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It's easy for him to follow her presence, even if she'd tried to hide her location. (But he's glad she didn't.) Obi-Wan comes to a stop just in front of and beside her, before crouching elegantly and offering her the cup.
"Unless you wish me to stay, I'm going back in to meditate. Don't worry about interrupting me, it's... more just a way to greet the day, than any real need for it."
Of course, he wishes she would tell him to stay, but he's fairly certain that won't happen. Not now, this time, at any rate.
"Unless you wish me to stay, I'm going back in to meditate. Don't worry about interrupting me, it's... more just a way to greet the day, than any real need for it."
Of course, he wishes she would tell him to stay, but he's fairly certain that won't happen. Not now, this time, at any rate.
The way he moves is like water, everything fluid and calm, and ease of motion that she'd only ever managed with exacting concentration and layers of costume. Taking the cup with her free hand, she keeps her gaze on the faintly steaming liquid within as she replies, "I have something to share with you, if you could spare a few minutes."
Better now than putting it off until later, though that's what part of her would much prefer.
Better now than putting it off until later, though that's what part of her would much prefer.
Hiding his surprise, there's only the briefest of pauses before Obi-Wan nods. "Of course, my lady." He shifts to cross his ankles and sink onto the edge of the blanket beside her, turning to be 90 degrees to her. So he can look at her, and she him, but avoid the other's gaze with ease if they feel like it. Non-confrontational attention, Qui-Gon had called it, and it was a technique Obi-Wan used often.
"My time is yours. Take all you need."
"My time is yours. Take all you need."
My lady. He keeps calling her that and she's going to have to say something about it, but now isn't the time. If she doesn't do what she'd intended right away, then she might back out and put it off again, and that simply wouldn't do.
"I don't need much," she clarifies, turning on the datapad with a press of her thumb to the security panel. The screen illuminates with a collection of files and she holds it out to him. "These are all the reports on the most recent attempt on my life. I don't wish to discuss it, but I'm sure that Captain Typho will be eager to strategize security measures with you when we return to Coruscant."
Her tone is matter-of-fact, the picture of political poise to ensure that none of her emotion leaks into the words. The reports detail the attack that took place in the middle of the night while she'd been traveling on a planet with close diplomatic relations with Naboo. The attacker had gained access to the rooms she'd been assigned and set off a sleeping gas in the apartment. She'd woken to him standing over the bed, a bloody knife in his hand and her handmaiden-- Security had arrived then and the attacked had escaped by breaking the wide windows, only to be caught a few hours later and brought into custody.
Her handmaiden hadn't survived.
"I don't need much," she clarifies, turning on the datapad with a press of her thumb to the security panel. The screen illuminates with a collection of files and she holds it out to him. "These are all the reports on the most recent attempt on my life. I don't wish to discuss it, but I'm sure that Captain Typho will be eager to strategize security measures with you when we return to Coruscant."
Her tone is matter-of-fact, the picture of political poise to ensure that none of her emotion leaks into the words. The reports detail the attack that took place in the middle of the night while she'd been traveling on a planet with close diplomatic relations with Naboo. The attacker had gained access to the rooms she'd been assigned and set off a sleeping gas in the apartment. She'd woken to him standing over the bed, a bloody knife in his hand and her handmaiden-- Security had arrived then and the attacked had escaped by breaking the wide windows, only to be caught a few hours later and brought into custody.
Her handmaiden hadn't survived.
Accepting the device, Obi-Wan keeps his head up to show he's listening, even as he scans through the files, his Jedi training taking over.
Stars above... He'd known she'd had multiple attempts made on her life, and the last was too close, prompting this arrangement in the first place. What he hadn't known until just know were the details, and what she must have had to witness. He looks at the image of her handmaiden - so similar in looks as Padmé, lying in a pool of blood - for only the briefest moment before flicking past. He's going to have that image in his head for a long while.
I don't wish to discuss it.
Captain Typho will be eager to strategize security measures.
"Yes, I'm sure he will," Obi-Wan murmurs distractedly, shutting the screen off and lowering the datapad to his lap. He turns his head to look out at the lake, calm and serene in the pre-dawn light. He takes a deep breath, savoring the clean, slightly damp fresh air. "If he's anything like Captain Tanaka, he will not be pleased with the fact that as your husband, I now have not only first but last say in your security. And I intend on keeping it as unobtrusive as possible."
