Falling from Grace 11/16

by Christina, kenobijedione@yahoo.com

Rating: this chapter PG

Warnings, disclaimers, etc. in part 1

Chapter 11: Old Friends and Lovers

Anakin had an overwhelming sense of deja vu as he stood amongst the royal court, dressed to the nines in Jedi attire, hood drawn as a sign of respect until the family arrived.

He stood next to his Master who remained stiff and uncommunicative, a facade his Apprentice expected him to keep through this night. Unlike the last time he’d presenced in this Palace, the young Jedi Skywalker was the focus of this party, in honor of his successful passage of the Trials not two days before.

Earlier that day, he'd stood with his Master and the Ancient Master Yoda and been granted into Knighthood. It was difficult for Anakin to think of himself as a Jedi, equal to Kenobi on all planes. Obi-Wan had told him that it would come easier with time, and that it would be he who would have a harder time giving up the endearing term of Padawan for his young friend. Anakin had shown great courage and strength in the recently past Clone Wars, he and Kenobi serving with distinction and honor.

Obi-Wan had been granted General status for his heroics in the war, and Anakin had been allowed to take the Trials months earlier than most of his Jedi Academy counterparts. Royals and Jedi alike gathered in the room to wish them well in their future endeavors.

Anakin wondered if the Princess would attend the ball. As far as he knew, she and his former Master had not set eyes on each other since the night of Sena's death at the royal summer cottage, twelve long months ago. Anakin had endeavored to keep in touch with the girl for some time after the tragedy, feeling the necessity to maintain the friendship as well as a connection to the slain girl the Princess had called her best friend. However, after three or four months, it began drawing a strain on the relationship between Master and Padawan. Anakin felt guilty each time he left the Temple to meet the girl, not wanting to lie to his Master but uncomfortable in telling him the truth.

Instead, the Wars came as a welcome distraction, taking himself and Obi-Wan to galaxies far away, every concentration demanding focus on the present. Anakin knew his Master had excelled in the war for more reasons than his exceptional skill as a pilot, fighter and diplomat. He'd thrown every fiber of his being into the challenge, his only reprieve from the insistent pounding of memories in his mind; thoughts of the girl he loved but could not have, the future he'd seen but would never encounter again.

The change in Obi-Wan since Sena's death was pronounced. Anger invaded his thoughts more easily than ever before. His serenity was severely scarred, possibly irreparable. He mediated nearly twice or three times as much, if only to gain control of the tumultuous ire that boiled through his veins. His practices were harder, less forgiving; his contradictions subtly more harsh; his expectations infinitely higher.

Anakin had risen to the challenge, spending hour after hour forcing himself to appease his Master, often feeling restless and resentful for the difficult schedule. But now, standing here amidst admirers in Knighthood, a war hero, it was worth it. Obi-Wan had tested the boy's limits, yes, but Anakin had proved his competency beyond a doubt, and he knew Kenobi was more proud of him than he ever had hoped to be. Anakin smiled inwardly at the thought and tentatively called out to his former Master.

Master?

He could not bring himself to call Kenobi by any other name. Anakin was surprised with a response.

Yes, Anakin.

The connection was not severed, walls were not up. Yet. The Princess had not yet arrived.

Thank you, Master. For everything you have done for me since our meeting on Tatooine.

Anakin settled with this thought, unable to contain the smile tugging on his lips. He felt content, relaxed, and perhaps that was why he didn't notice the quaking of the Force, an omen for devastation to come.

***

Princess Kalyia Amaya pulled at the straps of her emerald green dress, an exact replica of the color of her eyes. She was restless, impatient for the night to finally end. Her entrance had been relatively uneventful; she came down the stairs on Prince Daman's arm and carefully avoided all eye contact with Obi-Wan. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, it was that she was afraid to see him. Many months were spent carefully healing her heart from it's shattered state after Sena's death.

Barriers were erected, shields put in place, walls that would keep her from ever feeling that kind of pain again. She was afraid that a single look from him could crack the immunity. A stare, a touch, a spoken word might send her crumbling.

Sobs rose in her throat as they often did at too much thought of the heroic Jedi and she impatiently swallowed them down. She felt a tugging at her arm but hesitated to turn, afraid that a tear would escape her lids before she could stop it. Finally, the insistent person came to her, flowing robes circling around her that made Kalyia's heart skip a beat.

It was Anakin.

"Skywalker," she berated, covering her sadness by putting a hand over her chest and feigning surprise. "You scared me."

He smiled sheepishly, a grin she'd come to know and adore. "Sorry," he muttered, bowing slightly for the appearance of the royalties around them.

Kalyia bowed in turn, wishing she was anywhere but there at the moment. The way the new Jedi Knight was studying her made her squirm. It was as though he could read her thoughts, her heart, her soul. She carefully cleared her mind of thoughts of the boy's former Master.

Anakin laughed. "You're getting good," he commented wryly.

Raising one eyebrow, Kalyia resisted the urge to condemn him for invading her privacy and simply shot him a hurt look. "I thought I could trust you better than that, kiddo," she berated softly. "I wouldn't like to have to clear my mind around you."

