Star Wars AU work in progress: Becoming Love: I, In You: The Rise of the Clone Wars
Second Half of the Fifth Chapter of a SW AU work in progress (broken into two posts because of the LJ’s troublesome word/character lengths)
Series Title: Becoming Love: I, In You
*Story Title: The Rise of the Clone Wars
*Tentative/working title only - subject to change, as I’m not sure I like it!
Pairing: Mainly Dormékin with some background Sobidala (Sabé/Obi-Wan/Padmé Amidala).
*Rating: Uhm, probably a borderline PG-13/R-ish, overall, maybe (?)
*This may be subject to change, in a few very specific later parts.
Disclaimer: I do not own the lovely boys and girls from Star Wars, more's the pity! What I do have is an extremely contrary muse that refuses to shut up and leave me alone (or to make up its bloody mind about certain things) . . .
Summary: What if Senator Padmé Amidala had refused to go into hiding on Naboo, during the events of AotC and a scheme were instead hatched that involved sending Dormé Tammesin (the Senator's only surviving handmaiden on Coruscant who’d been trained as a decoy) into hiding as Amidala, with Anakin Skywalker to accompany and protect her, while Obi-Wan Kenobi went searching for the individual(s) responsible for the attempts on the Senator’s life and the first of the Senator's decoys (now one of the primary trainers of her new handmaidens), Sabé Dahn, brought her newest students to Coruscant to help Jedi Knights Siri Tachi and Garen Muln in their new assignment to hide and protect Padmé, while she remained on Coruscant to covertly continue the fight against the passing of the Military Creation Act? What, then, might have followed . . . and how would events have turned out differently than in the film saga? Dormékin AU of AotC!
Author’s Warnings: 1.) Please see the Author’s Warnings for the preface and prologue and first chapter of this story, as they continue to hold true pretty much throughout the rest of the story!
2.) Again, this story does not have a beta - I’ve proof-read and checked the grammar, but I won’t swear that there aren’t any typos! I will be happy to fix any errors that are pointed out to me!
Author’s Notes: 1.) Please see the Author’s Notesfor the preface and prologue and first chapter of this story, as they continue to hold true pretty much throughout the rest of the story!
2.) Please keep in mind that some of the scenes in this work are going to be deliberately modelled after scenes in AotC (specifically the novelization of AotC by R. A. Salvatore), especially near the start of the story!
3.) Again, I have a journal entry with a running list of costumes/images that work as "illustrations" for much of this story, a more complete/updated version of which can now be found at http://polgarawolf.livejournal.com/136333.html and, when the story is completely done, I will likely go back and either create specific entries with links for each chapter or include the proper information on costumes and such for each chapter in that chapter post.
Star Wars
Becoming Love: I, In You
The Rise of the Clone Wars
Chapter Five: A Slight Change in Plans
1,000:05:18 After Ruusan Reformations (25,001 After Republic’s Founding), 18 days prior to the Battle of Geonosis
Fighting against universal forces, though instinctual, is often foolhardy.
- Ancient saying attributed to the Bendu monks
Master Kenobi actually returns to Milady’s apartments without his Padawan learner in tow, and so all Dormé has to do, to see to it that her orders are carried out, is to let him in to see Padmé and then wait for Anakin to show up and keep him from interrupting the conversation that Milady and the Bendu Knight might still be having. Depending on how long it takes Anakin to follow his Master in, she can either distract him with the promise of another meal and a strong hint that Milady is sleeping and his Master has already secured the premises again or else pull him aside for a discussion regarding the change in plans that Milady will have already proceeded to impress most deeply upon Master Kenobi and the High Council Masters.
Which is precisely how Dormé ends up back in one of the kitchens with Anakin a little over an hour after Obi-Wan Kenobi has headed off to Milady’s private quarters, clad in an ever so slightly darker version of the gown she’d worn to meet Milady on her arrival on Coruscant, sipping a cup of wake-tea and picking at a couple of breakfast scones while Anakin methodically devours a plate full of food and awkwardly tries to apologize for his brusqueness earlier. “You’re sure your arm is alright? I honestly didn’t mean to push you as hard as I did. I just needed to get past you and I wanted to make sure someone was going to see to Padmé and there was really no time to talk. It gave me an awful fright, seeing Obi-Wan go through the window like that, and all I could think of was that I had to get out there, so I could find him and catch him, if the droid shook him loose and he started to fall,” Anakin explains with a surprisingly nonsheepish tone of voice, his manner more matter of fact than truly embarrassed, if clearly also regretful of any harm he might’ve accidentally caused her.
Dormé just sighs and takes another drink of her soothingly hot tea. “I’m fine, Anakin, truly. You could have been a bit more careful with Milady - she nearly tumbled across the bed and into the floor - but we both know you were only trying to get us both somewhere safely out of the way so you could go after Master Kenobi and the source of the danger. You were only in a hurry to help him.”
Anakin flashes her a grateful little smile. “It wasn’t a very bright thing to do. He couldn’t possibly have known he’d be able to hold on long enough for me to catch up with him. It was more like something I might have done, a few years ago, when I went through my ‘damn foolish stunts and heroics’ phase, as he called it. I thought my heart would leap out of my chest!” he then complains, smile transmuting to a sharp grimace, clearly still unnerved by the entire experience.
“He takes his protective duties seriously. And he knew you’d follow him and be there before anything bad could happen,” Dormé soothingly counters, essentially repeating what she’s already said to calm Padmé down, if with a slightly different spin. “He trusts you Anakin.”
“Then why did he have a fit when I dove out of the skimmer after the bounty hunter? It’s not like her skimmer was far enough away for me to miss!” he only irritably points out in return.
Her heart turns over painfully at the admission that the pursuit of this bounty hunter involved leaping out of moving skimmers, but she schools her face to a blankness tinged ever so slightly with amusement, rather than allow her horror to show. “Why do you want to scold him for going out the window after the droid? Same reason: it was startling as all get out and it made your heart skip at least a couple of beats, just like it likely did for him to see you jump out of the skimmer,” she points out with a small shrug.
Anakin makes a low grumbling noise but (wisely) doesn’t argue the point, aside from acerbically pointing out, “At least I knew he was right there where he could get to me easily, if anything went wrong.”
She refrains from rolling her eyes (just!) by changing the subject, asking, “I wonder how the other bounty hunter kept his presence masked. Neither of you sensed him, did you?”
Anakin shrugs casually. “Too much ambient noise with nasty overtones. Nearly everyone at that level has thoughts and goals in mind that are less than repeatable in polite company. And whoever or whatever else it was, it was a professional. He or she or it probably was focused on aiming, rather than the act of shooting and killing. Even when you’re listening for trouble, it can be next to impossible to sift anything out that’s really useful in time to do anything besides react, in a crush like that, if the being in question is focused on some specific process rather than on mayhem or murder in general,” he explains. “If the bounty hunter hadn’t had that jet pack, we still could have gotten him. Or her. Or whatever it was. Master thinks it was a man, but then, he thought the changeling was a man, too, at first, and she definitely turned out to be a she, so Force alone only knows what the second one is. With all that armor, it really wasn’t possible to tell for sure, though I agree the armor definitely suggests a Mando.”
“I thought the Mandalorians were all wiped out on Galidraan a few decades ago.”
“True Mandalorians only, and there were actually a couple of survivors, though I hear that didn’t keep Master Dooku from throwing an absolute fit about the mission - not that I can really blame him. I would’ve been pissed off, too, if I’d been tricked into being the cause of a massacre of virtual innocents, when it was the politicians and his Death Watch hirelings who’d done all the wrong. Besides, there’s always some Mando around. All you have to do is agree to live by their code, to become one. They’re like Jedi, that way. It makes them next to impossible to ever really completely wipe out,” he replies with another loose shrug.
“Oh.” Dormé frowns, feeling as if they’re somehow both missing something obvious. “Wait a moment, Master Dooku? Count Yannis Dooku of Serenno?”
“Uhm, yeah. Why?”
“He’s the one who’s been fighting Milady’s efforts to kill the proposed Military Creation Act! They think he may’ve had something to do with the first attack against her, on Naboo!”
“But Dooku was Qui-Gon’s Master. He left the Order because of his ideals, not because he wanted to - to - I don’t know, make the Republic go to war against itself!” Anakin protests, looking genuinely shocked by the notion that the former Jedi Master might have anything to do with the attacks on Senator Amidala.
“Says who? Your Council? Like the Council Masters pay any attention to anything outside of their ivory towers!”
Anakin puts down his fork with far more force than in necessary. “Hey! That’s Qui-Gon’s Master you’re accusing!”
She just scowls at him irritably, refusing to back down. “Well, forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but what if it’s him? What if he thinks the only way to change anything of the Republic’s ideals is to tear down the actual Republic and start over again?”
Anakin frowns darkly. “Then maybe he’s right and Padmé is on the wrong side.”
“Anakin!” she gasps, scandalized at the very thought.
“Well, sorry, but what if she is? You’re the one who told me Master argues with her about this kind of thing all the time! What if Obi-Wan and Dooku are right and that’s the only way to really fix anything and Padmé’s supporting the wrong blasted side in this?”
“That doesn’t give him the right to physically attack her, for Nisaba’s sake!”
“And what if it’s not him? Or not him directly? Dooku’s a powerful, charismatic man, from what I’ve heard. It could be one of his followers or admirers or workers can see that Padmé is on the wrong side and is capable of keeping what needs to happen from actually happening and just assumed that the bast way to serve the interests both of Dooku and the greater good was to get rid of her, you know.”
“That’s - that’s - ”
“ - something that would seem very reasonable, for a fanatic?” Anakin breaks in, raising an eyebrow at her challengingly.
