Chapter 32: Whispers

Padmé Amidala paced restlessly back and forth across the conference room. All the other Senators had quietly taken their seats, nervously talking with each other or fiddling with themselves to seem presentable. This particular conference was not an easy one to arrange, and when Chancellor Palpatine had finally solidified it, the Senate broke into all its conflicting factions, quickly beginning to debate and vote on who would be representing their interests before the Negotiator.

Padmé had been the easy choice for the growing peace movement. After all, she had spoken to the Negotiator before, and had come back with a peace proposal and a cease-fire. The proposal, of course, had been debated without end in the Senate, though the terms had been both fair and agreeable. Nobody could seem to find a common ground on anything these days. However, after the Battle of Christophsis, a great many Senators who had been undecided on their position had flocked to Padmé's peace initiative. The battle ended in victory, yes, but thousands had died, both clones and citizens of Christophsis in equal measure. The Separatists had managed to successfully jam communications for a while, and by the time the Senate had reestablished communication with the Generals on Christophsis, the battle was nearly won.

Dooku had decried the battle an invasion, the brutal Republic flying in to take a Separatist world unprovoked, which was immediately discounted as Confederate propaganda, until the Separatist Council had managed to produce physical proof, the Articles of Succession signed by the leaders of Christophsis just days before the battle began. Bail Organa had taken the fall for it, seeing as it was the Alderaan Prince that had called the Republic to the planet, crying hostile invasion. Padmé immediately knew something was wrong. The rash, aggressive move was uncharacteristic of the patient, thoughtful Bail, and though he maintained his position in the Senate based solely on his nobility, upon his return, he had immediately set about to find a replacement.

Odder still, when Senator Amidala had sat down to discuss what had happened, Organa couldn't seem to remember. The man's eyes were distant, his memory hazy, and several times, he had to shut his eyes, grimacing as if he were in pain when he tried to remember what had happened. The entire thing seemed foul to Padmé, and as she watched the man that had been like a brother to her fall apart, she couldn't help but be reminded of the conversation she once had with Obi-Wan Kenobi over ten years ago. About the Jedi, about the Force, and about the power to change, to influence the way a person thought.

That's a dangerous power in the wrong hands.

He had agreed with her then. And on Mandalore recently, she had even asked him if he had the power to control her. He did answer, but it was noncommital and vague, and he quickly changed the subject, and Padmé had the sinking feeling that Obi-Wan's were the wrong hands. Something had happened to Bail Organa, and the young Naboo Senator had the feeling that it was the Negotiator. Her Obi-Wan...

She stopped and shook her head, trying to clear it of the image of her former protector, but she found herself unable. All she could see was his handsome face, his intelligent eyes, and she could hear him, that smooth, accented Coruscanti drawl, whispering to her softly, and her breath hitched as she remembered the last words he had said to her on Mandalore. She grabbed the back of her seat, biting her lip and eyes shut tightly as she struggled to slow her racing pulse, her excited breath, the warmth that swelled from deep within her and spread throughout her body, wrapping her in a pleasured haze. Obi-Wan had done something to her. She knew he did. He had said before that he would never control her, implying that he could, but he had been in the containment field. Still, she had believed him. Despite what the Jedi had said, Obi-Wan was very much the man she remembered. He was eloquent, diplomatic, reasonable, and over the course of the meeting, she had found herself slipping back into her old infatuation with the cunning former Jedi, and all on her own accord. After all, the Force held no power in that room.

Things had changed when he was released, though Padmé was inclined to blame Anakin's poor temper for the subsequent explosion. She saw a different side of Kenobi, then, one that was fearsomely powerful and standing on a thin, knife-edge of control, liable to slip at any time were his footing not so sure. Anakin had nudged him, and Obi-Wan had tumbled over the edge in a stunning display of raw power that even the non-Force sensitive Padmé could feel in the air, but he was quick to regain composure, steadying himself and apologizing for being drawn into conflict by what amounted to a wrathful, jealous child. And then he had bid her goodbye, whispering three words in her ear that set her mind ablaze with a singular focus.

I want you.

He had only said it once, but to Padmé, it echoed within her, over and over again until she thought she could bear it no longer. The former Jedi must have used the Force, must have influenced her, changed her way of thinking, despite having told her that he would never do such. And yet, her feverish mind couldn't find a way to doubt him. She had always desired Obi-Wan...hadn't she? It was true that she and Anakin had grown close, their rekindled friendship quickly turning into something that may have been more, something that she secretly hoped may be more someday, and on Geonosis, in the face of death, they had come out from hiding and expressed their attraction for each other.

