Live Journal FeedDisclaimer: See first chapter.
/ Text / denotes mental thought.
{ Text. } denotes Mindspeech.
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Chapter 17 - Right of Aidoskai
Alia watched the lift doors close out of the corner of her eye, her shoulders growing lighter, as if a great burden had been lifted from them. She walked quietly down the corridor, moving close to the walls and letting her hand trail against the smooth stone. Letting her mind ramble about, she wandered the halls of the Temple, taking care to notice how the light from Coruscant's sun slanted its way inside the building and the way its shadows were cast. After a few moments, she began to take more notice of the corridors, admiring the intricacy of their designs and the motifs carved into them. Alia felt a sudden longing to see more of her father's home.
/ Just a quick look. /
Unable to refuse, Alia took in a deep breath, and walked toward the door nearest to her, gasping as she crossed the doorway. The room around her was enormous, the ceiling almost ten meters above her in height. Placing a hand lightly on one of the pure-white walls, Alia realized that they were made of Rystallan alabaster, and was astounded at the sheer age of the stone. / It must have been brought here thousands of years ago. / Awed by the stone's beauty and resilience, Alia reluctantly removed her hand and surveyed the surrounding room. / I must've come in through a challenger's entrance, / she thought, looking around curiously.
All around her, in a vast circle, was an amphitheater, where sunlight poured in from above through a huge domed window. There was a railing, also made of Rystallan alabaster, she noted, that ran the entire circuit of the middle ring; two openings were at each end, one immediately in front of her and the other on the far side of the arena. Beyond it was a massive stone motif, which drew her attention like a moth to a flame.
Walking quickly, Alia became fascinated by the figures of the sculpted mural, humans and other species locked in combat, with an ancient script flowing vertically downward in regular intervals. Though unable to read the ancient language, Alia was struck by its beauty. Moving even closer to the mural, she became engrossed in its intricate designs and detailed illustrations, and soon lost all track of time.
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/ This is all her fault, / Obi-wan ranted mentally, stalking down the hall. / If we had never met her none of this would have happened. / Obi-wan was being irrational...he knew he was being irrational...but for some reason he just couldn’t care. Too engrossed in his thoughts to be humiliated by the Council’s dismissal, Obi-wan's stride grew longer, more agitated as he moved away from the Council Chamber.
A small part of him recognized the anger within him as being unfounded, but he ignored it. It was much more satisfying to rail at that thrice-damned woman. / She's been nothing but trouble from the beginning, / [/i] he fumed. / Always pushing at things better left alone. Always prodding where she has no business in the first place! /
Heedless of where his feet were taking him, Obi-wan continued his mental tirade against Alia without pause. It was only as he was passing the entrance to the Practice Arena that he stopped. He could Feel her presence just beyond the door, and it flamed his smoldering temper even more that she would once again intrude where she did not belong. Checking the tide of his anger, Obi-wan quietly entered the theater, taking care to ensure the doors shut firmly behind him.
From his vantage point, he could see that she was in front of the Bodhi Effigia. He snorted. / Almost plastered against it, more like. / He walked confidently across the sun-warmed sands of the center arena, the weight of lightsaber at his side comforting him. / That's something she doesn't have. /
“I don't believe I thanked you for the display of skill you demonstrated for us back on Naboo," he called out, stopping a few feet behind where she stood, "But I must say, I didn’t suspect such talent to be hiding a fascination with ogling meagerly attired statuary as well.”
Alia whirled around, startled at the sound of Obi-wan’s voice. She hadn’t expected anyone to look for her, much less to find her gawking at ancient art. Blood flushed her face at the mocking irony of his words, causing her to cringe slightly and feel like a child who had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. At that thought, Alia's back snapped back into place as anger flashed in her eyes. She’d be damned before she’d let him castigate her like a wayward schoolgirl!
“I think you made yourself very clear about THAT,” Alia replied acidly, her embarrassment causing her snap at him, “And I also think it’s interesting that you'd chastise me for ogling when I've caught you looking at my ass in the exact same way."
Obi-wan's face reddened, though whether it was from anger, embarrassment, or outrage Alia wasn't certain.