Dormé just stares at him, unable to think of a way to refute his words but too horrified with the sheer plausibility of what he’s proposing to be able to really accept the argument either. “That’s monstrous,” she finally whispers, utterly aghast. “Surely Milady - ”
Anakin just tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “Have you ever really stopped to think what it is that she’s protecting versus what it is that she believes she’s protecting? Has anyone besides Obi-Wan ever tried to talk to her about the gap between the two things? My Master’s a good person and he’s extremely intelligent, but his arguments . . . sometimes he just comes off wrong, you know? The kind of wrong where a body wants to argue against him just because he makes so much sense that it’s kind of scary and you’re afraid that he just might be right.”
“I don’t - I’m not - Anakin, now you’re the one who’s giving me a headache!”
“Sorry. It’s just, if Obi-Wan’s working his way up to a decision, I want it to be the right one. And I want all of you to make that decision with us,” is Anakin’s entirely too fervent reply.
Dormé shakes her head sharply, turning away from that pleading, serious, passionate gaze and refusing to make eye contact. “It would be up to Milady and Queen Jamillia - ”
“You shouldn’t let them make up your mind for you, Dormé. Especially not if you can see where they might be wrong. Isn’t Sabé always saying - ”
“Lady Sabé agrees with Master Kenobi. She tried to talk Milady out of her stance against the Military Creation Act. She thinks if it ends up coming down to a fight, the so-called Republic will start conscripting soldiers from the Expansionary Regions on outwards and make the Jedi their generals and their shock troops. Milady says it will never happen - she refuses to believe the democratic spirit of the Republic has fallen so far that it could happen, just as she refuses to believe the Republic would have done nothing to help Naboo, if matters hadn’t fallen out as they did - but I fear Sabé may be right. Did you know Chandrila and Alderaan have been stockpiling weapons and ships and medicinals, ever since the Trade Federation’s occupation of Naboo? Even the Crown Prince of Alderaan agrees something awful is coming, and Bail’s usually so optimistic that he makes Milady look cynical! He and his sister have been talking with Queen Jamillia about the growing refugee problem, from troubles spreading inward from the Outer Rim Territories, and I think they’ve nearly convinced her that just creating another, more galactic-wide organization for disaster relief isn’t going to be enough. But Anakin, the Separatists - the people supporting Dooku - it’s mostly corporations like the Trade Federation, not the residents of worlds being harmed by the Republic’s growing corruption!”
“Sometimes the right thing gets done for the wrong reason,” Anakin only shrugs cynically in reply. “That doesn’t make the result of the action wrong. It just makes it . . . less agreeable.”
“I don’t think I like where you’re going with this. The Trade Federation was working with at least one Sith Lord that we know of, during the invasion of Naboo, and - ”
“Or maybe they were duped into invading by a Sith’s machinations and had no idea who they were working with or doing a favor for or why seizing Naboo might help to advance a Sith’s plans!” he quickly counters.
“And maybe they’re being duped into helping the other Sith Lord still!”
“Or maybe the Sith is using them to give the idea of needing to change the way the Republic does things a bad rap, to keep people from noticing how bad things are really getting! Maybe the idea is to make them a kind of scapegoat - ”
“And maybe the Sith is someone in power who benefitted from Naboo’s invasion and would benefit from a civil war! Ever think of that?” Dormé interrupts to waspishly demand.
With disarming earnestness, Anakin replies, “Constantly. Obi-Wan’s always thought we should have gone looking for the second Sith, after Naboo, instead of just letting the matter drop. He’s made inquiries about it himself and tried to figure out who it could be, but the thing is, there were a lot of beings who could have benefitted, if the conflict had dragged on longer than it did.”
Scowling, she starts to point out, “You know, your friend, the Chancellor - ”
With the kind of huffy irritability of one who’s gotten so used to defending a disreputable friend that further complaints about said friend are no longer really listened to, Anakin irately snaps, “I thinks someone would notice if the Supreme Chancellor were a Sith Lord, Dormé!”
“And I think someone would notice if we were being set up to support the wrong blasted side in a potential civil war! So I guess that means we’re back to square one!” she snaps back, not bothering to hide an iota of her frustration with him.
“If you’re Padmé and I’m Obi-Wan, I guess we are!” Anakin half shouts and half pouts at her, in response.
She glares at him for several moments before the absurdity of the situation and the aptness of the comparison really sinks in, and then reluctantly finds herself grinning at him. “We do sound rather like them, don’t we? Only not nearly so calm.”
A small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Anakin posits, “Maybe we should leave the arguing to them, then.”
“Maybe. Come on. Let’s go see how things are going with your Master, shall we? He may have news for us regarding the next step Milady wishes to take,” she offers, seeing that he’s basically cleaned his plate and hoping that the news Master Kenobi will most likely have to share will keep Anakin too occupied to pick another fight with her.
Anakin grins, nods easy agreement, and pushes himself to his feet, following her lead.
Less than five minutes later, she’s already bitterly regretting her decision to seek out the Bendu Knight, for he’s still in Milady’s private quarters, and Milady is in the process of having an almost vicious fight with Lady Sabé regarding her decision to defy the schemes of the High Council Masters and remain on Coruscant for the vote, the arguing so fraught with tension and with emotion that Anakin automatically abandons Dormé to moves swiftly over to Obi-Wan’s side, where both of the Jedi look increasingly painfully out of place and discomforted with the situation, shrinking in upon themselves as though trying to make themselves too small to be noticed by anyone.
“I will not! I refuse to allow my life, my actions, to be dictated by such cowards! I will not run away and cower in hiding every time some greedy corporation or disgruntled political rival thinks to hire some bully boys to try to frighten me into a new course of action!” Padmé thunders at the active holocomm receiver/transmitter, oddly beautiful in her affront, shining in her pale nightgown like a force of nature or a living manifestation of the Lady Nisaba Herself.
If Padmé is like an avatar of the Great Lady, then Sabé is her twin, equally ferocious in her frustrated protectiveness and equally breathtaking, despite being present only via hologram and in a pale nightdress and embroidered dressing gown, dark hair pulled back haphazardly from her face, disheveled dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. “These are professional assassins and bounty hunters, Padmé, not some random hooligans from the streets! You have a duty to - ”
“I have a duty to see this bill through to the vote, Sabé! I cannot just pack up and go home because of what’s being seen as a few minor incidents! What will the other Senators think, but that I have admitted defeat or that I am too frightened to stand up for my beliefs, if I were to do so? I refuse to do any such thing! I will not pander to the flawed assumption that sufficient might and force is the answer! You cannot ask me to go so contrary to my nature, in this!”
“I ask you to do the responsible thing and return home, where you can be more sure of your safety without requiring extra guards, so that the Jedi will be able to focus all of their considerable energies on quickly getting the job done and finding the culprits ultimately responsible for these attacks, so that you may then safely return here in time for the vote!” Sabé very nearly shouts in return, clearly infuriated by Padmé’s stubbornness. “And I would have expected better from you, of all people! An explosion that claims the lives of two of your best decoys and another twenty-six of your handmaidens is certainly no mere ‘minor’ incident!”
Padmé flushes a painfully embarrassed shade of vivid red and then goes stark white, a shade so bloodlessly pale that Dormé knows there is about to be real trouble. “I take the loss of any life as no mere minor incident, as you should well know, which is precisely why I refuse to be intimidated into abandoning my duties here! Cordé, Versé, and the others all gave their lives so that I could return to Coruscant to be present for the voting on this proposed bill. I will not dishonor their sacrifices in order to turn about and flee back to Naboo like a whipped cur with my tail between my legs mere days before the issue is bound to come to a vote! And I am amazed that you, a former Queen’s First, could ever support such a thing!”
Sabé looks as though she is torn between screaming in sheer frustration or else bursting into tears. “Padmé, for Asherah’s sake - !”
“No. You must make other arrangements. Uproot the training school and come here yourself, if you must, but here I am and here I shall surely remain, until this issue has been decided by the Senate!”
When Padmé has whirled about and stalked out of the room and the Jedi have exchanged wide-eyed glances and departed as well at something more closely resembling a quick trot than their usual temperate and graceful glide, Sabé utters a string of curses in Nabooian and Uriashian so vile that Dormé feels as if her cheeks might blister from the heat of her blushes. Hesitantly, she draws attention to herself by starting to ask, “Lady Sabé, if you wish, I could ask Master Kenobi to try to - ”
“Don’t bother. When she is like this, nothing short of force can sway her. It appears as though you’re going to be called on to act as decoy for Milady one more time after all, Dormé. They’re going to have to at least appear to send a Padmé Amidala away from Coruscant under Jedi guard, for her own safety, if that little fool expects to live long enough to see that damned vote, and, since she refuses to be the one to go, I fear that leaves only you. I’m sorry, m’éadáil oileanach. I know you thought you were done with this part of the job, but none of the girls with you now are practiced enough to carry a deception of this nature off and unfortunately we simply cannot be there quickly enough to make a switch or else I would volunteer myself. They shall have to either split up the Team or else find someone else to send back with you. Either way, I expect another Master-Padawan pair will likely be assigned to Milady, at least until we can get there. You’ll likely end up coming back here with Anakin, while Obi-Wan hunts down this second bounty hunter. I trust this will not be a problem for you?”
“No, Lady Sabé. Anakin and I get along quite well. We . . . understand each other.”
“Good girl.” A ghost of a smile flickers across Sabé’s flower-like face. “I always said you were the most flexible of us all. Thank you for once again proving me correct. I am going to comm Obi-Wan and see about comming the Council Masters, to see about apologizing for this mess. I would avoid speaking to Padmé for at least an hour or so, if I were you. Attend to the wardrobe instead - see if there is ought in her cases that will fit you, until you reach Naboo.”
“Of course, Lady Sabé. Honor to serve.”
She sighs, quirks her lips in a wry little smile, and then nods, acknowledging, “Heart and soul to serve, m’éadáil oileanach. Until we meet again.”
