Fanfic

Free Web Hosting Provider - Web Hosting - E-commerce - High Speed Internet - Free Web Page

She wasn't nervous at all. She had always dreamt of this day, when she would finally marry the man of her dreams. So the fact that she felt as she would any other day irritated her more than it should have.

Maybe it bothered her so because she'd never been completely certain. For the past ten years she'd been surrounded almost constantly by both men. They both were so often at her beck and call. And the situation was really very complex: one, five years younger than she, a student, certainly more attractive, but always vaguely sinister, immature; the other, several years her senior, a master now, and, though lacking the other's primal good looks, far more thoughtful, considerate, respectful. At one point, she had decided never to choose, that picking one over the other would only put more pressure on their already slightly tense relationships. Later, she realized that not choosing would only perpetuate the situation; the long pauses, the awkward conversations, the arguments, the triangle of affections would continue unchecked forever. No, she would agree to marry whomever asked first for her hand. She had no preference - or had she. No, she'd always preferred the younger. He had been so much more straight-forward. She remembered with a smile... walking into the junk dealer's shop, greeted by a young boy who, upon being left alone with her, asked if she were an angel. Yes, that was the man she would marry. But he'd never understood her fully. No, she'd rather marry the older. He could follow her thoughts, predict what she was about to say, even. Those early days when he was just beginning to train the boy were some of the best of her life. Walking with him at night, after the boy was asleep, in the beautiful gardens, gazing up at the stars as he dabbled kisses along her neck and...

Amidala stood and looked into the mirror. She looked as well as could be expected.

Maybe she wasn't nervous simply because she had desensitized herself. She had been elected queen at fourteen, after all. She couldn't afford to be distracted by fear, or nervousness, or love... But as her mind drifted back to those carefree nights with Obi-Wan, she knew that not to be true. She had felt love, for one man only...

There was nothing to be done now. She was about to marry Anakin. Besides, her people wanted to see her marry him - she was twenty-four, and some people were already nervous that she would never marry, and they would much prefer a war hero to a fanatic of some ancient, if thriving, religion. For the Naboo, then, she told herself. If not for me, for the Naboo.

She drew her gaze quickly from her mind's eye, where she continued to relive nights with Obi-Wan regardless of her newest decision, to the present. Perhaps she did look a little tired, but with the last-minute plans she'd had to make, that was only reasonable. No one will notice, she reasoned.

She unscrewed the cap from the vial of deep red powder she had chosen for the occasion and, with a practiced hand, tapped out a miniscule amount. She added drops of water, one by one, until the powder became a thin paste. Using her brush, she painted her top lip, her scar of remembrance, and her beauty marks, exactly as she'd done every day for the past ten years.

She stepped away from the small mirror and, noting the time, checked her gown one more time in the full-length gilt mirror opposite her. She was again pleased that she'd succeeded in her campaign for a simpler gown for the wedding. The neckline recalled the deep scoop of her celebration gown. She smoothed the fabric of spun silver as it fell snugly from an empire waist. The countless tiny diamonds, which multiplied near the hem, sparkled as she straightened the train, extending a full ten feet behind her. Bell sleeves reminiscent of her now-famous throne room gown fell back as she lifted her arms to smooth her hair, which had been wound into two massive coils, one hanging over each ear, and interwoven with fine shimmering silver thread. A beautiful gown, perfect in its simplicity, and very lightweight and cool, in anticipation of a sweaty-palmed nervousness which, she noted again, had failed to come.

And before her mind had a chance to again follow that thought, Amidala stepped quickly through the door and into the main room of her chamber.

The boy is being typically hyperactive. It's miraculous, Obi-Wan thought, that in the ten years I've been training him, nothing has ever been broken.

Obi-Wan scolded himself again. Anakin was hardly just a boy now; he was a nineteen year old man on his wedding day. He is about to marry his first love - my first love. Obi-Wan stood to close his door, catching a glimpse of Anakin gesturing wildly to a hologram of an old friend from the Outer Rim. Finally alone in his room, Obi-Wan took off his heavy robe and, as a single tear slid down his cheek, curled into a ball on his bed.

