DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
There is a creature, native to the plains of Naboo, known as the draga. It was sort of a beast of burden, supposedly suitable for riding. In reality, though, they were mean. Nasty. They'd chew a man's hand off, then step on his wrist with their big hoofy feet. Women thought they were absolutely adorable.
"He's so cute..."
Obi-Wan scratched his head. "He looks kind of... slobbery to me."
"He's just a big softy!" Amidala said, rubbing the beast's shaggy forelock. "Aren't you?"
The draga stared balefully at Obi-Wan.
"Um... Padme... are you sure you should be touching it? I think that poor farmer's trying to sell him. And he looks sort of... ill-tempered."
"He's a nasty bastard," the elderly farmer agreed. "He'll bite yer fingers off if he gets the chance."
"He seems nice to me," Amidala cooed.
The draga nuzzled into her palm winningly, then shot an evil glare at Obi-Wan.
"I don't like the way he's looking at me," Obi-Wan announced.
"Don't be silly, Obi-Wan," Amidala chided.
"I'm not being silly!"
"I tell you, he's a nasty bugger. If yer interested in buyin' 'im, though, he makes a good pack critter."
"I don't need a pack 'critter'," Obi-Wan replied. "I have a perfectly servicable T-7. I rebuilt the whole thing myself."
"Obi-Wan, would you just let the speeder bike go for a minute?" Amidala huffed, turning her back on the draga. It proceeded to nibble at her hair.
"Obi-Wan?" the farmer repeated.
"I'm... not from around here," Obi-Wan admitted.
"Huh. Came to the big city for the wedding, huh?"
"Yeah. It's my first time in a big city like Theed," Obi-Wan lied through his teeth.
"Stop that!" Amidala said, swatting at the draga.
"I told you not to touch that thing," Obi-Wan protested.
"No harm done," Amidala said quickly, trying to smooth her braid. When she realized that wasn't going to work, she pulled out the ribbon, and let her hair fall in a fat braid down her back. She stared at the semi-drooly ribbon in her hand, then thrust it at Obi-Wan. "Here. Hold this, would you? I'll fix my hair later."
Obi-Wan unthinkingly stuffed it in his pocket. "You ready to go?"
"Sure. It was nice meeting you!" she said, waving to the farmer.
"Have fun in the city," the farmer called back.
"He's right," Obi-Wan snorted when they were out of earshot.
"Hmm?"
"My name doesn't exactly fit in around here."
"Just tell people you're not from around here. They won't ask questions."
Obi-Wan frowned. "You have a fake name. Why can't I have a fake name?"
"Fine. I'll call you Ghunash."
"Ghunash?!"
Amidala shrugged innocently. "It's a good Nubian name." Actually, it was the name of Sabe's great-uncle, and had once been voted the Worst Name Ever by the handmaidens.
"Well, I'm not letting you call me Ghunash."
"Fine, fine," Amidala said, feigning anger. "Hmm. Good Nubian name... How about Ben?"
"Ben?"
"Sure. I knew a boy back in my home village named Ben. He used to pull my pigtails and chase me around with live gummats and that sort of thing. I thought it was fitting."
"Ben Kenobi. I like it."
"Er... sure. There's a good Nubian name," she said, rolling her eyes.
"I like it, and I'm going to keep it."
"Okay, okay. Ben Kenobi it is." She sniffed. "As if anyone would believe that was a real name..."
"Amidala!" Rabe stuck her head in Amidala's chambers for the fifth time. "Oh, thank goodness! I thought I'd lost you."
The Queen was engaged in yet another dress-fitting. Rabe sighed in relief, and sagged against the doorframe. Then the Queen turned to look at her.
"Sorry, Rab, Amidala's not here," Sabe said. "Margala needed to do some adjustments, and since I'm the same size--"
"Aaaarrrgh!" Rabe screamed, and went stomping down the hallway again.
"I don't know what her problem is," the seamstress sighed.
Sabe just shrugged.
"STEP RIGHT UP!"
"How strong are you? You afraid to show off your muscles, sir?"
"Win a prize!"
"What is all this?" Obi-Wan asked, glancing around.
"Oh, just carnival stuff," Amidala sighed. "You know. Hit the target, win a prize, show off in front of your friends, that sort of thing."
Obi-Wan glanced at a booth where a man was encouraging a boy who was trying to throw a small dagger at a target. "But anyone can do that."
