Author’s Note: the title is from “Days of Our Lives” –
this is dedicated to my slightly batty roommate who
watches it every day.
The conversation between Obi-Wan and
Lorelei is, nearly word for word, the same
conversation from A Life Less Ordinary between Ewan
and Cameron Diaz. If you haven’t seen it, I highly
recommend it.
Part 1
Qui-Gon scanned the data pad that Master Windu had given him. He knew some of the parties involved. In fact, he’d been the mediator at the original treaty signing. He was now regretting some of the decisions he’d let the ruling factions make all those years ago.
“Master?” The voice of his Padawan interrupted his thoughts.
“Yes, Obi-Wan?”
“The mission, Master? You were going to tell me what we’re doing this time,” Obi-Wan said hesitantly. Qui-Gon had rebuked him often enough for asking too many questions.
Qui-Gon sighed. “Yes, Padawan, I was. I got… distracted.”
Obi-Wan grinned up at his Master. “I hear that happens often in the elderly,” he said impishly, wisely stepping out of swatting range.
“Brat,” Qui-Gon growled. “Keep up like that and I… shall tell you nothing at all.”
Obi-Wan ducked his head respectfully. “Yes, Master.”
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. “Alright, Padawan. Our mission is fairly straightforward. The Accords of K’sif – at which, incidentally, I was the Jedi mediator several years ago – demand that the Princess Lorelei of the Solein marry the Prince of neighboring Dris-Peth.”
Obi-Wan gaped. “You let them put in an Accord that said that?” he asked, incredulous.
Qui-Gon regarded the younger man. “Obi-Wan, you are well aware that we cannot force politics to occur or not occur on any world. We are merely guides. Both parties agreed to the stipulation.” He did not voice his opinion to the other man.
“Did the Princess Lorelei have a say in the matter?” Obi-Wan asked.
“No,” said Qui-Gon. “She was three years old at the time. Her father, the King of the Solein people, agreed however and the Accords were signed.”
“But that’s… barbaric,” Obi-Wan floundered.
“We are not to judge the merit of the customs of others, Padawan.”
Obi-Wan sighed. He knew arguing with his Master was pointless, but he did it anyway.
“How old is she now?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to change the subject.
“She’s nearly twenty. That was the agreement. Her twentieth birthday shall be her wedding day.”
“And how old is the Prince?”
“He’s thirty-seven.”
Obi-Wan stared. In the argument with his Master, he’d completely forgotten that Qui-Gon had never told him exactly what their mission was to be.
“Are we to witness the ceremony?” he asked.
“Yes, although that’s hardly why we’re going. Our mission is to safely transport the Princess Lorelei to Dris-Peth to meet her future husband. The King is quite fond of his daughter and has expressly asked the Jedi to make sure she arrives safely.”
“So fond that he’s willing to sell her for a treaty deal?” the Padawan asked sarcastically.
“Be civil, Obi-Wan.”
“Does she want to go?” Obi-Wan asked, changing the subject.
Qui-Gon sighed. “That I do not know, Padawan. But our mission is to keep the peace, not to cater to the whims of adolescent girls.”
“But Master,” Obi-Wan protested. “If she doesn’t want to go, are we to force her?”
Qui-Gon sighed again. It was the very same question he’d been asking himself all morning. “We shall have to wait and see, Padawan. We should be patient.”
Obi-Wan ground his teeth at the oft-uttered phrase, but was able to manage a nod.
Part 2
The Princess Lorelei stood at her window, gazing down at the milling throngs in the streets below. She was going to be married later this week – to a man who was nearly twice her age. A man she’d not met. She heaved a long-suffering sigh. She would be twenty in five days.
Despite the monitor she wore on a belt around her waist, the Princess was no blushing virgin. There were ways of turning the monitor off. She had discovered that shortly after her eighteenth birthday. She looked up slyly at the two ceremonial guards who stood on either side of her chamber door. She’d taken both of them to her bed, but neither one of them knew of the other’s interest in her. She liked it that way. It made life more interesting. Then there had been that… dalliance with the third floor butler. And the coachman – now, he’d been a prize – such a pity that he had been forced to marry her father’s chambermaid.
/So many partners,/ she thought with a sigh. /And soon there will be only my husband, a husband I neither know nor desire./
“Your Highness,” one of the guards said, breaking into her thoughts. “The Jedi are here.”
“Thank you, Sirris.” With another sigh the Princess rose. Her hands fluttered slightly nervously. She’d never met a Jedi before… well, she didn’t *remember* meeting Jedi Master Jinn, as she was only three at the time. She smoothed back her elaborately styled hair and then smoothed her dress as well. She took a deep breath and then walked out of her bedchamber for the last time. She was going to leave this life and enter a new one as a wife. As a Princess, she had been carefully schooled in not revealing her emotions. Although she was afraid her heart would break, nary a tear fell from her eyes.
