Post by kenobifan on Feb 16, 2007 23:23:03 GMT -5
Checked story on Oct 26, 2011
Title: Reflections
Author: NoobianRose
Rating: PG
A.N.: This is the second Obidala story I ever wrote (the first one was crap) and I did so after seeing “Attack of the Clones.” This is how I envisioned some character development during the Clone Wars, before what would become “Revenge of the Sith.” Now, after the release of the last film, it could be classified as an A.U. fic.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy. As always, “Star Wars” and all related characters, planets, species, catch phrases, design, etc, etc, etc belong to Lucasfilm and, in particular, George.
~NoobianRose
***
She walked gracefully out of her room; stepping onto the terrace that overlooked the water. She really did love coming to her home in the lake country. The idyllic villa, built in the traditional Noobian style with several circular rooms covered by domed roofs, rested at the edge of a shimmering lake. Water slapped gently against an antiquated dock that had greeted visitors for at least a few generations.
No matter how bad things seemed to be in her life, she could always find peace here. Unfortunately, this visit had done nothing to lift her spirits. Instead of bringing the clarity she so desired, her thoughts were filled with painful memories and more confusion.
Contrary to the confidence and poise she exuded publicly, Galactic Senator Padmé Amidala felt anything but poised and confident. Insecurity followed her everywhere; a constant, nagging worry that someone would be able to see through her calm, well-rounded exterior. She could never let anyone know what the deepest desires of her heart were, least of all, her husband. Padmé had tried to push away her feelings, tried to forget. But somewhere inside, she knew that she would never be able to push the memory of him away.
It wasn’t what she had intended of course. The heart rarely listens to reason; intent on following its own path. No one has the power to dictate to one’s heart what it can or cannot feel. It didn’t matter that she had already made a promise to another. Nor did it matter that the two men between which her heart was torn were the best of friends, as close to family as the Jedi Order allows.
The only thing that her heart was able to remember was that through the whole of her life there had only be one person that had remained with her always; one man that was always there for her. And that someone was not her husband. So, every moment of her life was spent fighting a terrible battle between heart and mind; love versus logic. And, try as she might to forget, the Jedi Master remained with her always.
Fresh tears threatened to spill over her lids but she would not allow them to fall. Padmé forced them back along with her sadness, which she had become an expert at hiding from the world. Then, suddenly, she was more angry than sad. I’m so damned sick of this . . . I’m tired of pining desperately for something that I can never have!
The Noobian sun began to set, then, as Padmé watched. She looked down over the railing and barely recognized her own reflection in the waters below. Things had changed much in the last ten years. She used to be so happy; completely full of hope. Ah, the naiveté of youth! True, she was still only in her twenties, but she felt much older. There was a completely different face staring back at her now. Not that bright child, but a worn woman who had seen cruelty in its worst form. Years of war and a rocky marriage had made that inevitable.
A cool breeze swept across the surface of the once still water and she saw her reflection distort. With the last few seconds of sunlight Padmé noticed the blue-green color of the lake that had so transfixed her. That’s what she missed the most about him. Those deep, thoughtful eyes whose color fit the lake perfectly. A much needed, and somewhat wicked, smile brightened her face. In all honesty however, there were a lot of other things she missed about him. Is he still as handsome as ever? Probably. Damn him!
Ripples formed as one renegade tear slid off her cheek, breaking the surface of the water. She remembered suddenly the last time she had seen him; right here on her terrace more than two years ago . . .
~~~~~~~
The sun was setting then also. Believing that no one else was watching her, she wept. Padmé hated crying. It wasn’t as if it would help anything, and she usually didn’t feel all that better when she was finished, so what was the point? With that said, she still couldn’t seem to stop herself.
It wasn’t as if her tears were unjustified. They stemmed from emotional anguish, caused by a failing marriage and the physical brutality which increasingly came with it. Somewhere along the line Anakin had changed. Every now and again, Padmé could see a glimmer of the man he used to be. She corrected herself quickly. Man? Perhaps that’s too generous. No matter how many years he lives, he’ll still be that little boy in Watto’s Junk Shop.
