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While the marriage was more just a contract than any sort of personal declaration for either of them, Obi-Wan finds himself and Padmé alone in the house on the lake that her family owned. Since it's a professional contract, the week-long sabbatical is never called a 'honeymoon', but to Obi-Wan, that's certainly what it feels like.

Alone and isolated with his new 'wife'.

It was always a possibility that he would end up in one of these arranged marriages, sub-contracted from the Jedi Order into personal protection. Life-long commitments aren't new to him. What he hadn't expected was to know, to be at least casual friends with, the person he ended up protecting. Married to.

Despite being raised in this environment and culture where 'marriage' often meant 'contractually obligated protection', it still feels far too intimate for him to reconcile with his Jedi training of having no attachments. Marriage is the ultimate attachment.

And Padmé... Padmé was no longer the fourteen-year-old Queen or handmaiden that he'd known. Surprisingly, they had kept in touch, though it had been more casual than actually being friends; but whenever they were both on Coruscant, or duty took him to Naboo - it happened more frequently now that Palpatine was Chancellor - they usually found time to meet up and chat for a while, perhaps grab a bite to eat together.

Now here they are. Together for life. No more need for catching up, as they are essentially obligated to live in each other's pocket, from now on. It's going to take some getting used to.

Tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe, Obi-Wan begins wandering the space. He'd already (casually) checked all the rooms to make sure they were secure; now he allows himself to really see the details of the space, to register the decorations and furniture, in a way other than just 'that looks heavy enough to be used as a weapon or blockade'. There is a small itching at the base of his neck suggesting that he should say something, but he's long learned to ignore it.

If he's no longer supposed to ignore it where Padmé is concerened, it's going to take a while to re-learn. He's never been anything other than a Jedi.

Another mission completed, another bit of downtime granted to Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker.

Anakin, as always, wanted to go visit Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, out of Senate for the season and back on Naboo. Obi-Wan really should have curtailed the frequency of the boy's visits to the Chancellor. Not that Palpatine seemed bothered by them; he seemed charmed by the boy, as much as a jaded politician could be, and Anakin had always been whip-smart and precocious, enjoying the company of adults and conversing with them. Obi-Wan just didn't have the heart to keep Anakin away from the one pseudo-friend he seemed to have.

Obi-Wan should have stopped the visit, but instead he'd agreed, letting Anakin stay in their rooms on Naboo, while he visited a nearby planet, trying - half-heartedly - to entice Anakin to join him, speaking of the natural waterfalls that changed hues as they fell, the lush gardenscapes of the local resorts on-planet. Anakin, as was typical, had no interest in nature, and waved him off with a wrinkle of his nose and a joking "have fun, old man Kenobi." To which Obi-Wan had responded "That's Master Old Man Kenobi to you, my young Padawan!"

It was night now, and the ethereal light that constantly played off the cascading waters reflects off the walls of the hotel room. Leaning forward on the bed, he presses a kiss to the naked shoulder beside him.

"We're missing quite the show," he murmurs. "Again."

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”

Four months ago, the universe changed and Padmé Amidala lost everything she loved.

Her husband, her children, her home. Friends, family. Hope. Every last shred of what she held most dear was torn from her soul and she was left clinging to life with a broken heart, as if hanging on by bare fingertips. Hidden away in a remote village on an even more remote planet in the Outer Rim, she couldn't be farther from Naboo and Coruscant, from anything that reminded her of what she'd lost...

Everything reminded her. Each morning when she woke alone in the small bed rolled out upon the worn stone floor. When she walked the hour to the nearby village and saw the mothers carrying children while they worked. When she returned home from a long day of work to continue toiling by firelight. When she cried herself to sleep and prayed to the gods of Naboo that her children were safe. Each day that passed was like a thousand.

Each day that passed was harder than the last, and all that kept her going was a singular thought, a possibility that may never take shape: One day, her children might need her.

Waking up in an unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar bed, Jacen felt a momentary surge of panic. He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t; everything just hurt.

He closed his eyes to steady himself, breathing deeply against the pain. A few things began to come back — the massive solar storm, the coralcraft being torn apart, being forced into an escape pod by a travel companion he couldn’t put a face or name to. He remembered slipping into some sort of meditation, trying to find a semblance of peace even as he was hurtling through space, being pulled in all directions.

People had said that he and his siblings all had that charming, roguish look about them, courtesy of their father. But the years forced on him by the Vong during his captivity had hardened his features, bringing out that air of steely fierceness from his mother’s side of the family tree.

“The past has been there all along, reminding us:
This time--maybe, hopefully, against all odds, we will get it right.”

Four years ago, the galaxy changed. Democracy had been crushed under the boots of an army that spread across the stars, washing away every trace of how things had once been, like a river flooding over a field.