Another breath, this time released in a sigh. "You won't be a prisoner, Padmé. And you're not to blame for this."
Stars above... He'd known she'd had multiple attempts made on her life, and the last was too close, prompting this arrangement in the first place. What he hadn't known until just know were the details, and what she must have had to witness. He looks at the image of her handmaiden - so similar in looks as Padmé, lying in a pool of blood - for only the briefest moment before flicking past. He's going to have that image in his head for a long while.
I don't wish to discuss it.
Captain Typho will be eager to strategize security measures.
"Yes, I'm sure he will," Obi-Wan murmurs distractedly, shutting the screen off and lowering the datapad to his lap. He turns his head to look out at the lake, calm and serene in the pre-dawn light. He takes a deep breath, savoring the clean, slightly damp fresh air. "If he's anything like Captain Tanaka, he will not be pleased with the fact that as your husband, I now have not only first but last say in your security. And I intend on keeping it as unobtrusive as possible."
Another breath, this time released in a sigh. "You won't be a prisoner, Padmé. And you're not to blame for this."
She's seen those photos a hundred times herself, of the room, of Sorché, of that man. A hundred times and they all pale in comparison to the memories of that awful night. In the days that had followed, she'd felt lost and helpless, but all of her own grief had been pushed to the side in order to take care of her duties -- there had been reports to be made and she'd tried to stay strong for her other handmaidens. Her friends, the loyal bodyguards who had protected her and stayed by her side even when they'd lost one of their own. And she'd visited Sorché's family...
"Thank you." Distance is in those two words, but she means them all the same. He could very easily insist that her security become an oppressive force under which she'd barely be able to breathe, and given the circumstances she likely wouldn't have argued. No, she would have gone along with things and drowned in her own misery of it.
"The reports weren't made public," she explains, moving past talk of her own emotional state. "The incident was isolated and knowledge of it will be kept as such." There's no room left for discussion of it.
"Thank you." Distance is in those two words, but she means them all the same. He could very easily insist that her security become an oppressive force under which she'd barely be able to breathe, and given the circumstances she likely wouldn't have argued. No, she would have gone along with things and drowned in her own misery of it.
"The reports weren't made public," she explains, moving past talk of her own emotional state. "The incident was isolated and knowledge of it will be kept as such." There's no room left for discussion of it.
He accepts her glossing over of his last words, as well as her distance. He'd expected nothing else, really, even if he'd hoped... But he knew these things took time. He remembered their laughing and teasing of each other yesterday - had it really been less than a full day ago? It felt like a lifetime - and knew that holding back her grief wasn't unduly harming her, so he left it alone for now. Some wounds needed to be punctured, the infection released before they could heal. Others needed to be left to heal on their own, and only time would tell if they would scar. For now, he would let the issue drop. With time and distance, perhaps she would come to see herself that she wasn't to blame. Or perhaps eventually she would come to trust him enough to listen when he told her it wasn't her fault.
Obi-Wan nods his agreement to her last words - more a decree, and part of him thinks wryly that eventually, the Queen and the Jedi are going to butt heads, and no one in the vicinity will escape unscathed. But since they are in agreement, thankfully this will not be that day. "No, there's no point publicizing it, and it could do your cause more harm than good, which is the last thing we want."
"Is there anything else you wish from me, my lady?" He reaches out to brush fingertips over her hand, making his words less formal and more heartfelt.
Obi-Wan nods his agreement to her last words - more a decree, and part of him thinks wryly that eventually, the Queen and the Jedi are going to butt heads, and no one in the vicinity will escape unscathed. But since they are in agreement, thankfully this will not be that day. "No, there's no point publicizing it, and it could do your cause more harm than good, which is the last thing we want."
"Is there anything else you wish from me, my lady?" He reaches out to brush fingertips over her hand, making his words less formal and more heartfelt.
Time was something she'd had too much of lately. Time to think about what had happened, to debate all the things she could have (should have) done differently. Time to replay in her mind the hours after the attack, when all she'd wanted to do was fall apart but all she could do was stay strong for the others and carry on. It was all too much time, and she'd done her best to keep herself occupied as much as possible in the weeks since. Now, though...
