Title: The Chasing of Obi-Wan Kenobi
Author: Seven
Disclaimer: None of them are mine, they're all George's! This is all fun,
no money.
Rating: PG
Summary: Qui-Gon tries to rescue his padawan from the
clutches of a soon-to-be-married princess Thanks to: PG Wodehouse, the
master of
comedy, from whom I draw for this.
A soft knocking. "Master?"
Qui-Gon put down his datapad and slid off his bed, his bare feet sinking
into the
deep rug as he went to the door. The luxurious suite was darkened with
the fall of
night, but he had been unable to sleep.
As the door sped open, he saw his apprentice standing in the hallway, his
body
tensed and his blue eyes bloodshot. He glanced over his master's shoulder
furtively.
"She's not in here, is she?" he asked.
Qui-Gon's brow wrinkled in confusion. "No..."
Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief and slipped past him into the suite. "Do
you have any
water?" he asked faintly. "I think I ran five times around the palace trying
to get
away from her..."
"Trying to get away from whom?" Qui-Gon asked, reaching into the cooler
for a glass
of water.
"Princess Mirika!" Obi-Wan uttered the name as if it were a curse. "You
would not
BELIEVE how fast she is! I swear, I think she might have broken a rib..."
Qui-Gon frowned, thinking back to the slim, golden-haired princess at the
side of her
father, King Ajuka. The princess, whose wedding Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were
scheduled to supervise, had been noticeably giggling in Obi-Wan's direction,
but
Qui-Gon had had no idea she was so taken by his apprentice.
"Princess Mirika chased you?" the master asked slowly.
"Chased me, held me down, kissed me," Obi-Wan panted, running to the window
and
yanking the heavy, velvet drapes shut. "She's really, really pretty, Master—but
she's
strange. You would not BLIEVE some of the things she was saying to me on
the
balcony."
"Then she kissed you."
"Right."
Qui-Gon was having an increasing amount of difficulty keeping a straight
face. His
apprentice ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair, giving him a
wild look.
"That's not the worst of it," Obi-Wan finally said.
"What's the worst?"
"Prince Calian noticed the way she was looking at me," Obi-Wan grimaced,
playing
with a fold of his robe. "He had little veins popping out on his forehead."
"Jealous fiancee?" Qui-Gon asked, keeping his face deadpan.
"Very jealous. He mumbled something under his breath about sauteed Jedi,
and... um,
I sensed that he was thinking about attacking me with the cutlery." Obi-Wan
was
turning redder by the minute. "If he sees me, I think he'll kill me. If
I defeat him in
self-defense, it could trigger a diplomatic incident."
Qui-Gon sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Obi-Wan, why don't we switch rooms
tonight?
The wedding is the day after tomorrow, and then we can leave for Coruscant."
Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief, looking pathetically grateful. "Thank you, Master."
As Qui-Gon gathered his few possessions strewn around the suite, he began
to
think about how to keep Obi-Wan out of range of the princess...
****
The planets of the Rubari star system had been at war for almost a century.
After
months of negotiations with the Republic—under another Jedi Master who
had had a
nervous breakdown shortly after peace was reached—the Ridia and the Jorellians
were marrying the heirs of their respective worlds.
It was not a good idea, Qui-Gon thought drearily as he reread the mission
report
from Master Dos-Di-Mal, written right before she had snapped and sent an
obscene
message to Master Yoda. Princess Mirika of the Ridia was known for her
flightiness
and—as Obi-Wan had put it—her strangeness. Prince Calian of the Jorellians
was
likewise known for his temper and lack of self-control.
Maybe I should send Obi-Wan home, Qui-Gon mused. Nothing good can come
from
confining him in close quarters with the princess and prince.
Resolved to send Obi-Wan off in the morning, Qui-Gon set down the mission
report
and slid under the bedcovers.
****
BAM BAM BAM!
Qui-Gon jolted awake, amidst a tangle of bedsheets, at the sound of fists
hammering
on his door. "Who is it?" he shouted, pulling on a pair of pants as he
rose and ran to
the door.
The doors opened to reveal the ornately-dressed form of a very irate young
prince.
One of the things that Qui-Gon had first noticed about Prince Calian was
that he was
unusually large and muscular. Obi-Wan had unfavorably compared him to a
Kamsian
gorilla, and though Qui-Gon had reprimanded him for the comment, he had
to admit it
was accurate.
