Chapter Nineteen – When You Say Nothing at All

All the beds in Retisan Ranch's modest infirmary were full. Also occupied was the ranch's medic, which was probably the only reason Yvenne was getting away with hobbling around so much. He simply didn't have the leisure to stop her. At present, she was leaning against a stall wall where Leda, returned safe and sound from the adventure at the bazaar, was tearing voraciously into a well-deserved treat. It was kind of gross, Yvenne reflected, to be standing here watching, but with all the hullabaloo back at the house, the stables were by far the calmest place on the ranch.

Time had become a kind of bubble. Her cousin was dead, over half the royal family was suddenly in residence, not to mention the media circus that that had incited. There were so many people here that everyone seemed to have forgotten Yvenne, even her family. Everything was beyond surreal. What Yvenne couldn't fathom, though, was what would happen when the bubble popped. When the prince and everything he'd brought into her life took their leave, what would be left for her? She reached out and ran her hand along Leda's course fur somewhat sadly. Somehow, she didn't think she could just pick up. Too much had happened.

"I thought I might find you here."

Yvenne's fingers paused in their stroking. She waited a couple of minutes before she turned around, a little nervous about talking to Richard. She was trying to decide if she was happy or scared he'd found her here.

"Are you hiding?" he added as he joined her. He crossed his arms on the wall beside her and she resumed petting Leda as an excuse not to have to look at him. Yes, she had been hiding. From him, to be honest. She hadn't spoken to him alone since… well, it felt like forever. Not since she'd shunted aside his attentions that second time.

Turning her head slightly, she gave a slight, subdued smile. "Your Highness," she said quietly.

"You know you really should get off that ankle," he said.

"I'm okay. It feels a lot better."

They lapsed into silence. When she couldn't stand it any longer, Yvenne risked a glance over at him. He was staring somewhere in the vicinity of Leda's shoulders, but clearly his thoughts were somewhere else. As if taking Yvenne's glance as a cue, he took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry about how I treated you, Yvenne. Well, specifically how I reacted," he stammered on. "Thinking on what you said… you were right, I should have realized how it would seem from your perspective."

Though her heart was pounding several kilometers a minute, Yvenne managed an amused expression. "How many times did you practice that in the mirror this morning?" she asked.

His lips twitched, but just barely. "Quite a few, but not as much as I practiced what I'm going to say next."

Curious, she waited while he twisted his fingers nervously together. He was still having trouble looking at her. "You're going to think I'm crazy. And I am, I guess, but I'm dead serious too. I really, really, care about you, Yvenne. More than I thought was possible in so short a time. And you can call me selfish. It would be true, I mean, we've already established that, but I need you."

Uncertain what else to reply, all Yvenne could think to do was echo dumbly back. "You need me?" Her voice betrayed her bewilderment. It did nothing to reveal the rumbling thrill beneath the surface, ready to explode if whatever he said next was worthy of a charming storybook prince.

He nodded emphatically. "To keep me grounded. To keep being my friend. Yvenne, sometimes I look at you, and—" here he stopped and actually did look at her, his expression a complicated mix of longing and hope, "—I see this other person, this version of me who's just a boy playing king. I've never met a lot of people outside my family who look at me trying to find a person behind all the trappings. And that's why I need you, why—" he swallowed, then plunged on, "—why I want you."

Yvenne hadn't thought it possible her heart rate could have actually increased, but it had. Her stomach also decided to join in the fun. "I don't understand," she said slowly. "Are you—?" She shook her head as if trying to shake her thoughts into order. Her next words were going to sound a bit silly, but she couldn't think of any other way to say it, not to a prince. "Are you trying to ask if you can court me?" She hoped that wasn't an incorrect guess, otherwise she was going to be pretty embarrassed in about two seconds.

He shook his head. "No, no. No, Yvenne, I—" He reached over, took her fingers tentatively with his own until they were twisted together. "It's more than that." He caught her eyes with his own. "I'm trying to tell you that I love you, Yvenne. I'm asking you to marry me."

Claria woke with the news of her little brother's engagement as the first thought in her head. Her head had been buzzing with it when she went to sleep, sharing a bed with Sabé, of all things, so it really wasn't all that surprising. That didn't make the news any less astonishing.

Then she remembered that he wanted to be married before the coronation, which gave them about eight weeks to plan a royal wedding and she turned over and groaned into her pillow. Probably that's why Sabé was already out of bed. Grumbling under her breath, Claria kicked off the covers and began looking around for something to wear. She needed to track down her sister and they were going to need to get back to Theed. Preferably today.

Apart from the servants, the only people she found awake were the Jedi, who were sharing a meal together in the dining room. She wasn't surprised. Everyone had been up pretty late celebrating the night before.