She didn't see much of Anakin after that, but she remembered it fondly, and greatly looked forward to seeing him again. The nature of their friendship needed to be discussed, especially in light of the war and their diverging paths. A Jedi wasn't allowed to form attachments, she knew that. He knew that, but they still had blazed ahead. And for her part...it would certainly hurt her standing within the Senate if it was found out that she was involved with one of the war's commanders, even as she argued for peace.

And then there was Mandalore. After that, every time she thought of Anakin, her thoughts would turn to Obi-Wan, and while her brief thoughts of Skywalker were sweet and innocent, they were nearly immediately replaced by an uncontrollably heedless, nearly violent lust for the former Jedi Knight, and it wasn't just then. During the day, a single word, a stray thought, the simple way something was said was enough to drive Kenobi through her mind as easy as a lightsaber cut through thin metal. At night, she would wake up in a sweat, her heard pounding, her blood rushing as a frantic, desperate lust consumed her and left her wanting and needy. She could barely stand to think of it at all, lest she be crippled by urges she thought herself above. He had to have done something to her. He had to. Even if she didn't believe it, even if a voice deep inside her told her that this was the only thing she had wanted.

"Padmé?" Bail had asked softly, his hand on her thin arm, and her dark eyes shot to the concerned man. Palpatine had requested his presence, despite his apparent fault in the breaking of the cease-fire. An apology was in order, and perhaps the distraught Prince could get the explanation he needed. "You don't look well."

She smiled tightly and lowered herself into her seat next to him. "Nervous, I suppose."

Organa bit his lip, looking away from the woman. There was something he should have remembered, but like everything else, it was hazy. "You have no cause to be nervous. You worked out a deal with him before. You can do it again."

"I was alone before. Now..." She sighed, looking around the table at the other Senators. "There are a lot of people here who have no desire to come to terms at all."

"I know. But the Negotiator earned that name. Perhaps we can come to an agreement still."

She nodded, smiling at the older man, the holoprojector in the center of the conference room flickering to life, and moments later, the holographic visage of the Negotiator appeared before them, the cordiality of his previous contact dropped and replaced by cold caution. He slightly inclined his head. "Senators..." Eyes narrowed as he regarded Palpatine, carefully examining him as he took stock of the Republic's leader. "Chancellor..."

"Thank you for meeting with us, Master Kenobi," Palpatine said softly, his voice a thin, kindly rasp, and the Negotiator crossed his arms. Everyone knew the Negotiator's identity now, the name going down in infamy within Republic space, and hologram was making it clear that he didn't liked being called by name by Chancellor Palpatine.

"I hope you're not going to waste my time," Obi-Wan said harshly. "I have a war to attend to, thanks to you." Several of the Senators began to protest, their voices rising to challenge him, and those sharp eyes narrowed, his mouth curling up in a vicious sneer. "Silence!" he hissed, and to everyone's surprise, the Senators obeyed, and Padmé felt a sinking pit in her stomach. Nobody could stop the Senators from arguing. Was it possible that Obi-Wan could exert his influence without being in the room? She'd have to consult the Jedi on this matter.

"We were hoping to discuss what happened on Christophsis," Palpatine began, but Kenobi held up a dismissive hand, and the matter was immediately dropped.

"There is nothing to discuss. We had a deal, Chancellor, and your Jedi and your clones were called to my world to free it! Free it from what, Chancellor! Can the people of Christophsis not make their own decisions? Does the Republic stand for freedom from free will?" He scoffed. "I suppose you must, seeing as how you are using a slave army."

Padmé could take it no longer, and the other Senators simply sat there, which she supposed was for the best. She slammed her hands upon the table and stood fro her seat, sharping calling, "Obi-Wan!"

The calculating eyes scanned the room until they fell on the Naboo Senator, and his harsh features softened. "Padmé. So good to see you again. You must be disappointed by this, surely."

"I am. This shouldn't have happened, this was a mistake."

"I agree."

She took a deep breath. That was good. "Listen, we talked to Senator Organa at length, he-"

"He called the Republic down on us." Kenobi crossed his arms. "He was there when the Articles of Secession were signed, Padmé." This time, the room began to buzz with quiet, confused chatter. They hadn't heard about this. Bail Organa couldn't remember it. She looked to the man next to her when he whimpered, soft and pitiful, grasping his head and eyes shut tight against pain. Something was wrong. Despite the quiet voice in her mind and against the warmth in her stomach that she felt when she looked upon him, Padmé's eyes narrowed at the Negotiator. Bail was her brother in all things but name. She would not allow this former Jedi to ruin him.