He looked surprised at finding Qui-Gon in Obi-Wan's suite, but quickly
regained his
composure. "Where's that apprentice of yours?" he snarled.
Qui-Gon sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know, why?"
"Because if he doesn't stop ogling Mirika, I am going to tear him apart!"
"Why?" Qui-Gon asked, sinking onto a brocaded couch. Calian began to pace
across
the suite, strangling thin air between his fingers.
"Because that little worm wants her for himself!" Calian snapped. "If you
see him,
warn him. Otherwise..."
The younger man stormed out the door, leaving a very tired Jedi Master
in his
wake.
****
Obi-Wan glanced into the sparkling dinner hall, where the purple-clad figure
of King
Ajuka was standing, ordering the servants around. They carried light tables
and
chairs, preparing for the wedding feast.
He grimaced, looking down the hall furtively for Calian or Mirika. No sign
of either. He
began to tiptoe across the high archway...
"Ah, Kenobi!"
He almost sobbed in frustration at the kindly king's voice. The white-bearded
old
man walked over to him, smiling amiably, and put a ring-covered hand on
his
shoulder. "You're having a good time, Kenobi?" he asked warmly.
Obi-Wan bobbed his head, praying that Mirika didn't hear her father's booming
comments.
The old man shook his head. "My daughter's taken quite a fancy to you,"
King Ajuka
continued dreamily. "Quite shy around most young men..."
Shy? Obi-Wan almost fell over and choked at the description.
"Ah, but maybe it's you being a Jedi," Ajuka finished with a wide grin.
Then he
glanced over Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Ah, here she comes now!"
Obi-Wan made a noise similar to "glurk" as he started away from the old
king, his
heart dancing up in his throat.
"Obi-Wan!" High, fluting voice, and the patter of extremely flimsy shoes.
Obi-Wan
hurriedly changed his look of panic to one of serenity, however forced
the serenity
might be.
The Princess Mirika pranced up beside him, her long golden hair aswirl
around a
face, that housed the biggest pair of blue eyes Obi-Wan had ever seen in
a
humanoid. "I've been looking all over for you," she said, linking one long
arm around
his.
The king walked back the dining hall with a satisfied smile, as the princess
began
gently but firmly dragging Obi-Wan toward the huge lawn outside the palace.
"The
starlight lilies are so lovely right now," she said shyly. "I say hello
to them every
morning. Don't you just adore flowers, Obi-Wan?"
He heard himself mutter a feeble assent, and she began to skip alongside him.
Help, he prayed, looking up at the sky. Anything, anything to distract her...
"KENOBI!" Prince Calian appeared between a pair of trees, looking positively
murderous....
****
"KENOBI!"
At the bellow, comparable to an exploding ship, Obi-Wan froze. The princess's
arm
was still twined around his, suddenly seeming like a steel band. I'm dead,
he thought
frantically. I can't hit him or the treaty with the Republic will go down
the tubes...
"Hello," Mirika said with a white smile, batting her eyes at her fiancee.
Obi-Wan unsuccessfully tried to extricate his hand from Mirika's. "Uh,
your highness,
let me explain-"
Prince Calian's broad face was bright red, almost exactly the color of
his beaded
vest. His thick arms were bulging as he flexed his fingers, a homicidal
gleam entering
his eyes. "I am going to tear you apart," he said in a remarkably serene
voice. "You
sneaking, sniveling, crawling, spying, cheating worm."
Obi-Wan flushed a little and started to reply. Then Calian lunged forward.
Caution gave way to self-preservation. Obi-Wan tore his hand from Mirika's
and
dodged the huge hands. As Calian turned back to the attack with a roar,
Obi-Wan
seized his arm and flipped him over his head. A muscle twanged in his side
with the
effort, but it paid off.
There was a thunderous crash and a bloodcurdling howl of fury. Obi-Wan
winced and
considered not turning around, but glanced over his shoulder.
The prince was tangled up in a mass of prickly flowering plants, his clothing
and skin
torn by the huge thorns. He continued roaring and screaming, thrashing
around, but
mercifully ignored Obi-Wan.
He glanced at Mirika. Her hands were clasped girlishly, and she was looking
at him in
a chillingly adoring manner. He froze inwardly, suddenly more terrified
than he had
been with Calian's sudden vicious attack.