Regardless of this fact, she was still afraid. Not afraid of him per say, but scared of the demon within him, that dragon that had somehow managed to steal him away from her. Moreover, she feared the power, the power that this demon now wielded while within Anakin’s body.
She did love him, she would always love him. Padmé just didn’t like what he had become: bitter, angry, and violent. Thankfully, she thought, Anakin was not with her on Naboo at the moment. He had muttered something about “official Jedi business” and left in a hurry. What would he do if he found her crying like this? She shuddered to think. It was so hard to predict his moods now. Would he enfold her in his arms like he used to? The old Anakin wouldn’t care why she was crying, he would just want her to feel safe and loved.
The opposite end of the spectrum, however, was much more terrifying; suspicion and anger. Instead of care he may show her anger. He might attack her in a murderous rage, convinced that there was something she was keeping secret from him. That could be the only reason for her tears. The fact that she was, in truth, keeping something from him did nothing to ease her mind.
So preoccupied was she with these other thoughts that she missed the sound of light footfalls approaching from behind.
A hand fell lightly on her shoulder and she jumped with fright. For an instant, she thought it to be Anakin, back from his “official” business. But she quickly pushed it out of her mind. So soothing and kind was this touch that she knew it couldn’t be Anakin. Her husband hadn’t touched her like that for quite some time.
Padmé turned and before her stood a most welcome sight: her good friend, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Council had sent him to keep an eye on her while Anakin was away, the attempts on her life becoming more and more frequent with the escalation of the Clone Wars. But in all honesty, while he may have been protecting her life, his mere presence was throwing her emotions into a wild upheaval.
The years had always been kind to him. From Padawan braid and ponytail, to soft, full hair and beard, he remained one of the most beautiful men she had ever met. He walked with fluidity, grace, and power; robes of flowing brown circling about his feet. She had always admired and respected him. He seemed to ooze confidence and possessed a never-ending supply of compassion and honesty. And those eyes! Enough to make even a Dug weak in the knees . . .wait- Dugs walk on their hands don’t they, so he would be weak in the . . . elbows? She pushed away the thought, and the silly image it conjured, quickly.
When Padmé stopped to think about it, Obi-Wan was really the only person who had always been there for her. When she was still Queen of Naboo, he had been there to serve as ambassador. Ten years later, when Nute Gunray had put a contract on her life, he had been assigned to protect her. And here he was, yet again. He just seemed to be around, for every major crisis in her life; and she was nothing but grateful. If there was one thing that Padmé had always needed, it was a friend, someone she could trust.
Suddenly, an overwhelming desire came over her. Before she realized what she was doing, her arms threw themselves around Obi-Wan’s neck. Whatever control she had possessed over her emotions now completely vanished; she wept uncontrollably into the crook of the Master’s neck.
Hesitantly, he slid his arms about her small waist, (smaller than usual he noticed). Obi-Wan pulled her closer to him, sending her as much positive and comforting energy as he could through their contact. “Padmé,” he whispered, “It pains me to see you cry. Please . . . tell me what’s wrong.”
Her tear-stained face looked up into his. Did she have the courage to finally tell him the truth? Obi-Wan was the only friend she had left. And she would much rather keep her secrets than cause him the same pain she had been living with. Gods knew what a revelation like that would do to the friendship they had built; the friendship she still so desperately needed.
The worry within his eyes made it difficult to look at him, so she nervously turned her face downward instead. Keeping silent, she began a thorough inspection of his Jedi robes: the warm earthy colors, the elegant style and fit, and the rough consistency of the fabr- “Padmé?” he continued his inquiry, “Please. I know you’re hurting. . . I may be able to help if you let me.”
The Senator laid her head securely on his chest; still unwilling to look into those eyes. None of her secrets would be kept if she did. “I’m in love,” she began, “ . . . and it hurts. It’s worse than any other pain I’ve felt in my life.” His body stiffened slightly beneath her head, but his arms remained around her, “Why should it pain you Milady? You know that Anakin loves you as well.”