The blue-tinged hologram flickers off and Dormé allows herself the luxury of a groan as she sinks down in the nearest chair, rubbing soothing circles around her temples in an attempt to stave off the massive headache she can feel coming on. Given what she recalls of the contents of Milady’s wardrobe, she’s soon groaning again, even more loudly, after which she sighs loudly, in resignation. She is not only taller than Padmé but also ever so slightly longer through the torso, meaning that it is not all that likely that any of those ornate senatorial costumes are going to fit her all that terribly well. Yet, needs must, and, though she may well be in some sort of disguise during her actual departure from Coruscant for Naboo, she is likely still going to have to present herself to Queen Jamillia as if she were Padmé Amidala. And sitting and groaning over the prospect of trying to find properly fitting garb isn’t going to help resolve matters any, so . . . with another deep sigh, she pushes herself back to her feet.
A brief flicker of a smile ghosts across Dormé’s lips as it occurs to her that this, at least, is a task that will doubtlessly keep her far too busy to attempt to speak to Milady any time soon, within the next several hours, and then she turns, with an air of resignation, towards the room in Milady’s suite where most of her clothing is being stored, grimly determined to do what she can and to call in the seamstress Padmé keeps on retainer, while in residence on Coruscant, to make some hasty alterations to a few dresses, if necessary. A departure gown, most likely at least three to five days travel time to Naboo, a formal gown for visiting the Queen, to keep her properly in the loop, clothing for what will likely (unfortunately) be an unavoidable (and most probably uncomfortable) trip to the Naberrie household, travel clothes for Varykino . . . Lady bless, this may actually take all day! Shaking her head, she reaches for her private comlink and signals for the other girls to come and attend her, so that things may perhaps go more swiftly (or at least more smoothly, with more hands present to help), hunting out the second of her private comlinks (for the world beyond the apartment complex and Milady’s staff) as she goes, so that she can go ahead and call in Mistress Elseida, for those alterations . . .
*********
Elseida Navrielle is a protégée of Fé Gélètánine, the primary dressmaker in charge of the wardrobes of both Padmé Amidala and her handmaidens ever since the earliest days of Queen Amidala’s first term. A woman of exceptional taste, skill, courage, and loyalty (stories are still told on Naboo of the daring Fé and her apprentice, Gilliarc Nócrydden, who dressed themselves as handmaidens during the invasion in order to provide a distraction while the Princess of Theed and her handmaiden coterie attempted to flee the Palace, and how Gilliarc became so good at impersonating a woman that even former handmaidens Essé Seltrin and Rosé Ganesa mistook him for one of the Queen’s handmaidens in training), Fé, along with her various apprentices, has largely been responsible for clothing all of Milady Amidala’s household for so long and she and her students have all been so unflinchingly loyal that her latest protégée, Elseida, is one of the few individuals outside of the Jedi High Council and Milady’s own household who can be safely trusted with the information that, while it may appear to be Padmé Amidala who will soon be returning to Naboo, it will in fact be Dormé Tammesin who will be departing while the Senator herself remains on Coruscant. Though Elseida somehow manages to be both blunter and less diplomatic and yet also somewhat flightier than Fé, she is a genius of a designer with a talent for creating both overwhelmingly rich, gorgeous costumes for the likes of a Queen or a Senator and unremarkable yet all but shockingly protective and functional uniforms for handmaidens.
A thin, pale girl of slightly greater than average height with perpetually frazzled dark curly hair, mild blue eyes, and a mostly unremarkable roundish oval face, aside from a slightly overlarge nose, who (as she has been known to say many times) would have been quite ravishing instead of rather plain if only her eyes had been more widely spaced apart and her mouth were approximately half again the size that it is, Elseida arrives promptly at five o’clock (despite the short notice and the extremely early hour) with what looks to be at least a fifth of the contents of her store in raw materials piled high on some portable repulsorlifts, passes a cursory glance over the contents of Milady’s extensive wardrobe, tells Joané Aldon to make herself useful and fetch her a cup and a carafe of hot caf, orders the other girls to help her set up what amounts to another room within the larger chamber, consisting of a circle of tall, linked mirrors, and then cheerfully orders Dormé to step within the mirrors and strip so she can confirm her measurements, so that she’ll know precisely what it is that she’s going to be working with. Though it has been some time since Dormé has subjected herself to the critical gaze of anyone other than either one of her teachers or her personal healer, she allows herself to be herded inside the mirrored cage and strips down, allowing Elseida to measure here and there with an impersonal touch and drape bolts of various cloth over her shoulders so as to study the lie of it.
“If you were going to be taller than normal, then you could’ve stood to be taller still,” Elseida grumbles irritably at one point. “Such height would make for a better line. But you are in excellent shape and proportioned well. And Milady is, after all, somewhat petite. Alright, then. Put your clothes back on, and I’ll tell you what I think.”
“I’m not sure if there’ll be enough time for you to create anything new between now and whenever I have to leave, but any help you can give will be greatly appreciated, given how much taller I am now than Milady,” Dormé politely notes, allowing Joané and a few of the other girls to help her redress so that no time will be wasted.
“You’re lucky, though. Everything is made to order to be adjustable for her decoys, none of whom currently have her exact measurements, and she generally favors gowns that lack set waists, which means that the differences in the lines of your torso and the size of your breasts should be fairly negligible, and most if not all of the difference in height from your longer legs can be camouflaged either by choosing gowns that either have trains or skirts meant to pool on the floor at least a little or else by letting some hems down and adding some ruffled trims to the skirts of whichever other gowns you might wish to borrow.”
“And she will have most of two days in which to work - all of the rest of this day and no less than half of tomorrow, since I will not allow them to rush into sending you back to Naboo. Since these costumes will not have to stand up to the scrutiny of the Senate, she can forgo many of the elaborations she would add by hand, which will save quite a bit on time and effort.”
Dormé startles, despite herself, not expecting Milady to have recovered sufficiently from her passionate argument with Lady Sabé to yet take an interest in the necessity of putting together a wardrobe capable of allowing Dormé to pass as Amidala. “Milady.” She curtsies automatically, slightly flustered, not entirely sure what to say and not exactly sure that Padmé’s apparent calm will hold, if pushed too far, especially given the presence of a certain active holocomm unit in the room, projecting the blue-tinged image of a quiet Lady Sabé (called on to participate in the consult, given her extensive experience as Amidala’s decoy).
“I should have expected you would already be organizing the necessary details.” Padmé’s smile is perhaps a little strained around the edges, but the warmth in it is genuine enough. “You always have had a gift for organization.” Turning slightly towards the waiting dressmaker, she firmly notes, “Mistress Elseida, I wish you to spare no expense in the creation of this wardrobe for my loyal handmaiden. I understand that your work is going to be rushed, but I insist that you bring in further assistants if necessary. Dormé deserves no less than the very best.”
“A day and a half and all of my assistants to work, and I wager even you will be startled to see what can be accomplished, Milady,” Elseida declares, her mouth quirking in a small half smile as she drops Padmé an informal nod. “I approve of your headpiece, by the way. If you’re going to be trying to lay low while you’re still here, pretending to be one of your handmaidens, you should consider breaking out the gowns that have coordinating veils or matching wimples. And I’d advise the same for your Sabé, if she’s going to be joining you here.”
“I appreciate the suggestion, Mistress. I’ll see to it that the suggestion is passed along.” Padmé tilts her head at Joané, who takes the cue to withdraw and see to it that the suggestion is indeed passed along. “If there are any gowns here that you need to have access to, to modify for Dormé, please, feel free to take them with you. I would only ask that you avoid taking any of the gowns that have coordinating or matching veils or wimples, as I intend to take your advice.”
“As you will,” Elseida shrugs, making a careless gesture, and the nods in easy agreement. “I doubt I’ll need any of them, anyway: there are enough gowns here with trains and with hems low enough and elaborate enough that the addition of another ruffle or some lace won’t hurt anything, and Dormé shouldn’t be close enough to anyone who’d be able to tell it isn’t really you and wouldn’t already know why it’s not you to need veiling anyway.”
“Good. Concentrate on the gowns most suitable for a Senator. If possible, try to aim for enough costumes for at least a month. We have no way of knowing yet how long we will have to keep this deception in play or whether or not Dormé may be called upon to participate in various holocomm communications while pretending to be me, and she can, after all, always borrow less formal gowns from among my things at home or at Varykino, once she is on Naboo,” Padmé quietly but firmly orders.
“As you wish. That should be doable. Just make sure you make proper arrangements to pack and ship everything, when you’re making travel arrangements. These won’t precisely be the kinds of things one can just cram into a single carry-on valise,” Elseida warns.
Padmé inclines her head graciously. “Of course. Proper arrangements will be made, never you fear. That is part of the reason why Dormé and Anakin will not be leaving until no earlier than tomorrow afternoon.”
“If I may,” Sabé quietly interjects, her voice calm but also oddly flat and toneless, as if she were repressing all of her emotions in order to avoid exploding into another furious tirade of arguing, “allow me to suggest that Dormé travel as a young matron of the Thousand Moons system. You do still have those disguises with you, Milady, don’t you?”
“Four of them, yes,” is Padmé’s coolly stiff response. “The gold and deep yellow and burgundy with orichalc costume; the bright salmon-red and dark burgundy with electrum; the green and black with kelsh metal; and the pale pink and salmon rose with gold. She’ll likely have to wear at least one of them twice. It generally takes a full week, if not more than five days, for commercial transportation that is not individually chartered to travel the hyperspace route from Coruscant to Naboo, and we will not be chartering personal transportation, since we are trying to convince anyone watching that I am being secretly sent back to Naboo for my own safety.”
Sabé makes a point of shrugging and casually continuing to paint her toenails. “Our transportation to Coruscant has already been arranged. The girls are packing now. It should take about two and a half or three days for us to get to you. You will wait for us to arrive before you attempt anything, won’t you?” she asks, arching an eyebrow pointedly.
“I doubt Obi-Wan will leave until after you have arrived,” Padmé nonchalantly replies, the edges of her mouth curving slightly, as if amused by the Jedi Bendu’s protectiveness.
“Then we’ll all be able to wish him luck on his search for the second bounty hunter.”