"Good morning, Masters," she said, giving a small, respectful curtsey. The four Jedi nodded their heads, almost in unison.

"Good morning, Princess Elsinoré," said Obi-Wan Kenobi, putting down his napkin and smiling genially. "I trust you slept well?"

"As well as can be expected, Master Kenobi, thank you. But I fear my brother's announcement has put us all on something of a tight schedule. My sister and I will be returning to Theed as soon as possible. You're all welcome to join us, or to come later with Prince Richard, but I hope you'll honor us by paying a visit to Theed before you return home."

Obi-Wan Kenobi exchanged glances with his comrade, Master Caine. "We'll discuss it. I'm sure the Council will be more than willing to allow us a few days' respite."

"It would be our pleasure. That's twice now that Naboo owes you a great debt, Master Kenobi. And you too, Master Skywalker," Claria said, smiling fondly at the handsome young Padawan, who gave an abashed smile, reminding her of the little boy she'd briefly met those many years ago.

"Don't be so modest, Princess," Anakin said. "You did your part. Without your radio transmission we may never have reached Mirak Retisan in time to prevent further destruction."

"We destroyed half an underground cavern, Anakin. I'd hardly call that less destruction," said Master Kenobi, but the twinkle in his eye as he glanced over at his Padawan reflected his pride in his apprentice. He turned back to Claria. "Nevertheless, I agree with Anakin. Your assistance was helpful and quite timely, I might add."

"Will you join us for breakfast, Princess?" asked the younger Padawan, Helaine, with a polite and hopeful expression.

Claria smiled. "Thank you, but I fear I cannot." Truthfully, she was far too agitated to eat. "I was actually in search of Princess Sabé, have you seen her?"

"She's in the infirmary, if I'm not mistaken," said Master Kenobi, reaching out to refill his glass of juice. "Visiting your young handmaiden friend."

"Thank you, Master. Good day to all of you."

Claria headed off in the direction of the infirmary, which required a brief walk out of doors. On the way she nodded gracious returns to every hand and security officer who stopped to bow their respects, but fortunately, they kept a respectful distance. She was relieved. There really wasn't time for much small talk today.

The medic was nowhere to be found, but his aide brightened at the sight of Claria. "The Princess Vána is already with your friend, m'lady," he said. "Go right on in."

"Thank you."

The sight of Saché sitting upright and fully dressed brought a huge smile to Claria's face. She was sitting on the bed with her legs over the sides and Sabé was in the chair beside her. Their heads were bent together, speaking in low voices and giggling about something. Saché looked positively radiant. She glanced up and saw Claria standing in the doorway and her smile widened even more. "Claria!"

"Good morning," Claria said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

Sabé made a violent roll of her eyes. "She's more than fine. Claria, I swear, if you tell me you got engaged yesterday I'm going into a convent on Bimmissari and I'm not coming out for a year."

Only then did Claria notice the necklace of red jewels and polished stones resting gracefully on Saché's collarbone. "You got engaged?!" she cried.

Saché blushed bright red and nodded but she didn't stop smiling.

"Oh, wow. Wow! Congratulations!"

"Thank you."

"Where is Jon?" Claria asked, looking around and realizing for the first time it was rather odd for him to not be hovering.

"He started back to Theed this morning, and then he's going to Coruscant to get some business wrapped up before Richard's wedding. He wants to make it back in time, and if he gets things cleaned up there and his Rinalio agreement signed then we'll have months to plan the wedding together when he gets back." Saché gave a happy sigh and fell backwards onto the bed, still grinning.

"Hmmph. Months to plan the wedding," Sabé repeated, looking at Claria was a knowing expression. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"No kidding. Where did Jon get a necklace so fast, Sach?" Claria asked, finally stepping in closer and sitting on the other bed. Laicha Kova had been stabilized the previous day and transferred to a research hospital in Theed.

"In Rialdas. Yesterday, while I was sleeping, apparently."

"And when did he propose? I mean, besides yesterday, obviously."

"Last night before he left. It was actually pretty cruel of him. He made me so happy I couldn't sleep, and I wanted to tell you all but I couldn't go around waking everybody up even if I'd been allowed to leave this hateful room, which of course I wasn't. But the medic's letting me go back to Theed with the two of you today. Thank goodness."

"Jon always was pretty dense," said Sabé, shaking her head. "What a thing to do to a girl. Granted, I'm still trying to get over the shock of the idea of you two at all. I thought I was so smart. Dormé tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen."

"Dormé what?"

"At the gala, on Coruscant, right before Ben— I mean, Master Kenobi— and I and the others left for Jenispra. You and Jon were dancing and Dormé told me she suspected he liked you. I told her she was crazy."

"She's a shrewd one, that Dormé."