Amidala gave him a funny look. "I bet you can't."
"I bet I can."
"I bet you can't without cheating."
"Cheating? How would I cheat?" Obi-War replied, outraged.
"Man destroys Destroyer Droids with a wave of his hand and swears he can throw darts without cheating."
"Oh, you mean without using the Force."
"Isn't that what I said?"
"Very well then, your Highness. We'll just have to see about that." He stalked over to the wooden booth, Amidala on his heels. "I'd like to have a go," he said, plunking some money down on the counter.
"Trying to impress your lady friend?" the carnie asked genially.
Obi-Wan snorted. "I could be a bloody Jedi Knight and it still wouldn't impress HER."
Amidala smiled.
"Here you go, sir," the carnie said, plunking four short daggers onto the counter.
"Thank you."
Obi-Wan picked the knife up in one hand, and felt the balance. Carefully, he tried to quiet the flow of the Force through his mind. It was strange. He spent so much time trying to get it to talk to him that it was difficult to get it to shut up. "Okay. I'm ready." And with that, Obi-Wan Kenobi threw the dagger the same way he threw anything else-- he swung his arm forward and let go, barely even glancing at his target.
The carnie hit the ground just in time.
"Er... sorry about that," Obi-Wan said lamely.
"You gotta aim, Mister," the kid next to him explained knowingly.
"Thank you for the sage advice," Obi-Wan replied. He looked back at Amidala. She was not laughing. Good. She was smiling a lot, and biting her lip, but at least she wasn't laughing. He snatched up another dagger, and threw it exactly the same way. This one went high. That time, Amidala couldn't help herself. Obi-Wan snorted, and looked at the boy next to him. "What was that about aiming?"
The boy picked up one of his own daggers. "You look at what you wanna hit, you kinda line it up, and... WHAM!" The dagger hit low on the target with a resounding thwack! "See?"
"Okay." Obi-Wan squinted at the target. He looked at his knife. He looked at the target. He threw the knife. "HA! Did you see that, Am-- Padme? I hit it! HA! And you said I couldn't do it! See? Did you see it? Right there, on the target."
Amidala's shoulders shook, she was laughing so hard. Sure enough, Obi-Wan's dagger had hit the target. It stuck out, barely a millimeter from the edge of the circle. Gingerly, she picked up the last dagger. "Can I try?"
"Be my guest," Obi-Wan replied, still gloating.
Amidala's dagger hammered into the bull's-eye, plunging into the wooden target up to the hilt.
"Nice throw," the carnie said.
"Wow!" the kid echoed.
"Lucky shot," Obi-Wan replied.
"Can we go now?" she asked, flipping her braid over her shoulder.
"Yes, please."
"Don't feel so down, Ben," Amidala said, patting his shoulder. "You've got the Force. There's no reason not to use it. I don't know why I dared you like that..."
"I told you I didn't want to talk about this."
"The only reason I could hit the silly thing is because Captain Panaka has been drilling--"
"PADME. Can we please not talk about this?"
"Okay," she said softly.
"What's that over there?" Obi-Wan asked, peering at a large crowd of people.
Amidala craned her neck. "Huh. Looks like dancing."
"Dancing? Looks like a free-for-all to me."
"That's because there's a bar right next door."
"That's my idea of entertainment."
"Ben! You don't even drink, do you?"
"I've been known to... indulge."
"Mm-hmm. You wanna watch the dancing?"
"Dancing? No, thank you."
"Why are you being so macho all of a sudden? It's about the knife- throwing, isn't it?"
"I'm not being macho, so lay off."
"Defensive, aren't we?"
"Look, go watch your dancing. I'm getting a drink. I'll pick you up in a bit."
"Pbbt. I'll pick you up, after you fall down drunk."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"You already said fine."
"I know. I was just saying it again." He stomped off through the crowd.
Amidala frowned. "Obi-Wan..." Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Hello, miss," a pleasant-looking young man said. He was a little older than her, dressed like the typical village boy. His shy smile and downcast eyes only reassured her guess. "Would you care to... join in on the dancing?"
Amidala finally looked away from the spot where Obi-Wan had disappeared. "I'd love to."
"Here we are! Ladies and gentlemen, please buckle your safety restraints as we approach scenic Jocar. All handmaidens and Jedi Padawans should exit at gate S. Your luggage has already been lost to the sands of eternity," Spath narrated, mocking the trite stewardess dialogue from most commercial space flights.