Padmé inclines her head ever so slightly, the slight curve to her mouth deepening infinitesimally. “Indeed.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure that’s all quite lovely. But I’m afraid, ladies, that I need to be getting some of these things back to my shop. So if some of you lovely handmaidens can help me gather things up. . . ?” Elseida breaks in after several long moments in which Padmé and Sabé simply gaze silently at each other, identical small smiles blossoming slowly across their faces in almost eerie synchronicity.
Dormé and Joané automatically jump to help Elseida and a small gesture from Dormé quickly brings the other handmaidens forward so that soon all of them are rapidly and efficiently moving around the room, gathering and packing items away at Elseida’s direction. Dormé, torn between nodding in gleeful approval (she does favor vivid shades of red, though unfortunately she isn’t able to wear such bold hues all that often) and protesting that Milady doesn’t frequently wear such bright, attention-grabbing shades of red, outside of the Nabooian royal court, keeps her mouth determinedly shut, for fear of seeming to doubt Elseida’s either taste or her knowledge of Milady’s usual wardrobe and causing the woman to lose her surprisingly agreeable demeanor. With all of them working together, it takes surprisingly little time to pack everything Elseida has brought with her and all of the garments she wishes to take with her onto the repulsorlifts she’s brought along. With another slight gesture, Dormé allows Elseida to guide the heavily laden repulsorlifts out of the room and carefully herds all of the handmaidens out afterwards, closing the door behind them softly.
With any luck at all, Padmé and Sabé will take advantage of the privacy to at least begin to make up again, after their vicious argument, and she and the other handmaidens will be able to stop worrying about Padmé taking it in to her head to do something insanely dangerous, just to prove a point to everyone who’d rather send her back to Naboo to hide instead of just a decoy. And if not, well . . . at least this time any argument they might have will remain private, this time. In the meantime, Dormé can always continue to make herself useful by seeing to it that proper preparations to house Lady Sabé and all of the handmaidens in training and former handmaidens who continue to serve not by actively guarding Milady but by training up her newest handmaidens and/or the handmaidens serving both the new Queen of Naboo and the Princess of Theed are, at the very least, begun. And, of course, if Anakin is about, then perhaps she can see about having that conversation about Milady Padmé and Lady Sabé and Master Kenobi, like she’s been meaning to do ever since she Joané told her about the conversation she overheard between Padmé and Obi-Wan, so she can do her part in seeing to it that he’s put straight about a few certain things . . .
*********
The look Anakin gives her is priceless: if she had actually been trying to make him do a spit-take, when she set out to track him down and explain how things truly are between Milady Padmé and Lady Sabé and Master Kenobi, then she would have felt utterly vindicated. As it is, though, Dormé merely sighs and waits calmly for him to stop sputtering and choking on his drink and indicate that he knows she’s serious about what she’s just told him. It takes several moments, but finally he manages to stop coughing over the juice he’s clearly quite painfully inhaled in his surprise over her words enough to demand, “Are you serious?!”
“Completely. They grew up together, you know. Their families used to regularly expect to hear news that they’d found a third and were planning a formal pledging of three. You know that Nabooian law recognizes a citizen’s right to contract with both a wedded partner, by handfasting or marriage, and a consort, so long as the consort agrees to contract with both partners. Such an arrangement isn’t that unusual: I’m told there were even some preliminary arrangements made, regarding where the ceremony would take place and the type of vows that would be exchanged, when it finally happened. Padmé and Sabé quarreled, though, when Padmé became Queen and Sabé insisted not only on starting up the handmaiden program again but on being her primary decoy, too, since she was a least have responsible for the creation of Amidala to begin with. No one who knew them from before Padmé was elected Queen really expected it to last. It probably wouldn’t have lasted, either, if not for the fact that they not only found and lost the only third they truly desired and would have been willing to put aside or give up anything to have but that necessity also demanded their parting, with Sabé on Coruscant acting as interim and then elected Senator and Padmé on Naboo, ruling as Queen. They still love each other, though, and it is a foolish being who thinks to break that bond or otherwise interfere with it. In any case, I doubt you’d be very happy as a substitute for your own Master, even if Milady might be willing to distract herself by having a fling with you. Don’t be too disappointed about the way things are turning out, with Milady staying here. It’s probably for the best. She might care for you, Anakin, but I can assure you that she would never truly be in love with you.”
Anakin looks stricken. “I hadn’t - I didn’t - I never knew! Padmé and Sabé and - and - ”
“Master Kenobi, if only his vows to the Jedi Order would permit him to truly return their affections,” she completes his stuttering sentence, coolly matter of fact. “Since they will not, they are both determined never to settle for having anyone else, either. He is their shared fíor grá-mór and cariad o’nhgariad and it is widely assumed among Milady’s household that, when Master Kenobi is finally forced to make his decision to leave the Order, he will lawfully become the third binding them together.”
Anakin - who had been pouring over the monitors for the security cams when she found him - curls in upon himself, slouching down in his chair as if he’d like to be able to curl down small enough to vanish entirely. “How much of a fool have I made of myself?” he asks, sounding remarkably like a chastened and terrified child.
Dormé gives him a small, reassuring smile. “Only a little, kalal. Master Kenobi frets because he knows you so well, and I certainly know you well enough that I thought I should speak with you about this. But Milady hasn’t even realized and likely wouldn’t’ve, if Obi-Wan hadn’t said something unmistakable about it to her, until you finally got around to essentially propositioning her.”
“I would never - !”
She cuts him off before he can finish framing the protest, though, her voice gentle but firm. “Anakin. A great deal of your sense of self-worth is tied up in the way others view you, because you were once owned property. That isn’t your fault, precisely, but it is a potential danger. If Milady had actually agreed to go into hiding on Naboo, you might very well have done so, if you thought it was the best or the only way to get her to truly acknowledge you, as an individual person and not just the former child slave who helped her on Tatooine, received his freedom for that help, and so helped her again, on Naboo, out of thanks for that boon. I know you, kalal. Your pride would have driven you to try to do it, if nothing else.”
“I’m not - I don’t - I’m - I’m sorry. You must think I’m an awful person!”
“No, kalal, not awful at all. Just hurt by the way you’ve been treated and a little confused, that’s all. You’re a good person, Anakin. That’s why I wanted to warn you, before you could say or do anything . . . rash.”
His voice is so small that it hurts her to hear him. “You don’t hate me?”
Warmly, she immediately insists, “No, ma’chara. I could never hate you.”
“Obi-Wan - Master isn’t . . . he’s not angry?”
“Maybe a little, with Milady, for being careless of your feelings.”
“Is she angry with me, do you know?”
“More angry at herself, I think. She hates to disappoint Bendu Kenobi.”
“She really loves him? And Sabé?”
“Very much so, to Master Kenobi’s continual regret and dismay. He hates to hurt them, you see, because he does, honestly, care about them both, but he cannot yet be what they want, to them, and also remain what he is. I suspect he’s avoided speaking of these things to you because he doesn’t want you to think that his obligation to you is what keeps him from them.”
His laugh is bitter, ragged, painfully jagged as a handful of shattered glass. “It isn’t? Are you sure of that?”
“Oh, Anakin! Of course not! You know your Master adores you and you know how much it means to him, to be a Jedi. He loves what he is and what he does, and he loves you. The Order would either have to completely reorganize itself and begin advocating that its members marry and raise families of their own, before he would ever consider taking them up on their standing offer, or else things would have to get so bad that it would no longer be a question of trying to determine whether or not it were the will of the Force directing him or just his own desire to stop hurting Milady Padmé and Lady Sabé, for him to revoke the vows tying him to the Order and keeping him from them. You know he’s also vowed to a life of complete chastity and has used the Force upon himself to enforce that vow, don’t you? I’m told he made the decision as a child in the Temple crèche.”
“I - I hadn’t know,” Anakin stammers, clearly flabbergasted by the notion. “He never said. I didn’t even know you could do that, with the Force!”
“Well, I,” Dormé hesitates, more than a little startled by Anakin’s admission, for a few moments not sure what she should say to him. “I’m sure he has his reasons for not talking about it. It’s probably not considered proper to discuss, in the Order. They might believe it encourages arrogance, or some such nonsense.”
Grimly, Anakin agrees, “That sounds like something the High Council would claim.”
“Well, then, there you go. You know how much he worries about the Council’s dislike of you. He’d never want to give them an excuse to try to take you away from him.”
Anakin’s gaze slides past her, his expression suddenly remote, his eyes distant. “Force, I’m a fool, aren’t I?” he breathes, shaking his head a little.
Gently, Dormé points out, “No more than any of the rest of us, dearest. We’re all shaped by our individual upbringing and the forces surrounding us, whether we necessarily want to be or not. I wouldn’t feel too embarrassed or upset about it, kalal.”
Anakin’s shoulders sag, and he looks down at his feet, flushing as he mumbles, “As long as you’re sure you don’t hate me, sakiana.”
His pain and uncertainty hurt her so much that she’s reached out to him before she even knows that the thought has crossed her mind to move, impulsively fitting her right hand around the curve of his cheek, sliding her fingertips down around his jaw to tilt his head up, so that he has to look at her. “I could never hate you, Anakin Skywalker. Never.”
Anakin’s smile is as sudden and as blazingly bright as the sun, reappearing after a long storm, and she once again finds herself blinking, as if to chase away the dazzle of sun specks from her eyes. “Then I promise I will never doubt you again, Dormé.”
She makes herself smile back playfully, adopting a teasing tone. “I should hope not! Silly man. Come on, kalal. It’s getting fairly late in the day. Let’s get some lunch, before your stomach starts rumbling at you again.”
Anakin grins at her, a mixture of sheepishness and gratefulness and restored good humor and just plain happiness, and slides out of the chair to accompany her up to the kitchen. Dormé smiles in return, lets him take her hand and fold her left arm around the crook of his right arm, and allows herself to revel for a few quiet moments in the warm glow of satisfaction, unutterably glad that she’s finally gotten this particularly conversation out of the way and that it’s gone as well as it has. With any luck at all, things will continue to go well, and the second assassin will be found quickly and she and Anakin will be able to return to Coruscant after no more than a day or so on Naboo, and the question proposed Military Creation Act will be settled and no longer weigh so heavily on Milady’s mind . . .
