#Padmé in her quarter life crisis playing the sexy version of Courtly Love with Anakin makes the black corset dress in aotc make sense OK

[ironborealis]

Lineage Cousins AU pt.2

Part 1: (link)

The Council is calling it a 'sabbatical' -- a chance for him to rest, reflect, and 'recover' from the stress of Galidraan and Komari being found unfit for Knighthood.

Only a senior padawan, Komari had slain twenty well-trained Mandalorians in their armor on that snowy battlefield. Then she'd turned to him, smiling brightly and so very proud and he'd known that things were about to go horribly wrong. He could see in her eyes that what she wanted was more than just the approval of her master -- she craved something from him that he could never provide her.

He'd dispatched his second, Master Syldatna, to take Fett on to the Governor, as the Senate ordered, while he pulled Komari back into the ship -- one of the many mistakes he made that day -- to try and make the foolish girl see reason.

She'd kissed him as soon as the door to the ship had shut.

He'd pushed her away, tried to make her see that this was a silly fantasy brought on by a post-battle adrenaline crash and likely not enough meditation (his own master's cure all for every wor).

They would forget it ever happened and neither would speak a word of it -- no one, but especially not the Council had to know.

There was shame enough on his lineage for having lost his grand-padawan to Falling so recently, and he'd not double down on the disgrace by losing his own padawan to something as fleeting as lust.

Komari was strong-willed though, something he both admired and cursed about her at times. Trying to make her see reason with a calmly stated rational argument was rather like trying to hold onto sand with a clenched fist -- a futile effort.

He'd been blunt, the only way to get through to her when she got this way: After the battle today he'd been ready to nominate her for her Jedi Trials. All of that was now in jeopardy with the revelation of her inappropriate attachment to him. She had until they returned to Coruscant to decide whether to become a Knight or to chase a foolish fantasy that would never be.

He hoped it'd be an easy choice for her to make in five days. Yet, when she stepped before the Council he'd known with only the intuition that a master could have about their padawan that she'd failed him. With a grieving heart he informed the Council of her attachment. Her subsequent outburst at his 'betrayal' had killed any future she may have had as a Jedi Knight.

She'd stormed off to join a task force headed towards Baltizaar, hard-headed as per usual, determined to prove both him and the Council wrong.

At least she'd finally broken her unseemly attachment to him.

Then the Senator from Naboo had disclosed to the Council the terrible truth of Galidraan -- that he and his fellow Jedi had murdered hundreds of innocent Mandalorians and assisted in selling the sole survivor of the massacre into slavery. The Council had bowed their heads in collective shame and then interrogated him for hours trying to find some fault in him that caused the confrontation to turn into a conflagration -- unwilling to say a word against the Senate who had not only given him the poor intelligence in the first place, but had demanded the surrender of any survivors to the Governor. Surely, the fault for this catastrophe lay mostly with the Senate --

The Council had demurred and invited him to take a period of reflection, which then was formally extended into months once word had returned of Komari's death at the hands of the Bando Gora.

This unwanted "sabbatical" is really a chance for him to set all his affairs in order with the Council none the wiser. Jenza has been hinting for years that with their father gone there could be a place for him on Serreno. Their brother is certainly making a mess of it currently.

There's no denying that he's grown tired of the Council's scheming and politicking that saw Mace Windu promoted to a Council seat before him.

Perhaps he may even be able to do some good once he slips the Senate's leash on the Jedi.

He's sorting through his personal library, deciding on which book he should pass on to Jocasta for her collection and those that he will keep for himself when the message comes.

It takes him a moment to realize that his communicator is going off, a series of strident rings. He's of a mind to ignore it -- commiserations on the loss of Komari have been pouring in non-stop, to the point where he'd actually silenced the Sith-cursed instrument just to get some peace...

Except... there were very few who had permission to override his silencing of the damned thing... and none would do so without a good reason.

He digs through the stacks of books to retrieve the obnoxious little device with an aggrieved sigh.

The message is short:

.bandomeer.

.obiwan kenobi.

.the boy must be trained.

The brevity and lack of capitalization meant that it could only be Qui-Gon. Some excuse about the keys being too small for his fingers, if he recalls correctly.

How interesting that Qui-Gon should reach out to him now, after a decade of strenuously avoiding him without an explanation ever given.

Stranger still that Qui-Gon would recommend to him some initiate washout who'd wound up in one of the "Jedi" Corps... Qui-Gon knew how he'd felt about the Corps, Stars knew they'd had enough "debates" on their utility to the Order back when Qui-Gon was his padawan.

It's a week or so out to Bandomeer, to go and gawk at Qui-Gon's newest pathetic lifeform and try and figure out what about the child had enchanted his former padawan so.

What does a delay of two weeks really matter in comparison to leaving the place that has been his home for over 60 years?

***///***

The limited space aboard the ship means that there really is no escaping Kenobi -- they're sharing a berth space at the Queen's command, along with Anakin, although he suspected there was enough space among the ship crew's quarters for *one* of them to bunk down there instead...

He's careful to never leave Anakin alone with the man, even though he knows that it's illogical. Kenobi did not see him at his best the last time they met all those years ago on Bandomeer, and he won't have the man dripping poison into the boy's ears.

Kenobi has been thankfully reserved at every strategy meeting, his attention mostly focussed on his own holopad where he jots down notes that he doesn't share. Qui-Gon would accuse him of shirking his duties, were it not for the occasional well-thought out suggestion that Kenobi offers when the silence grows too long between himself, the Queen, and Captain Panaka, as they desperately grasp for any semblance of a real plan to defeat the Trade Federation that isn't dependent on an outrageous amount of luck.