"Uh," he stammered, rubbing at his sore side for a moment. "You should...
umm... get
someone to look after him. I have to go."
Mirika nodded and batted her eyes a little. "Of course, darling," she fluttered.
He
took his opportunity and ran for it, back into the pristine halls of the
palace.
As Obi-Wan sprinted to his suite, his only thought was, "Master Qui-Gon's
going to
have a fit..."
****
Contrary to Obi-Wan's expectations, Qui-Gon did not have a fit. He did
not yell, or
pace, or even rise out of his chair. He simply stared at his padawan, his
ashen face
taking on a distinctly green tinge, before he closed his eyes and covered
his face
with his hands.
"Obi-Wan," he said faintly.
"Yes, Master?"
"Did I, or did I not, inform you that getting into any kind of fight with
the prince could
be detrimental to our very purpose here?"
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon finally put down his hands, with an air of great patience. "So
why did you
fight?"
Obi-Wan wriggled a little, shuffling his booted feet. "He attacked me."
"Why?"
An expression of nausea crossed Obi-Wan's features for a moment. "Because
the
princess caught me leaving the palace... and she started taking me on a
tour of the
gardens. I couldn't help going... and when Calian saw me..." Obi-Wan clapped
his
hands together with a loud SLAP noise. "It was like trying to wade through
a
tsunami."
Qui-Gon's bearded chin was resting on the heel of his hand. Obi-Wan had
never seen
him look so completely ILL before. "Well-"
There was a loud knocking at the door, and the white head of King Ajuka
appeared
in the doorway. "Sorry... am I interrupting?" he asked slowly.
Obi-Wan shook his head, biting hard on his knuckle to keep back a shriek
of terrified
anticipation. Qui-Gon was looking dully at the king with the air of a martyr.
The king came in, wringing his hands. "Look, I know you two and the other
Jedi
worked hard on this treaty. But... um, it seems that my daughter and her
fiance... no
longer have an understanding."
For a moment, Qui-Gon swayed on his chair. Then he gripped the desk as
the king
continued, looking at Obi-Wan skeptically. "Err... I never really thought
of a Jedi as
my daughter's type," he said haltingly. "But if she's certain and you're
certain... I
hope you'll be very happy together."
Obi-Wan Kenobi came closer to fainting than he ever had in his life.
****
"I'm dead."
"Padawan, calm down."
"I feel like a man who's just been informed that his last meal was
cancelled."
Obi-Wan was pacing across the long room, raking his fingers over his
short brown hair. His blue eyes had a slightly wild look to them, as if
his brand-new engagement were searing away his sanity.
Qui-Gon rubbed his forehead, wishing he could get rid of the feeling of
impending doom. "There must be a way out of this engagement."
"What way?" Obi-Wan asked pitifully, sinking into a chair opposite his
master.
Qui-Gon mulled over it for a moment, then sighed dejectedly. "I really
don't know, Obi-Wan. But I'm sure some opportunity will present itself."
Obi-Wan started to nod, then stiffened. The same hunted-animal
expression crossed his face. "Calian!"
"What?"
Obi-Wan launched himself out of his chair and over to the window. "He's
going to kill me! When he finds out I'm engaged to the princess, he'll
have my insides as my outsides!"
Qui-Gon sighed deeply and leaned his head on his hand. "He's a prince, Obi-Wan."
"Under the silks, he has the heart of a serial killer!"
"True, but how would it look if he gutted a Jedi Knight?" Qui-Gon
swiftly parried.
Obi-Wan's face spasmed. "It would look like he had gutted a Jedi Knight
who had been fooling around with his fiancee and then got engaged to her."
"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon could feel his patience stretching to the breaking
point. He plucked a mint from a small ceramic bowl and popped it into
his mouth. I need the soothing, he thought mournfully. "I'm going to
visit the king, to see if we can't straighten out this mess."
"Suppose I feigned illness and pretended to die," Obi-Wan rambled in an
odd voice. "I suppose we'd
need a dead body then..."
Qui-Gon left quickly, before his padawan could speak to him further.
****
The king was sitting atop his huge golden throne, looking like a man
precariously perched on a cliffside. His lined face looked tired, as he
watched the servants hanging up white banners and bunches of gold-tinted
flowers, in preparation for the wedding.
Qui-Gon glanced around the gleaming throne room, where the ceremony
would take place. Then he slowly approached the king and bowed deeply.
