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Imperial City, Coruscant
Pavol Drian threaded his way through the people in the ballroom, trying to find Armand. A week of playing the "average" citizen had done wonders to humble the Prince, but it made him twice as hard to guard. On Naboo, Armand would often avoid, even hide, from his guards to be alone for a few minutes. His anonymity on Coruscant caused him to feel independent, even invulnerable to the dangers around him. Armand would often leave the Hotel without mentioning where he was going, half hoping and half expecting to not be followed. He’d often even disappear for up to thirty minutes before his guards could track him down. Such behavior was not only dangerous, it was downright annoying for those sworn to put his life before their own.
Armand rarely avoided Pavol on purpose though, since he was his most trusted guard and even dear friend. Pavol suspected that Armand was merely blowing off steam somewhere after his quite vocal encounter with the New Republic president. He headed towards the ballroom doors, when a striking brunette cut across his line of sight. The long, figure fitting red dress somehow made her look taller, a blush of makeup enhanced her natural beauty, and her normally plain hair was pulled up into an exquisite bun with tendrils of curls framing her familiar face. Pavol found a smile forming on his lips as he approached Julya and her friends. "Milady Kenobi," he greeted her formally, taking her hand and bowing as he kissed it.
"Pavol," Julie said, too shocked to correct him. "What are you doing here?"
"Accompanying... a friend," Pavol replied, then raised a questioning eyebrow. "And you, Milady?"
"Julie," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "I am here to help represent the Jedi. I’m a trainee."
"I see," Pavol said, thoughtfully nodding his head.
One of Julya’s friends, a dark haired beauty on the arm of Jacen Solo, cleared her throat, reminding Julie she had forgotten to introduce her. A hint of pink touched Julie’s cheeks. "Pavol Drian, this is Nadia Montaigne and Jacen Solo."
Pavol glanced at Nadia, observing her perfect posture, the dignified tilt of her chin, and the overall majestic air that she emanated. She had to be Nobility, or at least thought of herself that way. Pavol wasn’t sure whether he should bow to her, or shake her hand. Pavol studied her face a moment more, peered into her dark eyes, recognizing the aristocratic glint in them, and immediately bowed at the waist. Nadia had to be Royalty, her countenance screamed of it. He took her soft hand in his own and kissed it. "Milady Montaigne."
Nadia squeezed his hand, then released hers from his grip. "Nadia," she corrected him, amusement flickering in her eyes, shadowed only briefly by faint wistfulness.
Pavol turned to Jacen. "Jacen Solo, right?" Jacen nodded. "We’ve already met."
Jacen cocked his head. "You work at the spaceport with Armand."
Julie’s eyes widened. "Armand works at the spaceport?" She hid a snicker behind her hand. "Why can I not see that?"
Pavol shrugged his shoulders. "He loves to work on ships, and... he actually enjoys it, Julie."
"He didn’t seem like the space mechanic type," Jacen commented.
"He’s not." Julie shook her head, amazed by the Prince of Naboo’s choice of work. Her cousin had always been so pristine, formal...prideful.
"So wait, just who is he, Julie?" Jacen asked, studying her face. "He’s obviously from Naboo, like you. And I was under the impression that you had to sneak away because no one was allowed to leave Naboo."
"Jacen," Julie interrupted him. "If I can leave the world, then Armand and Pavol certainly can without hidden agendas." She winked at Pavol. "Besides, you can always ask Armand about it. He’s a pretty nice guy."
***
The music slowed to a soft, almost wistful tune, inviting the kind of dancing Luke Skywalker liked and could perform best. Luke pulled Mara closer to him, until their cheeks touched and a sheet of flimsy couldn’t fit between them.
"Funny," Mara breathed against his ear. "That you have no objections to dancing this way, Skywalker."
"Why?" Luke asked, mildly surprised. He tightened his arm around her waist. "I have no problem with dancing this close to you. In fact, I bet we could get even closer."
