pronker

Part Thirty-Six

Anakin lost his momentum when Obi-Wan came.

It no longer mattered if he lasted or not; suddenly it mattered very much what Obi-Wan thought of him and he wanted to talk. He ached deeply, though, and some of that came through the Master/Padawan bond. Obi-Wan's breathing returned to normal. He sat trembling by Anakin's side, back pushed up against the headboard until Anakin put his arm around his shoulders to ease the strain. "Mmmuhh," Obi-Wan said. "Help you, wanna ... " He gestured in the general direction of Anakin's groin, where absolutely nothing was happening.

"I'm all right, Master."

"So'm I. More'n all right. Wanna --- Want to do something f'r you ... be fair to you ... "

"Later. I want to talk now."

Now he opens up. Something about the matters he's shielding? Obi-Wan wasn't ready for a long conversation. He'd negotiate out of one. "Anakin, shhhometimesh we talk too much, don't mean 'we' as in you and I, I mean 'we' as, as, in Jedi. Qui-Gon used t' say 'Live in the moment' and at this moment we need to resht." He tried to frown in a Masterly way, but couldn't. The frowny muscles were too relaxed.

Anakin attempted to recall the precise things that Qui-Gon had said. He remembered more the Force-presence of strength and a large quantity of kindness in a shoulder ride for a fatherless boy who had never had one. He demurred. "No, it's important that we talk about things. That's what lovers do." It's what Padmé always liked to do, sometimes to Anakin's dismay and general grumpiness. Talking after sex used up an entire lobe of his brain to keep track of the conversation. Padmé. Oh. He shunted her image away. "Master, please."

"All right. What we've done can't be ignored, after all. It'll stay out of the Mission Report draft, though, much less the final version."

"Was that humor, Master?"

"You said I'm not good at humor."

"You might be catching it from me."

"I'm not empathetic that way; Master Qui-Gon tried to teach me to love the Living Force, but I only ever managed to like it." Obi-Wan's lassitude was similar to that of one following a moving meditation. Meditation did not cause his heart to hammer, however, or his mind to drift to adventuresome thoughts regarding other acts with Anakin. Something more athletic, perhaps ...

" ... and it seems to me that the reason the Billaqori didn't react more to the vid is because ... Master, are you listening?"

" ... is because they are closer to the Living Force than we --- than I --- am and see such things more fatalistically; they need more solid reasons to join the Republic's cause than we gave them before, not emotional appeals. They are, ah, pragmatic about disgus-- putr--- visceral subjects. I'll come up with something tomorrow morning, Padawan. We've got a good start here, but I literally cannot see straight."

Anakin heaved a sigh. "That's talking about the mission, all well and good. Now I want to talk about us."

"As long as I can get horizontal."

Anakin startled Obi-Wan by standing and pulling Obi-Wan shakily up along with him. "What -- "

"I'm sleeping with you tonight. I don't want to crowd either of us. Let's do this." Anakin yanked off the double's mattress and the single's, pushed them together on the floor, and spread the bedding haphazardly on top. "There. I'm too tall for either of these two beds. At least now my feet won't lop off into thin air." He lay beside Obi-Wan, who had curled into a fetal ball, breathing deeply.

"Go on, Padawan. I'll last a little longer."

"We're closer. Just like I wanted us to be. I like that. Do you?"

"Yes. Next question."

Anakin wanted to ruffle Obi-Wan's bristles, but compromised by rolling onto his side and caressing Obi-Wan's uppermost arm. He poked the arm after a time. "Master. Don't fall asleep yet."

"'M not."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Obi-Wan qualified it in his head, as was his way. I love you for your grace, your gifts in the Force, your dedication to the Republic, your laugh ... He fell asleep, but not before thinking that his Padawan was not ready to hear those reasons yet.

The river hushed.

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Part Thirty-Seven

Squawk! Sq-sq-squawk! Screech! Rustle, flutter, flutter, ruffle, screech-SQUAWK!

"Housekeeping!" Knock-KnockKNOCK! --- blessed silence --- KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!

An obnoxious flock of psittacines seemed to have perched on the eaves outside their still-shuttered window this morning of their seventh day on Trow, and an equally obnoxious staffer from the inn commanded attention from the hallway. Obi-Wan checked his internal time sense --- late --- but the Chosen One remained asleep, so Obi-Wan padded to the door and stage-whispered, "Come back later, please!"

"But I'll lose me position, sir! It's ever so late and I have to serve downstairs in the diner what with the extra people in town, we're full up here in Nepsa, you know, and you're me last duty on this floor, have a heart, sir?" Yes, this girl could whine with the best of them. Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder at Anakin, who was getting to his feet, scratching idly. Anakin waved an 'all right' sign and headed into the 'fresher.

Obi-Wan said to the girl, "Hold on, hold on," wrapped a sheet about himself and opened the door. It was the server from their first night in Trow, the dippy one with the vacuous smile at Ry-Gaul's generous tip. She had another smile from the same vintage on her pleasant face. Obi-Wan replaced his own answering smile with a noncommittal straight face as he inquired, "Breakfast room service still available?"