The young Jedi looked at the beautiful Princess apologetically. "I'm sorry, Princess," he said sincerely. "I wasn't trying to read into your thoughts, I just sensed a sadness about you and--"

Green eyes flashed and the girl quickly looked around for any too-curious onlookers before speaking her reprimand. "You could have asked," she hissed, leaning forward.

Skywalker hesitated only a moment before grabbing the girl's arm and pulling her toward the doors. "Come on," he insisted, throwing a quick message to his former Master not to worry and that he would be back. He knew Obi-Wan would be in the same place he'd left him, surrounded by other Generals, Commanders and X-Wing pilots urging him to tell story after story of their famous battle.

The cool night air was a welcome reprieve for the Princess and she sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes. Anakin watched her with interest before crooking his arm and holding it out to her, cocking one eyebrow as he did so. "Care to walk?" he asked, smiling as she took his arm with a resigned sigh and pulled him toward the Palace's launching grounds. The two walked in silence for a long while, until the hum of the aircraft in the air above them forced Anakin to ask, "why are we walking around on the launching grounds?"

Kalyia smiled and stopped walking, staring off into the lights of distant ships, lined up and waiting for permission to land. "This is the only place we're sure not to run into anyone from the party," she said cryptically. "Unless they're leaving. And that's just fine with me."

Anakin chuckled and watched the pilots tend to their planes, marveling at how many rich people had a full-time pilot to whisk them away at the drop of a hat. He'd much rather fly himself, no matter how rich he got. His eyes drifted to a small squadron of X-Wings docked just at the end of the landing pad, nearest to them. They were unattended and he could only assume they belonged to the Rogue Squadron who had flown in from Alderaan for the event.

"Who else are you trying to avoid?" he pried, moving behind the Princess and resting one arm affectionately on her shoulder. He leaned into her, using her as a prop-up.

She snorted and pushed him away. "If you mean your Master--your former Master," she amended, "I'm not avoiding him." She was lying and Skywalker knew it.

"Right," he chided lightly, careful not to strike a nerve with this subject. He quickly switched tactics, hoping to avoid any type of confrontation. "What about that guy you arrived with? He seemed pretty damn important."

Kalyia laughed. Reaching up, she smoothed her hand over his close cropped hair. He usually liked to wear it longer, but as a Padawan had been required to keep it close and even. Obi-Wan had let him grow it out to his own personal style when they were on long missions, but he always ended up cutting it back down to standard again when he returned to Courscant. For battle, most Jedi and fighters alike sported a short crop, as they needed as little in their way as possible.

"That’s Prince Daman of Alderaan," she explained distractedly. "I guess you could say he’s important," she mused. "Oh but not as important as you," she appeased him.

As though an apparition, the Prince in question appeared behind them, somehow knowing they were there.

"At least on this night," he said, only half-kidding.

Kalyia rolled her eyes and turned, plastering on a smile and bowing graciously. Anakin did the same. The Prince shook his head. "Cut the formalities, Princess," he said roughly. Holding his hand out to the Jedi, Daman said, "Prince Daman Britaina of Alderaan."

Anakin took the Prince's hand and shook it. "Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight."

Daman smiled at Kalyia and tilted his head, almost in amusement. The Princess groaned inwardly. Daman assumed all Jedi were as serene as they appeared, but he didn't know this one. Anakin had a streak that he just did not bother to control. When someone made him mad, he showed it. When someone talked down to him, he set them straight. She braced herself for a confrontation.

The one that came was not what she expected.

***

Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed and stole another glance around the room. His former Padawan was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the Princess. He caught the Queen's eye and she waved him over. Bowing slightly to the gentlemen he'd been in the presence of, he excused himself and weaved his way through the crowd. Approaching the Queen he bowed deeply.

"My Queen, it is an honor to see you again. You look lovely tonight."

The Queen smiled. "Even the good General does not lose his sentiment," she observed. "I'd like to formally congratulate you, Obi-Wan, on your success in the war and your appointment as General. I must admit it came as no surprise to me."

Obi-Wan dipped his head and chuckled softly. "It came as a surprise to me," he admitted. "However my Padawan's success--" he paused and smiled. "My former Padawan's success is a much greater feat."

The Queen looked around then lowered her voice, leaning into the Jedi and speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. "He's not here, Obi-Wan. Take the credit you deserve."

Obi-Wan laughed again and nodded is agreement. He wished to ask of her daughter but thought better of it, realizing the conversation could then lead nowhere productive. He was sure Kalyia was happy and succeeding in life; her personality required it. The Princess accepted nothing less than what she deserved, which was, infinitely, the best.

A screaming of jet engines overhead startled him and he instantly reached for his light saber, drawing the weapon but not igniting it. A quick look around the room indicated that many Jedi did the same. The warning of danger crept across his senses and he wondered what attacker would fathom a strike on Courscant, the place of all places where every Jedi was present? The why's never mattered in a situation like this. Screams could be heard from outside and the Jedi leapt into action, Kenobi's first instinct to cover the Queen. Her bodyguards, however, whisked her away to a hidden room, a room even the Jedi Masters did not know about. And Kenobi was alone. He started toward the party room doors when he stopped, froze in place and called out to his former Padawan.