"Probably," Mara said, leaning her head back so she could her husband’s face. "But you certainly had problems with how close Jaina and Jagged were dancing."
The skin around Luke’s eyes tightened, and he pursed his lips. "Well... I am not dancing with his niece."
"I hope not," Mara said, giving him a wry smile. "That would make my family nearly as interesting as yours."
"Almost," Luke agreed, his blue eyes sparkling. "Thankfully, Jag doesn’t seem to care how close we dance," he said, casting a quick glance to the Colonel.
"He doesn’t see anyone but Jaina," Mara said, then sensing Luke’s frown, arched an eyebrow at him. "Jaina could do a lot worse, Luke."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Mara shook her head. "I am just trying to attempt the impossible."
"And that is?" Luke asked, though he got the feeling he already knew the answer.
"Getting you to think logically when it comes to protecting your family."
"You don’t seem to mind with Ben," Luke said, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Ben is a helpless child," Mara reminded him. "And Jaina is a grown woman."
Luke sighed. "I know, but sometimes..." he paused, gathering his thoughts. "I just can’t see past the little girl she once was."
"Old age is already affecting your sight," Mara observed.
Luke laughed softly. "I guess so." Their eyes met, and Luke realized just how close their faces really were. His nose practically brushed Mara’s, her beautiful green eyes burned into his. Luke gently pressed his hand to her cheek, inclined his head to kiss her, when he felt at least ten other pairs of eyes watching him. Luke’s head came up, annoyed, but not very surprised that he and Mara were "putting on a show" for some of the other dancers.
Mara cocked her head towards the gardens, tightening her hand on his shoulder. More private, Luke caught from their bond in the Force. Farmboy, Mara added with a smug smile.
***
"There you are."
Cianna turned around and saw her Master standing at the entrance to the walled garden outside the ballroom. "Master," she began.
He held up a hand. "No need for explanations," Ganner cut in. "This isn't really your kind of thing." She sensed slight hesitation on his part before he continued, "You look quite lovely tonight, Cianna."
She blushed at his unexpected compliment and glanced down at her blue gown, smoothing the bodice with a gloved hand. "Thank you, Master." She looked back up at him and saw an unexpected look of anxiety on his face. "What is it, Master?"
He smiled slightly as the music of a minuet drifted into the garden. "May I have this dance, Cianna?"
Without thinking, she smiled back at him. "I would be honored, Master."
He crossed the distance between them and took her hand in his. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and she felt him place his free hand just above her waist. Something resembling shock crossed through his eyes as he realized that the dress she was wearing was backless - he obviously hadn't seen her from behind that evening. However, he seemed to push the thought of her bare skin out of his mind and led her in the dance.
Before the music was finished, he had pulled her closer to himself, and soon they were so close that dancing was impossible. The music had stopped, though it barely registered in Cianna's mind, as she laid her head on Ganner's chest, and his other hand released hers and touched her back, pulling her closer still.
"Cianna," he said softly.
She lifted her head and blinked lazily. Since the night of the horrendous vision of the murders, her Master's arms had been a place of comfort to her, but now she longed for something else, for the moment in which he had simply been a man and not her Master. The look of desire in his eyes told her that the moment had come again.
"Cianna," he breathed again. One hand now played with her hair, and soon he began to brush his fingers lightly across her face. His fingers lingered for a long time on her trembling lips, setting her heart racing. They gazed deep into each other's eyes as the music of the next dance began.
She was keenly aware of the way Ganner's hand traced the edge of her dress’s backline . Almost without thinking about it, she brought her free hand up and traced the scar on his face. She could feel his warm breath on her face as she ran her hand back into his hair and he bowed his head a little. Their eyes met for a moment, and knowledge unspoken was conveyed to them both. Cianna dropped her gaze and let her eyelids flutter closed.