"You have some gall to make such an accusation," he said while gritting his teeth, his disgust apparent, "To come here with your lies and impossible claims."
/ Ah, so that's it, then. I really should've guessed. / Alia shook her head slightly, rolling her eyes upward in supplication before looking at the Padawan once more.
"So, you don't believe me?" she asked, trying to control her temper at his belligerent attitude. Why did I think it would be any different this time?
"No, I don't," Obi-wan spat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think you made the whole thing up; quite clever really, using whatever device you did to project those images. You're quite talented for a credit-digging shrew."
He sneered at her, his mouth working itself into a vicious smirk. "I think your mother was just another whore spreading her legs for the first person to grease her palm with credits, and was too stupid to remember which one got her pregnant."
The sheer viciousness of his contempt shocked Alia so greatly that for a moment, she could only stare stupidly at him, her arms dangling at her sides. Her vivid blue eyes were frozen in shock as she tried to comprehend what he had said. When she did, however, Alia's electric eyes glowed dangerously for a moment, her gaze blistering with blue fire as she stared at him. The air around her began to crackle with energy, sending up sparks that fell hissing into the sands of the practice ring.
"How dare you," Alia said, her voice low and dangerous, "How dare you insult my mother!"
The crackling of energies around her body made Obi-wan falter inward slightly, but his outward calm remained intact. In an imitation of his Master, he raised a challenging eyebrow in her direction. A hot stab of fury lashed through Alia, its intensity causing her to take a step forward. She knew that look...she knew what it meant. After all, half of her memories were Qui-Gon's, and Obi-wan's arrogant attempt at imitating him pushed Alia over the edge.
"Aidoskai," she replied viciously, spitting at his feet. Her blue eyes were glittering in her fury, and narrowed to points of steel as she spoke the ancient challenge. "I bind thee, Obi-wan Kenobi, to ritual combat. I call thee to aidoskai."
His visible shock at her knowledge of the ancient Jedi rite amused Alia greatly and she gave him a great bow, reminiscent of when she had first met him and his Master...her father. As she straightened, the half-Angel chuckled darkly, raising her own eyebrow in defiance.
"Surely, Sir Padawan," she mocked condescendingly, "You do know about the aidoskai? I thought all Jedi were taught about the ritual challenge."
Alia's eyes narrowed as she spoke again, her voice dripping with disdain, "At least, from what I can remember."
Obi-wan's face turned purple with suppressed emotion. Alia watched in morbid fascination as the vein at his temple began to pulse visibly.
“Name your terms,” Obi-wan replied, his voice devoid of emotion.
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As soon as the hoverbox had docked, Amidala was up and moving quickly, seemingly eager to leave the Rotunda. Eirtaé couldn't blame her; whatever ideas she'd had about the Chancellor...about the Senate itself before coming here today...had been shattered, leaving a vile taste in her mouth.
"Ah, Your Highness!" called out a voice from behind them.
The young Queen, to her credit, did not visibly flinch at the Neimoidian accent, but whatever little emotion had expressed itself across her face was now completely erased. Halting with quiet grace, Amidala slowly turned around, the jeweled cylinders moving from side-to-side as they dangled from the headdress that adorned her long brown hair.
"Representative Kiljoi," she acknowledged, her brown eyes expressionless.
"I hope this unfortunate business can be settled peacefully by the time you journey back to your planet," the Neimoidian said, a smarmy grin upon his face, "Hopefully by then the Senate will have decided a course of action to pursue."
"I do not recall saying whether or not I will return to Naboo," Amidala said, her voice icy, "You presume too much, Representative Kiljoi."
"Oh, come now, Your Highness," Kiljoi responded. Eirtaé was certain that his smile had turned malicious as he continued, "I cannot begin to express the pleasure with which I look forward to your farewell gala."
"You are mistaken, Representative. There will be no g-"
"As you should, Sucha," Senator Palpatine interrupted, earning himself a fiery reproachful look from his Queen, which he ignored, "I have it on excellent authority that it will be a night worth remembering. The Queen and I both hope, as well, that this business between us will be concluded before then. Unfinished business, after all, is hardly conducive to any further dealings we might have. And now, if you'll excuse us, the Queen is feeling a trifle out of sorts, and must retire to her chambers."
