A Parody of Manners Chapter 6: pink flamingoes. PG-13: Palpatine, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Bail, others

Aug 23, 2011 18:33





Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, and I am not making any profit from this work of fan fiction.  I am, however, having crazy fun.  Leave me some feedback and join in!

Chapter title from the song Last Friday Night, by Katy Perry.

A PARODY OF MANNERS
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 6
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pink flamingoes in the pool



Palpatine accepted Obi-Wan Kenobi’s early-morning report with equanimity, managing to look appropriately surprised in part because he had been, a few hours earlier.  Orun and Orn Free Taa was a combination not even the Dark Side had seen coming.

“And you say the young lady insists it was all entirely consensual?” he inquired mildly.

“Oh, yes.  Commander Orun is definite on that point - and anyway, I doubt there’s anyone in this house who could force her into anything.  She’s a survivor.”

So I see.  Losing Ryn early in the war would certainly have had a destabilizing effect on Anakin’s state of mind; so far, however, her skills had been proof against even Grievous’s efforts.  “So much the better,” Palpatine said aloud.  “I must admit, I shouldn’t like to think that we had put such an innocent young woman in any unnecessary danger.”  Ryn was about as innocent as a Hutt gaming table, but there was no good reason why Supreme Chancellor Palpatine should know that.  “But I feel compelled to point out, Master Kenobi, that Commander Orun’s ... willingness ... does not automatically remove Taa from suspicion.”

“No, but she’s an excellent judge of character,” said Obi-Wan stiffly.  And the young woman manifestly did not like Palpatine himself, so it might even be true.  “And she is convinced that Orn Free Taa is more of an ... opportunist ... than a sexual predator.”  Kenobi cleared his throat.  “In that case, sir, it is entirely possible that Senator Taa merely misunderstood Beiy’ssa’s own intentions.  Which would be unfortunate, but hardly criminal.”

“It would still be a violation of the Senate’s ban on fraternization.”  Palpatine pretended to consider.  “For that matter, so would his liaison with our young friend last night.”

Even Jedi training could not completely obscure the blush that spread across Kenobi’s face.  “Ryn does not work for the Senate.”

“But she must, Master Kenobi,” Palpatine said, forcing his eyes wider than they were wont to go in mimesis of earnest.  “Is she not an officer in the Grand Army of the Republic?”

Obi-Wan folded his arms in a gesture that would probably have been familiar to Anakin Skywalker; Palpatine could feel the effort he was spending to maintain his composure.  “I was under the impression that that ban was intended to protect the junior aides from the predations of their more powerful employers.”

“I must say, I should think Miss Orun would be considered very junior by anyone’s standard,” said Palpatine determinedly.  “Has she even reached her majority?”

The Jedi’s mouth tightened.  “Commander Orun is one of the most mature and responsible beings for her age I have ever met.  I trust her judgment implicitly.”

“Oh, quite,” said Palpatine quickly.  “I was merely ... I have never felt entirely comfortable with the ... youth of the active Jedi.  I was even uneasy sending your former Padawan here to Naboo last year, though you know I have the greatest confidence in Anakin.”

The way Obi-Wan’s jaw twitched suggested he had some doubts on that score as well.  Perhaps he had a better idea of what had happened here, not quite a year ago, than Palpatine had yet guessed.  “I assure you, your Excellency, the Jedi are very well attuned to the needs of their apprentices - and I will vouch for Commander Orun myself.  We never assign more than a being can handle.”

Master Kenobi, I have underestimated you.  The man was a superb liar.

“Yes, of course,” Palpatine conceded.  “Well, all we can do at this point is try to find Beiy’ssa a position in which she feels more comfortable.”

Obi-Wan bowed.  “I defer to your judgment, Chancellor.”

[~~~]

“How’re youdoing?” Anakin asked, somewhere off to her left, and Ryn shaded her eyes with one hand and squinted in his general direction as he sauntered closer.

“Hungover,” she answered.  “But okay.  You?”

Anakin drew a deep breath of the morning air, glowing with sex and satisfaction in the sunlight.  “I’m fine.”

Ryn looked him over again.  “You might want to dial it down a little,” she told him.  “A blind toad could see you got laid last night.”

“Always so genteel,” said Anakin, making Ryn snort with amusement in spite of herself, pathetically happy to be near him even if they were discussing his night with another women.

“You’re the one broadcasting,” she said, struggling to keep her cool, and when Anakin grinned back at her, she knew it was in tatters anyway.

“No one will know who it was.”

“They will if you keep staring at Padmé the way you did last night,” Ryn said, still trying to save his ass because she didn’t know how to do anything else.  “Couldn’t you play a little harder to get?”

“Padmé can have me any way she wants me,” Anakin said with cheerful conviction.

Ryn winced as her stomach lurched, churning the half-bowl of fruit and liter of caf she’d had for breakfast.  “I didn’t need to know.”

“Oh.”  Anakin’s presence was instantly contrite.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t gracious, but it was genuine; and it wasn’t Anakin’s fault, anyway, that she was hopelessly in love with him.