She could sense Ganner approaching, as he pulled her so close that she could barely breathe, his own quick breath hot on her face. As time slowed, she felt phantoms of touch from his lips, and she parted her own lips slightly.
Then suddenly, a rush of pain jolted through her, causing her to lose her balance and cry out in agony. She would have fallen to her knees had Ganner's strong arms not been around her slender body and able to catch her. "Cianna," Ganner whispered with intensity.
The pain was still there, and Cianna felt for a moment that she might vomit. She could not trust her voice, and her mind would not find the words for what she had seen, so she merely lifted her eyes to his once more.
He touched her mind with the Force, wordlessly asking her to show him what she had seen. She didn't even realize that she had built walls around her mind, so she carefully lowered them, letting her Master search for what had caused her such pain. When he found it, he drew in his breath sharply.
She had seen the glory of the Jedi Temple destroyed, and a bird rising up from the ashes.
"I thought you could only see the future," Ganner murmured, drawing her back into his embrace and trying to sooth her. "Could it be that you see the past as well?"
"I don't know," she whispered, welcoming his sudden change back to her Master. This was what she had thought she had wanted, but now their relationship was significantly more complicated. The memory of the passion in his eyes still swirling through her mind, she breathed, "I don't know anything."
Luke Skywalker stared as two of his Jedi almost kissed, Master and apprentice. If Cianna’s vision hadn’t interrupted, and Mara hadn’t placed a restraining hand on his arm, he would have stopped it. He should have known better than to pair them up, being so close in age, especially with the effect Ganner had on women. He was going to have to talk to Ganner about that in the morning. Luke cleared his throat to bring their attention to him, keeping his bearing and facial expression stoic.
"Masters Skywalker," Ganner said formally, surprise radiating out of him through the Force.
Cianna inclined her head respectfully, pink touching her cheeks.
"Ganner, Cianna," Luke greeted them. "What is going on?"
"Cianna has had another vision, Master." Ganner informed him. "Of the past."
Luke raised an eyebrow, his innate curiosity piqued. "What did you see?"
"The glory of the Old Temple destroyed, and a bird rising from the ashes." Cianna cocked her head. "What do you think it means, Master Skywalker?"
"I’m not sure," Luke said thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is a symbol of our new Jedi Order, rising from the dust of the old..."
"Whoa," Cianna breathed, barely hearing the Master’s words as she noticed a building that had never stood out to her before. "Master, that’s it!"
"What’s it?" Ganner asked, following her gaze.
"That building," Cianna said, touching his arm. "It’s the old temple."
***
Armand Naberrie stared at Lainey, aware that he had just kissed a virtual stranger. Like so many fairytales "he didn’t even know her name." Well, at least her last name anyway. And yet...her one kiss held more meaning for him than any of the other women he had dated combined. Lainey was returning his stare, raising one eyebrow as if expecting him to speak.
By all the Gungan Gods, she was beautiful. Armand couldn’t be sure if it was the gorgeous dress that she had put on, the way she did her hair, or the mere fact that he was falling for her at an alarming rate, that somehow made her seem lovelier than before.
"Armand," Lainey said, growing impatient with his lack of answer. "Shouldn’t we discuss..."
"The kiss?" he finished for her.
"What just happened between us," Lainey corrected him, favoring him with a small smile. "It was..."
"Great, wonderful, fantastic, perfect..."
"Forbidden," Lainey said seriously, folding her arms.
Armand fought his jaw from dropping. He hadn’t expected that. "Forbidden?" he asked incredulously. "What do you mean?"
"Jedi aren’t supposed to fall in love. It goes against the code."
Armand frowned at her. "The very code Luke Skywalker broke when he married Mara Jade? Or how about your own Master, Corran Horn and his wife?"
Lainey unfolded her arms to rub at her temples. "I don’t know." She looked up at him. "I haven’t always been a part of Master Skywalker’s order."
"Really?" Armand asked, surprised. "I was under the impression you’d only been training for two weeks."