Despite the sincerity behind his words, the way he now formally addressed her cut deeply, “Obi-Wan? If I were to tell you something . . . would you keep it private? I mean, just between us?” The great Jedi’s body softened around her again, like a warm, familiar blanket. Holding her very close, he whispered, “You know I would.”
Slowly, she lifted her head once again to look into his eyes. The warmth she found there, she knew she would never find again. And now, turning from him, she tried to collect herself to the best of her ability. Padmé wiped the last remaining tears from her eyes and spun back to him quickly, “I do love Anakin, but not as I once did. As for him loving me . . . I don’t know. I think what he felt could be equated more with obsession than with love. But he offered me everything that the man I really love . . . never could.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he continued listening to her confession, “I think that deep in his heart Anakin knows, but he’d never admit it. And he’d never let me go now.”
She sighed deeply. Hopefully that’ll be enough to satisfy him, she thought, Not that I would be able to go on even if it weren’t. Face to face they stood for several seconds, and all the while, Obi-Wan’s remained unreadable. Having said all she was willing to at that point, Padmé began to make her way back into her house. But something suddenly caught her arm.
Pain, sharp and deep, radiated from the contact, and a small shriek escaped her. Having felt her pain through his ever present contact with the Force, the Jedi broke their contact immediately. Horror and confusion now graced his elegant features as he stared at her.
Worried eyes scanned the Senator’s frail body, as he seemed to really take her in for the first time. Yes, she thought to herself angrily, almost reading his thoughts, I have lost some weight, but it certainly doesn’t warrant such scrutiny! “Padmé?” he asked softly, “May I look at your arm?” Her protest on the inspection was short lived. She could never refuse his pleading eyes.
Stepping forward, Obi-Wan gently lifted the delicate limb. Seeing her again flinch in pain, he loosened his already lax grip. Using the Force in fear of causing still more pain, he pushed the flared sleeve of her gown up to her tiny shoulder. In all the years they had known each other, she had never seen the great Master cry, but now Padmé watched as his beautiful eyes filled with tears.
“Did he do this to you?” he asked quietly. She didn’t reply, and she didn’t have to. It was true. The welts and bruises which lined her arm, as well as the rest of her body, were put there by her husband.
It was difficult for him to keep his emotions in check with her there. Not only was Padmé, someone he cared very deeply about, being hurt in a brutal way, but it was more evidence that Anakin was changing. His student, his friend, his brother. He was different. It was a fact Obi-Wan had tried to push out of his mind, tried desperately ignore.
And so he stood, for a long time, intently inspecting the marks on Padmé’s delicate skin. Slowly he lowered the damaged limb, “It’s not too late to tell this other person how you really feel.” He looked at her strangely now, as if he were giving this particular piece of advice against his better judgment. It looked as if a large battle were being fought inside of him. “Perhaps,” he continued, “whoever it is will surprise you . . . Perhaps they could take you away from this life of pain with Anakin.”
Avoiding her eyes, his gaze shifted out over the calm lake. As she had seen him do so often, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms in front of his chest, burying himself in his large outer robe. Slowing his breathing, he drew upon the Force to calm body and mind. “Do you really think that it would help Master Kenobi?” she asked him diplomatically, (he really despised politicians). But he answered in kind; impeccably formal, “It would be beneficial to your own wellbeing to be rid of this secret at the very least Milady.”
After quietly pondering his words, she finally made up her mind. At that moment, watching his figure silhouetted against the still setting sun, she didn’t care what consequences her confession would bring. “Alright Obi-Wan,” she said softly, “I love you.”
He didn’t move. Nor did he speak. The Jedi remained so still, an imposing statue, and it was difficult to know whether or not he had actually heard her.
She waited for a response that didn’t come, but her long tested patience wore thin quite quickly. “Did you hear me?” she asked, quickly approaching his still turned back, frustration building, “It’s you that I have loved, Obi-Wan!” Tears streamed down her face anew as her power and conviction consumed her, “I love that you’ve always treated me with respect and dignity, not like some kind of trophy . . . not like an object! I love watching you smile and hearing you laugh when you think no one is looking . . . When you hold me, nothing else matters. It is the only time in my life that I feel like a whole person.”
