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Chapter 15 - Sealing the Bond
This couldn’t be happening; his Master wouldn’t betray the Order, wouldn’t turn his back on everything he’d taught his Padawan. She was lying, she had to be: but Obi-wan knew truth. He could Feel it. He had felt Qui-Gon’s interest in Alia was more than his usual helpfulness toward pathetic life-forms, and during their trip to Coruscant, he had felt the connection that had formed between them. But if Alia was to be believed, that bond had always been there, and his Master, his mentor, the closest thing he had to a father, belonged to someone else.
In the silence that followed, Alia felt her self-control slipping, and could feel the beginnings of hysteria coming on as she stood perfectly still before the Council. In an effort to restrain the inevitable collapse of her shields, she made a desperate decision. She bowed low to the Council, turning around to walk toward the door. She passed where Qui-Gon and Obi-wan stood without looking at them, to where Anakin was waiting, his eyes wide. Without saying a word, she took his hand and walked out of the chamber, closing the doors behind her with a slight wave of her hand.
Silence had fallen over the Council chamber as the members tried to wrap their minds around Alia’s story. While others struggled to understand exactly how such a union might occur, Yoda closed his mind to the difficulties of the time, and chose to meditate in the silence that had ensued.
Light enthroned in darkness, stars upon stars swept into a hand gloved as black as space, as powerful as any Jedi; and in the heart of this conflict, two stars shining: one burning brightly despite the hand encircled around it, its intensity searing to Yoda’s eyes. The energy of the other was no less concentrated, but less stark, less clear in its brightness; the circling power around the latter star was more clouded, less certain of its path. Yoda sensed a turning point in this one’s future, a decision to be made that was crucial to the fate of the Force. Of this, he was certain.
Once the doors behind Alia had closed, as one the Masters turned to where Qui-Gon and Obi-wan stood, still dazed from the revelations that came from the woman with unnatural eyes and an even more unnatural birth.
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Once she heard the slight sound of the door closing, Alia let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Her heart constricted and her mind was uplifted and dim all at once. She didn’t know how to feel as she let go of Anakin’s hand, sagging against a wall with sudden weariness.
“Alia?”
Her eyes heavy, she gave in slightly to her body’s sudden demand for rest, and allowed her head to fall back against the duracrete wall.
“Yes, Anakin?"
“Are-are you real? I mean, really real?”
He watched as a sudden smile played on her lips, a smile that he now realized was similar to the slight grin Qui-Gon used to give him back on Tatooine.
“Yes, Anakin, I’m real,” she said, her eyes closed even as she held out a hand to him, “Touch me, if you want.”
Taking at her hand, Anakin felt a sudden kinship with this girl; they had both grown up without fathers, had both left mothers behind, had both been taken in by Qui-Gon, and he knew, somehow, that they were tied together, for better or for worse. With an insight that went beyond his years, Anakin looked past her physical tiredness, and Touched at the sadness that was in her soul.
Her eyes flew open, startling him like they always did with the intensity of their color. Anakin looked into them for as long as he could, before finally having to look away.
“I believe you, Alia.”
Something welled up inside the blue-eyed woman; it might have been hope, it might have been desperation, but it gave her the will to push away her despair, and force herself to stand.
“At least someone does,” Alia said, running a trembling hand through her hair. Giving him a shaky smile, she tightened her hold on his hand, and together they walked to the elevator, neither of them feeling the need to speak. When the doors opened, neither of them said a word, content to be with each other and examine their own thoughts.
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“Explain.”
Master Windu’s voice was hard and uncompromising, yet it took a few moments for Qui-Gon to focus and reply. Explain? How could he, when he didn’t understand it himself?
“I cannot, Master.”
“This is impossible to believe, yet I sensed no deception, no lies when the girl spoke,” said Master Depa Billaba, her soft voice sharply contrasting that of the dark-skinned Head of Council.