"Did you call her yet?" Claria asked, without thinking. Still lying prone on the bed, Saché looked over, then looked at her medical prison, then back at Claria appraisingly. "Okay, stupid question," Claria said, holding up her hands and laughing. Her eyes fell once more on Saché's forget-me-not and she began asking all the appropriate questions about what Jon had said, how he had presented it, whether or not there had been kissing, and all the other important things.

After Saché had her fill of gushing, Claria realized something and turned to Sabé with a frown. "I'd forgotten. Mother's necklace, for Richard, do we—?" After their mother's death, Claria and Sabé had recovered the necklace that their father had given their mother, a gift ultimately intended for Richard.

Sabé nodded. "I thought of that too. I still have it. I'll give it to him as soon as we all get back to Naboo. I don't think he knows about it still, so before he goes out and gets one of his own…" she trailed off.

"Good point."

There was movement in the doorway, and all three girls turned at the sound.

"Yvenne!" said Saché happily, and hopped off the bed and across the room to wrap the redhead in a hearty embrace. "It's so good to see you. Congratulations."

Looking extremely shy, Yvenne glanced between the three women. "Thank you. I heard you're going to be released today. That's so good to hear."

"How did it go with your uncle?" Sabé asked.

Yvenne nodded. "Much as I expected. I can tell he's still surprised and not terribly pleased about the engagement, but we managed to work out the affairs of the ranch with civility. Torak's going to be taking over for me, but I'll be staying here for two more weeks to kind of help smooth the transition. They're already treating me different—my hands, I mean. It's… really weird. I wish they wouldn't."

Claria looked over at Sabé and the two sisters shared a mutual knowing look. Sabé smiled kindly. "Yvenne, I wonder if you would do me the honor of showing me how to ride one of those amazing tusk cats in your stables," she said. "Preferably, the sweetest, oldest, slowest, and most docile."

Yvenne looked puzzled. "Certainly, Highness, but I understood you were leaving for Theed today. Forgive me, but aren't there a great many things you said you needed to attend to?"

Sabé nodded. "Yes, and talking to you is one of them."

The sweetest, oldest, slowest, and most docile tusk cat in the stable was a grizzled old male named Sedo, a fact at which Princess Sabé expressed her surprise. "I would have thought the females would be gentler."

Yvenne laughed. "Ask your brother some time about his first week here, Highness," she said. "The females are far more aggressive in this species. The males tend to be a bit lazy, truth be told."

After helping the princess to get saddled and set, the two women headed out into the plains. The sun was warm but the recent rains had cooled the atmosphere, and the brilliant green that pocketed the landscape this time of year had begun bursting forth out of every crack and crevice. Yvenne would miss the rainy season. It only came for a brief time.

It took Princess Sabé a little while to focus on anything but how to stay on the tusk cat. At some point, she must have realized that Sedo was going to follow Leda wherever Yvenne directed her anyway, so she gave up trying to lead him. Only then did she begin to speak what was on her mind.

"You're going to have to get used to calling me Sabé," Sabé said. "I understand it probably feels strange, but you're entering into a world that's stranger by far. If you continue to look at us as your betters instead of your friends you're going to feel very isolated."

Yvenne involuntarily squeezed a little tighter to Leda's back with her knees, suddenly nervous. Exactly what was this interview about? Admittedly, it had seemed a little strange to her that her future sister-in-law would deliberately solicit her company without an ulterior motive, but she'd been at a loss to suppose what that might be.

Sabé must have noticed Yvenne's discomfort. She gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. That was a horrid beginning. Let me try again." They rode on in silence for a few moments, Sabé looking thoughtful. Then she spoke up. "First thing, I don't ever want you to feel like you're unwelcome in our family. I'll admit," she said nodding and making a wry expression, "Richard's haste in proposing wasn't something I was thrilled about at first, but I like you very much, in what little I've gotten to know of you.

"It's because of that that I wanted to have this conversation. Yvenne, there are a whole lot of people in court who aren't going to be happy about this. But between the two of you, Richard is still the king. You're the one who will bear the brunt of the disapproval. I wonder have you considered that at all?"

She had. "Yes, your Highness—"

"Sabé."

Yvenne hesitated a moment before conceding. "Yes, Sabé," she said. "I don't know what the exact repercussions will be, but I've spent my whole life being looked down on for my birth. It's nothing I can't handle."

Sabé nodded her approval. "Good. As far as the exact repercussions go, well, you can already imagine, most people who have issue with you will have no better reason than they feel themselves superior to others. I used to be like that," she added quietly in an afterthought. "But I was a child. Not everyone in court has such a fine excuse.

"Now, there will be a more sagacious bunch quick to point out that due to your background, you don't have the expertise to be an effective queen from a political standpoint."

"They would be right," Yvenne pointed out matter-of-factly.