Four years ago, Padmé Amidala lost everything she loved in that flood. Her husband, children, and home, friends, family and hope, all of it swept away on the tide. Every last shred of what she held most dear was torn from her soul and she was left clinging to life with a broken heart, as if hanging on by bare fingertips. Hidden away in a remote village on an even more remote planet in the Outer Rim, she couldn't be farther from Naboo or Coruscant, from anything that reminded her of what she'd lost... Or any who might remember her.

In those first months after she had come to this little world, every day had been excruciating. Everything reminded her of the life she was supposed to live and all that she had lost. Each morning she woke alone in the small bed rolled out upon the worn stone floor. She walked the hour to the nearby village to work for a meager wage, returning home late in the day to continue toiling by firelight. Each night she cried herself to sleep and prayed to the gods of Naboo that her children were safe. Every day that passed was like a thousand.

And then a thousand really did pass and somehow... things did get a little easier. The pain of her loss was a part of her now, a scar on her heart that no longer felt out of place. For so long, each day that passed had been harder than the last, and all that kept her going was a singular thought: One day, her children might need her. Now, though... Now she paid penance for her guilt in all that had transpired, going through the same monotonous daily routine. Wake, work, sleep. Again, and again.

She never expected that her life would change again so suddenly and without warning, but when does one ever expect to see a streak of smoke trailing behind a ship entering the atmosphere at the wrong angle and speed, that streak wavering as the ship tried to straighten itself - a valiant effort that failed in a spectacular crash in the forest so near her home.

For one split second, Padmé was afraid. The Empire, was this one of theirs? Would helping this ship lead to her discovery? Would this be her end? But those thoughts were left behind as instinct urged her forward along the path from the village, racing across the open fields and not hesitating to run headfirst into the trees.

Somebody get me a hammer, wanna break all the clocks and the mirrors
And go back to a time that was different, a time when I didn't feel like there was something missing
Now my body and mind are so distant, don't know how to escape from this prison ♪

The galaxy had changed while Padmé Amidala slept.

Sleeping was the easiest way for her to comprehend what had happened to her. Some sort of stasis, an experimental technology kept from the Senate's knowledge, some thing had kept her alive all these years, unchanged, only to wake alone and without answers. It took days for her to grasp the magnitude of her situation, hiding on the outskirts of a city on an Inner Rim planet from the soldiers who walked the streets with terrible purpose. The years that had passed, the rise of the a power she had fought so desperately against...

Finally, she reached out to an old friend, an ally she stilled hoped she could trust. The plan Bail Organa put into place was elaborate and more dangerous than any in which she had ever taken part, but with the state of the galaxy she understood the risks. She was both liability and asset, but the Emperor could not know she was alive. Sheev Palpatine could not know.

It was a nightmare from which she would never wake.

With her hair cut and her dress plain, Padmé waited for the contact she'd been promised. What lay ahead for her was unknown, a safeguard for herself and the group fighting to restore the Republic, but she trusted Bail. Her faith in him was all she had left.

The galaxy had changed so quickly. Everything they had ever known about it had suddenly been turned on its head in a matter of days. The Jedi were no more, the Republic was now the Empire, and someone they both dearly loved was gone. But now they were fugitives, on the run from the very entity they had sworn to protect and preserve.

After the events on Mustafar, with Padme giving birth to twins, they had taken refuge on Alderaan under Bail Organa's protection. Their shared friend had issued reports of their deaths to help hide them from their pursuers. After Padme had time to rest and heal, they needed to go into hiding. They were issued new identities, given a small worn down ship, and supplies to last them for some time. In what had been a whirlwind of events, they eventually found themselves on the remote planet of Lah'Mu in the Outer Rim.

Kenobi was a common name, and rather unsuspecting despite the fact that there was a Jedi with it on top of the wanted fugitives list. Obi-Wan had decided to change his first name to Ben, an old code name he had used once or twice. While a single man with the name might stand out among records, one with a wife and two children would not be so easily noticed. Especially when they appeared to be an ordinary young family who were joining a group of settlers.

With Bail covering their tracks, they plunged into their new life. Acquiring an out of the way plot of land outside of a small settlement. A run down house already stood there, having been abandoned by previous owners who had decided this life wasn't for them.

Only a few days into having arrived, before they could fully get settled, a storm had proved that the structure wasn't as sturdy as they hoped. Thus the next day found Obi-Wan on the roof. The former Jedi Master of renown banging away as he tore off old roof slats and replaced them. He knew this would have to be done sooner or later, but it proved to be sooner as the leaks had been significant. He was not used to this sort of work, he had been a Jedi and a General in a war after all, but he would have to. This was their life now. He was just an ordinary man with an ordinary family living an ordinary life.

