Title: Threads
* * * * * “Master Blood?” Jade Blood turned and smiled softly at the gentle greeting. “Sorry. I was admiring the view. Not that there is much to be said for it.” She glanced back over her shoulder toward the bustling, Coruscant traffic. She’d grown accustomed to it, and watching what would seem like chaos to anyone else tended to quiet her mind. “It is just a bunch of buildings and speeders after all.” “It isn’t exactly the natural beauty I’m used to, but it serves its purpose.” Senator Padme Amidala smiled, showing her teeth. “I’m glad to finally spend more than a few, fleeting moments in your presence. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.” Jade laughed a bit and shook her head. “You needn’t lie,” she said. “I know what most of my fellow Jedi think of me. I lack decorum, I have no control, and I give them all a bad name.” “Anakin and Obi-Wan both think very highly of you,” Padme countered. “Well, that is a different matter altogether,” Jade smirked. “Those two are an even bigger handful than me, and that’s no small feat.” Padme laughed aloud at this, then shook her head with an expression that seemed to indicate that Jade was a naughty girl. “And they were right about your wit.” Jade ducked her head at this. “I was afraid you’d find it crude…” “When you’ve spent as much time with Anakin Skywalker as I have, you learn to keep on your toes,” Padme said. She turned saucily and strode back into her apartment. Jade stayed on the balcony a moment longer, calculating in her mind exactly what that meant before trailing after the senator. She felt positively dowdy in her Jedi robes, even though the maroon material was light and fit against her flatteringly. Compared to Padme’s cerulean gown, it was like wearing a potato sack. The sleeves belled out at the wrists, and material flowed from her waist like a waterfall. Jade admired the other’s dress for a moment and silently wished she had one of her own, perhaps in a light pink. “We’ve always met in passing and during unfortunate circumstances,” Padme noted, seating herself on a beige sofa. “I wish I could turn back time…” “Oh, if I had that power, I’d change a lot more than failed first impressions,” Jade sighed. She took the sofa across from the senator and leaned back as she crossed her legs. Padme’s droid, a protocol unit named C3PO, entered with drinks, and Jade snatched one up thankfully. “And our current circumstances are not very different than the usual.” “Very true,” Padme nodded, then waved her drink away casually. “How was Anakin in receiving the news?” “He’s hardly ever civil, so I think you can guess,” Jade said then tipped her head back for a quick swig of her drink. She coughed lightly and put the empty glass down on the table that sat between them. “I explained to him that he was needed in the Outer Rim and that I was perfectly capable of protecting you myself. The threat is no longer directly on the Senate. The war has expanded far beyond that, and the real fight is out there. That seemed to appease him, but only after he made me swear my life to guarding yours. As if it needed to be said.” “This war has changed him,” she said, sounding more grave than she’d intended to. “Though I try not to dwell on that.” “It’s changed us all,” Jade said. “I’m a lot colder than I used to be, and I wish it wasn’t so. Even Ob— Master Kenobi is distant.” “I remember that you came to his master’s funeral on Naboo,” she said, nodding. “You two seem very close.” Jade shifted slightly and nodded, avoiding eye contact suddenly. “We’ve known each other a long time.” “I’ve always felt he needed a friend,” Padme said. “He seems lonely, but the sort of lonely that is hidden very deep.” Jade squinted at her. “Does he say that he is lonely?” “I’ve never spoken with him about it, no,” Padme admitted. “Then how would you know?” Jade asked, her voice derisive. “When you work with people long enough, you begin to read them,” Padme explained, ignoring Jade’s tone though her own was becoming passionate. “Even the Jedi with their guarded emotions can be read like a book if you know how. It’s all a matter of prying the cover open and finding the right pages and passages. Master Kenobi has always appeared wanting for something that he would never divulge. I wouldn’t dare pry out of respect for his privacy, but I won’t pretend I haven’t wondered.” Jade winced minutely and did her best to bury the look. “He and I… speak at length about anything and everything. I never thought he seemed lonely.” “Perhaps ‘lonely’ is not the word for it,” Padme said thoughtfully. “It’s more a sense I get that he is deprived. That there is something he wants that is just out of reach. I can’t describe it. In quiet moments he always seems to be looking off elsewhere, into another world where nothing is as it is in ours.” Jade began to brighten as she thought of what fantasies he must be entertaining that would give him such an expression. “Qui-Gon did always chide him about the Living Force.” “I’m sorry?” Padme laughed with confusion. “The Living Force is what we feel right now, in