It seemed so unfair. It was because of himself that Anakin had met Amidala in the first place. And the boy was just nine at the time, hardly a threat. He imagined that he'd been in love with Amidala from the moment he first met her; he was certain to keep his feelings for her separate from his opinions of her decisions. And although he was unsure whether she returned his feelings during the war, he knew that not long afterward, undoubtedly she did. They had spent so much time together. He remembered fondly the entire nights they had wandered the palace grounds talking, sharing secrets, dreams, fears, going the next day without sleep, the millions of delicate, loving kisses he had showered on her... It's a miracle, he thought, that the boy had never -

Anakin was in the next room. With his incredible sensitivity to the Force, he could easily have picked up not only on his master's misery, but even its cause. It would be profoundly tragic for the boy to find out today, his wedding day, that his master and wife-to-be had been in love for ten years, and that they had concealed it from him entirely. Obi-Wan concentrated all the more on shielding his thoughts.

It was indeed quite a miracle that the boy had never discovered the deep, passionate relationship between Obi-Wan and Amidala. They had been meticulous, even obsessive, in keeping it secret. The handmaidens and Panaka, of course, knew instantly; it took only a stern glance from their queen to swear them to secrecy. Likewise with the Jedi Council - Yoda had picked up on Obi-Wan's affections quickly, as did the rest of the Council, but Obi-Wan never even felt the need to confront them on the topic. Few others, to his knowledge, ever learned of it.

Obi-Wan's mind, on its journey for others who had been aware of the relationship, erred on its course to a day four years before. It was a beautiful early autumn night on Naboo; the trees in the vast forests were beginning to change color, and Obi-Wan had decided to surprise his soulmate with a midnight picnic in the woods outside Theed. He was certain that the boy was long ago asleep. Though Anakin was then fifteen, he never challenged his master when told that he must be in bed by eleven. Obi-Wan had made all the arrangements: a speeder, loaded with more food than the couple could possibly eat in a week, was waiting outside, and he'd already cleared the trip with Panaka.

Obi-Wan went to Amidala's chamber, and instead of receiving the usual cheerful greeting from one of the queen's handmaidens, he was asked by a veiled face if he could possibly call again, as Her Majesty had already gone to sleep. As he was about to concede, he heard the saddened voice of his love.

"Who is it?" she managed between sniffles. The veiled face turned, responded, "Obi-Wan." Amidala gasped quietly before asking that he be allowed in.

The door opened the rest of the way, and by the time he'd entered, the veiled figure had disappeared entirely; the handmaidens were nowhere to be seen. Amidala led him over to the sofa on which she'd been sitting. She looked as though she were grieving as she explained to him that Anakin had just left. He had come, she said, to tell her that although he realized that she, a twenty year old queen, must have countless suitors, he was startlingly certain that he had fallen in love with her. She was taken completely aback; she had known since the moment they'd met, she said, that he was a prodigious flirt, but she'd never conceived of the notion that he could actually love anyone.

Although she looked as though she had more to say, Obi-Wan stopped her. "Maybe then, we should break -" - he searched for the right word, but fell short - " - this... off." Amidala looked at him with huge, frightened eyes as he continued. "If Anakin does love you, he'll pick up on us. He knows now how to use the Force. He will pick up on your..." Again he trailed off.

Amidala's faced wrinkled with sadness as she attempted to speak. "But you're the --"

Obi-Wan held a single finger to her lips. "It's most important that Anakin completes his training unaware. He will balance the Force. He must never know." He paused, fiercely blinking back tears. "I will always love you. No matter what. Even should you marry him, I will always love you with all my heart."