"Sire."
The king's weary face broke into a smile. "Master Jedi, I can't tell you
how grateful I am!"
"For what?"
The old man nodded his crowned head. "I've had time to consider my
daughter's engagement, and I'm convinced that it's all for the best."
"Oh?" Qui-Gon had the sudden impression that spiders were dancing along
his spine.
King Ajuka pursed his lips thoughtfully. He took the golden crown from
his white head and polished it absently with his sleeve. "Your
apprentice seems to be a steady, reliable sort of boy. Good outlook,
that's what I respect. Is it being a Jedi that makes you like that?"
"No, there are some very reckless Jedi," Qui-Gon said faintly.
"Depends on the person, eh?"
"Yes..."
"Splendid." The king beamed, plopping his crown back onto his head and
sending locks of pale hair sticking out in all directions like a
bizarre-looking flower. "Needs it deep-rooted, not just lessons."
"But what about Prince Calian?" Qui-Gon interjected. "What about the
peace accords?"
King Ajuka frowned. "Peace accords are a problem. We'll have to work
something else out--perhaps a territory exchange, colonies and all that?"
"Marriage seems like a better alternative, Sire."
"Ah, well. Some things can't be helped." The king glanced around, then
leaned closer and spoke in a whisper. "I like your apprentice better
than that Calian. Oh, the boy's royalty, but he has the temper of a fire-snake."
"I can't deny it," Qui-Gon admitted.
"Well, I want my daughter with someone who'll take good care of her."
The king plucked off his crown and began polishing it again. Qui-Gon saw
that there was a worn spot on his robe, where he had evidently indulged
his habit before. "Not a firebrand--just a nice, steady boy. Now, what
was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
Qui-Gon's plans lay in shambles on the floor. He had intended to appeal
to the king's apparent discomfort about his daughter marrying a Jedi.
Now... now he seemed to view Obi-Wan as the lesser of two evils.
"It's no longer relevent, Sire," he said quietly. King Ajuka frowned a
little, dropped his crown back onto his head, and waved the Jedi away.
Qui-Gon bowed again and left the room.
I need time to think, he thought as he left.
****
Now that the ultimate horror had grasped Obi-Wan by the throat, he saw
no reason to confine himself to his room. He wandered cautiously around
the passages, reassuring himself that it was a big palace and his
chances of running into Calian were slim, if he was careful.
But when a tall, gray, gaunt figure appeared like a ghost in one of the
sunny passages, he saw no way to escape.
"Queen Alkri," he said with a forced smile. "How are you?"
The queen looked down her pointed nose, beady black eyes narrowing. "I
am well, young Jedi."
She didn't call me by my name, Obi-Wan thought. That can't be good. He
forced a chipper attitude, despite the growing sense of dread he felt
through the Force. "You were heading to the gardens?" he asked.
"No," Queen Alkri said. She began to circle Obi-Wan like a shark, her
stiff gown sweeping the floor. "I came to see you, Jedi Kenobi."
What a fool I was, Obi-Wan thought. I thought it couldn't get worse.
"For what?" he asked in a strained voice.
"It's about my daughter," she rasped in her grating voice. "As you
undoubtedly know, my daughter is a highly sensitive and caring young woman."
Obi-Wan tried not to choke. "Yes," he gurgled. "Yes... very sensitive...
very very caring!"
"Be quiet!" Queen Alkri snapped, halting for a moment, then starting to
circle again. "I simply wanted to make it clear that if there are any
attempts to offend her... any at all... you shall regret it, Jedi or no
Jedi. Understood?"
Obi-Wan felt a sudden stab of misery as the queen's gimlet eyes bored
into his skull. "Yes, ma'am," he wheezed, feeling as if someone had
jammed a ball down his throat.
Her thin lip curled a little in disdain. "Good," she growled, then swept
away down the corridor, leaving a terrified Jedi apprentice in her wake.
****
Qui-Gon jerked in his seat as Obi-Wan burst into his room with a clatter
of boots and wooden doors, his eyes and clothing wild. "Master, we have
another problem," he said faintly.
****
"The queen threatened you, hmm?" Qui-Gon asked quietly.
Obi-Wan was pacing across the room again, his eyes haunted. "Master,
you know those poisonous snakes at the zoos in Coruscant? Do you
remember how they look at people?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, that's how she was looking at me. Like a snake waiting to
pounce on a helpless little dustmouse. And I'm the tasty dustmouse..."