*********
Series Title: Becoming Love: I, In You
*Story Title: The Rise of the Clone Wars
*Tentative/working title only - subject to change, as I’m not sure I like it!
Pairing: Mainly Dormékin with some background Sobidala (Sabé/Obi-Wan/Padmé Amidala).
*Rating: Uhm, probably a borderline PG-13/R-ish, overall, maybe (?)
*This may be subject to change, in a few very specific later parts.
Disclaimer: I do not own the lovely boys and girls from Star Wars, more's the pity! What I do have is an extremely contrary muse that refuses to shut up and leave me alone (or to make up its bloody mind about certain things) . . .
Summary: What if Senator Padmé Amidala had refused to go into hiding on Naboo, during the events of AotC and a scheme were instead hatched that involved sending Dormé Tammesin (the Senator's only surviving handmaiden on Coruscant who’d been trained as a decoy) into hiding as Amidala, with Anakin Skywalker to accompany and protect her, while Obi-Wan Kenobi went searching for the individual(s) responsible for the attempts on the Senator’s life and the first of the Senator's decoys (now one of the primary trainers of her new handmaidens), Sabé Dahn, brought her newest students to Coruscant to help Jedi Knights Siri Tachi and Garen Muln in their new assignment to hide and protect Padmé, while she remained on Coruscant to covertly continue the fight against the passing of the Military Creation Act? What, then, might have followed . . . and how would events have turned out differently than in the film saga? Dormékin AU of AotC!
Author’s Warnings: 1.) Please see the Author’s Warnings for the preface and prologue and first chapter of this story, as they continue to hold true pretty much throughout the rest of the story!
2.) Again, this story does not have a beta - I’ve proof-read and checked the grammar, but I won’t swear that there aren’t any typos! I will be happy to fix any errors that are pointed out to me!
Author’s Notes: 1.) Please see the Author’s Notesfor the preface and prologue and first chapter of this story, as they continue to hold true pretty much throughout the rest of the story!
2.) Please keep in mind that some of the scenes in this work are going to be deliberately modelled after scenes in AotC (specifically the novelization of AotC by R. A. Salvatore), especially near the start of the story!
3.) Again, I have a journal entry with a running list of costumes/images that work as "illustrations" for much of this story, a more complete/updated version of which can now be found at http://polgarawolf.livejournal.com/136333.html and, when the story is completely done, I will likely go back and either create specific entries with links for each chapter or include the proper information on costumes and such for each chapter in that chapter post.
Star Wars
Becoming Love: I, In You
The Rise of the Clone Wars
Chapter Five: A Slight Change in Plans
1,000:05:18 After Ruusan Reformations (25,001 After Republic’s Founding), 18 days prior to the Battle of Geonosis
Fighting against universal forces, though instinctual, is often foolhardy.
- Ancient saying attributed to the Bendu monks
Master Kenobi actually returns to Milady’s apartments without his Padawan learner in tow, and so all Dormé has to do, to see to it that her orders are carried out, is to let him in to see Padmé and then wait for Anakin to show up and keep him from interrupting the conversation that Milady and the Bendu Knight might still be having. Depending on how long it takes Anakin to follow his Master in, she can either distract him with the promise of another meal and a strong hint that Milady is sleeping and his Master has already secured the premises again or else pull him aside for a discussion regarding the change in plans that Milady will have already proceeded to impress most deeply upon Master Kenobi and the High Council Masters.
Which is precisely how Dormé ends up back in one of the kitchens with Anakin a little over an hour after Obi-Wan Kenobi has headed off to Milady’s private quarters, clad in an ever so slightly darker version of the gown she’d worn to meet Milady on her arrival on Coruscant, sipping a cup of wake-tea and picking at a couple of breakfast scones while Anakin methodically devours a plate full of food and awkwardly tries to apologize for his brusqueness earlier. “You’re sure your arm is alright? I honestly didn’t mean to push you as hard as I did. I just needed to get past you and I wanted to make sure someone was going to see to Padmé and there was really no time to talk. It gave me an awful fright, seeing Obi-Wan go through the window like that, and all I could think of was that I had to get out there, so I could find him and catch him, if the droid shook him loose and he started to fall,” Anakin explains with a surprisingly nonsheepish tone of voice, his manner more matter of fact than truly embarrassed, if clearly also regretful of any harm he might’ve accidentally caused her.
Dormé just sighs and takes another drink of her soothingly hot tea. “I’m fine, Anakin, truly. You could have been a bit more careful with Milady - she nearly tumbled across the bed and into the floor - but we both know you were only trying to get us both somewhere safely out of the way so you could go after Master Kenobi and the source of the danger. You were only in a hurry to help him.”
Anakin flashes her a grateful little smile. “It wasn’t a very bright thing to do. He couldn’t possibly have known he’d be able to hold on long enough for me to catch up with him. It was more like something I might have done, a few years ago, when I went through my ‘damn foolish stunts and heroics’ phase, as he called it. I thought my heart would leap out of my chest!” he then complains, smile transmuting to a sharp grimace, clearly still unnerved by the entire experience.
“He takes his protective duties seriously. And he knew you’d follow him and be there before anything bad could happen,” Dormé soothingly counters, essentially repeating what she’s already said to calm Padmé down, if with a slightly different spin. “He trusts you Anakin.”
“Then why did he have a fit when I dove out of the skimmer after the bounty hunter? It’s not like her skimmer was far enough away for me to miss!” he only irritably points out in return.
Her heart turns over painfully at the admission that the pursuit of this bounty hunter involved leaping out of moving skimmers, but she schools her face to a blankness tinged ever so slightly with amusement, rather than allow her horror to show. “Why do you want to scold him for going out the window after the droid? Same reason: it was startling as all get out and it made your heart skip at least a couple of beats, just like it likely did for him to see you jump out of the skimmer,” she points out with a small shrug.
Anakin makes a low grumbling noise but (wisely) doesn’t argue the point, aside from acerbically pointing out, “At least I knew he was right there where he could get to me easily, if anything went wrong.”
She refrains from rolling her eyes (just!) by changing the subject, asking, “I wonder how the other bounty hunter kept his presence masked. Neither of you sensed him, did you?”
Anakin shrugs casually. “Too much ambient noise with nasty overtones. Nearly everyone at that level has thoughts and goals in mind that are less than repeatable in polite company. And whoever or whatever else it was, it was a professional. He or she or it probably was focused on aiming, rather than the act of shooting and killing. Even when you’re listening for trouble, it can be next to impossible to sift anything out that’s really useful in time to do anything besides react, in a crush like that, if the being in question is focused on some specific process rather than on mayhem or murder in general,” he explains. “If the bounty hunter hadn’t had that jet pack, we still could have gotten him. Or her. Or whatever it was. Master thinks it was a man, but then, he thought the changeling was a man, too, at first, and she definitely turned out to be a she, so Force alone only knows what the second one is. With all that armor, it really wasn’t possible to tell for sure, though I agree the armor definitely suggests a Mando.”
“I thought the Mandalorians were all wiped out on Galidraan a few decades ago.”
“True Mandalorians only, and there were actually a couple of survivors, though I hear that didn’t keep Master Dooku from throwing an absolute fit about the mission - not that I can really blame him. I would’ve been pissed off, too, if I’d been tricked into being the cause of a massacre of virtual innocents, when it was the politicians and his Death Watch hirelings who’d done all the wrong. Besides, there’s always some Mando around. All you have to do is agree to live by their code, to become one. They’re like Jedi, that way. It makes them next to impossible to ever really completely wipe out,” he replies with another loose shrug.
“Oh.” Dormé frowns, feeling as if they’re somehow both missing something obvious. “Wait a moment, Master Dooku? Count Yannis Dooku of Serenno?”
“Uhm, yeah. Why?”
“He’s the one who’s been fighting Milady’s efforts to kill the proposed Military Creation Act! They think he may’ve had something to do with the first attack against her, on Naboo!”
“But Dooku was Qui-Gon’s Master. He left the Order because of his ideals, not because he wanted to - to - I don’t know, make the Republic go to war against itself!” Anakin protests, looking genuinely shocked by the notion that the former Jedi Master might have anything to do with the attacks on Senator Amidala.
“Says who? Your Council? Like the Council Masters pay any attention to anything outside of their ivory towers!”
Anakin puts down his fork with far more force than in necessary. “Hey! That’s Qui-Gon’s Master you’re accusing!”
She just scowls at him irritably, refusing to back down. “Well, forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but what if it’s him? What if he thinks the only way to change anything of the Republic’s ideals is to tear down the actual Republic and start over again?”
Anakin frowns darkly. “Then maybe he’s right and Padmé is on the wrong side.”
“Anakin!” she gasps, scandalized at the very thought.
“Well, sorry, but what if she is? You’re the one who told me Master argues with her about this kind of thing all the time! What if Obi-Wan and Dooku are right and that’s the only way to really fix anything and Padmé’s supporting the wrong blasted side in this?”
“That doesn’t give him the right to physically attack her, for Nisaba’s sake!”
“And what if it’s not him? Or not him directly? Dooku’s a powerful, charismatic man, from what I’ve heard. It could be one of his followers or admirers or workers can see that Padmé is on the wrong side and is capable of keeping what needs to happen from actually happening and just assumed that the bast way to serve the interests both of Dooku and the greater good was to get rid of her, you know.”
“That’s - that’s - ”
“ - something that would seem very reasonable, for a fanatic?” Anakin breaks in, raising an eyebrow at her challengingly.
Dormé just stares at him, unable to think of a way to refute his words but too horrified with the sheer plausibility of what he’s proposing to be able to really accept the argument either. “That’s monstrous,” she finally whispers, utterly aghast. “Surely Milady - ”
Anakin just tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “Have you ever really stopped to think what it is that she’s protecting versus what it is that she believes she’s protecting? Has anyone besides Obi-Wan ever tried to talk to her about the gap between the two things? My Master’s a good person and he’s extremely intelligent, but his arguments . . . sometimes he just comes off wrong, you know? The kind of wrong where a body wants to argue against him just because he makes so much sense that it’s kind of scary and you’re afraid that he just might be right.”