And still there was nothing from him. Angrily, she shouted, “What do you have to say about that Oh Wise One?!”
Finally, he faced her again. “What would you have me say Padmé, when words fail to convey what one truly feels?” he asked, “What can one do when words aren’t enough?” The Galactic Senator looked at him quizzically. She wasn’t quite sure what she had been expecting by way of a reaction, but this wasn’t it. Suddenly, Obi-Wan took her into his warm embrace again and, there, she melted into him. Okay, this wasn’t quite it either, but it wasn’t unpleasant by any means.
He held her extremely close, though not too tightly, remembering the condition of her battered body. “Why did you have to fall in love with me?” he asked her breathlessly.
Confusion lit her porcelain face and she pulled away from him, “A person can’t help who they fall in love with. It’s not something you control . . . it’s not something you can turn on and off whenever it pleases you. Do you honestly think that I wanted to fall in love with my husband’s mentor? Do you think I wanted to love the one man in my life who couldn’t love me in return?”
A small, knowing smile played across his lips and the way he looked at her now sent shivers down her spine, “You’re right. I am not permitted to love you, my dedication to the Order makes that impossible” Very softly he spoke again, in a low, (Gods help her) sexy tone that made her face flush crimson, “But, that having been said, did I ever tell you that I didn’t love you . . . Padmé?” Her heart began to race within her chest.
“What are you saying Jedi?” she asked, with a forced calm and poise that came from her years in the political arena. Obi-Wan seemed to think about his response very carefully, diverting his eyes from hers only once. Finally, the Master found his voice, “I’ve always loved you Padmé. Your courage, and your beauty, and your strength . . . how could I not love you? From the moment I saw you, I knew my life would never be the same.” His face fell suddenly as he continued, “And now I am forced to watch as Anakin destroys not only his soul . . . but yours as well.”
The sun had now completely set behind the Noobian hills and the couple was bathed in the moon’s soft light. For her whole life it seemed Padmé had waited for this moment. She had only dreamt about it in her deepest fantasies, far away from Anakin’s powerful, prying mind. A thousand times over, she had imagined what she would say to her Jedi if this time ever came. But now, she could say nothing. And, luckily for her, she didn’t have to. He seemed to, once again, sense her internal struggle, and before she knew it, his soft lips were on hers.
Unlike a thousand of Anakin’s kisses, this one was slow and sweet; filled with the love and tenderness that only her General possessed. His warm tongue played, feather light, on her lips now and she quickly responded. Leisurely their mouths danced, giving and receiving more pleasure than either of them had ever known. He truly was everything that she had longed for while she lay in her husband’s arms.
Running her hands down the sides of his face, Padmé let his beard tickle her palms. Their kiss quickly intensified as they made up for years of unrequited love. Slowly, they were consumed in the warmth of their own beautiful fire. Being locked in this embrace was more wonderful, more fulfilling, than either of them could have imagined. And even though they knew that this was all there could (and probably would) ever be, it somehow didn’t matter just yet. This moment was theirs.
At no other time or place in the entire galaxy had Padmé ever felt that happy, or that safe. She knew that no one, not even Anakin, could hurt her while she remained in Obi-Wan’s embrace. As much as it pained her, she knew she must continue to live with the secret of her love for the Jedi Master, as well as his love for her. For such a love to be revealed could be dangerous for both of them.
To the Senator’s surprise, this fact did not pain her. Instead of making her longing worse, his kiss filled her with inspiration. Till the end of her days she would remember this night, no matter what happened. This was the night she found the strength to go on . . .
~~~~~~~~
Once again she stood on her terrace, alone. Padme could no longer make out her reflection on the calm water; the sun having set some time before. She knew she could never be with him. Her marriage to Anakin, as well as Obi-Wan’s commitment to the Jedi Order made it all but impossible. But simply knowing that he did lover her, and remembering that he would always be there for her made the future seem brighter somehow. He would be hers forever, and she would undoubtedly be his.
Pulling herself up, she walked into her house, a new sense of self and confidence guiding her steps. She closed the door which led to the terrace, leaving her tragic reflection behind her.