"Calm DOWN, padawan," Qui-Gon ordered. Obi-Wan quickly seated himself
on the floor. "Now, I'm going to go talk to Princess Mirika and see
if I can't straighten this out."
"She's not going to listen," Obi-Wan warbled in an odd voice. "She
won't listen to you."
"She'll listen," Qui-Gon replied, stepping out of the room and
shutting the door before his padawan could protest again.
****
The Princess Mirika was in her private rooms, attended by a dozen
fluttering maids. She was in front of a mirror, surveying a filmy
dinner gown covered with golden birds.
The wide-eyed maid bowed as Qui-Gon knocked and slipped in. "Master
Qui-Gon Jinn to see you, highness," she whispered.
Mirika turned with a wide smile. "Master Jinn!" she said brightly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."
Qui-Gon smiled crookedly. "Princess, I wanted to warn you about
this... engagement of yours."
"Warn me about what?"
"Obi-Wan has been raised as a Jedi, and the life of a Jedi is full of
hardship, of danger and possible death. It's no life for a princess."
"Of course not," Mirika said brightly. "That's why he'll be living
here, in the lap of luxury."
"What?" Qui-Gon blinked. "Princess, you realize that living this kind
of life... is not Obi-Wan's way."
"Oh well, he'll have to get used to it," the princess replied. She
pulled a long golden ribbon from somewhere in her dress and held
it
up to her blond head. "What do you think of this?"
"Princess," Qui-Gon tried again, "Obi-Wan would not be happy living like this."
"Oh, he'll be happy once he gets used to it," Mirika replied. "But
what about my ribbon? What do you think?"
"The Council will undoubtedly require an explanation."
"Tell them that he's in good hands and he's married now. What about
the ribbon?"
Qui-Gon heard himself murmuring agreement with the ribbon, as his
mind raced. Better to be clean and blunt about it, he thought.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi is not getting married, highness."
"Of course he is," Mirika smiled.
Obi-Wan wasn't kidding, Qui-Gon thought dryly. She really doesn't listen.
****
Obi-Wan woke up with a jolt, as something hammered against the door.
"KENOBI!" a voice roared. "KENOBI, GET OUT HERE!"
Obi-Wan launched himself toward the window, fumbling with the latch
as the wood of the door began to strain. "No Kenobi in here!" he
called back in what he hoped was a good imitation of a girl's voice.
"Get out, you mewling little milksop!" replied Calian in a bellow.
Obi-Wan gathered the Force around himself, and slowly lowered himself
down to the ground. A servant girl was standing nearby, unusually
small with bright black eyes and hair.
There was a crunching noise, and Obi-Wan dove into some nearby
shrubbery. "Miss!" he whispered desperately.
The girl drew closer, then froze as Calian's massive frame filled the
window. "Is that cowardly Jedi down there!" he shouted.
"No!" the girl replied in a shout. "No one else!"
Obi-Wan held his breath as Calian apparently sized her up. Then she
dropped down and poked him through the branches. "He's gone."
Obi-Wan crept out, brushing leaves from his hair. "Thanks," he
panted. "Thanks a lot. I'm Obi-Wan."
"Talshi," the girl replied with a grin. "Bye."
As she ran off around the palace, Obi-Wan shot back to the window,
wincing at the disorder of the room inside, where tapestries and
sheets were thrown across the furniture.
He dropped down onto a sofa, counting the minutes until his master returned.
****
Qui-Gon collapsed heavily into a chair, looking at his padawan
sprawled stomach-down on his sofa. The boy had hardly moved since he
came in.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon rubbed his eyes, sighing softly. "I wasn't successful. The
wedding is still scheduled."
"EeeeeeeeeeMURF!" Obi-Wan's whimper was lost in the embroidered
cushions. "Pass me a knife, please."
"No."
"Mrf...."
"Now, padawan, there must be a way to call off the wedding."
"How?"
The older Jedi frowned and began to toy with a nearby potted plant,
tearing the "I don't know yet, but I'm thinking. If we can somehow
divert the princess's attentions away from you, back to the prince-"
"Make her not like me anymore?"
"I thought you wanted that."
"I do. And I'd like to retain my face in its usual shape."