That phrase - "marry him" - had been surprisingly simple for him to say those years ago; he'd never imagined it would happen. He stopped short, as he always did, of reliving that final, bittersweet kiss. He remembered the walk back to his chamber. He knew he could do nothing. He couldn't scold the boy for breaking curfew, because it was Amidala who had informed him, and he certainly couldn't reveal his despair. The boy, with all his innate power, was equally fragile; any such upset could turn him. For only the second time in his life, Obi-Wan was utterly powerless.

Over and over he had wished that they could have consummated the relationship. They had come so close, but the fact remained that doing so could destroy them. Amidala was expected to be entirely virginal until she wed; though Obi-Wan was not sworn to celibacy, he feared that the boy would learn of them. And so his devotion to Amidala, his true love, his soulmate, continued.

Obi-Wan sprang up, wiping his face with the back of his hands. Still shielding his feelings, he reminded himself that today was Anakin's day... Anakin's day... Anakin's day...

"Are you okay in --" Anakin stopped as the door in front of him retracted, revealing his tired but apparently content master. "Oh... alright."

"Well, I was talking to Kitster, from back ho- on Tatooine. I hadn't heard from him in years! He said he'd heard I was almost a Jedi, and I was getting married to a queen from someplace called Naboo, and he thought he'd try to get in touch with me to congratulate me and all. I guess while I was talking with him, I didn't realize you'd shut the door, and then I didn't hear anything in here, and I didn't know if you were okay, so --"

Anakin was so excited. He never could have imagined being so excited for any reason, but here he was.

Today will be the perfect day, he told himself. Amidala's taken care of everything. The Supreme Chancellor and Master Yoda are already here...

He remembered his mother. He tried, at any rate - it had been ten years, after all, and he could only barely remember her. Only feelings - the warmth of her voice, her radiance when she first met Master Qui-Gon, the pain in her face when he had to leave... He recalled his fury when he learned of her death. He had sent a transmission to Watto's shop to inform her of his engagement to Amidala - a queen! - when his former owner told him that three years earlier, she had disappeared. He'd sent her to help install a hyperdrive in a customer's ship, but during her return, a fierce sandstorm had blown in out of nowhere, and no trace of her had ever been found. The news sent Anakin, then seventeen, into a rage. Why hadn't he been notified then? What had happened to her belongings, her quarters, the protocol droid he'd built for her? He threatened more than once to personally wring Watto's neck if he wouldn't explain the failure of communication, but the Taydorian remained silent.

Amidala, he knew, had been frightened by her fianc�'s response, his primal anger. She had asked him at one point whether they should go through with the marriage, if every time he looked at her, he was reminded of his mother. After that, he tried to control himself. But in retrospect, he wondered. It all seemed too convenient - his mother, returning from the ship of an unnamed client, disappeared without a trace in a surprise storm, and her son, her only relative, was not informed. Anakin had never been sure of what happened. He didn't want to suspect Watto; as much as he'd hated working for the bastard, it was because of him that Anakin had been identified and freed. Still, Anakin sensed on some instinctual level a dark presence in her death. When he'd told Master Obi-Wan of his feeling, Obi-Wan suggested that perhaps there had been Sith involvement. The motive remained unclear, but Anakin accepted the theory as fact for the simple reason that his master had presented it.

None of Anakin's old Tatooine friends would be at the ceremony. This, he supposed, he'd expected; they were all slaves like he'd been, and at nineteen they too were at the peak of their strength. He had been surprised that Kitster had ever known. Maybe Watto had posted a bulletin near the slaves' quarters, done something to inform them. And Anakin had virtually no friends on Naboo either. He'd spent his first six years here as a young war hero, then he became the queen's beau, then her fianc�. Between his status with the Naboo and his training, he'd never had any time or opportunity to make friends on his new home. Amidala, Master Obi-Wan, Jar Jar, the handmaidens, sometimes - they were his only real friends.

But the wedding would nonetheless be huge. It would be the most important event for the Naboo since the war. It was anticipated that virtually every citizen of Theed and the nearby towns and cities would come, dressed in their most elegant finery. Thousands upon thousands... all watching him...