"Yea!" Anakin cheered.
"Urhhhn," Tare mumbled.
The was a hiss over the commline. "Arcturian cruiser 96-TR-1138, what is your destination?"
"Prynn City," Spath replied.
"Purpose of trip?"
Spath glanced at his passengers, and grinned wickedly. "Business."
"An' then I tol' 'er exactly what she could do!"
Obi-Wan sighed as the bar filled with raucous laughter. You're such a jerk, he told himself, nursing his ale. You're supposed to take the poor girl out for a day so she can forget she's marrying Westerly the Eopie- that-Walks-like-a-Man, and all you can do is make an ass out of yourself.
"Hey, kid, you doin' okay?"
Obi-Wan looked up. A barmaid was smiling over the counter at him, with a kind smile. She was a big girl, but still pretty.
"Yeah. I'm okay," he said.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"
"Well, most of the people in here aren't from around here, so it was a pretty good guess. The big question is, why are you wasting your time in here, when there's so much to do out there?"
Obi-Wan sighed. "There's this girl--"
"Hold on just a minute, sugar. I'm getting a chair."
"It's not that long of a story!"
"Sure," she said, pulling up a barstool. "Okay, there's this girl..."
"And she's engaged to this guy."
"Not you?"
"Not me. But she doesn't really want to marry him, she's just doing it because she thinks she has to."
"Pregnant?"
"NO!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, aghast. "No, it's a... family obligation."
"I see. So, what, you're in love with her, too?"
"NO! She's my friend, and I was supposed to take her out today, to help her forget. But we got in a fight."
"Oh. About what?"
"I was being... macho, and she was teasing me."
"You aren't one of those guys that loves their speeder bikes more than their mamas, are you?"
"Nope."
"Good."
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Aren't you supposed to give me some sage advice, now?"
"You don't need any advice. You know exactly what you need to do. What you need is a kick in the ass. You gonna do it, or do I need to come around the bar?"
Obi-Wan's head snapped up. "You're right."
"Naturally."
"Thank you. I'm... going to go, now."
"Good." The barmaid watched as the handsome young man left the bar, footsteps accelerating the closer he got to the door. She picked up his mostly-empty mug, and downed the rest of his ale. "Boy's in love with her. Why are the damn cute ones always taken?"
Amidala stared up into the eyes of her latest dance partner. He was young, but tall and muscled. A farm boy. His thick black hair hung over stormy grey eyes. He was every lonely village girl's dream hunk. Amidala was hoping he had three brain cells to rub together, and two of them had just stopped off at the restroom for a few moments.
She'd had no lack of dance partners. Nubian folkdances were generally pretty much freestyle-- one could switch partners every two beats or stay with the same one for an hour. Most of the boys here seemed to be about her age, fresh from their home villages. This was probably their first time in Theed. Some were shy, others downright flirtatious. There was certainly no shortage of cute ones. It could have been easy to forget she was the Queen, and just spend a few minutes as a girl again. Amidala would have been having the time of her life. Except for one thing.
Stupid Jedi, she thought to herself. Just when I think I've got him acting like a normal human being, he goes and pulls something like this. She wasn't even precisely sure why this bothered her so much, but it did.
She nodded again at the appropriate moment in the farm boy's dialogue. He was telling some story about birthing pakupaku. Or maybe he was talking about his speeder bike. She'd stopped listening some time ago.
"Excuse me."
Amidala's train of thought hit a kaadu who happened to be standing on the tracks, skidded off the rails and landed in a ravine, exploding into fiery chunks. "Ben?" she mumbled.
"I was wondering if I could cut in," Obi-Wan said smoothly.
"The lady and I were dancing," the farm boy said, his voice just this side of I'm-Going-To-Kick-Your-Butt-if-You-Don't-Get-Away-from-my- Girl.
"I'd really like to dance with the lady," Obi-Wan persisted.
The farm boy blinked. "I bet you'd like to dance with the lady. It was nice meeting you, Padme."
Amidala scowled, as Obi-Wan took her hand. "You mind... whatevered him?" she asked angrily.
"I really wanted to dance with you," Obi-Wan replied indignantly.
It was such a stupid answer that Amidala broke out laughing. Obi- Wan chuckled softly.
"I'm sorry, Padme. I was a total ass to you."