“Greetings, Princess Lorelei,” said the taller of the two Jedi. Both of them bowed. “I am Qui-Gon Jinn and this is my Apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
She took in their features neutrally. She did not want to let on that she was quite intrigued by the younger of the two. He seemed to be in his early twenties. Taller than she, just a bit, but shorter than his Master. She nodded to them, as pleasantly as she could, given the circumstances.
“Let us be off, gentlemen. If I dawdle anymore, I’m afraid I will not be able to go at all.”
Qui-Gon nodded briskly. “Is there anything you need…? Any personal items? Luggage?”
“Most of my things have been shipped already, Master Jinn. The rest will be provided by my new husband.”
Obi-Wan thought she sounded sad. He would be too, he decided, if the situation were reversed. He didn’t say anything, however, and merely followed the Princess and his Master up the ramp into the transport.
_*_*_
Three hours out from the planet, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were sparring in an empty cargo hold. Qui-Gon had always been very firm about proper exercise while on a mission.
“Just because you’re on a luxury liner,” he would always say. “Is no reason to let your physical education suffer.”
The two of them had been practicing for nearly two hours now and Obi-Wan was drenched with sweat. Somewhat to the younger man’s chagrin, Qui-Gon appeared as fresh as when they’d started. Finally, Qui-Gon gave the signal to end the match. They each bowed to the other in the ritual fashion. Then they each began their cool-down stretches.
“Well,” Obi-Wan began, as he loosened the muscles in his arms. “I’m absolutely knackered.”
Qui-Gon allowed himself a small chuckle. “Very well. You can have the shower first. You seem to need it more than I do, anyway.”
Obi-Wan barely resisted the temptation to stick his tongue out at his Master.
_*_*_
Thirty minutes later, showered and freshly garbed, Obi-Wan entered the ship’s lounge. He nodded to the barmaid, who came over to him almost immediately. Having been on the ship for four days out from Coruscant, he was now on familiar terms with the woman.
“What can I get for you, young Obi-Wan?”
“I’d like something cold and sweet. What do you recommend, Martik?”
“Well,” Martik said thoughtfully. “It depends on whether you want that with or without alcohol.”
Obi-Wan considered the question. He was old enough and Qui-Gon wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t over do it.
“With, please,” he said.
“I’ve got some lovely C’jut rum. It mixes nicely with most fruit juices.”
Obi-Wan gave her an easy shrug and a grin. “Make me whatever you think I’ll like.” He slipped his credit chip across the counter.
A presence behind him made him turn. He saw with a small start of surprise that it was the Princess Lorelei.
“And here I thought the Jedi were boring, stuffy diplomats,” she said, giving him a smile. “I didn’t know you were allowed to drink.”
Obi-Wan smiled back politely. “We drink,” he said carefully. “We just don’t overdo it. The Jedi place a high value on inner discipline and personal decorum.”
Her smile broadened. “What’s the fun in that?”
Fortunately, Obi-Wan was saved from answering that question by the return of Martik, the barmaid. He accepted the drink with a nod of thanks and sipped it. It was good. Martik had done wonders with it, as usual.
“What do you call this, Martik?” he asked.
“Ytral Punch,” Martik answered him.
Princess Lorelei decided he wasn’t going to answer her question, so she changed the subject.
“Do you know how to play rekop?” she asked, referring to a card game popular on many worlds.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “But I won’t gamble with real credits. I’ll play if you want, but it’ll have to be just for fun.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
Several card games later – and more than a few glasses of Ytral Punch – Obi-Wan and the Princess were chatting amicably. She had moved from her position across the table and was now sitting beside him on the bench. Obi-Wan frowned, trying to remember when she’d done that.
He swallowed. He’d definitely had too much Ytral Punch. Qui-Gon was going to kill him. He couldn’t go back to their quarters drunk. No… he wasn’t drunk…yet. Just… tipsy. Yeah, that was it. He was tipsy.
“I…I should go,” he managed to get out. His tongue seemed thicker than normal.
“No,” the Princess said gently. “You can’t go back like you are. You should wait a bit. Drink some water or something.”
Water… water was a good idea. He called out Martik’s name, but no one answered. Blearily he looked towards the bar. The lights behind the counter had been shut off.
/How long have I been here?/ he wondered.
“I’ll get it for you,” Lorelei offered.
“No, not right. You’re a princess. I…I’ll get it.” Obi-Wan staggered to his feet. He nearly fell. She caught his arm.
“Thanks,” he said, thickly.
“Sit back down,” she ordered gently. He sat.
“You poor thing,” she continued, smoothing down his hair with a well-manicured hand. “You’re not used to this, are you?”
He shook his head. She continued to smooth his hair. Obi-Wan realized belatedly that she was no longer simply smoothing… it had definitely passed into the ‘petting’ stage. He blinked. And blinked again. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Something was definitely wrong here. Suddenly it struck him.
“No,” he said. “Stop. You’re married.”
“I’m not married, silly.”
He shook his head again, trying to find the words. “Not married,” he echoed. “No, not married. But almost married,” he said, brightly. /What’s that word? Oh, right, engaged./
“You’re engaged,” he said, pleased with himself for remembering such a difficult word.