I don't have long, Anakin thought. I need to get ready. All the while, he'd been absent-mindedly getting dressed in full padawan regalia, which he and Master Obi-Wan had determined would be most appropriate for the occasion. He wound the ivory cloth around his small waist, pressing his gauzy tunic snugly into his skin. Over that he fastened his belt, surprisingly light without the added weight of his lightsaber. He had ordered new boots especially for the wedding, and the leather squeaked as he pulled them onto his feet. He grabbed his robe, freshly laundered, and, before laying it over his arm, inhaled deeply its scent. It smelled sweetly of Naboo.

Amidala found her handmaidens already dressed and prepared when she entered the main room of her chamber. The beauty of their dresses equaled that of hers: icy purple velvet, shimmering silver in the afternoon sun, fell from carefully fitted bodices into a full skirt that grazed their toes. Fine translucent lavender veils, held in place by sparkling amethyst pins, draped over their heads and extended several feet behind them, concealing intricate braids. Snug half-sleeves ended in an elegant rounded point just above their elbows. Amidala smiled as it became apparent to her that each handmaiden had been fitted individually, so perfect were the dresses. The young women returned the gesture and approached the queen, examining this new gown kindly with their eyes. As the queen took a breath to compliment her handmaidens' dresses, the hallway door slid open to reveal a surprisingly anxious Chief Panaka.

"Queen, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine is awaiting your arrival. He says he has some matters to discuss with you before the ceremony commences."

As Amidala walked quickly out into the corridor, followed closely by her handmaidens, a voice deep in the farthest reaches of her mind whispered, Can't his matters wait? I'm being married today.

Anakin found his best man in the palace's private sun gallery. Obi-Wan had been sitting in the high-ceiling room for easily an hour, absentmindedly watching hundreds of thousands of Naboo citizens assemble in the gardens below to claim the best vantage points. Though the walls of windows, interrupted only occasionally by a richly-colored thin wooden frame, allowed the sun to pour in and warm the room, Obi-Wan was surprisingly cold, withdrawn.

He had been thinking. He had spent the past hour trying to decide whether or not to inform the groom of his future wife's previous relationship. He had told Amidala the night they ended, that Anakin must never know, for fear he might turn to the Dark Side of the Force, but he was slowly rethinking that decision. The boy was nineteen, old enough now to understand the value of truth delayed. Honesty, not secrecy, would be best now. He made up his mind to tell Anakin only the most skeletal details of his affair with Amidala: that for six years they had been lovers, but when Anakin's emotions for the queen became apparent, they had ended the relationship, reasoning that it was in the boy's best interest.

Seeing Anakin, dressed for the ceremony and adorned with his war decorations, spawned doubts in Obi-Wan's mind. Gingerly, he set his concerns aside as he asked the smiling young man to sit down with him.

"What's wrong?" Anakin asked as his expression transformed into one of sincere concern.

"Anakin --" Already, tears were welling in Obi-Wan's eyes. "I need to tell you something. Something... something that won't be easy for you to hear."

Anakin's eyes widened as his pupils constricted with fear. "Yes?" he whispered in a raspy tone.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath before continuing. Gods, let him take this well. Please, gods, keep his allegiance here. "In the years before you and Queen Amidala were... involved... she... and I... were..." Obi-Wan's voice trailed off. He added the last two words - "in love" - in a silent whisper. Pausing to find his voice and his composure, he continued. "From shortly after the Trade Federation conflict until the night you... expressed your feelings to her, she and I were deeply and inextricably involved. We decided then to wait to tell you until we felt you were old and mature enough to cope responsibly with this news."

Anakin's face was expressionless with shock. "But... I never knew... never so much as dreamt that..."

"I realize that. It is as we had intended. Very few people ever knew. We didn't want anything to interfere with your training."

Suddenly a threatening anger flashed into the young man's eyes. "You honestly believed that withholding that tiny detail, that my wife and my master were... involved - were... lovers - for four years, would make it easier for me to accept? That's what you thought?" Obi-Wan avoided his eyes. "I was fifteen then. If Amidala had told me that night that she was already in love - regardless of with whom - I could have dealt with it much better than I can now!" Hatred joined the anger in Anakin's eyes. "You'd be lucky if I didn't turn right now!"