Edited 2019-04-19 14:20 (UTC)

One look and I can't catch my breath
Two souls into one flesh
When you're not next to me
I'm incomplete

Soulmates. What a strange concept it is, the idea that there is a being out in the galaxy whom you are destined to be with. For someone whose life has been governed by reason and passion tempered by practicality, it's often hard for Padmé to accept as a reality. She's known only a handful of beings who have actually found that destined someone, most never having their identifier appear and learning to accept and embrace the love they do find in life.

Love itself is a thing she's had so little experience with. A few fleeting moments of attraction have been pushed aside all her life in order to focus on her career, on serving her people and following the path she truly feels she was destined for. Yes, she would like to have a family of her own one day — that had been her plan before Queen Réillata had requested her take up the role of Senator. And now, with so many years of work still not seeing the results she's pursued, she can't imagine leaving her post anytime soon. Her personal life can wait.

Of course, she needs to be alive in order to set her personal life aside. And as reluctant as she is to admit that additional security might be needed, the grief and guilt over the loss of a dear friend is far more effective at convincing her than any of Typho's entreatments. She would do this to avoid delays and further casualties. Reconnecting with someone she'd once trusted with her life is merely a small benefit in the grand scheme of things.

For years, this is all I've known,
this has had my heart, this has been my home
And now I'm scared to lose myself, scared of letting go ♪

[ The galaxy had changed while Padmé Amidala slept.

Sleeping was the easiest way for her to comprehend what had happened to her. Some sort of stasis, an experimental technology kept from the Senate's knowledge, something had kept her alive all these years, unchanged, only to wake alone and without answers. It took days for her to grasp the magnitude of her situation, hiding on the outskirts of a city on an Inner Rim planet from the soldiers who walked the streets with terrible purpose. The years that had passed, the rise of a power she had fought so desperately against...

And she'd woken too late to join her children in the fight to right the wrongs she should never have allowed to happen. It is the guilt and grief that keeps her away from them now, two years after she'd woken — guilt and grief that drives her to search out any remaining Imperial units and share what information she learned with a contact in the New Republic. Small as it is, she spends every day working toward erasing the scourge of the galaxy that she'd enabled through ignorance and inaction. Because she has to keep her children safe in any way she can.

For now, the way has led her to a backwater planet and a settlement being covered in a coating of snow. The few locals still out in the swiftly falling white move quickly toward their homes or the nearest inn or bar, seeking shelter from the brisk wind. With her hair cut and her dress far plainer than it had ever been, she moves less quickly than the others, taking her time and stepping carefully through the inches of snow already on the ground, watching her surroundings just as carefully while looking for anyone of particular note. ]

[ Uli can't help but to be reminded of his arid homeworld every time he steps out of his (allegedly) climate-controlled cube and into the glaring sunlight that bears down on the center of the camp like a cruel glare. The uncomfortable grittiness of the sand trapped between his socks and the otherwise-bare skin of his ankles as he crosses camp to greet the LAAT as it touches down on the landing zone - that's familiar too.

He's hardly the picture of civilized society as he savors the downwash of the landing from a safe distance, Republic jumpsuit unzipped to the waist in an attempt to allow body heat to leave through the sweat-yellowed tee shirt of his desert phase skivvies. The harsh sunlight glints off the twin dogtags that separate him from the Republic's cloned soldiers as he waits for the brownout to clear—his draft board took ownership of his body in every other way, but there's no identification chip implanted in his wrist. Uli Divini had the good fortune of being born and not cloned.

He knows better than to step into the blinding cloud and get a lungful of sand, so he waits, holding a rag over his nose and mouth to filter out the few sharp particles that make their way to where he stands. Man-made thunder booms on the horizon, familiar enough by now to be identifiable as Republic shelling, not Separatist. It still means wounded in a few hours, though, so they'll need to be quick in getting the new nurse set up.

By the time the sand has settled back into its rightful place on the ground and formed a thin layer over the LZ, the chief nurse's latest acquisition is already stepping out of the transport. She looks sorely out of place simply from the lack of grime on her person, though he knows it won't last long - Amidala's face isn't glistening like it probably will be in about five minutes; her hair lacks the unwashed look the weight of sweat has given his and every other human's, but that, too, will come with time.

Uli waves with the arm that isn't holding up the rag and makes a sweeping come-here gesture. They have to get out of the way before Drenn can get off the ground, and judging by the stacks of boxes strapped down in the hold, she's got other things to do today. He shouts his greeting, partly because of the distance and partly because of the low, loud hum of the LAAT's idling engine. ]

Right this way! And don't worry about the shelling, those are ours, not theirs!

Edited 2020-05-22 23:03 (UTC)


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Arranged Marriage - Can Never Be - Into More