“Sshhh,” she whispered, placing a finger over his lips. “That doesn’t matter.”
Obi-Wan grunted with surprise as she straddled his lap, a knee on either side of his hips. He felt warmth spread through his body. It was difficult to maintain his concentration, with both alcohol and lust clouding his senses. She pressed her lips to his, parting them with her tongue. Obi-Wan felt his resolve slipping away. The Force called to him. He couldn’t let this happen. This was *wrong*. He broke away from the kiss, shaking his head emphatically.
“No,” he said sternly. “I should go.” He lifted her clear and stood up. She pouted at him, but he ignored her. Not caring if he was being rude or not, Obi-Wan fled.
Qui-Gon gave him a disapproving glance as he came in, but the Jedi Master did not rebuke him. Obi-Wan didn’t say anything either, and, climbing into his bunk, fell into a deep, alcohol-induced sleep.
Part 3
The following morning, Qui-Gon was pointedly unsympathetic towards his Padawan’s aching head. Obi-Wan would have glared at his Master, but his eyes hurt too much.
Rubbing his face with one hand, Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon. “Master,” he began. “Do you know what she tried last night?”
“She? I assume you mean the Princess.”
“Uh huh. Anyway, she practically threw herself on me.”
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“She climbed into my lap,” Obi-Wan said, indignant. “And I wasn’t even flirting with her. At least, I don’t think I was.”
“You don’t think? Obi-Wan, you’ve been trained in more diplomacy than most sentient beings and you’re not sure if you were flirting?”
Obi-Wan winced. “I… I had a little too much to drink.”
“I noticed that,” Qui-Gon said dryly.
Obi-Wan blushed. “I didn’t *mean* to, I mean, I guess I did, but it wasn’t intentional.”
“Padawan, stop babbling.”
“Yes, Master.”
“It is ill advised to get drunk around women you hardly know.”
“Yes, Master.”
“*Especially* women we are escorting to their weddings.”
Obi-Wan’s blush darkened. “Yes, Master. I, uh, I tried to tell her that, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“You tried to tell her what?”
“I told her she was nearly married, and she shouldn’t be climbing all over me, petting me and kissing me-”
“What!” Qui-Gon interrupted him. “She kissed you?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “I told her not to.”
“Why do I not believe you?” Qui-Gon asked sarcastically.
“No, really!” Obi-Wan protested.
“Enough, Padawan. I do not think you need me to tell you just how delicate a situation like this can be. Now, I’m not saying that you can’t spend any more time with her – merely that you bear in mind that you are a Jedi, and, as such, are not inclined to have casual sex with whoever comes along. Especially when that person is engaged to be married within the week.”
“I don’t *want* to have casual sex with her, Master. It’s not that she’s not attractive,” he added on an afterthought. “I told her to stop, I really did.”
“Apparently our little Princess is more than we bargained for. I would suggest that you try to retain more… composure when next you meet with her.” The rebuke was gentle, but definitely there. Obi-Wan winced slightly.
“Yes, Master,” he acquiesced.
*-*-*
“Dammit!” screamed Lorelei, staring in horror at the readout. The test had come up positive two days running. That was a certain sign that it was working.
She sat heavily on a padded bench in her cabin, stunned beyond belief. She couldn’t be pregnant – not now! Her maids had told her it was bound to happen if she kept up certain… habits. From her best guess, she was about one month along, perhaps slightly less. Her future husband would know it was not his – there was no way she could pull that off. Although the ceremony was only a few days away, their marriage wouldn’t be consummated for nearly a month. That was the tradition of his people. By which time she’d be well and truly shafted.
“Well,” she said, speaking to the empty cabin. “The only way I see out of this is to make Kenobi think the brat is his.”
Two nights later, Obi-Wan sat in the ship’s lounge, reclining on a settee. He was sipping at a glass of juice. He’d sworn off the alcoholic punch after he’d emptied the contents of his stomach – repeatedly – into the waste recycler in their cabin. Plus, Qui-Gon’s disturbing lack of sympathy towards his condition had been unpleasant, to say the least. He felt a twinge of uneasiness come over him as he saw the Princess Lorelei enter. He’d been avoiding her for the last two days. He winced inwardly as she approached him.
She spoke first, saying, “I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other night. I didn’t realize the Jedi were celibate.”
Obi-Wan stifled a laugh. Celibate indeed. “We’re not,” he said. “We just… choose partners for more than lust alone.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, skeptically. “So… you’re a virgin, then?”
“Me? No, I’m not,” Obi-Wan said, honestly. “But I don’t just fly into things like that.”
“Oh,” said the princess. Outwardly, she was calm and serene, but inwardly she was screaming, ‘DAMN!’
After sitting for a few moments, she got up and walked to the bar. She returned with a tray of little tiny glasses filled with a clear liquid. The ones she placed in front of Obi-Wan were quite potent, but hers were filled with only water. Although she detested the fact that she had a life growing inside of her, she did not want to hurt it.
“Let’s play a game,” she suggested.
“What sort of game?” he asked suspiciously.
“The first one to finish all of the glasses wins.”