Obi-Wan immediately became a master, strict and prepared to enforce. Sternly, deliberately, he spoke to his padawan through gritted teeth. "Don't you ever - ever - say that." Anakin stared at him as though feigning innocence. "The Force - the Dark Side of the Force - is nothing to be taken lightly." The master paused. "This time, and only because of the added pressure of your wedding, I won't take action. But if you ever - ever - say that again, the Council will take swift and severe disciplinary action against you. Do you understand me?"

Anakin said nothing. For many interminable moments he glared at his master through invisible slitted eyes, shaking with fury. Then he stood, knocking his heavy chair backward with a deafening crash, and stormed out of the gallery.

Obi-Wan let his head fall to the table in front of him as he sobbed uncontrollably. Suddenly, one word came to him.

He quickly left the gallery, fearing that Anakin's blind wrath might find her before he did.

Obi-Wan was frantic. He feared not for himself, but for his love. He tried to remain calm as he hurried through the palace corridors to her chamber. Maybe she shouldn't marry him at all; he reacts so violently to any disappointment. Or maybe he was just insanely jealous. Obi-Wan had often pondered his feelings about Amidala's new love. Of course he secretly envied his padawan; it was only natural to be jealous of the boy who had stolen his soulmate. But he still wondered whether he was at the point of trying to sabotage their relationship. If she were emotionally wounded deeply enough, she would become vulnerable and might return to Obi-Wan after four long years...

No. He had only been doing what he felt was right. He had tried to tell his padawan of the secret affair as gently as possible. He was not at fault; he could never have predicted that Anakin would become as enraged as he had.

Obi-Wan decided this was true with a determination yet unknown to him. I need to know my truth before I can speak to anyone of this.

He had arrived at the Queen's chamber. Hurriedly, he pressed the large silver button next to the door. After what felt like an eternity, he was answered by Eirta�, smiling, with eyes aglow. When she saw the panicked expression on the Jedi's face, however, her face slackened into concern. "Obi-Wan, what is it?" she asked, not even budging to allow him entrance.

"She is in great danger," he replied, trying to use his words as efficiently as possible. "I told Anakin of our relationship. He was enraged and left. I think he may be searching for the Queen. Is she here?"

"No," came the reply. "She left just moments ago with Chief Panaka. He said Supreme Chancellor Palpatine needed to speak with her. Have you located Anakin or his feelings by the Force?"

"I can't sense him at all. He's shut me off completely. The situation could be no worse." Pausing, Obi-Wan looked both ways down the corridor. "I must protect her. Is she going to the Chancellor's guest chamber?"

Obi-Wan took off down the hallway at a swift run. The Chancellor's chamber was on the far side of the palace. If he hurried, he could make it.

The Queen was still annoyed when she arrived at the Chancellor's chamber. As if she weren't already conflicted enough with this wedding business... Listen to me! she thought. I sound as though I'm dealing with some petty merchant disagreement in the city. I need to take this much more seriously. I am, whether I like it or not, getting married in just a few hours.

She sighed as she entered the Chancellor's conference room, perhaps a little too loudly, as she drew a curious look from an otherwise pensive, concerned Palpatine. She realized that she'd never seen the senator wearing quite that expression ever before. He appeared worried, maybe even a little afraid, but as if he were... She couldn't quite place it... concerned for her well-being? His eyes seemed much more tender than she remembered, as if the politician had given way to the man. For a moment she entertained the thought that he, too, held feelings for her, then attempted to dismiss it.

She organized her thoughts before addressing him in her most official, removed voice. "Chief Panaka has informed me that you wished to discuss something with me."

"Yes," the Chancellor sighed. Thinking for a moment, he continued. "It is not because of any galactic affair that I have asked you here. I have felt something I feel you must know."