"I shouldn't have picked on you so much," she apologized, without even meaning to. She suddenly realized what they were doing. "Since when can you dance?"
"Hmmph," he snorted, breaking into a more complicated dance step. Amidala had to concentrate to keep up.
"Are you making this up as you go along?"
"No!" Long pause. "I'm watching this fellow across the way, and doing whatever he is. Eugh, I hope that's not his wife. She's hideous."
"Obi-Wan."
"What?" he asked, attention still fixed on another part of the floor.
She grabbed his face, and pulled it down, forcing him to look at her. "Stop it. You don't have to impress me."
He shrugged sheepishly. "I'm doing it again, hmm?"
"Yes."
"Sorry. Do you know how to dance?"
"Yes."
"Can I follow you instead of the guy with the ugly wife?"
"Sure. At least I'm better looking."
"Better looking than the wife at least. He's not bad."
"Obi-Wan!"
"Kidding! And I thought my name was Ben."
"Oh, thank goodness we're back on solid ground..." Tare bubbled, skipping out of the ship.
"Don't get too happy, yet," Anakin said. "We've still got the hard part to do."
"Oh, we're just convincing two people to come to their own son's wedding. How hard could it be?"
Obi-Wan and Amidala sat on the low wall surrounding the dancing area. The songs had turned softer and slower. It was the sort of music meant for gazing into someone else's eyes and sighing contently. Which was exactly why Obi-Wan and Amidala were sitting on the wall.
"I don't think I know this song," Amidala said. "It doesn't sound Nubian."
"It's not. Corellian, I believe. I've heard it before. There are words, you know."
"Huh. Do you know them?"
"Well... yeah. It's a love song."
"I could tell. Can you sing part of it?"
"No."
"No? Come on. Your voice can't be that bad."
"It's not that. I just... don't like singing."
"Okay."
She looked away, not willing to push the issue. Obi-Wan glanced down at her. She was gazing out at the dancing couples. He swallowed, and waited for the part he knew.
"And then he took her in his arms,
And stared out to the skies,
He made such lovely promises,
He made such lovely lies,
He said he'd always be there,
He said he'd stray not far,
And then set out the next day,
Headed for the--" Obi-Wan cut off self-consciously when he
realized Amidala was staring at him raptly. "Oh, never mind. It's a stupid
song, anyway. All Corellian love ballads are the same. Boy meets girl, boy
goes traveling across the galaxy, she pines away for him, blah blah blah..."
He felt his face growing rapidly redder.
"You have a beautiful voice," she said softly.
"Er... thank you."
"You should sing more."
"I don't think so."
"Why not?"
He felt his face go a shade or two redder. "If I tell you, you have to promise never to tell anyone. Ever. And especially not Anakin."
"Promise."
He shut his eyes painfully. "The Jedi have a long... oral tradition. You know, songs about past Knights. 'Pel-Nath Ru's Last Ride' and stuff like that. They're all dreadfully long and boring, and filled with things to influence the Padawans. Think of a twenty-minute song about the merits of meditation. Well, anyway, when I was about eleven, Master Yoda found out I could sing, proclaimed that 'talent should I waste not,' and made me memorize all of them."
"All of them?" Amidala said, trying hard not to laugh.
"A lot of them. What's worse is that he'd make me sing them on holidays and special occasions. I mean all the Masters thought it was wonderful, and the little ones liked it, but..."
"You got teased by the other Padawans?"
"Mercilessly! It was dreadful. Fortunately, Master Qui-Gon didn't care much for oral history. After he took me on, Yoda tried to have me sing for Depa Billaba's Knighthood ceremony. Master Qui-Gon said if he tried... oh, how did he phrase it? Oh, yes. His own 'skinny, green tail' would be standing next to me, singing back-up. I don't think I've sang, since."
"O-- Er, Ben, that's ridiculous. No one's going to make fun of you now."
"That's because I carry a lightsaber and know how to kick the crap out of people now."
"Well, I liked it."
"Er... thanks." He smiled, trying to cover up his embarrassment.
She smiled back. "So how does the song end?"
"Huh? Oh, he dies in space when his ship is attacked, she never marries. Like I said. Typical Corellian love ballad."
"Oh." She was quiet for a moment. "Ben, if you hate singing so much, why do you know the words to so many songs?"
Obi-Wan looked back at her, slightly shocked. And he couldn't think of anything to reply.