“What’s is it?” he asked.
“Aliu’qet,” she said, referring to a potent alcoholic substance, distilled from desert scrub plants.
“I’m not drinking any more alcohol,” Obi-Wan said. “I really got sick from that punch the other night.”
“Oh, so you’re scared you might lose to a girl,” she offered.
“I most certainly am not!”
“Well, then. Why don’t you want to play? Don’t you trust me?” she pouted.
Squashing the niggling voice inside his head that was telling him his Master would not approve, Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said darkly.
Grinning the Princess grasped the first shot glass in her hand. “Ready? Set? Go!”
*_*_*
Obi-Wan rolled over, his head hurting. He was disoriented. He wasn’t in his cabin, that much he could tell. Oh, Sith, but his head hurt. Rolling over a little more, he was somewhat shocked to discover that he was laying next to the Princess Lorelei. Even more shocking came when he threw back the blanket and discovered that they were both unclothed.
“Oh, Sith fly away with me now, before Master Qui-Gon finds out,” he grumbled.
Lorelei turned over, facing him. She smiled sleepily. “You were great,” she murmured.
“I was?” he asked, perplexed. He had no memory of having sex with her. In fact, he had no memory of last night at all.
Looking up at her blearily, he said, “I remember drinking aliu’qet.”
“That certainly was a feature of the evening,” she said, planting a kiss on his nose.
His head aching, he rose and pulled on his trousers and his tunic as quickly as he could. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tugged on his boots. “I have to go, I have to go right now,” he said urgently.
As he hurried out the door, the Princess allowed herself a feral grin.
_*_*_
Obi-Wan flung open the door to the cabin he shared with his Master. Qui-Gon glanced up from the data reader.
“Hello, Padawan. I was just beginning to worry about you.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Where were you?” he asked.
“Master, I’ve done something terrible,” Obi-Wan blurted.
Qui-Gon looked at him more carefully, taking in his somewhat rumpled appearance.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?” he said, his voice neutral.
“Slept? Yes, I slept. Um… well, I’m not sure if we had sex or not though,” Obi-Wan admitted.
Qui-Gon raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Obi-Wan, we had this conversation when you were thirteen. It’s a yes or no question.”
Obi-Wan blushed to the roots of his hair. “I know *that*,” he said. “What I mean is, I don’t remember.”
“And why don’t you remember, Padawan?”
“Well,” Obi-Wan paused to cough, embarrassed. “I… I was drunk.”
Qui-Gon took a deep breath. It would not do to get angry at Obi-Wan. The young man was swimming in enough guilt as it was. He pressed his fingers to his temples. He seemed to have developed a headache.
“Obi-Wan,” he began. “I thought we talked about this.”
“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “She sort of… dared me.”
“She dared you to have sex with her?”
“No, she challenged me to a drinking contest. I, uh, I think she won.”
The disappointment and disapproval in Qui-Gon’s eyes nearly broke Obi-Wan’s heart.
“Master, I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan started, but Qui-Gon cut him off with a waved hand.
“No, Padawan. I don’t want to know. I _really_ don’t want to know.”
“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan sighed. “I’ll just go throw myself out the nearest airlock or something,” he added melodramatically.
Qui-Gon caught him by his braid, swinging him around. “No, Obi-Wan. You’re going to stay right here while I go have a talk with that little hussy.”
Qui-Gon had felt a wave of anger wash over him when Obi-Wan told him about the dare, but he refused to let his emotions lead his actions. He would meditate on his anger and release it into the Force… then he would deal with his Padawan.
Part 5
Qui-Gon’s lengthy stride ate up the distance between his cabin and the princess’s in no time. He knocked curtly on the door.
“Come in,” called a voice from the other side.
He activated the door and stepped inside. He was somewhat surprised to find the princess slumped on a bench in her cabin, a data-readout in her hand. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, walking over and sitting beside her.
“I… I just ran the test. It came up positive.”
“What test?” he asked, although he felt her answer in the Force before she spoke.
“I’m pregnant.”
Qui-Gon looked perplexed. “You can tell this soon?”
She sniffled, looking up at him. “It’s the newest testing program.”
Qui-Gon frowned. Something didn’t seem quite right here. He glanced over her shoulder at the readout. Sure enough, the green light was blinking. She was indeed pregnant. So why did everything seem so wrong? Perhaps it was because he was going to strangle his Padawan. Yes, killing Obi-Wan seemed like a very good idea.
With an abrupt, “Good day, Your Highness,” Qui-Gon strode quickly from her chambers. Returning to his own, he hauled Obi-Wan to his feet.
Obi-Wan looked surprised. He’d been sitting on the floor meditating when Qui-Gon had burst in.
“You, Obi-Wan Kenobi, are going to die a slow, painful death. The only hard part will be explaining to the Council what happened to you.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes flew wide open. “Master? What are you talking about?”
“Princess Lorelei, who, let me remind you, we are escorting to her wedding, is pregnant. And you spent the night in her room. This looks very, very bad.”