He'd sworn to himself that he would be civil to Kenobi as befits a Jedi Master, but after four days his patience with his unwanted companion has grown as thin as a Tooka's whisker. Especially the last two nights when Kenobi has taken up with the Queen's handmaidens after dinner in the mess hall until late into the night. The mess unfortunately shares a wall with their berth, and he can hear their raucous games of sabacc, what he's pretty sure are poetry readings, and occasionally Kenobi's lilting voice singing lover's ballads --

Speak of the Sith and he shall appear.

Qui-Gon groans internally as the door slides open to reveal Kenobi performing the sort of overcomplicated bow down the hallway that would not look out of place in one of those Alderani "historical" holodramas.

"Good night, fairest ladies," Kenobi calls out -- and Force, Qui-Gon thought Rael was bad!

There's a flurry of giggles, before a chorus of "Goodnight, Ser Kenobi"s comes from the handmaidens.

He's mollified to note that Kenobi's garments are undisturbed, the folds still crisp. Not that anything too untoward could have happened in a place as public as the mess hall.

Tonight it seems the handmaidens have elected to play with Kenobi's hair, arranging it in a braid that encircles his head like a crown. Kenobi's hair is still too short to do a proper version of the style, and short pieces hair stand out from his head. The handmaidens have covered these in some sort of wax that makes them curl up sharply at the tips.

Kenobi looks like a sun-bleached Zabrak.

"Good evening, Master Jinn," Kenobi takes a seat on the bunk opposite of Qui-Gon's, and begins to undo the braid, held in place with what is revealed to be an alarming number of pins.

"Kenobi," he replies, but it comes out sounding hostile so he adds, "You seem to have been having fun."

Force, that came out even worse.

Kenobi lets out a vague hum in response, running his fingers along his scalp to break up the last of the braid.

"Rabé was eager to experiment. Apparently Stewjoni hair is supposed to be more naturally inclined to sculptural styles than their own, and Eritaé and Sabé decided to join in."

"Not Padmé, then?" He's glad that not everyone seems to have fallen for "Ser" Kenobi's charms.

"No, I rather imagine the Queen has other things on her mind than pantomiming Courtly Love."

Kenobi reveals the Queen's identity so casually that Qui-Gon barely resists the urge to suck at his teeth - he can feel the ghostly cuffing of Master Dooku's palm on the back of his head every time he's tempted to.

My padawan will not act like a common farmer was the frequent rebuke.

Judging by the length of Kenobi's hair -- it's practically tradition for young Knights with hair to let it grow untamed for a time once they're no longer obligated to wear the traditional padawan cut -- Kenobi must have been knighted two to three years ago.

Qui-Gon thinks he may have received an invitation, but he'd been terribly busy with the mess in Ankorhajj that he absolutely couldn't tear himself away to attend something as frivolous as a lineage brother being knighted.

Then Master Dooku left the Order shortly afterwards and there hardly seemed a point in reconnecting with Kenobi at all. Their Master hadn't even deigned to leave a note.

"They're teenagers," He scolds, because while Qui-Gon's not unfamiliar with the concept of 'Courtly Love' in the Naboo sense, he's also aware how quickly attachments can form. Attachment has been the downfall of so many in their lineage...

"They're children preparing themselves to fight in a war," there's a flicker of what can only be described as an 'infinite sadness' in Kenobi's eyes, before the anger that Qui-Gon remembers most about Kenobi as a boy burns it away.

"The Naboo make a sport of Courtly Love. I'm already a lost cause by their rules, since my vows as a Jedi warn me away from developing the sort of jealousy required to even be capable of 'love' by their definition." Kenobi sighs and his anger cools, his gaze becoming distant.

"If pretending with them for a few hours every evening, however, keeps their minds off the horror that awaits them upon return to Naboo, then it's no hardship for me to entertain them."

Kenobi's expression becomes haughty and Qui-Gon is unpleasantly reminded of their mutual master. "It should comfort you to know that Captain Panaka has volunteered to act as their chaperone. He stopped looking ready to disembowel me after a couple hours last night and tonight started regaling us with the details of the courtship of his first wife. A romance worthy of a holodrama I believe was the consensus,"

Kenobi melodramatically collapses back into his bunk as if swooning.

This conversation is not going any place where Qui-Gon thought it would. He feels like he should apologize, but he's concerned that if he gives even a little that Kenobi will take a whole parsec. Their master certainly knew how to, and made certain to teach his padawans the skill.

"I should not have been so hasty in my judgement," Qui-Gon settles on. "I do not know you well enough to make such judgements about your character."

"And whose fault is that, brother," Kenobi replies with only the faintest hint of bitterness, as he sits back up and begins to remove his boots carefully.

They both sit in the uncomfortable silence that follows as Qui-Gon fights the urge to feel stung by Kenobi's accusation.

There was a grain of truth to it after all, at least from a certain point of view. Kenobi had messaged him multiple times in the early years of his padawanship, but there had always been something more important that needed Qui-Gon's attention immediately. Once Qui-Gon found the time to write a response months might have passed and he frequently found himself with nothing to say at all.

Eventually, Kenobi got the hint and the messages stopped.

Force, why couldn't Kenobi be satisfied that Qui-Gon had found him a master to make him into a knight and leave it at that?

Kenobi has moved on, placing his boots at the end of bunk, and standing as he begins removing his leather obi.

Kenobi pauses, staring into the dim red glow of the wall chronometer for a moment, before looking over his shoulder at Qui-Gon with an absolutely wicked look on his face.

"It's ten in the evening, Master Jinn, do you know where your padawan is?"