“I don’t - I’m not - Anakin, now you’re the one who’s giving me a headache!”
“Sorry. It’s just, if Obi-Wan’s working his way up to a decision, I want it to be the right one. And I want all of you to make that decision with us,” is Anakin’s entirely too fervent reply.
Dormé shakes her head sharply, turning away from that pleading, serious, passionate gaze and refusing to make eye contact. “It would be up to Milady and Queen Jamillia - ”
“You shouldn’t let them make up your mind for you, Dormé. Especially not if you can see where they might be wrong. Isn’t Sabé always saying - ”
“Lady Sabé agrees with Master Kenobi. She tried to talk Milady out of her stance against the Military Creation Act. She thinks if it ends up coming down to a fight, the so-called Republic will start conscripting soldiers from the Expansionary Regions on outwards and make the Jedi their generals and their shock troops. Milady says it will never happen - she refuses to believe the democratic spirit of the Republic has fallen so far that it could happen, just as she refuses to believe the Republic would have done nothing to help Naboo, if matters hadn’t fallen out as they did - but I fear Sabé may be right. Did you know Chandrila and Alderaan have been stockpiling weapons and ships and medicinals, ever since the Trade Federation’s occupation of Naboo? Even the Crown Prince of Alderaan agrees something awful is coming, and Bail’s usually so optimistic that he makes Milady look cynical! He and his sister have been talking with Queen Jamillia about the growing refugee problem, from troubles spreading inward from the Outer Rim Territories, and I think they’ve nearly convinced her that just creating another, more galactic-wide organization for disaster relief isn’t going to be enough. But Anakin, the Separatists - the people supporting Dooku - it’s mostly corporations like the Trade Federation, not the residents of worlds being harmed by the Republic’s growing corruption!”
“Sometimes the right thing gets done for the wrong reason,” Anakin only shrugs cynically in reply. “That doesn’t make the result of the action wrong. It just makes it . . . less agreeable.”
“I don’t think I like where you’re going with this. The Trade Federation was working with at least one Sith Lord that we know of, during the invasion of Naboo, and - ”
“Or maybe they were duped into invading by a Sith’s machinations and had no idea who they were working with or doing a favor for or why seizing Naboo might help to advance a Sith’s plans!” he quickly counters.
“And maybe they’re being duped into helping the other Sith Lord still!”
“Or maybe the Sith is using them to give the idea of needing to change the way the Republic does things a bad rap, to keep people from noticing how bad things are really getting! Maybe the idea is to make them a kind of scapegoat - ”
“And maybe the Sith is someone in power who benefitted from Naboo’s invasion and would benefit from a civil war! Ever think of that?” Dormé interrupts to waspishly demand.
With disarming earnestness, Anakin replies, “Constantly. Obi-Wan’s always thought we should have gone looking for the second Sith, after Naboo, instead of just letting the matter drop. He’s made inquiries about it himself and tried to figure out who it could be, but the thing is, there were a lot of beings who could have benefitted, if the conflict had dragged on longer than it did.”
Scowling, she starts to point out, “You know, your friend, the Chancellor - ”
With the kind of huffy irritability of one who’s gotten so used to defending a disreputable friend that further complaints about said friend are no longer really listened to, Anakin irately snaps, “I thinks someone would notice if the Supreme Chancellor were a Sith Lord, Dormé!”
“And I think someone would notice if we were being set up to support the wrong blasted side in a potential civil war! So I guess that means we’re back to square one!” she snaps back, not bothering to hide an iota of her frustration with him.
“If you’re Padmé and I’m Obi-Wan, I guess we are!” Anakin half shouts and half pouts at her, in response.
She glares at him for several moments before the absurdity of the situation and the aptness of the comparison really sinks in, and then reluctantly finds herself grinning at him. “We do sound rather like them, don’t we? Only not nearly so calm.”
A small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Anakin posits, “Maybe we should leave the arguing to them, then.”
“Maybe. Come on. Let’s go see how things are going with your Master, shall we? He may have news for us regarding the next step Milady wishes to take,” she offers, seeing that he’s basically cleaned his plate and hoping that the news Master Kenobi will most likely have to share will keep Anakin too occupied to pick another fight with her.
Anakin grins, nods easy agreement, and pushes himself to his feet, following her lead.
Less than five minutes later, she’s already bitterly regretting her decision to seek out the Bendu Knight, for he’s still in Milady’s private quarters, and Milady is in the process of having an almost vicious fight with Lady Sabé regarding her decision to defy the schemes of the High Council Masters and remain on Coruscant for the vote, the arguing so fraught with tension and with emotion that Anakin automatically abandons Dormé to moves swiftly over to Obi-Wan’s side, where both of the Jedi look increasingly painfully out of place and discomforted with the situation, shrinking in upon themselves as though trying to make themselves too small to be noticed by anyone.
“I will not! I refuse to allow my life, my actions, to be dictated by such cowards! I will not run away and cower in hiding every time some greedy corporation or disgruntled political rival thinks to hire some bully boys to try to frighten me into a new course of action!” Padmé thunders at the active holocomm receiver/transmitter, oddly beautiful in her affront, shining in her pale nightgown like a force of nature or a living manifestation of the Lady Nisaba Herself.
If Padmé is like an avatar of the Great Lady, then Sabé is her twin, equally ferocious in her frustrated protectiveness and equally breathtaking, despite being present only via hologram and in a pale nightdress and embroidered dressing gown, dark hair pulled back haphazardly from her face, disheveled dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. “These are professional assassins and bounty hunters, Padmé, not some random hooligans from the streets! You have a duty to - ”
“I have a duty to see this bill through to the vote, Sabé! I cannot just pack up and go home because of what’s being seen as a few minor incidents! What will the other Senators think, but that I have admitted defeat or that I am too frightened to stand up for my beliefs, if I were to do so? I refuse to do any such thing! I will not pander to the flawed assumption that sufficient might and force is the answer! You cannot ask me to go so contrary to my nature, in this!”
“I ask you to do the responsible thing and return home, where you can be more sure of your safety without requiring extra guards, so that the Jedi will be able to focus all of their considerable energies on quickly getting the job done and finding the culprits ultimately responsible for these attacks, so that you may then safely return here in time for the vote!” Sabé very nearly shouts in return, clearly infuriated by Padmé’s stubbornness. “And I would have expected better from you, of all people! An explosion that claims the lives of two of your best decoys and another twenty-six of your handmaidens is certainly no mere ‘minor’ incident!”
Padmé flushes a painfully embarrassed shade of vivid red and then goes stark white, a shade so bloodlessly pale that Dormé knows there is about to be real trouble. “I take the loss of any life as no mere minor incident, as you should well know, which is precisely why I refuse to be intimidated into abandoning my duties here! Cordé, Versé, and the others all gave their lives so that I could return to Coruscant to be present for the voting on this proposed bill. I will not dishonor their sacrifices in order to turn about and flee back to Naboo like a whipped cur with my tail between my legs mere days before the issue is bound to come to a vote! And I am amazed that you, a former Queen’s First, could ever support such a thing!”
Sabé looks as though she is torn between screaming in sheer frustration or else bursting into tears. “Padmé, for Asherah’s sake - !”
“No. You must make other arrangements. Uproot the training school and come here yourself, if you must, but here I am and here I shall surely remain, until this issue has been decided by the Senate!”
When Padmé has whirled about and stalked out of the room and the Jedi have exchanged wide-eyed glances and departed as well at something more closely resembling a quick trot than their usual temperate and graceful glide, Sabé utters a string of curses in Nabooian and Uriashian so vile that Dormé feels as if her cheeks might blister from the heat of her blushes. Hesitantly, she draws attention to herself by starting to ask, “Lady Sabé, if you wish, I could ask Master Kenobi to try to - ”
“Don’t bother. When she is like this, nothing short of force can sway her. It appears as though you’re going to be called on to act as decoy for Milady one more time after all, Dormé. They’re going to have to at least appear to send a Padmé Amidala away from Coruscant under Jedi guard, for her own safety, if that little fool expects to live long enough to see that damned vote, and, since she refuses to be the one to go, I fear that leaves only you. I’m sorry, m’éadáil oileanach. I know you thought you were done with this part of the job, but none of the girls with you now are practiced enough to carry a deception of this nature off and unfortunately we simply cannot be there quickly enough to make a switch or else I would volunteer myself. They shall have to either split up the Team or else find someone else to send back with you. Either way, I expect another Master-Padawan pair will likely be assigned to Milady, at least until we can get there. You’ll likely end up coming back here with Anakin, while Obi-Wan hunts down this second bounty hunter. I trust this will not be a problem for you?”
“No, Lady Sabé. Anakin and I get along quite well. We . . . understand each other.”
“Good girl.” A ghost of a smile flickers across Sabé’s flower-like face. “I always said you were the most flexible of us all. Thank you for once again proving me correct. I am going to comm Obi-Wan and see about comming the Council Masters, to see about apologizing for this mess. I would avoid speaking to Padmé for at least an hour or so, if I were you. Attend to the wardrobe instead - see if there is ought in her cases that will fit you, until you reach Naboo.”
“Of course, Lady Sabé. Honor to serve.”
She sighs, quirks her lips in a wry little smile, and then nods, acknowledging, “Heart and soul to serve, m’éadáil oileanach. Until we meet again.”
The blue-tinged hologram flickers off and Dormé allows herself the luxury of a groan as she sinks down in the nearest chair, rubbing soothing circles around her temples in an attempt to stave off the massive headache she can feel coming on. Given what she recalls of the contents of Milady’s wardrobe, she’s soon groaning again, even more loudly, after which she sighs loudly, in resignation. She is not only taller than Padmé but also ever so slightly longer through the torso, meaning that it is not all that likely that any of those ornate senatorial costumes are going to fit her all that terribly well. Yet, needs must, and, though she may well be in some sort of disguise during her actual departure from Coruscant for Naboo, she is likely still going to have to present herself to Queen Jamillia as if she were Padmé Amidala. And sitting and groaning over the prospect of trying to find properly fitting garb isn’t going to help resolve matters any, so . . . with another deep sigh, she pushes herself back to her feet.