“It’s okay,” Ryn said, trying hard to mean it.  “Just try not to jump her in the middle of the picnic.  I think someone would notice.”

Anakin surveyed the crowd.  “I wouldn’t place any bets,” he said judiciously.  “But I’ll play it safe anyway.  Stang, what a hive.”

“They’re not the brightest lasers in the weapons bank,” Ryn said, and when Anakin looked at her funny, she shrugged.  “I’m trying on Basic vernacularisms.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Anakin said, “but I don’t think it’s working for you.”

Ryn shrugged again and went back to watching the crowd, more out of habit than because she expected anybody to stage a coup in the middle of the orchard.  She was trying to decide whether Rodian standards of dress required much less covering than was usual among humans, or the junior aide was just really keen to show her assets, when Anakin spoke again.

“I heard you got some last night, too.”

Ryn cocked her head at him, silently cursing the sunlight that scoured through her head.  “Talked to Obi-Wan?”

“Yeah.”  Anakin folded his arms and studied Orn Free Taa.  “Although your Senator hasn’t exactly been subtle, either.”

Ryn followed his gaze to where Free was cheerfully grandstanding, munching on some type of confection and taking plenty of opportunities to gaze knowingly at her.

“No,” she agreed, sizing him up. “I guess not.”

She felt Anakin shift beside her.  “Do you ... uh ... want me to do something?”

Ryn frowned.  “Something like what?”

“I don’t know.”  Discomfort sharpened in Anakin’s presence.  “You know. Take care of it.  Explain things to him.”

Explain what? Ryn started to say, but then she knew.  “No,” she said, but Anakin just gave her a worried look.  “It’s okay,” she tried again.  “I mean, he was good to me last night.  If a little gloating the morning after makes him happy, then I don’t want to spoil his party.  It’s not like he’s hurting me.”

“He’s hurting your reputation.”

Ryn tried to roll her eyes, and then regretted it when the activity threw flares of pain through all her nerves.  “I don’t think anyone here thinks highly enough of me to be disappointed,” she said, but of course this was just a recipe for exciting Anakin further.

“Why not?” he demanded.  And then, taking in her face - “Has someone said something?”

“No,” Ryn said, backing away a little.  “Just, you know, this isn’t my kind of crowd.”

“What?”  Anakin’s eyes narrowed on her.  “If this is because you’re from ... outside the Republic, do not worry about that.  You deserve respect just as much as anybody here.”

“Probably more,” Ryn agreed.  “And that’s not it, anyway.  I mean, they think I’m a barbarian, but that’s not what I meant.  They think I’m ... you know.  Easy.”

“Oh.”  Anakin scowled, but the expression was thoughtful rather than angry.  “Well, I could -”

“No, you couldn’t,” Ryn said, pretty sure that whatever he had in mind, it was unlikely to mend her reputation.  “Look, it’s all right.  Okay?  I don’t care what they think.  I’m just saying, there’s nothing to protect here.  And I can take care of myself, anyway.”  He looked doubtful, so she nudged him with her shoulder.  “Come on. You worry too much.”

The beginnings of a smile lit Anakin’s eyes.  “You’re the only person who tells me that.”

“Then you’re talking to the wrong people.”  She nudged him again.  “It’s going to be okay.  Okay?”

“Okay,” said Anakin.  He looked back across the group gathered at the near end of the orchard.  “But if anybody makes a wrong move, you let me know.”

“If anybody makes a wrong move, I will take care of it myself,” Ryn answered repressively.  Then she grinned, an effort that seemed to take more energy than defeating half the Separatist army.  “But thanks anyway.”

[~~~]

Padmé came around the corner of the gazebo and saw the glint of sunlight on Anakin’s hair ... and the girl standing next to him, dark as a shadow in the morning, leaning into his body in broad daylight.  She sucked in her breath and then startled at Palpatine’s voice.

“They certainly look friendly,” he said, his voice touched with amusement, and Padmé turned in time to see him gesture toward Anakin and his ... friend, she’s his friend.

“Ah ... yes,” Padmé stammered, trying to calm her racing heart.  She couldn’t reveal more than friendly concern, couldn’t ...

“I’m so glad that young Anakin has found a companion within the Jedi Order,” Palpatine went on, and Padmé clenched her fists in her skirts.  “Oh - I know she isn’t a Jedi officially, but still.  She can be there on the front lines when the rest of us are sitting safe at home, you know.”  He favored the two of them with an avuncular smile just as Ryn turned her face up to Anakin’s and laughed.  “I’m delighted that you invited both of them, Senator Amidala.  Such a kind gesture.”

“It was my sister’s decision,” Padmé bit out, hearing stone in her own voice.

“Of course,” said Palpatine, and Padmé stalked off to make war on the woman who was chasing her husband.

[~~~]

Sola looked up the from the letter her mother had sent in a mixture of exasperation and despair.

“Palo is coming,” she told her desk.  “Whatever am I going to tell Padmé?”

padmé amidala, ryn orun, jedi, anakin skywalker, a parody of manners, fandom: star wars, palpatine, sola naberrie, obi-wan kenobi

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