Gods! Perhaps her instinct was not entirely false. Still, her expression was unwavering.

"I... how shall I put it... fear for your safety. I have felt something with a strength I have not experienced in years. A disturbance - a ripple, a wave, call it what you may - in the Force."

"Ah, yes, to a certain extent, yes. When I was young, five perhaps, Master Yoda and I crossed paths. I had gone to Coruscant with my father to see the sights, the Temple, the Senate. It was on that trip that I resolved to become the Naboo senator. We were touring the Temple when we were approached by Master Yoda. He said he felt that I was extremely strong with the Force and offered to take me as his padawan. I was rather excited, but my father refused, saying that he would not have any son of his worshipping such a religion. Although I was never trained, I have never lost a sort of... innate, primal connection with the Force. I can often sense when misfortune awaits a colleague, and I sense that now for you, Your Majesty."

Amidala was thrown aback, speechless. Surprise and mild shock were painted across her face as she scrambled for the proper thing to say. "I'm... I never knew..."

"Yes, well," he smiled, "I have tried to keep my sensitivity a relative secret. I don't want it to become confused with my political aspirations."

Amidala had finally regained her coherence and asked gravely, "Can you tell me any more of this disturbance? Where it originates, its cause..."

"None of this is certain, of course, but I feel..." Palpatine closed his eyes, entranced. "It is from... the boy. Anakin Skywalker. Your future husband. It is - cold, dark. The Dark Side."

Suddenly she realized that it was a joke. Certainly the Chancellor must be lying, some joke from Obi-Wan to lighten their spirits...

Her dark, cavernous eyes grew wide, afraid. Anakin was again enraged, but towards her.

Amidala began to shake as she felt the truth. Anakin knew. He knew of her love for Obi-Wan, of their former devotion. She only hoped he had learned it from Obi-Wan, who, she knew, would have spoken the truth.

As she rose quickly from her seat to send guards to find her love, the door opened. There he stood, his eyes drowning in the same fear as hers.

Obi-Wan rushed to Amidala, grabbed her, held her. Both began to cry uncontrollably, and Obi-Wan realized that she knew. He was unsure how she could have learned already of Anakin's fury, but she knew. Slowly their embrace ended.

"You know," Obi-Wan whispered, taking the fear in Amidala's eyes as his affirmation. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have told him. I just wanted him to know the truth before he was married. I never imagined he would become so angry. I didn't open myself to the Force. I didn't think of the future. But I should have known. He's so angry naturally, so frustrated. I should have known he would be furious. It was purely selfish; I'm purely selfish. And now we're both in danger."

Amidala took his hand. "No. It needed to happen. He would have known immediately." As tears came to her eyes, Obi-Wan knew her next thought. "I doubt he'll ever marry me. We must go. If we hurry, we'll be safe. We need blasters."

As she ran to get the room's hidden weapons, Obi-Wan fell into sobs. She was willing to harm her intended, kill him, even. He was bewildered. What have I done?

She turned to the Chancellor. "Please, sir, page Ric Oli�. Have him meet us on the Marie Celeste. Inform Chief Panaka that we have been forced into exile. Tell him we have taken no guards to avoid attention. Please hurry." Obi-Wan's sobs interrupted her; he felt her love radiating toward him. She was amazing. She was incomparable. She loved him.

"Don't let Anakin learn where we've gone," she continued. "He'll follow us; he'll want revenge. We may never see you again. Good fortune in the Senate. Goodbye."

Amidala returned to Obi-Wan's side, caressing his right hand before pressing a blaster into it. She was extraordinary. "Come on," she said with determination. She grasped his other hand and pulled him into the empty corridor beyond the opening chamber doors.

As they ran toward the docking bay, his strength returned. The Force was with them. He knew. They would be fine. He had made the right decision, and they would survive. Still, something troubled him. He had little time to ponder, however, as the Queen led him down ever-narrowing hallways, trying to avoid Anakin.