“Deny you her claim, Master Qui-Gon?” asked Master Yaddle, compassion and sympathy warring with disbelief in her brown-green eyes.
“I…do not know,” he replied, shock still racing through his veins.
/ I have a daughter, / he thought, dazed / I have a daughter. / Words, images, feelings….they were crowding him, flooding his mind in a hazy whirlwind. Her eyes, the eyes of…..He heard her name, heard the warm, beautiful song climb higher and higher until he was flying with her once more. / Once more? I’ve never flown in mid-air. / And yet he had...and had not.
He remembered moonlit nights of passion and happiness, of blazing rows and their passionate make-ups. Their home, built at the edge of a lake and bordered by a forest….the days they spent with their family / I have no family, the Jedi are my family. / and the nights where they expressed with their bodies how much they loved each other. But none of that was real; Qui-Gon knew his past, knew that none of the memories rushing through his brain were true, and yet they were.
“True it is that a mission to Jabiim you were given, and true it is that reported you did of a delay,” remarked Yoda, his face expressionless despite the curiosity that raged beneath the surface.
“Yes, Master,” agreed Qui-Gon absently, still trying to sort through the sudden onslaught of his mind.
Mace Windu shared a look with Yoda, and together they silently agreed that Qui-Gon Jinn needed further examination, one more personal that would perhaps discomfit his Padawan if he was allowed to remain.
“Padawan Kenobi, wise it would be for your Master to confer in private with us,” said Yoda, unusually direct in his polite demand.
The young man nodded slightly, bowed, and silently exited the room. As one, the Council looked back to Qui-Gon, and as Yoda leaned forward, he spoke softly but with all the authority his eight hundred and fifty years of experience granted him.
“From the beginning, it is wise to start. What you remember, tell us.”
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As they walked together to the lift, Anakin couldn’t help but notice how distracted Alia was, her body not moving as gracefully as it usually did. When they reached the doors, he turned to her.
“Alia,” he said, his voice causing her to turn toward him, “What’s wrong now?”
She laughed, giving him a small smile.
“I’m just trying to sort through all this, Anakin,” she answered, her voice soft, “I’ve had to hide who I am my whole life, even from my family on Dysis. I don’t have to hide any longer, but I’ve never done anything else.”
“You didn’t hide from me,” said Anakin, his senses picking up on the guilt she had spent years trying to bury.
“I hadn’t known you long enough, Anakin,” Alia replied, smiling softly as she looked down at him, “You never asked questions that I couldn’t answer.”
Still smiling, she removed her hand from his to place it around his shoulders in affection. Giving him a squeeze as they walked down the corridors, Alia marked at how tall he was already. Beneath her fingertips she could sense the changes in his body even now, could imagine how his limbs might stretch to fit his promised height. They walked in companionable silence, their footsteps light upon the cold tile of the Temple floors. When at last they came to the lift and the doors opened at their approach, Alia bent down suddenly, grasping the boy’s hands in her own.
“Anakin,” she said, searching his eyes, “I need time to think, and I don’t think I’m ready to face all those people out there. Not yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Can I trust you to make sure Jar Jar gets back alright?”
“Of course you can,” he replied, huffing indignantly.
Alia smiled, raising a hand to cup his cheek.
“Yes, you’re right,” she said softly, “I should’ve known I could trust you. Forgive me?”
The twinkle in her eyes made him suddenly shy, and he dropped his head, murmuring nonsense under his breath. His new friend laughed and ruffled a hand through his hair before standing upright.
“Silly boy,” she said, her smile wide.
“But what’ll I tell him?” Anakin asked suddenly as he was ushered into the lift alone.
“The truth.”
“All of it?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yes.”
Shaking his head at her simple answer, Anakin allowed the lift doors to close on his friend, her tall body already turning away from him. Casting his eyes around the small compartment, he wondered how she would get back to their rooms.
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Author's Notes
Duracrete Canon Star Wars material. Go to the SW website for more details.