“How can you be sure I’m the father?” he asked. “She’s a little manipulative…thing! At least, I assume so, since she was the one who seduced me. At least, I think she seduced me. I really don’t remember anything.”
“She wears, in case you didn’t notice, a chastity monitor on a belt around her waist.”
“If she wears a monitor, how could I have had sex with her?”
“You know as well as I do that the Force can be used to neutralize such instruments. I’ve seen you do it.”
“Ok, so, hypothetically, if I _did_ have sex with her, I was coherent enough to use the Force to knock out her monitor?” he asked sarcastically.
“You will keep a civil tongue in your head, Padawan. I am not amused by your behavior. You are in some serious trouble and I hardly recommend compounding it by mouthing off. Is that understood?”
Obi-Wan lowered his head. “Yes, Master,” he muttered sullenly.
“You’ve created what could potentially be an extremely volatile political situation.”
“*I* didn’t do this!” he nearly shouted in frustration. “She did.”
Qui-Gon glowered at his apprentice till the younger man’s ranting died away.
“Apparently, Obi-Wan, you are not able to discuss this situation rationally. You may sit out in the hallway until you have managed to control your emotions.”
“Master, I am *not* five years old!”
“Then quit acting like it,” Qui-Gon said, his voice low and dangerous.
Obi-Wan knew that tone of voice. When he was younger, it was a sure sign that he was heading for some pretty serious trouble. He was certain that it meant the same thing now. He certainly wasn’t going to push his mentor’s limits now – he had no wish to get in any more trouble than he was already in.
“Yes, Master,” he growled, storming into the hallway. He flung himself against the wall opposite the door to the cabin. He hunched his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his hands. “Why me?”
Something didn’t seem right, and it wasn’t just the fact that he’d been kicked out of his cabin for mouthing off. He tried to clear his mind and meditate on the problem at hand, but Qui-Gon’s disappointment cut him like a vibro-shiv. He took a deep breath, stilling his body. But he could not quiet his mind.
_*_*_
Qui-Gon paced the small cabin. Obi-Wan’s behavior had shocked him. He was headstrong and impatient, but he was rarely such an idiot. Qui-Gon had to deal with his own anger before he could focus on his Padawan’s mistakes.
Sitting on the floor he tried to meditate, but his thoughts were spinning in a dozen different directions. Was the baby really Obi-Wan’s? If it was, what were they going to do about it? They had their sworn duty to make sure the Princess married the Prince before the end of the week. If she was pregnant when they arrived, the Prince would surely find out that it wasn’t his baby – and then what? Sith, but his head hurt.
A knock on the door interrupted his musings.
“Master? Can I come in now?”
Qui-Gon frowned, but triggered the door mechanism. “I hope you are willing to discuss the situation in a mature manner?”
Obi-Wan’s cheeks reddened. “Yes, Master.”
“Alright, what do you wish to discuss?”
“I don’t think I can be the father,” Obi-Wan stated. “It’s too soon to tell.”
“I wondered that myself, Padawan, but the Princess said that it was the newest testing program.”
“And you believed her?” he asked, incredulous.
Frowning slightly at his apprentice’s tone, he said, “At the time. Although, I must admit it is rather odd.”
“Don’t you think we should look into this, Master? I mean, my future is at stake here.”
“Alright, Padawan. You seem convinced that it is not your baby. I concur that things seem odd, but that does not change the fact that you woke up in her bed this morning.”
Wincing slightly, Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, Master.”
“I will go and speak with Princess Lorelei again and try to ascertain the truth of the matter.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Obi-Wan.
“No, you most certainly will not. You’re staying right here.”
“But, Master-”
“No buts, Padawan. You will not leave this cabin until I return. Is that clear?”
Obi-Wan cursed inwardly, but he nodded.
Part 6
Back in the Princess’s cabin, Qui-Gon faced the young woman. She was still looking despondent. He held out his hand over her belly. “May I?” he asked.
Sniffling, she nodded. Qui-Gon placed his hand on her abdomen; his large fingers nearly spanned her entire waistline.
Yes, he could feel another life in there. His frown deepened. The life in her belly was far too advanced to have been conceived the night before. Turning his sternest gaze upon her, he said in a low voice, “You haven’t been completely honest with us, Princess. I think you’d best tell me the whole truth. Now.”
Princess Lorelei’s resolve melted under the Jedi’s stern gaze.
“I... *sniffle* … I was pregnant before. Before you came and got me on Solein. I’m so sorry, Master Jinn,” she said, tears streaming down her face.
“Yes, Princess, I’m sure you’re very sorry,” Qui-Gon murmured, patting her shoulder gently. “But that doesn’t help solve the problem. What are you going to tell your future husband?”
“I don’t know,” she wailed, throwing herself into his arms. He held her and let her cry for a long time. Finally, her wailing died down to intermittent sniffling and she pulled back. Qui-Gon looked at her, his gaze so intent that she turned her head.
“I would suggest that you start by telling him the truth,” the Jedi Master said.