Without further ado, Palpatine fairly hustled her back to the Senate Guest Quarters. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the Senator turned and glared at his furious Queen.
"You must be careful what you say, your Highness," he said, his voice wintry, "Even the walls have ears in this place."
"What do you think you're doing, Senator?" Queen Amidala snarled, her calm momentarily vanishing, "You usurp my authority to make my own decisions and make me appear weak in front of that Neimoidian gamashton, and now you have the gall to inform me that I'm going to be hosting a party?"
"It would be wise, Your Highness," the Senator replied, his voice uncharacteristically hard, "If you were to at least appear willing to observe the Capitol's customs."
"It is an irrational custom," she hissed back at him, her brown eyes momentarily losing their implacable calm, "Not to mention absurd, nonsensical, and unreasonable. It is a custom I have no wish to 'observe,' Senator. I will not mock the suffering of my people by adhering to the venal traditions of a weak and irresponsible government."
"Careful, Your Highness," Palpatine said softly, his gray eyes sharp and wintry. His voice was even less warm. "It would not do for the other Senators to hear you speak in such a way about their beloved Assembly. Particularly not if you wish to use such a gathering as a means to garner some unofficial support."
The Queen looked away, unable to say anything. Palpatine stared at her for a long moment, before turning on his heel and striding out of the room, leaving Amidala alone, save for her handmaidens. When the door shut behind him, the maroon-cloaked Rabé was at her Queen's side instantly, offering comfort.
"What am I to do?"Amidala whispered, oblivious to the handmaiden at her side, wholly absorbed by the unfair and absurd duty expected of her, "How can I plan party, for Nammu's sake, when my people are starving...dying...how can they expect me to be so cruel and unfeeling?"
"Etiquette and protocol often deviate from reason, my Queen," Eirtaé replied quietly, her heart aching for her fourteen-year-old Queen, "What may once seem a good idea at policy, will often become outdated before its time. Outdated, but not removed."
The blonde handmaiden watched helplessly as the Queen buried her head in her hands. It wasn't fair...any of this. The Queen wasn't even as old as Eirtaé; why did the Federation have to do this now? For while her predecessor, King Veruna, had been forced to abdicate his position due to an old scandal, Eirtaé could remember her father talking proudly of Veruna's gift at diplomacy and intelligent counsel. That counsel...that experience...would do wonders for her Queen, the blonde handmaiden thought.
"Send for Senator Palpatine," Amidala said, her voice muffled, "I must tell him to prepare for this accursed gala."
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Meanwhile...
Alia looked at Obi-wan with a measuring glance, studying his movements.
"Staff combat," she said at last, her eyes calculating as she gave him an unpleasant smile, "Disable only. No use of Force-capabilities. After all, I wouldn't want to injure you too badly. Father would never forgive me."
At the mention of Qui-Gon, Obi-wan's muscles visibly clenched and his gray-blue eyes flashed.
Alia simply arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to move. Obi-wan shrugged off his cloak, his eyes burning with raw anger. He'd teach her a lesson she'd never forget. Moving toward the endpost of the white railing, Obi-wan reached around and unlocked the long chest hidden behind it, retrieving two quarterstaffs from its depths. Tossing one carelessly behind him, he walked to the near side of the practice ring. Obi-wan bowed to her, mimicking her mocking posture, before settling into a ready stance.
Catching the airborne staff easily, Alia moved into her own stance, holding the staff in a loose, but secure, grip. Bowing to him in response, Alia schooled her face into an expressionless mask.
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Their first few bouts were tentative and half-hearted, as each tried to determine the capabilities of their opponent. Obi-wan, especially, was having a difficult time maneuvering Alia into a vulnerable position, as he wasn't used to fighting without his Force-abilities. Suddenly spying an opening, he pounced.