Well, perhaps a week of nothing but time with someone who could likely already read her like a book wasn't the best idea.
She turns her hand to capture his fingers with her own, giving a gentle squeeze of gratitude for so many things. He hadn't argued with her, or insisted she speak further on the matter. He's exactly the person she'd always known him to be. "There's nothing else, thank you." She releases his hand before adding, "I'll make us some breakfast when you've finished meditating."
Well, perhaps a week of nothing but time with someone who could likely already read her like a book wasn't the best idea.
She turns her hand to capture his fingers with her own, giving a gentle squeeze of gratitude for so many things. He hadn't argued with her, or insisted she speak further on the matter. He's exactly the person she'd always known him to be. "There's nothing else, thank you." She releases his hand before adding, "I'll make us some breakfast when you've finished meditating."
There is so much he'd like to say to her still, to do. He thinks about lifting her hand to kiss; thinks of simply hugging her, offering his silent support. He does neither, merely smiling pleasantly. "That sounds lovely. Thank you for telling me you enjoy cooking; I would feel much more guilty for not pulling my weight. As it is, I only feel somewhat guilty about it, instead."
On impulse, he does pick up her hand and brush a chaste kiss across her knuckles. He remains casual, acting as if he'd done nothing out of the ordinary, even while his heart starts beating faster in his chest at the display of affection. This is not something he's used to.
"I won't be more than a half-hour's time."
On impulse, he does pick up her hand and brush a chaste kiss across her knuckles. He remains casual, acting as if he'd done nothing out of the ordinary, even while his heart starts beating faster in his chest at the display of affection. This is not something he's used to.
"I won't be more than a half-hour's time."
His talk of feeling guilty makes her smile, and though it's just a small thing, it helps. Something in her feels lighter afterward, and she has that hope again for their future. For all the small problems they may encounter and face together, there's a good balance between them, a measure of support and respect that she wouldn't trade for anything.
"I'll see you soon then," she replies with a slightly bigger smile, that fluttering back in her chest at that sweet kiss. Affectionate respect, that's all it was. That's all she could think it was, since they... are what they are. She will not push him for anything more.
"I'll see you soon then," she replies with a slightly bigger smile, that fluttering back in her chest at that sweet kiss. Affectionate respect, that's all it was. That's all she could think it was, since they... are what they are. She will not push him for anything more.
Obi-Wan gifts her with another smile, quite unable to help himself, before standing, offering a brief, playful bow to her, and heading back inside.
He decides on meditating in the bedroom, in front of the row of windows and providing soothing natural light. As he told Padmé earlier, this morning's meditation is more just a way to greet the day, rather than trying to work anything out. He had been awoken a little earlier than usual, and the emotional turmoil they'd danced around has left him feeling a little off-kilter, so re-centering himself is soothing and welcome, but not strictly needed. He listens, both with his ears as well as his Force sense, as the local wildlife begins waking up for the day, while the nocturnal creatures settle into their nests and dens for their own sleep cycle. He's going to miss this, when they return to Coruscant; even the Temple meditation gardens don't feel like this, artificial and isolated as they are.
He thinks he's going to miss a lot of things about this week, once it's over, not least of which is the ease of his and Padmé's friendship. He knows it will continue, but here and now, it's freeing knowing they have no responsibilities for this short time. Perhaps that's why he continues to find himself unconsciously flirting with her - for that is what he's doing, even if he's only now recognizing what the touches, the smiles, and the 'my lady's really are.
His internal clock tells him when it's been a half-hour, and while he's enjoying himself, he's also quite hungry, and discovers he's also craving spending more time in Padmé's company.
Oh dear. He hopes that doesn't become a problem in the future. No matter how he feels for her, he can't allow himself to become distracted by thoughts of her at inopportune moments.
Rising from his kneeling position, he heads into the kitchen, thinking he's definitely going to have to visit with Master Yoda once they return to the capitol.