"We didn't hear about that." Her temper flared when his eyes widened in shock, but his mouth parted in a faint, amused smile. "And it's not that he's hiding something, he doesn't remember."

"Well, the battlefield is a stressful place, especially for someone as pampered as a royal." He spread his arms and shrugged. "I suppose the stress of battle was too much for him."

"No, it wasn't." She pointed at the hologram. "You say he was there with you when it was signed? You did something to him."

Silence hung over the room before the Negotiator's features broke into a wide smile, and he began laughing, rich and melodic and completely out of control. Palpatine leaned over to his fellow Naboo, his voice a hushed, nervous whisper. "Padmé, what are you doing? We wanted to try for peace, this isn't helping..."

She didn't answer. She didn't even look at him. Senator Amidala just glared at the hologram as he chortled, "You are joking, right?"

"You can use the Force, Obi-Wan, and the Jedi say you're Sith."

Kenobi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in irritation. "Oh, please, Padmé, don't be foolish. The Sith have been gone for a thousand years. Just because I'm not a Jedi anymore doesn't mean I'm Sith." He laughed amicably. "I just...wanted things that being with the Jedi wouldn't allow me."

"Like what."

He smiled ever so gently, his voice lowering to a soft, smooth purr. "Like love, Padmé."

Her breath and her voice and her heart all caught in her throat, and her head swimming as the intensity of his gaze seemed to pierce right through her. The soft drawl of his voice was all she could hear, and she had to bite her lip against the warmth that spread through her, close her eyes to get him out of her sight. He had to be doing something, he had to...but she could no longer find it within herself to say so. This came from deep inside her, and while he was aggravating her feelings, the emotions were hers. Bail covered her hand with his when he saw her distress, and while it was a comfort, giving her strength when she felt she had none, it did nothing to stop the pooling desire within her.

Kenobi smirked as he watched Senator Amidala's anger fade. His sharp eyes turned on Palpatine. "Your Jedi are doing exactly what your Republic is doing. I disagreed with them and I left, and now they seek to vilify me, even though I am the only one truly advocating for peace. They are just as corrupt as your Senate!"

"Master Kenobi, we can work this out," the Chancellor pleaded, his face gentle and placating, and the Negotiator simply shook his head.

"We could before. But now, the Republic has shown its true colors. If we meet again, I fear for my own safety. You may come under the banner of peace, but what's to keep you from arresting me, hmm? You just took Christophsis, after all."

"I give you my word, we-"

Obi-Wan scoffed, waiving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Your word means nothing. I am, as ever, committed to peace, but you are committed to war, and duty obligates me to fight against the tyranny of the Republic. After all, look what you did with our last peace proposal. You argued over it for days, and then you attacked us instead of coming to consensus. Negotiations require both parties to talk, and you have no spokesman. Just a mire of inefficiency."

"The Senate has granted me emergency powers for this purpose."

"What," Kenobi drawled, "so you can send Republic ships to Separatist worlds without Senate approval? So you're to blame for Christophsis?" Kenobi growled. "I'll have no dealings with you, Chancellor Palpatine."

"Obi-Wan," Padmé said softly, shaking slightly, but she was in control again. "We found peace before, we can find it again."

"I don't know, you were very hostile to me earlier."

"And...I apologize for that," she said softly, looking ashamed of herself. She was ashamed. She had no right to take out her emotional upheaval on the cause of her confusion. "Please, let's begin again. We can meet on Mandalore again, we-"

"No." The answer left no room for argument. "I can't make them listen to a peace proposal again, the Confederate Senate is calling for vengeance for what you did to Christophsis. Even your friend, Senator Bonteri, is calling for war."

"...you know Mina Bonteri?" Padmé could feel her chest tighten when the man nodded.

"I make a point to know the government I serve. I was there on Raxus when they voted on how to respond to your atrocity. It didn't speak well for peace."

"...we can fix this, it was a misunderstanding."

Kenobi shook his head. "Once is a misunderstanding. But twice? That's a pattern."

"That's one misunderstanding for each of us." She smiled softly when the hologram flickered slightly, the man drawing up tall and seeming to hold his breath. Finally, he nodded.

"Fine. We'll try once again."

She grinned broadly. "I'll contact Mandalore, we can..." Amidala trailed off when the man rose a hand, his eyes narrowed, his handsome face hard.