this moment,” Jade said, sitting forward and placing her elbow on her crossed knee. “The life I feel in you, the Force’s ebb and flow through every object in this room… Obi-Wan was always more interested in what was to come. The future. As a padawan, he had trouble concentrating sometimes because of it. He had to discipline himself to be in the moment, which is part of why he became such an uptight stick-in-the-mud.” Padme snorted, then abruptly covered her mouth. “I apologize…” “It’s funny because it’s true,” Jade chuckled. “At any rate, that’s where the distant look comes from. He’s wandering to the future.” “I see,” Padme nodded. “Yet he never speaks of what he sees.” “The future is not a set thing,” Jade replied. “It’s always moving, ever changing. Prophetic visions are a useful tool, but they can be deceiving. There’s no point in dooming yourself to the future when it is always uncertain. Very few Jedi are able to harness truthful visions with any sort of clarity.” “And you?” Padme asked, causing Jade to quirk an eyebrow. “Where does your strength lie?” “Emotion,” Jade said. “Time doesn’t rule me at all. Past, present, future… I see the same faces, triumphs, and mistakes pass through every generation. The same conflicts… What guides me most of all is what I feel from myself and others. Love in particular. It’s very powerful.” Padme laughed in that way that indicated she was caught off guard. She took a moment before saying, “you sound like Anakin.” Jade snorted. “I’m sorry to hear that.” “No really,” Padme insisted. “He is very tied to emotion. Dangerously so, from what I gathered.” “It’s something we’ve all sensed in him,” Jade agreed. “But he is also much more talented than me. He’s one of those few with an affinity for futuristic visions. Several have come to pass even.” Jade took note of the crestfallen look that washed across Padme’s feature, but didn’t pause to ask about it since the senator concealed it again just as quickly. “I’m surprised the Council doesn’t utilize this particular gift in him more,” Jade went on. “They’re afraid of the uncertainty, the chance of failure or misinterpretation. In fact, despite all their talk about the evils of fear, I sometimes sense a lot of it in them. Sorry, I don’t mean to go on…” “No!” Padme said at once. “Please do. I’m very interested in the Jedi. Anakin talks about the Order, but I would like to learn more outside of him. As a way to…” “Impress him with your knowledge?” Jade asked, smirking. Padme bit her bottom lip, and she looked very young suddenly, to the point that Jade was taken aback. “Am I that obvious?” “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were smitten,” Jade chuckled. When Padme didn’t respond with so much as a titter in return, she chose to swiftly move back to her previous rantings. “You know, I have always believed that Anakin’s advanced psychic abilities had less to do with his midichlorian count and more with his allowance of emotion. He links up with people in ways most of us won’t, and perhaps it opens mental doors.” “I’m getting the distinct feeling that you find the Code antiquated,” Padme said, tilting her head forward. “Now I’m the one being obvious,” Jade laughed. “I understand why it is in place. Discipline is important for any warrior, but there are times that I think we all take it just a little too seriously. Some things aren’t a sin, regardless of what they would make you think.” “Which part seems to bother you most, Master Jedi?” Jade was experiencing that cornered feeling again. There were many things she could say that would brush off the senator’s question or explain it easily enough without divulging too much. Yet there was something that whispered to Jade, assuring her that this was something the other needed to hear. “Forbidding love,” Jade said at last, her voice barely audible. “Attachment to material possessions is one thing. Attachment to a person… Maybe there is harm in that, but I’m not a droid. None of us are, even though some would rather you think that.” “Like Master Kenobi,” Padme offered, her voice dropping to match Jade’s. “Exactly like Master Kenobi,” Jade agreed. “But I assure you, he is not.” The dreaded uncomfortable silence filled the gap between them and threatened to suffocate them. C3PO entered before either of them could give way to a strained bit of conversation that would have made the other wince. He took Jade’s discarded and glass and blurted out something about being terribly glad she’d enjoyed the beverage. Jade couldn’t contain her hysterical giggles at the absurdity of it all, and Padme soon joined her. Something had passed between them, and they were bound by thin threads. Whether it was a mutual understanding of harsh circumstances an impromptu war had brought, the silent knowledge that each of them had tread upon the Jedi Code and left it desecrated, or fate itself, neither knew. What they did see was the unusual connection, and even as they laughed merrily, they gave a wary glance toward an uncertain future. The End
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