Title: Reflections
Author: NoobianRose
Rating: PG
A.N.: This is the second Obidala story I ever wrote (the first one was crap) and I did so after seeing “Attack of the Clones.” This is how I envisioned some character development during the Clone Wars, before what would become “Revenge of the Sith.” Now, after the release of the last film, it could be classified as an A.U. fic.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy. As always, “Star Wars” and all related characters, planets, species, catch phrases, design, etc, etc, etc belong to Lucasfilm and, in particular, George.
~NoobianRose
***
She walked gracefully out of her room; stepping onto the terrace that overlooked the water. She really did love coming to her home in the lake country. The idyllic villa, built in the traditional Noobian style with several circular rooms covered by domed roofs, rested at the edge of a shimmering lake. Water slapped gently against an antiquated dock that had greeted visitors for at least a few generations.
No matter how bad things seemed to be in her life, she could always find peace here. Unfortunately, this visit had done nothing to lift her spirits. Instead of bringing the clarity she so desired, her thoughts were filled with painful memories and more confusion.
Contrary to the confidence and poise she exuded publicly, Galactic Senator Padmé Amidala felt anything but poised and confident. Insecurity followed her everywhere; a constant, nagging worry that someone would be able to see through her calm, well-rounded exterior. She could never let anyone know what the deepest desires of her heart were, least of all, her husband. Padmé had tried to push away her feelings, tried to forget. But somewhere inside, she knew that she would never be able to push the memory of him away.
It wasn’t what she had intended of course. The heart rarely listens to reason; intent on following its own path. No one has the power to dictate to one’s heart what it can or cannot feel. It didn’t matter that she had already made a promise to another. Nor did it matter that the two men between which her heart was torn were the best of friends, as close to family as the Jedi Order allows.
The only thing that her heart was able to remember was that through the whole of her life there had only be one person that had remained with her always; one man that was always there for her. And that someone was not her husband. So, every moment of her life was spent fighting a terrible battle between heart and mind; love versus logic. And, try as she might to forget, the Jedi Master remained with her always.
Fresh tears threatened to spill over her lids but she would not allow them to fall. Padmé forced them back along with her sadness, which she had become an expert at hiding from the world. Then, suddenly, she was more angry than sad. I’m so damned sick of this . . . I’m tired of pining desperately for something that I can never have!
The Noobian sun began to set, then, as Padmé watched. She looked down over the railing and barely recognized her own reflection in the waters below. Things had changed much in the last ten years. She used to be so happy; completely full of hope. Ah, the naiveté of youth! True, she was still only in her twenties, but she felt much older. There was a completely different face staring back at her now. Not that bright child, but a worn woman who had seen cruelty in its worst form. Years of war and a rocky marriage had made that inevitable.
A cool breeze swept across the surface of the once still water and she saw her reflection distort. With the last few seconds of sunlight Padmé noticed the blue-green color of the lake that had so transfixed her. That’s what she missed the most about him. Those deep, thoughtful eyes whose color fit the lake perfectly. A much needed, and somewhat wicked, smile brightened her face. In all honesty however, there were a lot of other things she missed about him. Is he still as handsome as ever? Probably. Damn him!
Ripples formed as one renegade tear slid off her cheek, breaking the surface of the water. She remembered suddenly the last time she had seen him; right here on her terrace more than two years ago . . .
~~~~~~~
The sun was setting then also. Believing that no one else was watching her, she wept. Padmé hated crying. It wasn’t as if it would help anything, and she usually didn’t feel all that better when she was finished, so what was the point? With that said, she still couldn’t seem to stop herself.
It wasn’t as if her tears were unjustified. They stemmed from emotional anguish, caused by a failing marriage and the physical brutality which increasingly came with it. Somewhere along the line Anakin had changed. Every now and again, Padmé could see a glimmer of the man he used to be. She corrected herself quickly. Man? Perhaps that’s too generous. No matter how many years he lives, he’ll still be that little boy in Watto’s Junk Shop.
