both thought belonged to them. Bail had told her it was something regarding the line of ascendancy.
Not just for the future Queen but for the Viceroy position as well. Apparently her claim had been challenged. That was to be expected, every daughter of a royal house was given the opportunity to claim the throne once they turned eighteen.
Whether or not they did was up to them.
Breha Antilles, Elara Ulgo, Cara Thul. All of age to claim the throne, all being taken into consideration.
Bryn Organa was just the latest in a long line.
She fully expected for her claim to be contested, after all, she didn't take the responsibility of leading the planet lightly. Her mother had instilled those values in her and Bail since before they could walk.
Queen Mazicia Organa was not one to shrink from her responsibility, either as a Queen or a mother. But the death of her consort coinciding with the eighteenth birthday of her eldest daughter was almost too perfect.
So Bryn had been pushed to make her claim before it was too late.
And then she'd woken up to a servant dressed in Antilles colors holding a viroblade over her chest and a blaster hole in their own.
Captain Tarrik hurried her out of the room, where her mother waited with silent fury, dragging the body of the assassin alongside her daughter to the Council, showcasing exactly why the Organa family needed to be worried about making their claim to the throne.
Senator Davik Antilles had thrown a fit, refusing to entertain negotiations with the former Queen of Alderaan, and when Bail had caught wind of the attempt, the possibility of resolving things peacefully nearly flew out the window.
And then the Jedi Council had gotten involved. Two Masters and an apprentice had shown up at the behest of her mother's former councilor and suddenly the negotiations were back on the table.
The crackling of the fire brought her back to reality, as did the sudden movement of a cloak against the forest floor.
Her Jedi protectors, Bail had called them. Their mother had been the one to insist on them really, stating that she refused to negotiate a possible outcome with the Antilles family unless her daughter was given proper protection.
And thus Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan Obi Wan Kenobi had shown up on the space port in their tan robes and brown cloaks, lightsabers at their side and ready to help.
The Padawan sat in front of her now, hair gathered up in a small tail at the nape of his neck, a long braid decorated with colorful beads dangling behind his right ear. He pulled on it from time to time, twirling it around his fingers and tugging.
He was doing it now.
"What do they mean?" Her voice was hoarse, caught in her throat after refusing to use it all day. But the Padawan's eyes flickered up to meet hers, and Bryn was struck by how clear the color of his irises were.
Pale blue like an afternoon sky but swirling with something dark underneath.
"They symbolize the skills I have learned throughout my training," He explained nonchalantly, carelessly poking at the fire with a stick, moving the embers around without so much as burning his sleeve. "Blue means mechanics, red means piloting, yellow means combat," His gaze moved back down to the blazing fire and Bryn pulled her cloak tighter around her arms, trying to shield herself from the chilly mountain air, goosebumps already starting to form on her skin.
"What does green mean?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, but clearly they seemed to have some effect on the Padawan. He stopped and sat back from his crouched position, staring into the flames as if they held some sort of answer he'd been denied.
"It means the study of the living force, something my Master has tried to get me to understand many times."
She recognized the tone in his voice. The way he spoke through near gritted teeth and behind a calmness that hid his worst impulses. Her brother was similar when speaking to their mother about her many expectations for them. "You don't hold the same beliefs as your Master then?"
His gaze met hers once again, that cerulean blue meeting deep pools of brown, "What do you know of the Force?"
Bryn shrugged. Not much truly. She wasn't taught the ways of a Jedi, although she remembers being younger and seeing one–a Korun if she remembered correctly–in their living apartments on her fourth birthday. "I know it's beyond our understanding," She spoke softly, adjusting her position on the rock she was sitting on, "And I know that Jedi can access it in a way others can't or won't. It's powerful and unusual and it makes things float–"
She was cut off by a loud chuckle from the man opposite her, his ginger hair glowing in the firelight, the flames illuminating a smattering of freckles dotting his face.
Her stomach curled at his laughter.
"What?"
"Oh it does much more than make things float, Your Highness." The small smirk on his face made her huff and she crossed her arms.
A beat of silence passed between the two and when it became clear that Obi-Wan Kenobi would no longer engage with her on the topic, she simply did what she always did. Especially when it came to politicians or elder members of the Houses who refused to take her seriously.
She pushed.
"So explain it to me then." Her request was quite simple, she thought. After all, who better to explain this mysterious entity that supposedly surrounded all living creatures than a man who was currently being taught by the people who wielded it?
Students made the best teachers, in her opinion, and her lips twitched upward slightly as an incredulous look crossed the Jedi Padawan's face.
He scoffed, and she brushed it off like she always did with men who scoffed at her, "The Force isn't something that can be explained," Kenobi shook his head moving from poking the embers of the fire to fiddling with his lightsaber, still refusing to meet her gaze except in small moments. "Would you ask me to explain the sky or the way we breathe?"