A brief flicker of a smile ghosts across Dormé’s lips as it occurs to her that this, at least, is a task that will doubtlessly keep her far too busy to attempt to speak to Milady any time soon, within the next several hours, and then she turns, with an air of resignation, towards the room in Milady’s suite where most of her clothing is being stored, grimly determined to do what she can and to call in the seamstress Padmé keeps on retainer, while in residence on Coruscant, to make some hasty alterations to a few dresses, if necessary. A departure gown, most likely at least three to five days travel time to Naboo, a formal gown for visiting the Queen, to keep her properly in the loop, clothing for what will likely (unfortunately) be an unavoidable (and most probably uncomfortable) trip to the Naberrie household, travel clothes for Varykino . . . Lady bless, this may actually take all day! Shaking her head, she reaches for her private comlink and signals for the other girls to come and attend her, so that things may perhaps go more swiftly (or at least more smoothly, with more hands present to help), hunting out the second of her private comlinks (for the world beyond the apartment complex and Milady’s staff) as she goes, so that she can go ahead and call in Mistress Elseida, for those alterations . . .
*********
Elseida Navrielle is a protégée of Fé Gélètánine, the primary dressmaker in charge of the wardrobes of both Padmé Amidala and her handmaidens ever since the earliest days of Queen Amidala’s first term. A woman of exceptional taste, skill, courage, and loyalty (stories are still told on Naboo of the daring Fé and her apprentice, Gilliarc Nócrydden, who dressed themselves as handmaidens during the invasion in order to provide a distraction while the Princess of Theed and her handmaiden coterie attempted to flee the Palace, and how Gilliarc became so good at impersonating a woman that even former handmaidens Essé Seltrin and Rosé Ganesa mistook him for one of the Queen’s handmaidens in training), Fé, along with her various apprentices, has largely been responsible for clothing all of Milady Amidala’s household for so long and she and her students have all been so unflinchingly loyal that her latest protégée, Elseida, is one of the few individuals outside of the Jedi High Council and Milady’s own household who can be safely trusted with the information that, while it may appear to be Padmé Amidala who will soon be returning to Naboo, it will in fact be Dormé Tammesin who will be departing while the Senator herself remains on Coruscant. Though Elseida somehow manages to be both blunter and less diplomatic and yet also somewhat flightier than Fé, she is a genius of a designer with a talent for creating both overwhelmingly rich, gorgeous costumes for the likes of a Queen or a Senator and unremarkable yet all but shockingly protective and functional uniforms for handmaidens.
A thin, pale girl of slightly greater than average height with perpetually frazzled dark curly hair, mild blue eyes, and a mostly unremarkable roundish oval face, aside from a slightly overlarge nose, who (as she has been known to say many times) would have been quite ravishing instead of rather plain if only her eyes had been more widely spaced apart and her mouth were approximately half again the size that it is, Elseida arrives promptly at five o’clock (despite the short notice and the extremely early hour) with what looks to be at least a fifth of the contents of her store in raw materials piled high on some portable repulsorlifts, passes a cursory glance over the contents of Milady’s extensive wardrobe, tells Joané Aldon to make herself useful and fetch her a cup and a carafe of hot caf, orders the other girls to help her set up what amounts to another room within the larger chamber, consisting of a circle of tall, linked mirrors, and then cheerfully orders Dormé to step within the mirrors and strip so she can confirm her measurements, so that she’ll know precisely what it is that she’s going to be working with. Though it has been some time since Dormé has subjected herself to the critical gaze of anyone other than either one of her teachers or her personal healer, she allows herself to be herded inside the mirrored cage and strips down, allowing Elseida to measure here and there with an impersonal touch and drape bolts of various cloth over her shoulders so as to study the lie of it.
“If you were going to be taller than normal, then you could’ve stood to be taller still,” Elseida grumbles irritably at one point. “Such height would make for a better line. But you are in excellent shape and proportioned well. And Milady is, after all, somewhat petite. Alright, then. Put your clothes back on, and I’ll tell you what I think.”
“I’m not sure if there’ll be enough time for you to create anything new between now and whenever I have to leave, but any help you can give will be greatly appreciated, given how much taller I am now than Milady,” Dormé politely notes, allowing Joané and a few of the other girls to help her redress so that no time will be wasted.
“You’re lucky, though. Everything is made to order to be adjustable for her decoys, none of whom currently have her exact measurements, and she generally favors gowns that lack set waists, which means that the differences in the lines of your torso and the size of your breasts should be fairly negligible, and most if not all of the difference in height from your longer legs can be camouflaged either by choosing gowns that either have trains or skirts meant to pool on the floor at least a little or else by letting some hems down and adding some ruffled trims to the skirts of whichever other gowns you might wish to borrow.”
“And she will have most of two days in which to work - all of the rest of this day and no less than half of tomorrow, since I will not allow them to rush into sending you back to Naboo. Since these costumes will not have to stand up to the scrutiny of the Senate, she can forgo many of the elaborations she would add by hand, which will save quite a bit on time and effort.”
Dormé startles, despite herself, not expecting Milady to have recovered sufficiently from her passionate argument with Lady Sabé to yet take an interest in the necessity of putting together a wardrobe capable of allowing Dormé to pass as Amidala. “Milady.” She curtsies automatically, slightly flustered, not entirely sure what to say and not exactly sure that Padmé’s apparent calm will hold, if pushed too far, especially given the presence of a certain active holocomm unit in the room, projecting the blue-tinged image of a quiet Lady Sabé (called on to participate in the consult, given her extensive experience as Amidala’s decoy).
“I should have expected you would already be organizing the necessary details.” Padmé’s smile is perhaps a little strained around the edges, but the warmth in it is genuine enough. “You always have had a gift for organization.” Turning slightly towards the waiting dressmaker, she firmly notes, “Mistress Elseida, I wish you to spare no expense in the creation of this wardrobe for my loyal handmaiden. I understand that your work is going to be rushed, but I insist that you bring in further assistants if necessary. Dormé deserves no less than the very best.”
“A day and a half and all of my assistants to work, and I wager even you will be startled to see what can be accomplished, Milady,” Elseida declares, her mouth quirking in a small half smile as she drops Padmé an informal nod. “I approve of your headpiece, by the way. If you’re going to be trying to lay low while you’re still here, pretending to be one of your handmaidens, you should consider breaking out the gowns that have coordinating veils or matching wimples. And I’d advise the same for your Sabé, if she’s going to be joining you here.”
“I appreciate the suggestion, Mistress. I’ll see to it that the suggestion is passed along.” Padmé tilts her head at Joané, who takes the cue to withdraw and see to it that the suggestion is indeed passed along. “If there are any gowns here that you need to have access to, to modify for Dormé, please, feel free to take them with you. I would only ask that you avoid taking any of the gowns that have coordinating or matching veils or wimples, as I intend to take your advice.”
“As you will,” Elseida shrugs, making a careless gesture, and the nods in easy agreement. “I doubt I’ll need any of them, anyway: there are enough gowns here with trains and with hems low enough and elaborate enough that the addition of another ruffle or some lace won’t hurt anything, and Dormé shouldn’t be close enough to anyone who’d be able to tell it isn’t really you and wouldn’t already know why it’s not you to need veiling anyway.”
“Good. Concentrate on the gowns most suitable for a Senator. If possible, try to aim for enough costumes for at least a month. We have no way of knowing yet how long we will have to keep this deception in play or whether or not Dormé may be called upon to participate in various holocomm communications while pretending to be me, and she can, after all, always borrow less formal gowns from among my things at home or at Varykino, once she is on Naboo,” Padmé quietly but firmly orders.
“As you wish. That should be doable. Just make sure you make proper arrangements to pack and ship everything, when you’re making travel arrangements. These won’t precisely be the kinds of things one can just cram into a single carry-on valise,” Elseida warns.
Padmé inclines her head graciously. “Of course. Proper arrangements will be made, never you fear. That is part of the reason why Dormé and Anakin will not be leaving until no earlier than tomorrow afternoon.”
“If I may,” Sabé quietly interjects, her voice calm but also oddly flat and toneless, as if she were repressing all of her emotions in order to avoid exploding into another furious tirade of arguing, “allow me to suggest that Dormé travel as a young matron of the Thousand Moons system. You do still have those disguises with you, Milady, don’t you?”
“Four of them, yes,” is Padmé’s coolly stiff response. “The gold and deep yellow and burgundy with orichalc costume; the bright salmon-red and dark burgundy with electrum; the green and black with kelsh metal; and the pale pink and salmon rose with gold. She’ll likely have to wear at least one of them twice. It generally takes a full week, if not more than five days, for commercial transportation that is not individually chartered to travel the hyperspace route from Coruscant to Naboo, and we will not be chartering personal transportation, since we are trying to convince anyone watching that I am being secretly sent back to Naboo for my own safety.”
Sabé makes a point of shrugging and casually continuing to paint her toenails. “Our transportation to Coruscant has already been arranged. The girls are packing now. It should take about two and a half or three days for us to get to you. You will wait for us to arrive before you attempt anything, won’t you?” she asks, arching an eyebrow pointedly.
“I doubt Obi-Wan will leave until after you have arrived,” Padmé nonchalantly replies, the edges of her mouth curving slightly, as if amused by the Jedi Bendu’s protectiveness.
“Then we’ll all be able to wish him luck on his search for the second bounty hunter.”
Padmé inclines her head ever so slightly, the slight curve to her mouth deepening infinitesimally. “Indeed.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure that’s all quite lovely. But I’m afraid, ladies, that I need to be getting some of these things back to my shop. So if some of you lovely handmaidens can help me gather things up. . . ?” Elseida breaks in after several long moments in which Padmé and Sabé simply gaze silently at each other, identical small smiles blossoming slowly across their faces in almost eerie synchronicity.