Regardless of this fact, she was still afraid. Not afraid of him per say, but scared of the demon within him, that dragon that had somehow managed to steal him away from her. Moreover, she feared the power, the power that this demon now wielded while within Anakin’s body.
She did love him, she would always love him. Padmé just didn’t like what he had become: bitter, angry, and violent. Thankfully, she thought, Anakin was not with her on Naboo at the moment. He had muttered something about “official Jedi business” and left in a hurry. What would he do if he found her crying like this? She shuddered to think. It was so hard to predict his moods now. Would he enfold her in his arms like he used to? The old Anakin wouldn’t care why she was crying, he would just want her to feel safe and loved.
The opposite end of the spectrum, however, was much more terrifying; suspicion and anger. Instead of care he may show her anger. He might attack her in a murderous rage, convinced that there was something she was keeping secret from him. That could be the only reason for her tears. The fact that she was, in truth, keeping something from him did nothing to ease her mind.
So preoccupied was she with these other thoughts that she missed the sound of light footfalls approaching from behind.
A hand fell lightly on her shoulder and she jumped with fright. For an instant, she thought it to be Anakin, back from his “official” business. But she quickly pushed it out of her mind. So soothing and kind was this touch that she knew it couldn’t be Anakin. Her husband hadn’t touched her like that for quite some time.
Padmé turned and before her stood a most welcome sight: her good friend, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Council had sent him to keep an eye on her while Anakin was away, the attempts on her life becoming more and more frequent with the escalation of the Clone Wars. But in all honesty, while he may have been protecting her life, his mere presence was throwing her emotions into a wild upheaval.
The years had always been kind to him. From Padawan braid and ponytail, to soft, full hair and beard, he remained one of the most beautiful men she had ever met. He walked with fluidity, grace, and power; robes of flowing brown circling about his feet. She had always admired and respected him. He seemed to ooze confidence and possessed a never-ending supply of compassion and honesty. And those eyes! Enough to make even a Dug weak in the knees . . .wait- Dugs walk on their hands don’t they, so he would be weak in the . . . elbows? She pushed away the thought, and the silly image it conjured, quickly.
When Padmé stopped to think about it, Obi-Wan was really the only person who had always been there for her. When she was still Queen of Naboo, he had been there to serve as ambassador. Ten years later, when Nute Gunray had put a contract on her life, he had been assigned to protect her. And here he was, yet again. He just seemed to be around, for every major crisis in her life; and she was nothing but grateful. If there was one thing that Padmé had always needed, it was a friend, someone she could trust.
Suddenly, an overwhelming desire came over her. Before she realized what she was doing, her arms threw themselves around Obi-Wan’s neck. Whatever control she had possessed over her emotions now completely vanished; she wept uncontrollably into the crook of the Master’s neck.
Hesitantly, he slid his arms about her small waist, (smaller than usual he noticed). Obi-Wan pulled her closer to him, sending her as much positive and comforting energy as he could through their contact. “Padmé,” he whispered, “It pains me to see you cry. Please . . . tell me what’s wrong.”
Her tear-stained face looked up into his. Did she have the courage to finally tell him the truth? Obi-Wan was the only friend she had left. And she would much rather keep her secrets than cause him the same pain she had been living with. Gods knew what a revelation like that would do to the friendship they had built; the friendship she still so desperately needed.
The worry within his eyes made it difficult to look at him, so she nervously turned her face downward instead. Keeping silent, she began a thorough inspection of his Jedi robes: the warm earthy colors, the elegant style and fit, and the rough consistency of the fabr- “Padmé?” he continued his inquiry, “Please. I know you’re hurting. . . I may be able to help if you let me.”
The Senator laid her head securely on his chest; still unwilling to look into those eyes. None of her secrets would be kept if she did. “I’m in love,” she began, “ . . . and it hurts. It’s worse than any other pain I’ve felt in my life.” His body stiffened slightly beneath her head, but his arms remained around her, “Why should it pain you Milady? You know that Anakin loves you as well.”