Lainey shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly Armand, I wouldn’t know." She paused, her blue eyes shifting to the floor. "I don’t even know who I am."
"You have amnesia?" Armand asked softly.
She nodded her head. "But I do know some things, like love being forbidden." She winked at him.
Like Anakin Skywalker and Queen Amidala, Armand thought. "What other Jedi factions are there? Do you know?"
"Just Kyp’s. He’s supposed to be following certain ‘Old Republic’ ways," Lainey informed him. "Master Horn thinks I might have trained under him."
"Oh." Armand rubbed his chin. "Why would he want to forbid love?"
"I don’t know..." Lainey said, then her blue eyes lit up. "If I remember correctly, he was scorned by Jaina Solo." She grinned. "He nearly lost the Force over it."
Armand returned her smile. "So a bitter Master forbids his Jedi from falling in love, and you choose to follow him anyway?"
"I also don’t know how Master Horn would react," Lainey said. "I also don’t know Master Skywalker’s rules regarding dating. What if only Knights can do it?" She paused, her eyes meeting his. "You know as long as I haven’t been told the rules, I’m not exactly breaking them..."
"I didn’t think you were the rebellious type, Lainey," Armand said, somewhat shocked, and amused.
She touched his arm. "Only for some things."
Armand covered her hand with his. "And it’s only rebelling if you know you are doing something wrong, right?"
"Right." Lainey nodded. "And what could be more romantic than secret love?" She slipped her arm around his neck. "Not to mention paparazzi tends to follow handsome Princes."
Armand raised an eyebrow. "And they don’t Jedi?"
Lainey smiled. "We know how to avoid them."
Armand slipped his arm around her waist, closing the distance between them. "Would you care to enlighten me on how to do that?"
"It has something to do with the Force."
"Something I will never understand," Armand said with a slight frown.
Lainey trailed her hand up and down his neck. "The Force is in everything, it’s just stronger in Jedi. You could be taught to clear your mind enough to hear its gentle whisperings." Armand opened his mouth to protest, but Lainey continued before he could get another word out. "It wouldn’t be anything big like a vision, or actual words in your mind. It could be nothing more than a very strong feeling that something is right, or wrong. Maybe the answer to a question you have been wondering about is answered in a book you’ve read a thousand times, or it just suddenly runs through your mind.
"Maybe you have a bad feeling about something, or have the urgent need to check on a loved one who is in trouble. My point, Armand, is that the Force will guide anyone who is willing to listen." Her face and tone turned very serious. "And not just the Light Side."
Armand nodded, catching her very subtle warning. While he certainly couldn’t turn into another Darth Vader, the consequence of his actions that were influenced by the Dark Side would still hurt someone. Armand tried to think of times that he had been under the Dark Side’s influence, then froze, shocked at the way he was thinking. He was no Jedi, and yet... the examples Lainey had given him made perfect sense. He’d experienced them before. "I will take your advice to heart, Jedi Lainey."
Lainey flushed, a shy smile touching her lips. "Good," she said, lifting her chin up. Then choosing to break the serious mood that had fallen over him, she added, "It’s great advice, if I do say so myself."
Armand grinned and kissed her cheek. "You’d better go back in, before you are missed too much."
Lainey nodded, though she wrapped her other arm around his neck. "I guess I’d better go then."
"Yeah." Armand kissed the side of her mouth. "You’d better."
"I’m going." Lainey closed her eyes, and kissed him full on the mouth.
"You’re practically gone," Armand said when their lips parted. He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her firmly on the lips, started to open his mouth, and immediately broke off the kiss. He wasn't about to force anything on her. He read confusion in her eyes, and smiled in an attempt to reassure her. He stroked her cheek with his palm. "Goodnight, Lainey."
"Goodnight," she said, sliding out of his arms and giving him a small wave before entering the ballroom once again.
Copyright 2002 by Luney.
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