Sabé squinted over her and shrugged with a smile. "Maybe not so much as they think. You've already been a leader of people, after all, and a competent one from what I've seen. I don't think it will be very hard for you to adapt to the intricacies of Naboo politics. We can help you there, and we will. Padmé especially, when she comes home."

At the mention of Richard's other sister, Yvenne's stomach gave a flip-flop as it had every time she'd realized that the legendary Queen Amidala, liberator of the Naboo, was about to become her sister. It was bad enough that two iconic Jedi heroes from that battle had eaten breakfast in her house this morning.

"There's one more thing I have to ask you," Sabé said, interrupting Yvenne's thoughts. She looked uncomfortable. "And please forgive me for my boldness, I really have no right, but—"

"I may have a habit of being too formal, Sabé, but I'm not afraid of you," Yvenne said, meeting the older girl's eyes with a slight challenge.

Sabé gave a wide grin. "Okay then. Richard is my little brother. He's a good man, and I know he'll be a good husband. But you don't know him as well as I do yet. Why did you accept his proposal? If you're a woman of as much sense as you appear to be, you must have had some inhibitions."

Yvenne had reflected on this matter so long herself that her answer was not hard to retrieve. "I have a strong affection for him, Your Highness," she said soberly. "I'd even venture to say I love him, or I feel the beginnings of what will be love. But more than that—" she hesitated, trying to think of how best to put into words her next thought. "He didn't try to rescue me," she finished.

"I'm sorry?"

"Richard. He saw my situation, my place in this family, the way they've looked down on me, yet he didn't propose to me because he wanted to save me from all that. He proposed because he wants me." At those words, she couldn't help but blush, but she continued on. "That's as much as any woman can ask for. Had it been otherwise, I probably would have said no."

Sabé considered these words and finally gave a slow nod. She seemed to have greatly relaxed. "We're going to be good friends, Yvenne," she said. She twisted around to face behind them. "But now I really do need to start getting back." She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe he did this to us. Do you have any idea what it takes to plan a function of this kind in six weeks? In the winter no less!"

"I can imagine, your— Sabé."

"Well, in either case I can't wait to introduce you to Theed when you come. Just be sure to bring warm clothes. Wait, what am I saying? You're rich like us now. We'll buy you a whole new wardrobe."

At the look of shock on Yvenne's face, Sabé burst out laughing.

Two days back in Theed, Ceidron was back at work. He'd expected to catch some grief from his ecology professor for missing the midterm exam, but to his surprise his adventure helping the Naberrie siblings to make an intergalactically renowned drug bust had vaulted him into celebrity status overnight. His professor's eagerness to help Ceidron in making up the missed time was actually kind of unnerving. Ceidron felt, not like a person, but like an icon. It did not escape him that his association with Claria had ultimately made him into the very thing he'd despised about her and her family when he'd first come here.

Sourly, he yanked open the door to the freezer. He'd been spending most of his time in the back of the café, and was learning quite a lot about cooking from the star-struck new young chef who had a propensity to giggle at him every time he did so much as chop an onion.

He still disagreed with Naboo's government on principle. He was pretty sure that was never going to change. It didn't matter how long the string of successive benign and gracious monarchs lasted, at some point it was going to fail them. That was a statistical fact. All the more reason he felt like such a hypocrite.

He missed Claria. For the entirety of the incident in Rial they'd barely spoken more than two perfunctory words to each other and now he was left with a despairing feeling that any chance to repair the damage was slipping away like water through a particularly porous sieve. It didn't matter if she was a princess. That had stopped being important after Lornaira. He missed her wit and her passion, her kindness, her smile, her compassion, the feeling of her small hand on his shoulder.

So why don't you do something about it?

The truth was, he was terrified. He didn't want to know the full scope of her feelings about what he'd tried to initiate between them. To know would probably only make him feel more mortified than he already did. Self-loathing was a hard thing to live with. It didn't help that Jon Bakuro had departed Rial with the insufferable happiness of having won the love of his life.

"Hey, Cee?"

Having just finished lifting a crate of frozen fish onto a higher shelf, Ciedron turned. The manager was standing in the door of the freezer with an awkward smile on her face. "There's someone at the back door for you," she said.

"Ally, you promised no one—"

"I think," she said firmly, cutting off his protest, "you'll want to take this one."

Grumbling, he jumped down from the step stool and followed her out the door.

Claria was pacing within the small square of duracrete that served as the receiving area for supplies, wringing her hands. Her personal guard and a handmaiden Ceidron didn't recognize were flanking the back door. When she saw Ceidron, she abruptly stopped fidgeting, though she still seemed nervous. "Hi," she said simply.

"Hi," he replied. Slowly, he walked toward her.

"Um," she said, "is there somewhere we could go to talk? In private?" she added quietly, looking around at the kitchen staff, all of whom were staring at Claria as paralyzed as wax figures. All except the giggly new chef, who wore a rather pronounced scowl.