"Well, there's no problem, then." Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair
and began to chew on a nearby sweetmeat. "Just how do we accomplish
it?"
"Accomplish what?" Obi-Wan sat up, running a hand through his hair.
"Obi-Wan, you can't have forgotten all that we've been talking about,
can you?" Qui-Gon sighed.
Obi-Wan blinked. "You mean turning the princess's attentions back to
Calian? Well... um, how do we do that? As far as she's concerned,
he's yesterday's news. And as far as he's concerned. I'm tomorrow's
pancakes."
"Will you kindly stop saying things like that, padawan?"
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan slumped back on the sofa and stared up at the
ceiling. "It's just hard to shake a feeling of impending death and
doom."
Qui-Gon ignored the last statement and frowned off into space. "The
princess considers you to be better than Calian, correct."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon rose from his chair and began to pace across the room. "Then
somehow we need to make you look worse than Calian... make him look
braver." His blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Perhaps if you and she
were trapped somewhere... a crisis but not actually dangerous. A
stalled lift ought to be sufficient..."
"Oh no," Obi-Wan whispered, his face paling.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon said patiently. "You do want to get out of this
entanglement?"
"Yes..."
"Then put up with the girl's presence for an hour, maybe two." Qui-Gon smiled.
****
"Obi-Wan!"
The young Jedi nearly leaped into the air as the Princess Mirika
floated down beside him, dressed in a fur-lined robe that seemed to
have been so completely embroidered that little of the original
fabric remained.
She quickly had him in her grasp, and he tried to chane his grimace
into a smile. "Mirika, I... I was just looking for you!" he stammered.
"Oh, really?" She smiled up at him and clung closer to his arm, then
drew back. "Oh..."
"What?" Obi-Wan almost squeaked.
Mirika prodded his arm with a look of distaste. "These Jedi
clothes... they're so plain and drab. My father will have to get you
something better."
When this sun goes nova, Obi-Wan thought darkly. Ignoring his
feelings of outrage, he quickly pointed down the long marble hallway.
"I want to show you something."
Mirika stared up at him with wide eyes. "Is it a SURPRISE?"
"You could say that," Obi-Wan responded weakly. "It's on the upper levels."
Mirika giggled behind her hand, pattering beside Obi-Wan as he headed
toward the elevator. "Should I close my eyes?" she whispered.
"That might be a good idea," Obi-Wan replied as the doors slid shut.
The elevator began to whizz upwards, but Obi-Wan reached out with the
force and tangled two of the cables together. The elevator ground to
a halt with a screeching sound.
Mirika squealed and clung to his arm, and Obi-Wan felt his hand
beginning to go numb. "Don't worry," he said quickly. "Just a
malfunction."
"Are you sure?" Mirika whispered. "What if we fall?"
"Oh, that won't happen," Obi-Wan said breezily. "We'll just wait for a rescue."
****
The Prince Calian was on a balcony, overlooking the wedding
preparations with the eyes of a hungry wolf.
Qui-Gon carefully cleared his throat. "Pardon me."
Calian turned slowly, glowering at the taller Jedi. "What do you want?"
"There seems to have been a lift malfunction and I need help to
correct it," Qui-Gon said solemnly. "The princess is trapped between
the upper levels... if the lift drops, then-"
"The PRINCESS?" roared Calian, leaping to his feet and rushing past Qui-Gon.
****
An hour had passed, and Obi-Wan's legs were starting to cramp with
the constant standing. Mirika was leaning against his shoulder,
staring around with wide, frightened eyes.
Suddenly the lift jerked upwards, and the doors slid open to reveal
Prince Calian.
Obi-Wan bounded upward, jolting Mirika back to the present. Her eyes
hardened as she saw Calian, disheveled and furiously eyeing her
fiancee. She flounced past the prince, carefully not looking at him.
"Come on, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan scooted past Calian, seeing Qui-Gon standing behind him. The
Jedi Master looked apologetic, while Calian was turning a bright red.
I wonder if space pirates would take on an engaged Jedi, Obi-Wan
thought wildly.
****
"Padawan!"
The mound of blankets moaned and shifted as Qui-Gon marched into
Obi-Wan's suite, carring a gold-embroidered maroon suit on his arm.
"Wake up, padawan."
"Is it execution day?" Obi-Wan whispered.
"Yes, it is."
"Do you have any ideas yet?"