Despite the sincerity behind his words, the way he now formally addressed her cut deeply, “Obi-Wan? If I were to tell you something . . . would you keep it private? I mean, just between us?” The great Jedi’s body softened around her again, like a warm, familiar blanket. Holding her very close, he whispered, “You know I would.”
Slowly, she lifted her head once again to look into his eyes. The warmth she found there, she knew she would never find again. And now, turning from him, she tried to collect herself to the best of her ability. Padmé wiped the last remaining tears from her eyes and spun back to him quickly, “I do love Anakin, but not as I once did. As for him loving me . . . I don’t know. I think what he felt could be equated more with obsession than with love. But he offered me everything that the man I really love . . . never could.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he continued listening to her confession, “I think that deep in his heart Anakin knows, but he’d never admit it. And he’d never let me go now.”
She sighed deeply. Hopefully that’ll be enough to satisfy him, she thought, Not that I would be able to go on even if it weren’t. Face to face they stood for several seconds, and all the while, Obi-Wan’s remained unreadable. Having said all she was willing to at that point, Padmé began to make her way back into her house. But something suddenly caught her arm.
Pain, sharp and deep, radiated from the contact, and a small shriek escaped her. Having felt her pain through his ever present contact with the Force, the Jedi broke their contact immediately. Horror and confusion now graced his elegant features as he stared at her.
Worried eyes scanned the Senator’s frail body, as he seemed to really take her in for the first time. Yes, she thought to herself angrily, almost reading his thoughts, I have lost some weight, but it certainly doesn’t warrant such scrutiny! “Padmé?” he asked softly, “May I look at your arm?” Her protest on the inspection was short lived. She could never refuse his pleading eyes.
Stepping forward, Obi-Wan gently lifted the delicate limb. Seeing her again flinch in pain, he loosened his already lax grip. Using the Force in fear of causing still more pain, he pushed the flared sleeve of her gown up to her tiny shoulder. In all the years they had known each other, she had never seen the great Master cry, but now Padmé watched as his beautiful eyes filled with tears.
“Did he do this to you?” he asked quietly. She didn’t reply, and she didn’t have to. It was true. The welts and bruises which lined her arm, as well as the rest of her body, were put there by her husband.
It was difficult for him to keep his emotions in check with her there. Not only was Padmé, someone he cared very deeply about, being hurt in a brutal way, but it was more evidence that Anakin was changing. His student, his friend, his brother. He was different. It was a fact Obi-Wan had tried to push out of his mind, tried desperately ignore.
And so he stood, for a long time, intently inspecting the marks on Padmé’s delicate skin. Slowly he lowered the damaged limb, “It’s not too late to tell this other person how you really feel.” He looked at her strangely now, as if he were giving this particular piece of advice against his better judgment. It looked as if a large battle were being fought inside of him. “Perhaps,” he continued, “whoever it is will surprise you . . . Perhaps they could take you away from this life of pain with Anakin.”
Avoiding her eyes, his gaze shifted out over the calm lake. As she had seen him do so often, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms in front of his chest, burying himself in his large outer robe. Slowing his breathing, he drew upon the Force to calm body and mind. “Do you really think that it would help Master Kenobi?” she asked him diplomatically, (he really despised politicians). But he answered in kind; impeccably formal, “It would be beneficial to your own wellbeing to be rid of this secret at the very least Milady.”
After quietly pondering his words, she finally made up her mind. At that moment, watching his figure silhouetted against the still setting sun, she didn’t care what consequences her confession would bring. “Alright Obi-Wan,” she said softly, “I love you.”
He didn’t move. Nor did he speak. The Jedi remained so still, an imposing statue, and it was difficult to know whether or not he had actually heard her.
She waited for a response that didn’t come, but her long tested patience wore thin quite quickly. “Did you hear me?” she asked, quickly approaching his still turned back, frustration building, “It’s you that I have loved, Obi-Wan!” Tears streamed down her face anew as her power and conviction consumed her, “I love that you’ve always treated me with respect and dignity, not like some kind of trophy . . . not like an object! I love watching you smile and hearing you laugh when you think no one is looking . . . When you hold me, nothing else matters. It is the only time in my life that I feel like a whole person.”