He decides on meditating in the bedroom, in front of the row of windows and providing soothing natural light. As he told Padmé earlier, this morning's meditation is more just a way to greet the day, rather than trying to work anything out. He had been awoken a little earlier than usual, and the emotional turmoil they'd danced around has left him feeling a little off-kilter, so re-centering himself is soothing and welcome, but not strictly needed. He listens, both with his ears as well as his Force sense, as the local wildlife begins waking up for the day, while the nocturnal creatures settle into their nests and dens for their own sleep cycle. He's going to miss this, when they return to Coruscant; even the Temple meditation gardens don't feel like this, artificial and isolated as they are.
He thinks he's going to miss a lot of things about this week, once it's over, not least of which is the ease of his and Padmé's friendship. He knows it will continue, but here and now, it's freeing knowing they have no responsibilities for this short time. Perhaps that's why he continues to find himself unconsciously flirting with her - for that is what he's doing, even if he's only now recognizing what the touches, the smiles, and the 'my lady's really are.
His internal clock tells him when it's been a half-hour, and while he's enjoying himself, he's also quite hungry, and discovers he's also craving spending more time in Padmé's company.
Oh dear. He hopes that doesn't become a problem in the future. No matter how he feels for her, he can't allow himself to become distracted by thoughts of her at inopportune moments.
Rising from his kneeling position, he heads into the kitchen, thinking he's definitely going to have to visit with Master Yoda once they return to the capitol.
That reassurance is all she needs to close her eyes, only a bare few minutes passing before she does indeed sleep. Having him beside her is a balm to her tired soul, and she hardly stirs during the next except to edge closer to his body as if seeking out the warmth of his spirit. She's been so alone these past months...
Nighttime is always hardest for Obi-Wan, because it is when things are the quietest, and his mind goes down paths he can distract himself from during the day. He's become something of an insomniac, not because he enjoys it, but because at least he can somewhat marshal his thoughts, whereas in dreams he loses so much of his control.
Laying beside Padmé, he 'listens' through the Force, to ensure her sleep stays pleasant. Now even more than earlier, he can feel just how tired she is, in both mind and body. When she turns toward him, he wraps an arm around her, comforting and taking comfort.
In this way, Obi-Wan passes the night, drifting in and out of sleep just enough to keep his body functional, but never enough that he might dream.
Laying beside Padmé, he 'listens' through the Force, to ensure her sleep stays pleasant. Now even more than earlier, he can feel just how tired she is, in both mind and body. When she turns toward him, he wraps an arm around her, comforting and taking comfort.
In this way, Obi-Wan passes the night, drifting in and out of sleep just enough to keep his body functional, but never enough that he might dream.
For all these months now, morning has been excruciating. Whatever dreams she'd had in the night were nothing compared to the terrible pain of waking and remembering all over again everything she'd lost. The aching absence of her children, her husband's transformation into someone she no longer recognized, the destruction of the ideals she'd believed in. It would all come crashing down upon her, threatening to break her spirit into another thousand tiny pieces, and she would struggle through the motions of putting herself back together in the daylight.
This morning is different. This morning, she wakes slowly and sees Obi-Wan's face and doesn't have to remember. She knows, before she opens her eyes, and it's heartbreaking progress that she might never have made on her own. Perhaps one day she'll find the words to thank him for his part in it.
"Did you sleep?" Her voice is soft, throat dry from the long hours that had passed, but she pays it no attention. Concern for her friend is all that matters in that moment.
This morning is different. This morning, she wakes slowly and sees Obi-Wan's face and doesn't have to remember. She knows, before she opens her eyes, and it's heartbreaking progress that she might never have made on her own. Perhaps one day she'll find the words to thank him for his part in it.
"Did you sleep?" Her voice is soft, throat dry from the long hours that had passed, but she pays it no attention. Concern for her friend is all that matters in that moment.
His lips move, but it's a smile in form only. "Define sleep," he quips easily, before assuring her, "I'm fine. How did you sleep?" He'd sensed no nightmares or uncomfortable dreams from her, but she still felt tired, to him, and he couldn't tell if that was from bad sleep, or the weight of all that's happened.
After a few seconds of actually contemplating his question, she decides, "Better than I have been." It wasn't the best sleep she'd ever had, but it had been better than the uneasy slumber that she'd faced since arriving on the planet. She's still tired, yes, but she can't remember what it feels like anymore to not be tired.