"Of course, sir, anytime." She set down her replacement pile of bedding, towels, and toiletries on the single chair, took in the mattresses on the floor without expression and gathered up the soiled sheets and pillows. She cast about the room, then dived for the pillow in the corner, tossing it on top of the growing pile. "Shall you be requiring extra hand lotion, sir? No further charge."

Obi-Wan was in time to prevent a blush, using a Jedi technique to lessen heat exhaustion. "Not necessary, thank you."

Anakin emerged from the 'fresher with a clean hand towel draped in front and she entered with the replacement necessities, straightening up rapidly. She left the door open as she scrubbed with their used towels from yesterday morning, wiping down the small mirror, shower stall, and finally 'fresher seat. She replaced soaps and shower caps, and Obi-Wan, glancing up from where he sat next to Anakin on the mattresses, saw her grin saucily in his direction. She had an extra container of lotion ready in her hand, then spotted the pot of sunburn cream on the counter. She palmed the lotion economically. "I'll be right back with what we have left over from breakfast, plus fresh pillows. Shan't be a minute." She rolled everything dirty up, knotted it into an efficient bundle, and secured it with one hand on top of her head.

"Another day, another credit," Anakin said when Obi-Wan had been quiet for too long. Obi-Wan had been thinking about their shared past and about how, when he saw Anakin come out of the 'fresher just then in that skimpy towel, he would never again see his Padawan in an innocent light. It took some adjusting to the small stab of pain this caused. Obi-Wan knew that Anakin was content to simply use the word 'love' and have that cure whatever deeper issues arose. Analysis about glowglobes and force pikes was one thing, analysis about life-changing events was something else. He envied Anakin's mostly sunny nature for a moment, allowed the envy to burn off in the warming mid-morning sun, then answered the door with relief. It was their meal. Obi-Wan turned off his musings the same way he would turn off a tap and opened another discussion about their mission.

"I'll ask for a private session today, just the Cabinet and Strenghis. If it's granted, you and I will find out more about Murt and his 'vacation,' I think, and I know we'll discuss Strenghis' conscription plan. He won't be able to resist expounding on that. Maybe the force pike and glowrod question will be answered further, and I'd like to know where the Separatist contingent is hiding. Questions, comments?" Obi-Wan waved a Para-roll dripping with berry sauce in Anakin's direction.

"Yes. I want to know how you feel this morning, Master."

"Excellent, thanks. And you?"

"Embarrassed. The maid knew everything, I had only that tiny towel between her and me, and now I have to rush around gobbling food and hoping no one gets offended by my grimy self in its musty uniform. Plus I sense that you are regretting something. Please say that last night, all of it, won't give you second thoughts." Anakin didn't touch Obi-Wan. He knew from the 'fresher mirror that his hickey had turned to an ugly green, although his heart felt complete now. He reflected that Obi-Wan's complexity would most likely make him over-think and analyze what should be simple truths. Anakin wanted to finish this mission in the way that the Force had provided. This morning in the 'fresher he had pondered the way that the dream-purpose seemed outside the Force and how that was possible. He came to another epiphany, that the Force meant Jedi to take a break from its contemplation now and then, all the more to return to their studies refreshed. It was meant that he and Obi-Wan teach this to their Order, all in good time. He stopped there. He could leave the details of instruction up to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was good at that. Meanwhile, there was an unsettled Master to deal with. Anakin felt more capable than ever at dealing. Why, in the 'fresher this morning, he felt capable of overcoming his bladder problem completely. All in good time, however.

"No second thoughts about us, my Padawan. It's going to need a period of adjustment, that's all. I'm your teacher and now your l-lover, lover, that is, and it's strange, but not insurmountable." Obi-Wan licked up the last of the berry sauce from his pinky. "I feel dirty also, and we have just an hour before our session starts, not enough time to finish eating and go back to that laundry service I used yesterday. Why not shower together with our uniforms on, Force-enhanced jog for twenty minutes to dry them in this heat, and report directly to Congress? We ought to wind up decently clean that way. I'll stop us before we get too sweaty."

He's more chipper now. "Done." No time for anything else. I'll survive, though.

The river cleansed.