“But, I can’t do that!” she protested vehemently. “If I show up at the wedding pregnant, the Prince won’t marry me and then the treaty will fall through and then my father will kill me!”
“Now, I doubt he’ll actually kill you,” said Qui-Gon, smiling faintly. “But I do image that the rest of your prediction is fairly accurate.”
“Then what do you suggest I do?” she asked.
“I’ve told you my suggestion. I think you should tell him the truth.”
“Any other ideas?” she asked.
Qui-Gon pursed his lips and regarded her. “I will not lie for you, Princess. Neither will I lie _to_ you, so I expect you to pay me the same courtesy.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What do you want to know?”
“Who is the father of your baby?” he asked.
Princess Lorelei swallowed. “I’m not sure,” she said honestly.
Qui-Gon blinked. “Just how many people might qualify for the somewhat dubious honor?”
“Ummm… five, I think.”
Qui-Gon’s eyes widened. “Five?” he asked incredulously. /Ah, youth/
“Alright,” he continued. “I want you to make up a list of possible fathers.”
“Um, okay, there’s both of my guards and the third floor butler. And the coachman. That’s all from the palace. Then there was this one guy, we met in a club. I don’t know his real name. He called himself Ekias. It wasn’t even on my planet.” She sniffled again. “My maids and I snuck off-world one night and we went to this club. He seemed really nice.”
Qui-Gon shifted his weight. A sudden feeling had come over him when she mentioned the name ‘Ekias’, but he didn’t know what it meant. It seemed… familiar. But he knew no one of that name. Shaking his head in confusion, he asked, “Did you use protection with any of these partners?”
She frowned, thoughtful. “I did use a prophylactic with each of the guards, because they’ve been with nearly everyone in the palace and I didn’t want to catch anything. I think I did with the butler. I’m not sure about the coachman.” She blushed, “I was a little wasted that night.”
“I see,” said Qui-Gon slowly. “And what about the man from the club? Ekias?”
She bit her lip. “No,” she said quietly. “No, I didn’t.”
“Well, young lady, you seem to be in quite a dilemma. You have narrowed the list somewhat to the coachman, Ekias, and possibly the butler.”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “I’m afraid my father doesn’t know about any of them. He still thinks that I am going to be… surprised on my wedding night.”
“I see,” said Qui-Gon again. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this dilemma, but he wasn’t having any luck. “Well, in that case, I suggest the first order of business is a trip to the medical bay. Have you had any sort of pre-natal examination?”
“No,” she said. “I just ran the first test two days ago.”
Qui-Gon blinked. “So you purposefully seduced my Padawan, with the hopes of making him believe you were carrying his child?” he asked, stupefied.
“I’m not proud of it,” she grumbled. “But yes, I did. I had to do *something* - and I didn’t know what to do.”
“I see,” he said icily. “I will escort you to the medical bay, Princess, but after that, you’re on your own. I have things to attend to.”
She rose, drying her eyes and smoothing her dress. “Of course, Master Jinn,” she said, once again royalty.
_*_*_
Having seen the Princess to the medical bay, Qui-Gon returned to the cabin he shared with his apprentice. He found him sitting on the floor, legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed in meditation.
“Padawan, I need to talk to you,” Qui-Gon said sharply.
Obi-Wan’s eyes opened and he leaned back against the bunk frame. “Yes?”
“It’s not yours.”
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and then sighed with relief. “Don’t scare me like that again, Master. Please.”
Qui-Gon chuckled softly. “My apologies. She’s actually been pregnant for nearly a month.”
“Well,” said Obi-Wan. “The Prince will just think he has a very premature baby.”
“Except for the fact that the consummation of their marriage will not be for another month, I’d be tempted to agree with you.”
“But Master, you said the wedding was going to be in a few days!” he protested.
“The ceremony will be in a few days,” corrected Qui-Gon. “The actual consummation will not occur for a month – at which point the Princess will be too far advanced for her to cover it with platitudes of prematurity.”
“What are we going to do about it?” he asked.
“We aren’t going to do anything. This is the Princess’s problem. She admitted to seducing you to try to convince you that it was your child. I will not be party to deception and I told her as much. I will not cover for her with either the Prince or her father.”
“Okay,” said Obi-Wan with a shrug. “So we drop her on Dris-Peth and get the hell out of there? Or we stick around, watch her marry a man whose baby she’s not carrying – a man she’s never met, I might add – and then watch the whole thing fall apart once the Prince finds out? Or, option number three, which I happen to like the most, we tell everyone everything, call off the wedding, and go home.”
Qui-Gon, despite the gravity of the situation, had to laugh at his Padawan’s penchant for dry humor.
“You’re forgetting, Obi-Wan, that the reason the Princess is marrying this Prince is because of the Accords of K’sif. They specify that, for peace to be assured, she must marry him on her twentieth birthday.”
“Or what?”
Qui-Gon frowned. “You know,” he said slowly. “I don’t know.”
Obi-Wan laughed. “There’s a first time for everything.”
“Brat,” snarled Qui-Gon, swatting a hand in Obi-Wan’s direction. The younger man scooted out of the way, still grinning.