Pulling away slowly, she carefully sits up, the small bedroll not allowing for much space between them - not that she minds. "I'll have to leave soon," she explains, pushing her hair back behind her ears and rubbing at her scratchy eyes. "I'm helping with the last of the harvest today."
Pulling away slowly, she carefully sits up, the small bedroll not allowing for much space between them - not that she minds. "I'll have to leave soon," she explains, pushing her hair back behind her ears and rubbing at her scratchy eyes. "I'm helping with the last of the harvest today."
Obi-Wan sits up as well, affording a little more room, but doesn't try to put any more distance between them. He nods at her explanation. "That's fine. Is there anything I can do around here, to help you?" He doesn't particularly want anyone to know he's here, though that depends entirely on how long he ends up staying. He doesn't think he'll be here long enough to make it worth finding any sort of job, but he refuses to do nothing to help Padmé out.
Is there anything... She frowns slightly, not having expected the question or for him to even stay long enough to consider such a thing. In her heart, she'd been hoping he would stay at least another night, but she couldn't bring herself to believe it might happen.
"I need more firewood," she finally says, voicing the first simple task she can think of. There are a dozen other things she needs to do around the small house, from resealing the windows to filling in cracks around the doors to prepare for winter. Everything could use a good deep cleaning, there's a tear in her extra blanket... Little things that have added up but that she refuses to put on him. No, the firewood will be enough, and there are plenty of old trees in the large forest behind the house.
"I need more firewood," she finally says, voicing the first simple task she can think of. There are a dozen other things she needs to do around the small house, from resealing the windows to filling in cracks around the doors to prepare for winter. Everything could use a good deep cleaning, there's a tear in her extra blanket... Little things that have added up but that she refuses to put on him. No, the firewood will be enough, and there are plenty of old trees in the large forest behind the house.
Firewood is a simple enough task, and Obi-Wan nods easily in agreement.
When she returns, Padmé will discover that while Obi-Wan did indeed replenish a good supply of firewood, he also wandered the house and found many of the 'little things' that needed doing, and... well, did them. Having recently repaired his own new home (that had stood abandoned for quite some time before he'd purchased it, out in the middle of nowhere on Tatooine), he recognizes what needs weather-proofing, and knows how to do it. Cleaning and removing grime and soot aren't even deep cleaning to him, but an every day occurrence on the desert planet, so her home is now, if not spotless, at least much more hospitable. Windows and doors no longer allow drafts. He tried figuring out a way to better insulate the small home, but that was one area in which his own abode was fortunate, being designed and constructed already prepared to hold in the cool air during daytime and stave off the chill at night.
There is a fire burning low in the hearth, ready to be stoked. He hadn't wanted to go through all the wood he'd just finished gathering, but Obi-Wan is sitting as close as he can without fear of embers landing on his tunic. He's already started to acclimate to Tatooine's hot climate, it seems. Despite not having reached his fourth decade yet, the cold seems to sink into his bones much more easily these days.
When she returns, Padmé will discover that while Obi-Wan did indeed replenish a good supply of firewood, he also wandered the house and found many of the 'little things' that needed doing, and... well, did them. Having recently repaired his own new home (that had stood abandoned for quite some time before he'd purchased it, out in the middle of nowhere on Tatooine), he recognizes what needs weather-proofing, and knows how to do it. Cleaning and removing grime and soot aren't even deep cleaning to him, but an every day occurrence on the desert planet, so her home is now, if not spotless, at least much more hospitable. Windows and doors no longer allow drafts. He tried figuring out a way to better insulate the small home, but that was one area in which his own abode was fortunate, being designed and constructed already prepared to hold in the cool air during daytime and stave off the chill at night.
There is a fire burning low in the hearth, ready to be stoked. He hadn't wanted to go through all the wood he'd just finished gathering, but Obi-Wan is sitting as close as he can without fear of embers landing on his tunic. He's already started to acclimate to Tatooine's hot climate, it seems. Despite not having reached his fourth decade yet, the cold seems to sink into his bones much more easily these days.