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Part Thirty-Eight

I release myself from your authority, my Master, temporarily and for your greater good. I'm my own man now, for a little while longer at least, Anakin thought, and men think for themselves. Anakin and Obi-Wan jogged side-by-side along the rutted road that ran mostly straight along Gitchy, relieved that the rare and expensive cobblestones extended to the docks and no further. The river flowed, its noise a constant low hissing with an occasional slap! of a fish reentering the water after leaping for a flitterbug. There were no others on the thoroughfare, due probably to the lateness of the hour --- I made Obi-Wan oversleep this morning --- so Anakin had the hunch that, in summer, Billaqori did most of their strenuous activities, such as travel, once the sun first made its appearance and finished their efforts early in the day. The Festival of Plenitude pilgrimages would be the exception. He turned away from Festival memories and concentrated on finding new approaches to persuading Strenghis to join their cause. Strenghis had the look of a no-nonsense type, someone who would not allow his sympathy for the Gungans' plight to turn into empathy. The vid, gruesome though it was, may indeed have been seen as manipulative and pushed him further into isolationism. He might reject any overtures now from either side. His elected position as protector of Trow was the primary thing in his life, Anakin decided, just as Qikal's devotion to the Mother was the foremost motivator in his life and devotion to the Force was the first thing Jedi thought of every morning. Now, as to benefits of the Republic's side ... clones. Yes, re-emphasize the ever-renewing clone armies, coming as they did from one father, but no mother ... no. Um. Spices? He could see the incomprehension on Strenghis' face, the sheer inability to find those food enhancers attractive. No. Improved opportunities for travel? Fewer than one per cent of Trow's population had traveled offplanet, he recalled from Mace's briefing. They didn't seem adventurous beyond their own world. Anakin wondered why they even wanted an improved spaceport facility. Anakin looked at the good rich riparian soil beneath his bounding feet. That, along with Gitchy and other rivers like her, provided for physical needs, the Mother provided for spiritual ones, and if it hadn't been for Grunbi's exposure of urban stagnation, Anakin could see no foothold to argue for change. It wasn't until they reached the end of the road at Kuki's friends' farm and turned to head back that an idea was born.

Obi-Wan effortlessly matched his shorter stride to Anakin's. For some reason, his mind felt clearer about their mission than ever and he was filled with enthusiasm for it. Yesterday's blunder was merely a misstep, a first impression upon Strenghis and his Congress that Obi-Wan could change with today's session. No more appealing to emotions. Strictly business. Defense and protection of Trow's sovereignty, these points were key. Looming over these issues was the appeal of the CIS, not lost on Obi-Wan, whose observations of the Republic Senate procedures through the years made him, too, think of ways to overcome government by committee. Derailing the CIS's appeal, pushing the Republic's appeal ... hmmm. A moving meditation seemed in order. Obi-Wan glanced at Gitchy, noted her rate of flow and their own speed and used those factors to regulate his internal time sense, setting it to arrive at the Villa with enough time for their breathing to return to normal. He pounded the trail, simply running, freeing his brain to be rather than do. An idea arose in his consciousness as he and Anakin did a joyous simultaneous flip with a twist at the halfway mark of their jog, reversing their direction neatly. He flashed a grin silently at his Padawan, seeing the same grin on Anakin's face.

After relaying his request to President Strenghis via a page, Obi-Wan waited with Anakin in the same courtyard as yesterday, standing next to the magnificent naynabo tree whose blossoms now were undifferentiated. Fifty Congressmembers lounged about near the Villa's entrance, nibbling on pastries, drinking juice or an urban watery version of Kopi tea that Anakin and Obi-Wan didn't much care for. Some politicians smiled, a few bowed, but most eyed them curiously and then went back to chewing or conversing quietly. Trow is as far away culturally from Coruscant as it is physically. Obi-Wan knew that at this point at a power breakfast on Coruscant, he and Anakin would have been gladhanded by beings smiling falsely and brightly, clapped on their backs, or clandestinely offered ryll as a bribe. Here on Trow, plain goodwill radiated from the group in the Force, a strong-minded independence combined with service to their world. He bowed in their general direction as did Anakin.

There was one clear ringing ping! of a handheld bell. "This way, Master Jedi." A different page who was Anakin's agemate stilled the bell's reverberations against her chest as she led the two into the Presidential Villa proper. The promenade circling the seating area had a passage heading off at right angles through an arched doorway that led to a hall with no doors except one at the far end. They clattered in their boots on the hardwood floor while the page walked silently in her sandals towards the door. Obi-Wan felt the need to brief Anakin on the new approach so that it wouldn't be a complete surprise. Perhaps, too, Anakin would bring insights to the new tack of the argument. His Padawan was maturing into a true partner. It wouldn't be long before the braid that he had used as a handle occasionally in irritation would lie in his palm as he looked deep into Anakin's eyes after he severed it. This morning as Anakin sat between his outstretched legs, he had finger-combed it three times before placing each bead in its proper strand and retying the strings. He finished with a kiss to the spiky tail end, making sure that Anakin didn't notice the sentimentality. There wasn't time to do anything else. I'll survive, though. The page motioned to them to have a seat before she opened the door with an etched key and left them to wait.

"The Billaqori have some security, Master," Anakin said as he settled on the richly carved bench and indicated the locked door. "They aren't as naive as we might think. I sense a strong will for self-preservation and a stout ability for battle."

"If they have weapons, that is, and if they do have weapons, they will be tempted to use them, and you know as well as I do how long they will last in pitched battle with droids."

The river mourned.

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