"Feel free to use my office, your Highness," said Ally, stepping forward helpfully. "Take all the time you need." She gestured to a door to a small room just off the side that boasted a desk, two crammed chairs, and a whole lot of shelves.

"Thank you," said Claria with a grateful nod. She turned and headed toward it, her handmaiden following at a discreet but authoritative distance. Ally gave Ceidron a goofy grin as soon the princess couldn't see, and Ceidron rolled his eyes.

Once inside the office, Ceidron closed the door. Claria was wringing her hands again. "I'm afraid I kind of shot myself in the foot when I invited you to Rial. The whole city knows you work here now and that I used to patronize this place. Which means I can't safely come here anymore. Not as an anonymous guest at least, and let's face it, if I came as Princess Elsinoré it wouldn't be the same." She looked so sad. Then she looked up and met his eye. "I'm sorry for what I brought down on you."

"Oh, hey, you know," he said, shrugging, "the tips are great." She gave an awkward laugh, and he added, "Besides, Ally deserves it, and so do all her people. Once the novelty wears off, I think she'll have the loyal customer base she always wanted."

Claria nodded. "That would be wonderful."

"So what brings you by?" he asked. The nonchalance in his voice was so inadequate for everything he was feeling.

"Oh, um, a couple things. I, um—" She blushed. "You know my brother is getting married shortly. I wanted to invite you to the wedding as my guest. And Metti too, of course. I couldn't leave him out."

Ceidron licked his lips, his brain momentarily stalled as to the most eloquent way to say yes. Claria must have taken his pause as a hesitance, for she then looked a little crestfallen. "I don't want you to read anything into it, if you don't want to. Think of it as a formal thank you for your assistance in Rial. I think between the two of them, John and Richard might have hurt themselves if it hadn't been for you." At this, she dared to glance at him and offer up a small smile.

He grinned back. "You're probably right."

Claria sobered again. "It's not just that, though." Her eyes lowered again and her voice grew very small. "I wanted to apologize, Ceidron, for my behavior when—" she was staring intently at the back of her hand resting on the desk and she seemed to need to collect herself for plunging on "—when we were in my quarters."

The floodgates were open. "Claria," he said, stepping forward. "I am so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. It was the most disrespectful thing I could have possibly… I just want you to know that I would never, never—"

"Ceidron," she said softly, and looked up. She shook her head. "Don't apologize. It was my fault. Believe me, you didn't do anything you weren't encouraged to do. I've been so ashamed of myself, not just for allowing things to go as far as they did, but for the small part of me that wishes I hadn't stopped you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he added, and couldn't help but let a small grin of pride escape.

She managed to glare and blush at the same time. "Shut up." Then she gave a sigh. "So that's that. I just came here hoping that I haven't damaged our friendship irreparably."

"I don't think that could ever happen," Ceidron said.

For the first time since her arrival, Claria finally seemed to relax.

"But I don't want just friends," Ceidron added. Claria started, staring at him with eyes wide, and mouthed silently for a moment. "Listen," he said, leaning forward and looking at her without compunction, "I like you. Yes, shocking, I know." She narrowed her eyes at him in mock suspicion and he laughed. "Claria—" he said. It was his turn to be awkward. "What almost happened between us… It was wrong of me to be so presumptuous and I promise I won't bring it up anymore after this, but I just wanted to let you know, I don't go down that road lightly. I never have. And I would never take advantage of your convictions. In fact, in light of everything… I have to say I'm really impressed with your strength.

"What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm really, really serious when I say I like you. And I don't know if it's okay for an offworld sociology major to pursue a Princess of Naboo, but… there it is."

"So… you're asking me out?" she asked coyly.

"Hey, you're the one who came here to invite me to a wedding," he pointed out.

She laughed. "True."

"Still, I suppose given how traditional you people seem to be, I'd better do this right." He stepped forward and took her hand, holding it to his chest in a grandiose manner. She laughed again. "Claria Elsinoré Naberrie," he said, "will you go out with me? What do you say? We'll play by the rules, take it slow, see where things go? I don't know about you, but I'd sure like to find out." He grinned.

Claria rolled her eyes. "That was terrible, Ceidron. Did you take that out of a campy song book or something?" Despite her words, her smile was so huge it looked like it would break her face in half.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yes," she said with a laugh. "Yes, yes, yes!" With that she flung her arms around his neck, and he thought nobody else in the galaxy had ever known what it was to be happy.

At Retisan Ranch, all was quiet. The departure of the royal family, their retinues, the security forces, and the ranch's erstwhile manager had left a gaping void of cold silence. It was echoed in the hush between father and daughter as Réka Retisan sat seething on the other side of Lord Retisan's desk. He looked at her from across the way and she glared back with hard eyes.