The day seems longer than all the others have, now that she has someone waiting for her at home. It's harder to focus on the pain wrapped around her heart with something to look forward to, and today she doesn't refuse the offer of a basket of fresh produce, or the leftover bread she helps to bake. When asked about it, she simply explains that she will have company for dinner, and the woman who runs the bakery smiled knowingly. It was easier to not correct the misconceptions.
The walk home seems to go more quickly that night, her steps a little lighter despite the chill that reddens her cheeks, and she reaches the tiny house just as the sun dips below the horizon. Giving Obi-Wan a smile as she moves through the space, setting the basket down on the small table before tugging off her coat.
"You've been busy," she remarks, having immediately noticed at least a few of the changes in the space. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. You didn't have to, but thank you."
The walk home seems to go more quickly that night, her steps a little lighter despite the chill that reddens her cheeks, and she reaches the tiny house just as the sun dips below the horizon. Giving Obi-Wan a smile as she moves through the space, setting the basket down on the small table before tugging off her coat.
"You've been busy," she remarks, having immediately noticed at least a few of the changes in the space. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. You didn't have to, but thank you."
Silently, he watches her enter, his thoughts focusing outward once again as Padmé arrives. Obi-Wan quirks his lips in a small smile, nodding at her thanks. "It was nothing. I discovered today that once I started doing, I didn't want to stop at just the firewood." It was true, if not the only truth. He'd wanted to keep busy; he'd wanted to help her; he'd wanted to think about inconsequential things, instead of the thoughts usually swirling around his head when he was alone.
"I'm not very good at sitting on my hands all day," he offers by way of explanation. "Besides, I'll probably run through most of your firewood and have to gather more again before I leave. I feel like I'm in an ice box, and I'm well-aware that it's not even winter here, yet."
"I'm not very good at sitting on my hands all day," he offers by way of explanation. "Besides, I'll probably run through most of your firewood and have to gather more again before I leave. I feel like I'm in an ice box, and I'm well-aware that it's not even winter here, yet."
He's living somewhere warm now. It doesn't take any effort to conclude, since she knows he'd spent so much of life on Coruscant - even on the city planet, they'd had varying temperatures. For him to be reacting so strongly to just a gentle chill...
"The people in town have been saying this winter will be fairly harsh," she comments, carefully unpacking the basket of produce. "There isn't much trade here, so it's good that the harvest has gone well."
"The people in town have been saying this winter will be fairly harsh," she comments, carefully unpacking the basket of produce. "There isn't much trade here, so it's good that the harvest has gone well."
He realizes only too late what he's given away, and inwardly curses himself. While Padmé may not realize how close she is to Tatooine, if he mentions that's where he resides now, she is more than smart enough to discern that he's there for a reason, and that that reason is most likely one of her children.
"I will remember in future to only visit during the summer, then," he says mildly, watching for her reaction. He came to the conclusion today that his visit wasn't just for her sake, and it has done wonders to help bolster his own resolve, as well.
"I will remember in future to only visit during the summer, then," he says mildly, watching for her reaction. He came to the conclusion today that his visit wasn't just for her sake, and it has done wonders to help bolster his own resolve, as well.
Something in her chest tightens at those words, and she knows that he's probably just joking, letting out a ghost of the sense of humor he used to have, but... Still, it unsettles her, the idea of not seeing him again for all those months. The year here is shorter than on Naboo, the rotation around the sun not as long, but already she's dreading when he'll leave to return to whatever warm planet he's living on now.
"That'll make for a lonely winter," she replies in the same tone, trying not to let on how much she hopes he isn't serious.
"That'll make for a lonely winter," she replies in the same tone, trying not to let on how much she hopes he isn't serious.
If anything, he'd been expecting her to tell him it isn't necessary for him to come back. It both pleases and distresses him that she seems to be saying the opposite.
Standing, he moves toward her until he can take her hand in both of his. "Could I stay, I would. I think even just one night has done both of us more good than either of us expected. Unfortunately, I have responsibilities, even in exile. Next time, I will make sure I'm prepared for a much longer leave, so that we may have more time together."
Standing, he moves toward her until he can take her hand in both of his. "Could I stay, I would. I think even just one night has done both of us more good than either of us expected. Unfortunately, I have responsibilities, even in exile. Next time, I will make sure I'm prepared for a much longer leave, so that we may have more time together."
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