Dormé and Joané automatically jump to help Elseida and a small gesture from Dormé quickly brings the other handmaidens forward so that soon all of them are rapidly and efficiently moving around the room, gathering and packing items away at Elseida’s direction. Dormé, torn between nodding in gleeful approval (she does favor vivid shades of red, though unfortunately she isn’t able to wear such bold hues all that often) and protesting that Milady doesn’t frequently wear such bright, attention-grabbing shades of red, outside of the Nabooian royal court, keeps her mouth determinedly shut, for fear of seeming to doubt Elseida’s either taste or her knowledge of Milady’s usual wardrobe and causing the woman to lose her surprisingly agreeable demeanor. With all of them working together, it takes surprisingly little time to pack everything Elseida has brought with her and all of the garments she wishes to take with her onto the repulsorlifts she’s brought along. With another slight gesture, Dormé allows Elseida to guide the heavily laden repulsorlifts out of the room and carefully herds all of the handmaidens out afterwards, closing the door behind them softly.
With any luck at all, Padmé and Sabé will take advantage of the privacy to at least begin to make up again, after their vicious argument, and she and the other handmaidens will be able to stop worrying about Padmé taking it in to her head to do something insanely dangerous, just to prove a point to everyone who’d rather send her back to Naboo to hide instead of just a decoy. And if not, well . . . at least this time any argument they might have will remain private, this time. In the meantime, Dormé can always continue to make herself useful by seeing to it that proper preparations to house Lady Sabé and all of the handmaidens in training and former handmaidens who continue to serve not by actively guarding Milady but by training up her newest handmaidens and/or the handmaidens serving both the new Queen of Naboo and the Princess of Theed are, at the very least, begun. And, of course, if Anakin is about, then perhaps she can see about having that conversation about Milady Padmé and Lady Sabé and Master Kenobi, like she’s been meaning to do ever since she Joané told her about the conversation she overheard between Padmé and Obi-Wan, so she can do her part in seeing to it that he’s put straight about a few certain things . . .
*********
The look Anakin gives her is priceless: if she had actually been trying to make him do a spit-take, when she set out to track him down and explain how things truly are between Milady Padmé and Lady Sabé and Master Kenobi, then she would have felt utterly vindicated. As it is, though, Dormé merely sighs and waits calmly for him to stop sputtering and choking on his drink and indicate that he knows she’s serious about what she’s just told him. It takes several moments, but finally he manages to stop coughing over the juice he’s clearly quite painfully inhaled in his surprise over her words enough to demand, “Are you serious?!”
“Completely. They grew up together, you know. Their families used to regularly expect to hear news that they’d found a third and were planning a formal pledging of three. You know that Nabooian law recognizes a citizen’s right to contract with both a wedded partner, by handfasting or marriage, and a consort, so long as the consort agrees to contract with both partners. Such an arrangement isn’t that unusual: I’m told there were even some preliminary arrangements made, regarding where the ceremony would take place and the type of vows that would be exchanged, when it finally happened. Padmé and Sabé quarreled, though, when Padmé became Queen and Sabé insisted not only on starting up the handmaiden program again but on being her primary decoy, too, since she was a least have responsible for the creation of Amidala to begin with. No one who knew them from before Padmé was elected Queen really expected it to last. It probably wouldn’t have lasted, either, if not for the fact that they not only found and lost the only third they truly desired and would have been willing to put aside or give up anything to have but that necessity also demanded their parting, with Sabé on Coruscant acting as interim and then elected Senator and Padmé on Naboo, ruling as Queen. They still love each other, though, and it is a foolish being who thinks to break that bond or otherwise interfere with it. In any case, I doubt you’d be very happy as a substitute for your own Master, even if Milady might be willing to distract herself by having a fling with you. Don’t be too disappointed about the way things are turning out, with Milady staying here. It’s probably for the best. She might care for you, Anakin, but I can assure you that she would never truly be in love with you.”
Anakin looks stricken. “I hadn’t - I didn’t - I never knew! Padmé and Sabé and - and - ”
“Master Kenobi, if only his vows to the Jedi Order would permit him to truly return their affections,” she completes his stuttering sentence, coolly matter of fact. “Since they will not, they are both determined never to settle for having anyone else, either. He is their shared fíor grá-mór and cariad o’nhgariad and it is widely assumed among Milady’s household that, when Master Kenobi is finally forced to make his decision to leave the Order, he will lawfully become the third binding them together.”
Anakin - who had been pouring over the monitors for the security cams when she found him - curls in upon himself, slouching down in his chair as if he’d like to be able to curl down small enough to vanish entirely. “How much of a fool have I made of myself?” he asks, sounding remarkably like a chastened and terrified child.
Dormé gives him a small, reassuring smile. “Only a little, kalal. Master Kenobi frets because he knows you so well, and I certainly know you well enough that I thought I should speak with you about this. But Milady hasn’t even realized and likely wouldn’t’ve, if Obi-Wan hadn’t said something unmistakable about it to her, until you finally got around to essentially propositioning her.”
“I would never - !”
She cuts him off before he can finish framing the protest, though, her voice gentle but firm. “Anakin. A great deal of your sense of self-worth is tied up in the way others view you, because you were once owned property. That isn’t your fault, precisely, but it is a potential danger. If Milady had actually agreed to go into hiding on Naboo, you might very well have done so, if you thought it was the best or the only way to get her to truly acknowledge you, as an individual person and not just the former child slave who helped her on Tatooine, received his freedom for that help, and so helped her again, on Naboo, out of thanks for that boon. I know you, kalal. Your pride would have driven you to try to do it, if nothing else.”
“I’m not - I don’t - I’m - I’m sorry. You must think I’m an awful person!”
“No, kalal, not awful at all. Just hurt by the way you’ve been treated and a little confused, that’s all. You’re a good person, Anakin. That’s why I wanted to warn you, before you could say or do anything . . . rash.”
His voice is so small that it hurts her to hear him. “You don’t hate me?”
Warmly, she immediately insists, “No, ma’chara. I could never hate you.”
“Obi-Wan - Master isn’t . . . he’s not angry?”
“Maybe a little, with Milady, for being careless of your feelings.”
“Is she angry with me, do you know?”
“More angry at herself, I think. She hates to disappoint Bendu Kenobi.”
“She really loves him? And Sabé?”
“Very much so, to Master Kenobi’s continual regret and dismay. He hates to hurt them, you see, because he does, honestly, care about them both, but he cannot yet be what they want, to them, and also remain what he is. I suspect he’s avoided speaking of these things to you because he doesn’t want you to think that his obligation to you is what keeps him from them.”
His laugh is bitter, ragged, painfully jagged as a handful of shattered glass. “It isn’t? Are you sure of that?”
“Oh, Anakin! Of course not! You know your Master adores you and you know how much it means to him, to be a Jedi. He loves what he is and what he does, and he loves you. The Order would either have to completely reorganize itself and begin advocating that its members marry and raise families of their own, before he would ever consider taking them up on their standing offer, or else things would have to get so bad that it would no longer be a question of trying to determine whether or not it were the will of the Force directing him or just his own desire to stop hurting Milady Padmé and Lady Sabé, for him to revoke the vows tying him to the Order and keeping him from them. You know he’s also vowed to a life of complete chastity and has used the Force upon himself to enforce that vow, don’t you? I’m told he made the decision as a child in the Temple crèche.”
“I - I hadn’t know,” Anakin stammers, clearly flabbergasted by the notion. “He never said. I didn’t even know you could do that, with the Force!”
“Well, I,” Dormé hesitates, more than a little startled by Anakin’s admission, for a few moments not sure what she should say to him. “I’m sure he has his reasons for not talking about it. It’s probably not considered proper to discuss, in the Order. They might believe it encourages arrogance, or some such nonsense.”
Grimly, Anakin agrees, “That sounds like something the High Council would claim.”
“Well, then, there you go. You know how much he worries about the Council’s dislike of you. He’d never want to give them an excuse to try to take you away from him.”
Anakin’s gaze slides past her, his expression suddenly remote, his eyes distant. “Force, I’m a fool, aren’t I?” he breathes, shaking his head a little.
Gently, Dormé points out, “No more than any of the rest of us, dearest. We’re all shaped by our individual upbringing and the forces surrounding us, whether we necessarily want to be or not. I wouldn’t feel too embarrassed or upset about it, kalal.”
Anakin’s shoulders sag, and he looks down at his feet, flushing as he mumbles, “As long as you’re sure you don’t hate me, sakiana.”
His pain and uncertainty hurt her so much that she’s reached out to him before she even knows that the thought has crossed her mind to move, impulsively fitting her right hand around the curve of his cheek, sliding her fingertips down around his jaw to tilt his head up, so that he has to look at her. “I could never hate you, Anakin Skywalker. Never.”
Anakin’s smile is as sudden and as blazingly bright as the sun, reappearing after a long storm, and she once again finds herself blinking, as if to chase away the dazzle of sun specks from her eyes. “Then I promise I will never doubt you again, Dormé.”
She makes herself smile back playfully, adopting a teasing tone. “I should hope not! Silly man. Come on, kalal. It’s getting fairly late in the day. Let’s get some lunch, before your stomach starts rumbling at you again.”
Anakin grins at her, a mixture of sheepishness and gratefulness and restored good humor and just plain happiness, and slides out of the chair to accompany her up to the kitchen. Dormé smiles in return, lets him take her hand and fold her left arm around the crook of his right arm, and allows herself to revel for a few quiet moments in the warm glow of satisfaction, unutterably glad that she’s finally gotten this particularly conversation out of the way and that it’s gone as well as it has. With any luck at all, things will continue to go well, and the second assassin will be found quickly and she and Anakin will be able to return to Coruscant after no more than a day or so on Naboo, and the question proposed Military Creation Act will be settled and no longer weigh so heavily on Milady’s mind . . .
*********