"What happened, Réka?" he said at last. "You assured me the prince was falling in line with our plans."

"He was, father," she snarled back. "I had him in my hand. Had it not been for that whore's daughter—" She couldn't finish her thought, but instead snapped her mouth closed and resumed seething.

Lord Retisan frowned and stood. "You'd best get over your distaste, daughter. I'm sending you to Theed for the wedding along with Arath."

Réka's eyes widened in shocked horror. "No! I refuse to go. You can't make me."

"I can and I will!" her father thundered. He exhaled sharply, causing his nostrils to flare. "I know the outcome of all of this is less than ideal, but the Klions are nothing if not patient. We may be able to turn this to our advantage."

"How?" Réka added, curious despite herself.

Retisan had turned and was now staring out the window across the rain-swept Rial plains. "Like it or not, we now have a close family connection with the royal family. So one might say our plan was fulfilled from a different perspective."

Réka snorted and slumped in her chair in a most unladylike fashion. "From your perspective maybe," she said. "I was going to be queen. Anyway, if you think our family's connection with Yvenne—" she said her cousin's name through clenched teeth, "— is going to win us extra favor, you're seriously underestimating your niece. She harbors no love for us."

"For us, no. For Arath, yes."

Réka's eyebrows raised. "Arath is not a Klion. He doesn't even know about us."

"Which means your brother's spineless outlook has become an unexpected boon. He won't object to unwittingly aiding a cause he knows nothing about."

Retisan turned from the window to regard his daughter. "Perhaps Mirak's death was for the best," he added. "He too was weak, but his knowledge of our movement was becoming more dangerous the deeper he sank into his reckless lifestyle. No. I too regret Prince Richard's choice but we will deal wisely with this change in circumstance.

"You will go to Theed. You will be gracious, charming, and repentant. Arath will help you to become truly accepted within the royal family. Then we shall see what hand fate deals us next.

"Make no mistake, Réka. We may yet see the downfall of the Naberrie dominion within our lifetimes."

The day before his departure from Naboo, there was a farewell to be made which Obi-Wan knew he couldn't put off any longer. He and Anakin had been in Theed Palace for a week, and he'd only seen Sabé at formal functions. Even then they hadn't spoken. He sometimes wondered if it was him avoiding her or the other way around.

The mission, an uncontested success, was over. The Council had already conveyed their pleasure and praise from Coruscant, and he couldn't feel more satisfied with what had been accomplished, but a small part of him, deep down inside, felt an aching loss that wasn't hard to pinpoint.

He didn't search for her, but followed the bright impression she made on the Force, which seemed to be now permanently seared into his subconscious. He found her in the lower levels of the palace.

A great cavern had been hollowed out of the cliff upon which Theed Palace rested. The cavern was long and wide – two or three fighters could have easily flown abreast down its length. The ground had been leveled and covered in large, polished sandstone tiles in warm shades of earth. Lights imbedded into the rocks of the ceiling coaxed all the color in the stone walls to into view. A grand staircase from the upper levels descended at one end of this magnificent corridor. It was down these stairs that Obi-Wan came and found Sabé, standing alone in the vast expanse and staring at the other end, where the cavern opened on a view of Lornaira Valley below. She fingered something absentmindedly in one hand.

"Hello, Ben," Sabé said with a quiet smile after he stopped beside her. "My great-grandfather had this place built. It's something, isn't it?"

"It is," he agreed, looking around. "I confess I had no idea it was down here."

"Yes, well, it's really only handy for large parties. We're having the wedding here."

"Won't it be cold?" he asked. Winter was in full force in Theed. Snow had already taken up permanent residence in the streets and he could feel the icy fingers of the wind teasing his face even at this distance from the mouth of the cave. Sabé wore a very heavy gown of thick, dark blue material in a somber cut and gloves on her hands. Her head was unadorned and her face was slightly flushed with the cold. She cut something of a lonely figure.

"Not after we get three-thousand guests crammed in here, no," she remarked. "In addition, the Gungans are providing us with one of their membrane devices to cover the mouth of the cave. It should be a beautiful party."

"I'm sure it will be a sight to see," he admitted.

She turned her face to him hopefully. "You're sure you won't stay?" she asked. "It's only a few more weeks. Padmé would be so disappointed to miss you."

Obi-Wan was never going to own it to Sabé, but avoiding her twin sister was precisely the reason he was in a hurry to get away from Naboo. Specifically to get Anakin away from Naboo. He shook his head. "We've delayed too long already. There is another mission the Council wants us for. You expect her within the week, right?" he asked.

She nodded distractedly. "Day after tomorrow. It was the soonest she could make it back without severely damaging some of the relationships with our offworld allies." She glanced back down toward the other end of the cavern. "Will you walk with me, Master Obi-Wan?" she asked.