"Yes..." Qui-Gon sat down heavily beside the lump of fabric.
"What?" The covers crept away to reveal a fearful pair of blue eyes.
"What is it?"
Qui-Gon sighed. "I don't want to tell you yet, padawan, just in case
it doesn't work."
"You're becoming cynical, Master."
"Yes, I am. Now get out of bed and face it like a man." Qui-Gon
slapped the mound of blankets, where he estimated Obi-Wan's back
would be.
Obi-Wan crept out of the blankets, clad in a nightshirt, and eyed the
wedding suit with distaste. "I'm not old enough to be a man. Anyway,
can't you give me a hint?"
Qui-Gon frowned and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "All
right... what we did before was attempt to make Calian look better to
Mirika. What we need to do is... make you look distasteful in
comparison to Calian."
"What?"
His master only smiled slightly and rose, leaving Obi-Wan to dress.
****
The king, the icy-eyed queen, and the red-faced Calian were all
assembled at the end of the long, flower-decorated hall, before a
very ancient, gray-clad priest of the planet.
Obi-Wan squirmed as the Princess Mirika, clad in a flowing silver
dress with flowers in her golden hair, eyed him gooily as she walked
down the rows of staring nobles, chattering as their princess
approached her groom. All that his numbed brain could think of was
how much the collar itched.
Calian had been eyeing him menacingly throughout the preparations for
the wedding, and Obi-Wan wished that his master were there to
body-tackle the prince if the occasion arose.
The things we do for diplomacy, he thought wildly as Mirika stepped
next to him...
"STOP!"
Obi-Wan almost tumbled off the dais as Qui-Gon's deep voice boomed
through the hall, echoing over the stunned wedding guests. Everyone
turned to see the large Jedi standing in the doorway.
Qui-Gon smiled slightly. "I apologize," he murmured. "But, your
highness, I'm afraid that my padawan cannot be married to the
Princess Mirika."
The queen stared at Obi-Wan with a cobra's eye. The king appeared to
be completely confused. "Eh? Why's that?" He pulled off his crown and
began to rub it against his sleeve.
Qui-Gon stepped back dramatically, revealing the dark-haired young
servant that had helped Obi-Wan the day before. He searched for her
name, and remembered that it was.. Tashi? No... Tolshoi?
"This is Talshi," Qui-Gon announced. "Talshi?"
The girl stepped into the midst of the wedding guests. Obi-Wan saw
for the first time that her eyes were red and swollen, and her voice
was trembling. "I only just heard that Obi-Wan was going to marry the
princess," she quavered. "Because... we got married just last week!"
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Obi-Wan, jaw hanging
open, turned to see Mirika burst into tears, babbling, "Oh, Obi-Wan!"
He had no time to see Calian's fist coming.
****
The transport sped away from the planet...
Qui-Gon pulled the soaked cloth from the chilled bacta and wrung it,
glancing glumly over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, padawan. If I had
known that he was going to attack you, I would have been standing
closer."
"Oh, thad's ogay, master."
"Does it hurt?"
"No, my faze has gone numb. Nod as much as marryig Mirika." There was
a rustle of cloth. "If I'b lucky, I'll ged a node like yours."
"Ha ha."
"Thad was a complimed. But how did you cub ub with id?"
Qui-Gon folded the cloth carefully, wincing as some bacta drizzled
down his arm. "Very simple. Attempting to marry one woman while
married to another is one of the greatest crimes in their society,
but as a Jedi Knight, they couldn't execute you."
"Thag the Force."
"So, I simply had that girl, Talshi, who thinks that you are nice in
a rather pathetic way, rub some Tabali onions in her eyes and pretend
that she was married to you, thus breaking up the marriage. Now,
Calian and Mirika are married and the treaty has been signed, and
we're going back to Coruscant."
"Brilliand, Master."
"Thank you, padawan." Qui-Gon turned with a wince to Obi-Wan. The
young man was propped up on a medical bay cot, his left arm in a
sling and his face swollen and bruised. "You're certain it doesn't
hurt?"
"No, Master," Obi-Wan replied in a thick voice. "A few days of bagda
packs and I'll be almozt as good as new. Bud... can you promise me
one thig?"
"Yes, Padawan?"
"Can there be no princesses on the negst mission?"
"None at all."
A sniffle. "Thag you, master."
THE END