"Yes," Bryn shrugged, her chest leaping at the shocked expression passing over Kenobi's face with each passing word. Oh, she liked seeing him riled up. "In fact it's one of the many things children are taught when they're younger. How the skies work, how breathing works, so tell me Kenobi–" The use of his last name halted his actions and his eyes flew up to meet hers. Bryn arched an eyebrow in a challenge, "How does the Force work?"
Kenobi sighed, shoulders slumping as he cast a look behind him. His Master was currently sleeping in the tent they'd set up, having taken turns watching over her every night.
Tonight was Kenobi's and she was certain he believed he was paying for it. Bryn had to admit, bothering the Padawan with her questions was infinitely more fun than listening to his Master prattle on about the various flora and fauna on her own planet.
Besides, she was nothing if not curious, a trait which had gotten her into trouble in the past, even if Bail was willing to overlook her transgressions.
Oh, she hoped the outcome of this whole succession issue would be him as Viceroy, at least then she'd be able to get away with more.
But right now her gaze was trained on the brown robed jedi before her and the creases in his forehead.
"My master could tell you more than I could," Kenobi admitted, going out of his way to avoid answering her questions.
Bryn scooted closer to the Jedi, drawing their faces closer together, "In case you hadn't noticed, your Master is asleep."
Kenobi chuckled slightly at her rather obvious observation, his mouth twitching into a smile, "Yes, I suppose he is."
Their shoulders were nearly touching, Bryn's black cloak flapping in the mountain wind as she remained fixated on the man beside her. He radiated warmth, even if his general demeanor was rather closed off and cynical.
Jedi were always hiding something, she knew, but her endless curiosity got the better of her once again. She wished to know what lay behind those brilliant eyes of his, the sunken bags that seemed to line his face along with his creases.
What was Obi-Wan Kenobi hiding?
"The Force is an energy field," He finally spoke through the silence, splaying her palm out until it faced the sky, his much larger hand cupping hers, "It exists in all living things, connects us, binds us. It gives a Jedi his power, yes, but there is so much more."
His finger pressed down on her pulse point, "It's millions of heartbeats scattered across the galaxy, all coming together into one Unifying Force." Kenobi dropped her hand, which now felt cold. "That is what I focus on," his expression turned serious, "My Master, however, is a student of the Living Force, which focuses on the individual, on nature. On connecting to the Force through lifeforms and the present moment."
"And what does the Unifying Force focus on?"
Kenobi pursed his lips together for a brief moment before meeting her gaze again, "The connections between those lifeforms and how they impact the future. Or so Master Yoda tells me, and he trusts in the Unifying Force more than anyone else I know."
Bryn dipped her gaze to her dropped hand, clenching her wrist and lifting it up to parallel her face. Her fingers flexed back and forth.
She wondered what she would've been if she'd become a Jedi. Sometimes she could feel exactly what Kenobi described.
The heartbeats of those around her, the endless chatter and noise of the world growing too loud as they connected to one another.
Her mother always dismissed it as her hypersensitivity. "You always were a sensitive child," she'd say, and that was the end of the discussion.
That didn't stop the endless parade of tutors and trainers her mother had hired. Many spoke the way Kenobi did now. In endless riddles and vague truths, too vague to be understood by a child trying to put together the pieces of her life.
Her father had been more understanding, letting her channel that energy through endless combat sessions, ensuring his eldest daughter was well prepared for the trials that awaited her when she made her claim as Queen.
Still, her gaze drifted toward the Jedi beside her, she couldn't help but wonder if something else was behind that decision.
"How do you know if someone's a Jedi?"
Kenobi's brow furrowed at the question. Surely it wasn't that uncommon? She had to believe he'd been asked this many times over. Surely the galaxy didn't just accept that the Jedi took children from their families without an explanation of their methods?
"We have Jedi Scouts," He admitted, elbows leaning on his knees, "Those whose job it is to seek out other Force Sensitives in the galaxy and alert the council. The force exists in all living things, so it's their job to determine if they truly are connected to the force the way we are."
Bryn couldn't help but scoff at the relaxed method he just explained to her, "And you take them at their word? You trust them that much?"
Kenobi's gaze hardened, "I trust the Council," he admitted with a sharpness that hadn't been there before, "And they always follow up with the Scout's findings."
"And so that's it? One word from a random stranger and suddenly a child is whisked away from their home? Their family? For what? To serve some greater force that no one knows anything about?"
"It is a great honor to be chosen as a Jedi, not to mention the families are given a choice–"
"Ah yes, the illusion of choice." Bryn sneered, trying and failing to keep her emotions in check. The anger bubbled in her stomach, and even she wasn't sure why this idea was bothering so much, "Because why would a family say no to the 'Great Jedi Order'?"
Kenobi's brow furrowed further, shaking his head at her erratic behavior, "I do not understand, I thought–"
"They can never go home!" Her voice rang through the clearing and she realized that at one point during the argument she had stood up. The fire roared at her words before dimming back to the tiny flames she'd been sitting by for most of the night.