Curious as to her formal manner, Obi-Wan fell into step beside her. They walked in silence for some time. Finally, he glanced down at her hands, which were still occupied with an item he couldn't quite identify, a chain or tie of some kind. "What is that you have there, Senator?" he asked.

She looked down at it, thoughtful. "It's a forget-me-not. A token of commitment between a young couple on Naboo. Most typically it's an engagement gift. This one was my mother's. It's her gift to Richard."

"You still miss her."

She nodded. "And my father. I've been thinking about them a lot these past few days. I wish they could be here to share in Richard's happiness. I wish I could ask them for counsel."

"About?"

"Many things," she said quietly. After another moment she said, "It's hard sometimes. After all these years, we still have no idea of who killed my mother, or why. It's as if I'll never really be at peace about it until I know."

Obi-Wan considered her as they walked further in silence. Her spirit was agitated, contrasting sharply with her outward control. He could sense her thoughts bouncing around, chasing each other like crazed banthas.

"So will it be another eight years before we see you again?" she finally asked softly.

They were nearly at the end of the cavern now. Obi-Wan had a good view of the first stars shining coldly above the eastern sky beyond. "I hope not," he admitted. "Sabé, what's wrong?" he asked quietly.

She stopped, and with obvious difficulty turned to face him. "Ben," she whispered, "I—" Her voice seemed to stick in her throat and she stared at him, her large brown eyes so full of pain his heart wrenched inside him.

He wondered how many Jedi in the past had stood where he was standing now, straddling so great a divide. On one side was the Jedi Order, the thing to which he'd devoted his entire life, a thing of greatness, something for which he'd never imagined to find an equal, let alone anything he wanted more. On the other side stood Sabé.

At that moment he would have given up everything, his entire life's work, for the sake of her love. But it couldn't be. The events at Lake Erana had reminded him with chilling impact the extent of Anakin's power. He knew his Padawan too well, and he knew that interrupting his training now could have very far-reaching, very disastrous consequences. The choice was already made, and Obi-Wan Kenobi had no say in the matter.

All this he longed to tell her, but no words seemed sufficient. Instead he stepped closer, looking down at her and trying to convey in one look everything he read in hers.

"I have so many things I want to say to you," Sabé said, searching his face. Her voice was so soft it barely carried. "But I feel like if I spoke the words it would be like squandering a treasure. Like if I keep them inside me, they're only mine and nobody could ever take them away."

"Then don't say them, Sabé," he said gently. He reached out with one hand and traced the side of her face. His thumb gently brushed her ear and she closed her eyes. "Don't say anything at all," he added.

Her eyes were still closed as he kissed her. The first few tastes were reserved, but then Sabé shuddered like a sob and clung more fiercely, asking for more, and he could not deny her. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her small body off the floor. He explored her mouth as though fevered, tasted the salt of her tears in his mouth, felt her breath on his skin, felt the clash of her joy and sorrow through the Force, and all of her secret words were spoken between them with no need of translation.

When he finally worked up the strength to end it, he pulled her close and for a long time they stood, not speaking.

"I love you," she finally murmured into the front of his robes. "I always will."

When he made no response, she looked up at him, a tiny spark of fear in her eyes. He could not deny her a response, not when she was in his arms, her heart laid open and vulnerable before him. "You were right," he said simply. "Not even the Jedi are greater than love. Not even me."

She relaxed into his embrace again, content with his words. He kissed her hair. A quiet ache had already taken up residence inside his heart, and he knew it was not going to go away. He looked out at the stars that would call him away tomorrow, knowing that a part of him would never leave.

Epilogue

Richard's wedding day was as cold as everyone had anticipated. Sabé stood between her sisters and looked on, thinking fondly of a conversation she'd shared with her baby brother a long time ago. They'd joked about the possibility he would wed before any of his three older sisters.

The priest went systematically through the traditional invocations, and Richard and his bride listened with somber attention. Yvenne looked beautiful. Sabé admired the fortitude of this girl, who had already begun adjusting to her new world as adeptly as one of her former feline charges. Yvenne Sorenst was one of the strongest people Sabé had ever met outside of her family. She would make a fine queen, a great mother, and a good friend.

The wedding took place in the great cavern, which had been polished until it sparkled. The ceremony itself was near the cave mouth, and from where she stood Sabé had a good view of the outside through the membrane screen the Gungans had provided. The landscape below was dressed very much like Yvenne, in white lace, bright and delicate. Even the blue of the ice matched the hints of sky blue that Danae Trillium had used to accent Yvenne's gown, which offset her red hair so strikingly.