Suddenly, she stopped. Turning to Obi-Wan, she asked, "Is he here?" As he searched the Force, he was surprised to find that he knew the boy's location: he was in his own chamber. Strange.

"We're safe," Obi-Wan whispered. The door in front of them opened, flooding the tiny hall with blinding white light. The queen's ship stood in the bay, ready, gleaming. They ran across the floor and onto the ship, raising the ramp behind them. At the first intercom, Amidala asked her pilot to take off, and presently the ship began to move. Exhausted, the pair collapsed onto a seat in the living chamber and watched Naboo's withdrawal through a tiny window.

Obi-Wan had fallen asleep, but Amidala's mind wouldn't stop racing. What would her people think? Their cherished ruler, who had led them through their most dangerous time since the Great Trouble, who had forged friendship with the Gungans, who had sat on the throne for ten years without the slightest controversy, suddenly disappeared, suddenly eloped, with a Jedi an hour before her wedding. She knew in her heart that her actions would be misinterpreted; she would have to step down.

And what now of her relationship with Obi-Wan? With Anakin gone and her reign all but over, there was nothing to prevent them from fulfilling their emotions. She loved him now more than ever, she would marry him in an instant, but her heart restrained. She had been more deeply wounded by Anakin's fury than she realized, and now she hesitated to resume in full her love for Obi-Wan. It's practical, she reasoned, some kind of emotional safeguard to avoid more devastation.

As tears began to pool in her eyes, Amidala stood up and walked to her wardrobe room, a huge closet overflowing with gowns of every shade for every occasion. She searched racks laden with ornate decorations for something comfortable, something plain. She browsed past her black and burgundy traveling gowns, her fabled Senate address gown, her Mos Espa slave outfit. Finally, after what seemed like thousands of heavy gilted gowns, she came upon a simple white dress, loosely fitted, with long loose sleeves and an attached hood. She changed out of her wedding gown, which surprisingly had not been torn in their flight, and slipped easily into this unfamiliar, comfortable dress, fastening the silver-buckled belt around her waist.

She gathered her strength as she moved to the communications terminal in her conference room. She was about to step down; she had no choice. Activating the unit, she sent a contact to Panaka; to her surprise, he answered immediately.

"Queen Amidala," he said with relief. "We were beginning to fear for your safety. You are fine?"

"Yes. Obi-Wan and I are on the Marie Celeste. We have set no destination yet, but if you wish I will contact you when we decide." Her own composure almost made her sick.

"Please, Your Majesty, do. Anakin has barricaded himself into his chamber, and he threatens to kill himself if anyone tries to enter. Master Yoda is attempting to speak with him now, but he insists that he wants to die."

"Chief Panaka, I have contacted you to inform you of my decision to step down from the Naboo throne. Given the present circumstances, I do not see how I can continue effectively as queen of Naboo. I hereby call for an election to determine the new ruler. My handmaidens are released from service; please incinerate my possessions. Please, also, make an official announcement to the people. It had to happen."

"As you wish." An expression of sheer and naked pain came over Panaka's face. "It has been an honor serving you."

Tears once again welled in Amidala's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "You are a fine head of security. Goodbye, Chief Panaka."

Amidala deactivated the communicator as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Already she missed her handmaidens, their smiles, their pleasant demeanor. She missed the visits from Jar Jar. She missed the sun pouring through the throne room window and warming her pale face. And she missed Anakin, not the angry child now threatening suicide, but the kind, loving young man she had agreed to marry. Quickly she banished this fond image; she needed as clean a break as was now possible.

As the tears cleared from her eyes, she looked up to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorway. "You're troubled," he said and walked to her, enveloping her with his arms. This was where she belonged, so loving, so safe. Nothing could happen to her here.

"Forget him," he whispered into her dark hair. "We can go to Coruscant, ask the Council for asylum, live in the temple until we have a path. Forget him."

Sobs racked her body. It was so easy for him to say; he had no idea. She looked up into his beautiful face. "I can't," she whispered.

That None Would Die