A strong wind flew through the trees before dissipating into the air, Kenobi staring up at her with wide eyes.
Her chest heaved up and down, panting from the quickening breaths that had wracked her body.
"I'm sorry, I don't–"
Kenobi didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her as she sat back down beside him. She twiddled with her thumbs, tracing the lines of her palms before leaning her head on the shoulder of the Jedi beside her.
He stiffened, but she didn't move.
"I want to go home, Obi-Wan," Bryn admitted. She hated staying out here, hiding from those who wanted to hurt her. She wanted to sleep in her own bed again, to see her brother and sister and help them put together old ships in the port. To practice her combat training and wander around the courtyards.
She wanted to hear the endless noise of starships and speeders above her, to fall asleep to it. It was too quiet out here. "I know this is for my safety, but I want to go home."
A beat passed between them, followed by a brief moment of silence.
Bryn adjusted her position so her gaze met Kenobi's, "Do you think I ever will?"
His gaze softened and his shoulders relaxed for a brief moment, but he still remained stiff, "I don't know, Princess, I hope so."
She shifted her gaze back to the fire, but her head remained on Kenobi's shoulder. She'd gone months without any sort of touch or hug or so much as a reassuring look. This was the closest she had to comfort, even if it was in the arms of a man she'd been arguing with prior.
"Do you miss your home?"
Her question seemed to fall on deaf ears, but it was clear from the way he tensed up that Kenobi had heard her. "Do you even remember it?"
"Yes."
His answer was swift and curt. "I remember it. But I don't think I miss it. When I think of home, I think of the Jedi temple, of my crechemates and my teachers." There was a wistfulness to his voice that Bryn hadn't heard before. As if he were recalling fond memories with siblings, "I know where I came from, I know I had a mother, a father, perhaps a brother," his brows creased, as if straining to recall the memories he was explaining to her, "But that's not home to me. It never has been."
Bryn's chest panged.
How sad it was truly, to know you had another life you left behind but to have no memory of it. She tried to imagine her life without her brother by her side, without her younger sister butting in at every corner and inopportune moment. Her lips twitched slightly. She couldn't imagine it.
It was painful enough to know that her father was never coming back, but to live with the knowledge that the life she had here could've all been taken away and been nothing but a memory if she had been whisked away to be a Jedi...
That seemed that a specific kind of torture.
She wondered how Obi-Wan lived with it.
"Tell me about them," Bryn requested, relishing the surprise on the Padawan's face once more, "Your fellow padawans and your teachers and...your home."
To her surprise, he gave into her request. Starting with a story about his friends Quinlan Vos and Siri Tachi and how they'd managed to convince him to skip meditation training for several days straight to explore the roofs of the Jedi temple.
He then moved on to his first time in a combat arena, facing off against his rivals in the hopes of impressing a Jedi Master.
Obi-Wan's voice soothed her, and she listened intently until she couldn't anymore, letting the wave of exhaustion wash over her, lulling her to sleep as he continued to speak about the temple with the same fondness she used to speak about Aldera.
Perhaps she was wrong.
Perhaps the Jedi were just like her and Bail. A family, to the bitter end.
By the time Obi-Wan was finished, she was fast asleep on his shoulder, the Jedi's mouth twitching upward into a small smile at the Princess beside him.
A few weeks later the Ascendancy issues had been cleared, with Bail Organa winning the claim to the Viceroyship and Breha Antilles being granted the title of Queen.
With the caveat that a marriage would be arranged between the two of them as quickly as possible.
Bryn knew that wouldn't be an issue. Bail had been in love with Breha since they were little and she first joined Bryn for tutoring lessons on politics.
He'd even been planning on courting her once she came of age, somehow worried that their two year age gap would be enough to deter Breha from saying yes to him. Not that Bryn was ever worried, she'd heard enough about Breha's crush on her brother to make her gag, but still, she thought it was rather sweet.
But then Breha underwent the trials, injuring herself and requiring a lung replacement which placed her in the medical wing for cycles on end and the wedding was postponed.
And suddenly Alderaan broke into chaos again, Bryn's mother demanding she recontest her claim, especially in the wake of Breha's cousin marrying Cara Thul.
Oh yes, Alderaan was a mess yet again and according to her mother it was Bryn's fault.
"You should've fought harder for your claim."
But Bryn refused to listen to that rhetoric. The relief she'd felt when Breha had been granted the title kept her from sinking too far into her own guilt.
Her friend needed her. She moved toward her brother–who stood in constant worry outside the medical chamber–and gently wrapped her arm around her brother's.
They stared at the unconscious form of Breha Antilles, struggling to breathe as the medical droids moved back and forth to find suitable replacements, and Bryn made a solemn vow to herself.
She would help out the future Queen, whatever it took.
She owed her that much at least.