And still there was nothing from him. Angrily, she shouted, “What do you have to say about that Oh Wise One?!”
Finally, he faced her again. “What would you have me say Padmé, when words fail to convey what one truly feels?” he asked, “What can one do when words aren’t enough?” The Galactic Senator looked at him quizzically. She wasn’t quite sure what she had been expecting by way of a reaction, but this wasn’t it. Suddenly, Obi-Wan took her into his warm embrace again and, there, she melted into him. Okay, this wasn’t quite it either, but it wasn’t unpleasant by any means.
He held her extremely close, though not too tightly, remembering the condition of her battered body. “Why did you have to fall in love with me?” he asked her breathlessly.
Confusion lit her porcelain face and she pulled away from him, “A person can’t help who they fall in love with. It’s not something you control . . . it’s not something you can turn on and off whenever it pleases you. Do you honestly think that I wanted to fall in love with my husband’s mentor? Do you think I wanted to love the one man in my life who couldn’t love me in return?”
A small, knowing smile played across his lips and the way he looked at her now sent shivers down her spine, “You’re right. I am not permitted to love you, my dedication to the Order makes that impossible” Very softly he spoke again, in a low, (Gods help her) sexy tone that made her face flush crimson, “But, that having been said, did I ever tell you that I didn’t love you . . . Padmé?” Her heart began to race within her chest.
“What are you saying Jedi?” she asked, with a forced calm and poise that came from her years in the political arena. Obi-Wan seemed to think about his response very carefully, diverting his eyes from hers only once. Finally, the Master found his voice, “I’ve always loved you Padmé. Your courage, and your beauty, and your strength . . . how could I not love you? From the moment I saw you, I knew my life would never be the same.” His face fell suddenly as he continued, “And now I am forced to watch as Anakin destroys not only his soul . . . but yours as well.”
The sun had now completely set behind the Noobian hills and the couple was bathed in the moon’s soft light. For her whole life it seemed Padmé had waited for this moment. She had only dreamt about it in her deepest fantasies, far away from Anakin’s powerful, prying mind. A thousand times over, she had imagined what she would say to her Jedi if this time ever came. But now, she could say nothing. And, luckily for her, she didn’t have to. He seemed to, once again, sense her internal struggle, and before she knew it, his soft lips were on hers.
Unlike a thousand of Anakin’s kisses, this one was slow and sweet; filled with the love and tenderness that only her General possessed. His warm tongue played, feather light, on her lips now and she quickly responded. Leisurely their mouths danced, giving and receiving more pleasure than either of them had ever known. He truly was everything that she had longed for while she lay in her husband’s arms.
Running her hands down the sides of his face, Padmé let his beard tickle her palms. Their kiss quickly intensified as they made up for years of unrequited love. Slowly, they were consumed in the warmth of their own beautiful fire. Being locked in this embrace was more wonderful, more fulfilling, than either of them could have imagined. And even though they knew that this was all there could (and probably would) ever be, it somehow didn’t matter just yet. This moment was theirs.
At no other time or place in the entire galaxy had Padmé ever felt that happy, or that safe. She knew that no one, not even Anakin, could hurt her while she remained in Obi-Wan’s embrace. As much as it pained her, she knew she must continue to live with the secret of her love for the Jedi Master, as well as his love for her. For such a love to be revealed could be dangerous for both of them.
To the Senator’s surprise, this fact did not pain her. Instead of making her longing worse, his kiss filled her with inspiration. Till the end of her days she would remember this night, no matter what happened. This was the night she found the strength to go on . . .
~~~~~~~~
Once again she stood on her terrace, alone. Padme could no longer make out her reflection on the calm water; the sun having set some time before. She knew she could never be with him. Her marriage to Anakin, as well as Obi-Wan’s commitment to the Jedi Order made it all but impossible. But simply knowing that he did lover her, and remembering that he would always be there for her made the future seem brighter somehow. He would be hers forever, and she would undoubtedly be his.
Pulling herself up, she walked into her house, a new sense of self and confidence guiding her steps. She closed the door which led to the terrace, leaving her tragic reflection behind her.