“Which reminds me,” the Jedi Master continued. “We still haven’t discussed your punishment for your behavior last night.”
“Punishment?” Obi-Wan echoed warily. “But it wasn’t my baby.”
“That is not what you’re being punished for. I want you to write me a research paper on the dangers of over-indulging in alcohol. It will be no shorter than fifteen pages-”
“Fifteen!”
“Yes, now hush and let me finish,” Qui-Gon said testily. Obi-Wan’s eyes were opened wide in shock.
“There’s more?” he asked.
Qui-Gon ignored him and continued. “You will use no fewer than ten sources. It will be annotated properly.”
Obi-Wan swallowed. “Yes, Master.”
“I also want a second paper, same length, same number of sources, on the dangers of promiscuity. And I want them both finished before we return to Coruscant.”
/I don’t believe this/ Obi-Wan groaned inwardly.
Qui-Gon’s gaze softened slightly. “Obi-Wan, I warned you when you came back drunk the first time. Yet you allowed the Princess to get you drunk a second time. In the future, there might be more at stake than your rather questionable virtue. I want to make absolutely certain that you never do this again.”
Obi-Wan sighed heavily. He knew he’d disappointed his Master. Usually that knowledge was more painful than any punishment Qui-Gon could cook up for him.
_*_*_
Having been informed that her baby was healthy, the Princess returned to her quarters. She didn’t know what to do about this baby. Her hand trailed down and she unconsciously held it protectively over her abdomen. Her belly had not yet started to swell, but all too soon it would.
“What have I done?” she asked despairingly to the empty room. “What have I done?”
Part 7
The more the Princess thought about it, the more certain she became that Ekias – the man from the nightclub – was the father of the child. She had somewhat bleary recollections of using protection with her other partners. But the fact that she had allotted a father to her baby did nothing to allay her fears of how she was going to break the news to her future husband, Prince Sa’ike.
She hadn’t seen anything of the Jedi since Qui-Gon had escorted her to the medical bay. She figured that they were angry with her for her attempted deception. Which was partly true – at least for Qui-Gon; he had released his anger into the Force, but he still did not trust the Princess. Obi-Wan was so busy finding research on the ship’s database for his two papers that he had absolutely no free time at all.
They were scheduled to land on the planet Dris-Peth later that day. Princess Lorelei shifted uneasily. How was she going to explain to Prince Sa’ike – her fiancé – that she was pregnant?
_*_*_
Obi-Wan poured over the data-slate that he’d gotten from the ship’s database. He was supposed to be researching, but he was getting frustrated.
Qui-Gon watched his apprentice with faint amusement. While never petty, the Jedi Master did have a small vindictive streak.
“All right, Padawan,” he said, interrupting his research. “It’s nearly time to land. I suggest that you finish up and then get ready to disembark.”
“Yes, Master,” said Obi-Wan, rising. “Have you decided on a course of action regarding the Princess’s… condition?”
“No, I have not, Padawan. She got herself into her predicament. And she tried to drag you down with her. This has made me pointedly unsympathetic towards her.”
Once the luxury liner landed, the two Jedi pulled up their hoods and, having collected the Princess, strode firmly down the ramp. The Prince’s valet met them at the spaceport and he showed them to their rooms. The Jedi had a suite to themselves and the Princess had luxurious apartments in another wing so they did not see her after they arrived.
Obi-Wan spent a few minutes exploring their spacious suite before a curt word from his Master sent him scurrying back to his data-slate research.
“I am going to find the gardens and meditate for an hour or so, Padawan,” he began. “I suggest that you continuing your research and then dress for dinner. We shall all dine with the royal family this evening. I expect you to behave.”
“Yes, Master,” said Obi-Wan, swallowing hard. He desperately wanted to do _anything_ besides more research, but he nodded his acquiescence.
_*_*_
The Royal Herald announced their arrival as the Jedi flanked Princess Lorelei on the grand staircase leading into the dining hall.
Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, steadying the Princess on the steps. A misstep for anyone would be embarrassing, but for a pregnant woman it could prove disastrous.
Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, both Jedi bowed in unison to the assembled court. King Dris, father of Prince Sa’ike, nodded to each of the Jedi in turn. Reaching out, he took the Princess’s gloved hand in his own and tucked it into his arm. He led her around the room, presenting first his wife and then: “May I present my son, your future husband, Prince Sa’ike.”
The Princess gasped. Every head in the room turned to stare at her. “You!” she said breathlessly.
The Prince, for his part, was looking equally dumbfounded. “But, but, wha… how?”
And with that, the Princess fainted dead away.
“Well,” said Obi-Wan to no one in particular. “That went well.”
Part 8
Prince Sa’ike looked morosely at Obi-Wan. While Qui-Gon had caught the Princess as she fell, and escorted her to the medical bay, Obi-Wan was left to deal with the obviously shaken Prince.
“I don’t understand,” Sa’ike said for the fifteenth time.