Sabé glanced up at the crystal clear sky. Since Ben had departed she hadn't stopped looking up. The sky had taken him away. Sabé had stood on the grand balcony to watch the Jedi vessel depart Naboo. Her lips still burned with memory of his kiss and that sky presented the greatest chance of every laying eyes on him again.

Somewhat sadly, she turned back to the ceremony and tried to turn her thoughts only to happiness for her brother. It was difficult, though, for she knew with utmost certainty that the Naboo would never gather here this way for the wedding of Sabé Vána Naberrie.

She would only marry where she loved, and her heart was gone from her body, wandering the stars with a Jedi Master.

Author's Notes:

Well, here we are. The end of a journey. Melyanna and I started this story almost four years ago, and so many things about my life have changed since that time. I've been thinking about it a lot as I wrote these last few scenes with mixture of fondess and nostalgia.

I don't yet know if I'd like to write the third story or not. In order to write the summary I've promised I'd have to hammer out the structure and pacing of the fic, and knowing me that in itself might be inspiring enough to make me try, but if I do take that step I can assure you that the writing of it will probably be pretty slow.

A few thanks and acknowledgements. My erstwhile coauthor, of course, Melyanna who made a teensy comeback for this final post by suggesting a line of dialogue for Ceidron and helping me tie off the Ben/Sabé scene a thousand times better than I did in my original draft. To Padawan Lunetta, wherever she's gotten herself to, who was the inspiration for this obscure AU Naberrie family saga. To all of those readers who've actually hung on all this time, most especially Miana Kenobi, Obischick, Shinar, and jade51999, jazzcat, Emerald Green Queen, and Moryan.

The final Sabé/Ben scene is dedicated especially to Miana Kenobi and MsRaven, whose enthusiasm for our spunky princess and her knight kept me commmitted to this fic even when I barely wanted to look at it anymore. I would also like to thank the following three pieces of music for its inspiration:

BEFORE: (getting inspired for the scene) "One Day" - from the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack Pirates of the Carribbean: At World's End. A friend of mine once said of this piece of music "This song pretty much has one purpose: to make the audience cry." The parallels between Will/Elizabeth in i Pirates /i and Sabé/Ben in this story (not the least of which is that Keira Knightly plays both characters - lol) helped me get in the mood for what I wanted the scene to feel like. Anybody who loves movie music needs to buy the Pirates 3 soundtrack immediately. It is, in short, a masterpiece.

DURING: (while I was writing the scene) "The Kiss" - from the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack The Last of the Mohicans. This is one of the most spiritually evocative pieces of romantic music ever written. It pulls you in with a combination of a steady, sensual folk fiddle cue slowly overtaken by a loftier theme on strings that makes you just want to close your eyes and fly away somewhere.

AFTER: (completing the experience) "As Long as You're Mine" - from the Original Broadway Cast Recording Wicked. "And just for this moment, as long as you're mine, I've lost all resistance, and crossed all the lines." The rest of the lyrics are equally as fitting. I love this song. It's beautiful, and has this amazing sense of sadness despite how huge and sweeping and heavily-orchestrated it is.

Finally, for anyone who wants to know the ultimate fate of some of these characters, but doesn't want to hold out patience for either the summary or the fic itself, you can find it all out in a roundabout way by trolling through the dusty old archives of the Jedi Council Fan Fic Forums at theforce(dot)net and reading the stories in this series as written by Padawan Lunetta and Melyanna. All are set in the New Jedi Order era, and in some cases draw upon NJO canon, but only when convenient. ;-)

These three are probably the most important:

(Warning to the faint of heart: These stories are unabashedly fluffy and full of quite a lot of deliberate cliché. Let's just say that Lunita insists her fairy tales follow form. ;-) )

Clouded Memories by Melyanna. Anakin Solo is surprised when he makes an emerency landing, only to find himself on the legendary planet of Naboo, long believed to have been destroyed with the rise of the Empire. It has, in fact, been hidden for two decades, but more surprising to Anakin are the connections he discovers there to his own past.

Shadows of a Past Long Forgotten by Padawan Lunetta. Helaine Trillium, former Padawan to Jedi Master Lanelle Caine, awakes from cryogenic stasis sixty years after the world she knew came to an end. She has no memory of her former life, but a friendship with a handsome Prince begins to spark more than just her memory.

Why Love Was Forbidden in the Old Jedi Order by Padwan Lunetta and Melyanna. If you think the title is long, wait till you see the fic. LOL. This one, not unlike Forget Me Not is a sappy romp through several different pairings of mostly Original Characters. For those of you who've read this story, I'll drop the following tidbit: Pavol is Ceidron's grandson, but I won't reveal the whole story behind that at this time ;-).

You can also find direct links to these stories if you go to my live journal account (sache8(dot)livejournal(dot)com) and hit the "forget me not" tag on the tag list to the side. The direct links are in the bottom of the posting of this last chapter.