"I'm not doing that again. I'm willing to meet you, but the terms will be mine."

Palpatine leaned over to the Naboo Senator. "This is unwise, we can't-"

"You are free to discuss the terms after I finish wasting my time with you, Chancellor." Palpatine slowly centered himself in his chair, his eyes downcast, and Kenobi looked over the chamber with disdain. "First, we meet alone, as before. But we will meet in my residence, and my personal ship will bring you there. I won't submit to a containment field again, so you can just forget about that right now."

"H-how can we-"

"You're just going to have to trust me, Padmé, that's how." The Naboo Senator fell silent, not for a second wondering how the Negotiator had known what the question would be. "You brought a company of Jedi with you before, but that's not going to happen again. No Jedi, no guards, just you."

"That's insanity!" Palpatine said, his voice strained with shock and outrage as he rose from his seat in a muted show of temper. "Nobody would ever agree to those terms." The Negotiator simply shrugged.

"Than we are done talking. You know my terms, Senators. If you ever feel compelled to accept them, you know how to contact me. Until then..." He smirked, his eyes seeming to glint even in the blue hues of the hologram. "Please, tell your Jedi commanders that I greatly look forward to meeting them on the field." The hologram cut, leaving the room in dim light for a moment before the lights slowly brightened. The room erupted into frantic and outraged chatter, the Chancellor doing what he could to calm the room, but all Padmé could do was lean back and slump in her chair, eyes closed as she wondered what would come next.

It was late when Anakin Skywalker arrived at Padmé's apartment, the young Padawan easily getting access when C-3PO admitted him without question and with a flurry of friendly greetings, the droid's metallic accolades bringing the Senator out of her bedroom. With a bright smile, she threw herself at the Jedi, grasping him in a tight hug that he gleefully returned.

"I missed you, Padmé," Anakin said softly, and the woman squeezed him tighter. Anakin tensed. There was...something about the woman that he hadn't felt before, not like this, not since he'd known her. He was under the understanding that the Senate had a very rough day, but he hadn't been privy to the details. He was too busy training to find out. The whole Order was. "There hasn't been a lot of time to see each other, has there?"

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, there hasn't. So much has happened, but..." She stopped when the Jedi softly cupped her cheek, his face flushed, and with a small whimper, she managed to wriggle away from him. "I heard the Jedi were recalled from the war."

"Um, yes. Just for a little while. We're training. Obi-Wan's proving to be a greater threat than we imagined, so the Masters called us all back to give us proper training for fighting the Sith." She scoffed without intending to do so, her mind beginning to swim again. "...what?"

"You Jedi talk about the Sith a lot."

"Uh, yeah, because the Sith are the problem, Padmé. Master Yoda thinks this whole mess is because of them."

"No, this mess is happening because the Confederacy and the Republic can't agree on anything."

"...right, because Dooku's a Sith Lord."

"And Obi-Wan?"

"He's a Sith too."

Padmé's eyes narrowed in anger, though she couldn't explain why. Glaring at the confused Jedi, she stated imperiously, "You know, just because a Jedi leaves the Order, it doesn't make them Sith."

"...right, but they are." Biting his lip, Anakin observed the woman, her posture tense, her pulse elevated, her...he shook his head. He didn't know. Touching her with the Force only yielded an absolute haze of emotions and confusion, and he couldn't work it out. "What happened, Padmé? You're not usually this tense or this angry. I'd like to help, if I can."

"Well, there's a war going on."

"Yes, I know that. I wasn't asking about that, I was asking about you." He reached out to brush her arm, her soft skin warm, and through the Force, he could finally feel the sensation he couldn't place. It was desire.

Biting her lip and shifting from one foot to the other, Padmé quietly said, "We had a peace council with the Negotiator today." Anakin tensed. "It didn't go well."

"What, he was here?!"

"It was over hologram, Anakin, relax. If he was on Coruscant, don't you think you Jedi would seize him the second he set foot on the planet?"

"Oh, absolutely." She crossed her arms over her chest, and Anakin could feel her temper flare. She was a mess, worse than he'd ever seen her. What could possibly have her angry and frustrated and lustful all at once? He stared at her, dumbfounded, for a long moment before the wheels in his head slowly jolted and began to turn, his blue eyes widening as realization dawned on him. His Jedi training didn't prepare him for emotional, hormonal soup like this.