“You obviously understand more than I do,” said Obi-Wan grumpily. The Prince had been repeating the same words and saying little else since the Princess had fainted about half an hour ago. “Perhaps,” he continued, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. “I would understand more if you would tell me more.”
Sa’ike sighed. “I’ve met her before,” he said softly; so softly Obi-Wan almost missed it.
“Before?” he asked, incredulous. “But I thought the last time you saw her she was three years old?”
“No, I mean I’ve met her recently. About a month ago. Only she didn’t call herself Lorelei, she said her name was Chal-lyn. Normally, I would just write the circumstance off to a case of mistaken identity. But the fact that she recognized me too…”
Obi-Wan’s head was swimming. Qui-Gon had relayed his conversation with Princess Lorelei to Obi-Wan. He had a very, very bad feeling about this. The Force swirled around him, whispering warnings that he could not yet comprehend. Swallowing hard, he asked, “Where did you meet her?”
“In a nightclub on Recallis 4. My friends and I were celebrating my birthday and we happened to be off-world for the annual Trade Summit. We went to this club called ‘The Trikan Arms’ and that’s where I met Chal-lyn – or rather, Her Royal Highness, Princess Lorelei.”
“And did you…” he left it hanging.
“Did I have sex with her? Yes, I did.”
//Master?// Obi-Wan called along their training bond. //Master, I need to talk with you.//
//What is it, Padawan?//
//Can you come down here? I think you need to have a word with the Prince. The situation has gotten a lot more complicated.//
_*_*_
In the infirmary, Qui-Gon was doing his damnedest mind-whammies to cover the fact that the Princess was a month pregnant. The nurses were wandering around, slightly dazed from the willpower of the Jedi Master. She was coming around slowly, but still looked pale and wan.
“Master Jinn, what’s wrong with her?” asked King Dris.
“She had a difficult and stressful journey, Your Majesty. She will be fine.”
“Yes, of course. She will be fine,” he repeated in a daze. Qui-Gon, somewhat to his surprise, had overestimated the amount of Force to use on the man. He’d left the King looking like a small animal that had just been hit on the head with a hammer. Shaking his head, the Jedi Master had just turned back to the Princess when he received his Padawan’s urgent signal.
_*_*_
“Master,” Obi-Wan began when Qui-Gon arrived at his side. “Prince Sa’ike was just telling me that he’d met Princess Lorelei at a nightclub on Recallis 4 when she was going by the name Chal-lyn. Apparently they got quite friendly.”
“So it would appear,” Qui-Gon said dryly. “It seems that there is quite a bit more to this saga than we realized when we set out.”
“Yes, Master,” said Obi-Wan. He took a deep breath before blurting, “Do you think he could be the father of the baby?”
“I’m certain of it.”
Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up. “Certain?” he asked in surprise.
“Well… fairly certain. The Princess gave me a list of names of possible fathers. The most likely candidate is a man named Ekias that she met in a nightclub. The name seemed somehow familiar to me, but I didn’t know why. Until we met Sa’ike, that is.”
Obi-Wan looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“The letters, Padawan.”
“Letters?” he asked, still not getting it.
“Spell them backwards,” Qui-Gon prompted gently.
“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Ekias is Sa’ike!”
Qui-Gon smiled indulgently. “Very good, Padawan.”
“So, her fiancée really is the father of her baby after all?”
“It is probable, Obi-Wan. But we cannot be absolutely certain until we run a bio-scan.”
_*_*_
“What!?!?!” screamed Prince Sa’ike. “What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean I’m the father?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” said Qui-Gon softly. “You are the father of Princess Lorelei’s baby.”
“But… but I only met her once…”
“Once is all it takes,” Qui-Gon said, smiling faintly.
The Jedi stepped back, bowing slightly as the King and Queen entered. “Son, you’re going to do some explaining!” the King bellowed, completely oblivious to the two Jedi.
“Jedi, exit stage left,” Obi-Wan murmured. Qui-Gon bit his lip to keep from laughing. The two of them slowly faded from the room, chuckling softly as they could hear the shrieks echoing down the hall.
“Well,” Obi-Wan said once they were safely out of earshot. “What now?”
“We go back to Coruscant,” said Qui-Gon. “I fancy this will take some sorting out, but our mission was to escort the Princess here safely.”
“But the wedding,” Obi-Wan protested. “Aren’t we supposed to witness the ceremony?”
“That was an option,” said Qui-Gon. “But I think they will get them married – and consummated – as soon as possible to avoid any… unpleasantness. Besides,” he continued. “I’m looking forward to reading those papers of yours.”
/Damn/
“Yes, Master.”
_*_*_
That night, as Obi-Wan climbed into his bunk on their transport back to Coruscant, he asked, “How do you think Lorelei and Sa’ike’s marriage will fare considering their rather wild pasts?”
Qui-Gon looked thoughtful for a moment before answering, “They deserve each other.”
Obi-Wan flashed his Master a grin. “Yes, Master.”
~_~_~ Epilogue
“Here you go, Master. Thirty pages in total.”
“Thank you, Obi-Wan.”
*skim* *skim* *skim*…… *select all….delete*
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