"You know, the Jedi are undermining the peace process by targeting him! He just wants-"

"This is about him," he growled, his voice low, soft, and edged with danger. "This is about Obi-Wan." Anger flashed through him when he saw her shiver at the mention of the man's name, and he reached out with the Force, surrounding her with his presence so he could feel her every thought, her every feeling, and he wasn't going to let go. "I thought your flirting with him on Mandalore was a negotiation tactic! I didn't think...I-I thought we had something special!"

"Anakin, you're a Jedi-"

"So was he!"

"Yes, was! He's not a Jedi anymore!" She huffed, crossing her arms, and Anakin felt his temper flare as hers did. Connecting himself to her possibly wasn't wise, but he had to know. He needed to know. "On Geonosis, we thought we were going to die! It was emotional! For all of us!"

"You lied to me?!"

"No, I didn't! But you're going to be a Jedi, Anakin, you're forbidden from these things! And I won't be the one to stand in the way of your training!" With a sharp gasp, the Senator tensed, and Anakin felt her flooded with warmth, her pulse racing as a soft, sweet voice whispered deep in her memory. Skywalker recognized it instantly.

"Sweet Force, what has he done to you?" he asked softly, stepping toward her, and she shivered, worse than before, biting her lip as she fought for control that was quickly slipping away from her. "He's in your mind, I can feel it..."

"He didn't do anything to me, Anakin!" she snapped. "I've always felt this way, when I was young, I loved him!"

"No you didn't, you barely knew him!"

"But I know him better now!"

"You really don't!"

"He's sweet, and he wants peace, and he's handsome, and he's so much more than what I remember!" She tried to suppress a moan, but she spectacularly failed on that account, closing her eyes and looking away as the Sith's smooth voice echoed in her mind, again and again and again until it drove her to absolute madness. Anakin felt it too, the Force burning with passion and he felt himself grow angry, jealous of the Sith Lord that had quietly stolen the girl from under him. But he also felt the pooling, unbearable heat in his stomach that only grew stronger as visions of Padmé flashed through his mind, memories of the dreams the girl had of moaning and writhing helpless under the passionate embrace of the Sith.

Skywalker grabbed the Senator's arms much harder than he intended, his jaw clenched hard in anger, but his blue eyes dilated with mindless passion. "He's none of that, he's messing with your mind! You think that too, I can feel it." He growled, pulling her closer, and the hazy woman whimpered, shivering at his touch. "Trust your instinct, Padmé, you are right about him. He did something."

"T-this was always in me, he-"

"Maybe it was!" He snarled, temper rising further as passion gripped him. He knew the dangers of passion, but in this moment, that's all there was. The Dark Side wasn't here, except for the faint touch of it in the Senator's mind. Emotion wasn't wrong, and Master Quinlan had advised him to just be smart about this. "Maybe you did want him once, and he is preying on that! You're different now, he's different now!"

"He's what I want..." she said almost mindlessly, and Anakin grabbed her face between his hands, snarling as he did so.

"Show me what he's done to you, Padmé, show me."

He had felt it before, the gentle insistence, the soft urging toward passion and physical euphoria, but now, Anakin could hear him clearly, that soft, smooth Coruscanti accent whispering softly to the woman in her mind, whipping her into a lustful haze, just as it was doing to Anakin now. It started softly, echoing in his mind and growing increasingly louder as each second passed until it was all he could hear. He tried to break away, draw himself out of the Force, throw up his shields, but the voice broke his concentration, pulling him in every time he managed to turn away for a moment.

He felt this before on Geonosis when he had fought the Sith. When he had been forced to follow his command. Like then, the Sith's orders filled his mind, louder and louder until he could hear nothing else, feel nothing else but the need to obey. The Sith had made him a slave to his will, just as he was doing to Senator Amidala now. Just like it was happening to him. Again. Anakin shook his head. He would not be slave to a Sith Lord, not here, not now, even though it felt so good.

"Padmé," Anakin managed to choke, his voice horse and heavy with desire. "We can fight this, we can-"

"I want you," she purred, her voice low and needy, and Skywalker shivered, the Senator's voice matching the words that ran through their minds without mercy or restraint.

Skywalker opened his mouth to say something, anything that could have broken them out of it, but he had wanted this. Even without the command of the Sith, he had wanted this. When he finally found his voice, all he could manage was a low moan that drawled, "I want you."

Their lips met in a furious clash, swift, clumsy hands mindlessly shedding the other's clothing as they moaned loudly, kissing and biting their way along bare skin as it was exposed, their frenzy drowning out the voice in their minds and leaving only a hazy passion that fogged their senses. All the desires they had pent up came bursting forth, drowning them pleasure and lust and passion until there was nothing left but each other.