Spinning, Obi-wan swung the butt of his staff around hard, cracking it against her jaw. Blood spraying from her mouth, Alia kept her vivid blue eyes locked on his form, every hair on her body...every fiber of her clothing...every sense tingling as she watched him, circling with him to keep from being surprised again.
The Jedi Padawan watched her warily, straining the limits of his Sight to discern her next move. Sensing his distraction, Alia lunged forward, unleashing a sudden flurry of furious thwacks, cracks, and slashes. With a yell, she brought her staff down hard atop the hand that Obi-wan hadn't reacted quickly enough to save.
Caught off guard by her unexpected assault, Obi-wan let go abruptly from his staff, cradling it with one hand, and reacted by swinging his injured fist, cracking it against her chin. Quick as a flash, Alia retreated backward, her own staff held before her defensively to block his counterattack.
“Tut, tut,” Alia panted slightly, swiping the blood from her broken lip with her tongue as she moved away from him. She needed to catch her breath; it had been too long since she’d last fought this hard, “What would Father say about his precious Padawan losing his precious objectivity?”
Obi-wan saw red, and the last of his control snapped.
“He is my Master!” he screamed, bringing the pole down from high above his head in a two-handed grip, forgetting the restriction against Force-enhancement as he rammed as much Power as possible into his staff.
With a loud thwack! Alia met his staff with hers, her muscles straining to keep him at bay. Once his words registered, Alia gaped at him in shock. Taking advantage of her stupefaction, Obi-wan suddenly retrieved his staff and swung it at her legs.
Alia snapped out of her confusion just in time, Pulling at the energies around her to jump backward, narrowing her eyes at him as she blocked his subsequent advances.
"Is that...What this...Is about?" she bit out incredulously in between thrusts.
Infuriated by his petty jealousy, Alia felt another rush of adrenaline and pushed upward, pressing him back in a sudden series of strikes and jabs. Forced to parry and sidestep her attacks, Obi-wan was livid that she had managed to put him on the defensive, and opened himself instead to his offensive stance. Quickly flipping up and over her head, he swung his staff upward to ward off her strike to his head.
Obi-wan's defense left his right side vulnerable. Using the muscles she'd developed over years of climbing the massive trees of Dysis, Alia compressed her left leg unnaturally perpendicular against her chest, coiling her energy like a spring, before ramming the sole of her foot into his gut. Obi-wan spun around, catching her follow-up roundhouse kick square in the jaw.
Nausea and dizziness overwhelming him, Obi-wan stepped backward, tripping over the staff swiping at his knees. He fell to the ground, winded and seeing stars, his own staff clutched tightly in his hand. At the edge of his vision, Obi-wan could see a blurry shape flying toward him. The air left his lungs in a single second as he felt a heavy weight slam itself into his chest.
“Do you yield?” Alia asked, her voice cold and demanding.
“You cheated,” Obi-wan gasped instead, struggling to focus.
Alia jabbed the edge of her staff into his throat, placing it firmly against his larynx as she straddled his chest.
“So did you,” she retorted, “Now...Do. You. Yield?”
“Never,” he rasped, stars beginning to form along his field of vision. For a moment, he thought he saw two of the stars pull back into her eyes and glow an eerie glittering blue, before fading into the blackness of her pupils.
“Anger is your enemy,” Alia hissed, her eyes blazing as she dug the staff deeper into his throat, “Control is your ally. Harness your anger, control your enemy...and he will fall.”
Time seemed to still as they stared at each other, locked in place. Slowly, Alia removed the end of her staff from his throat. As suddenly as it had stopped, time restarted, and in one fluid motion Alia swung the staff toward his face.
"STOP!"
The bellowing voice ricocheted across the walls of the amphitheater, and Alia’s staff froze not a half-decimeter Obi-wan's temple. Neither looked at Qui-Gon, who was fast approaching them, so lost were they to each other's gaze. Acutely feeling Obi-wan's panting body between her straddling thighs, Alia let the staff fall from her hands, where it hit the sand with a muted thunk.
"Let your heart know anger, yet do not sin," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly as she rose from her position across his chest. Her vivid blue eyes still upon him, Alia stepped back to let Obi-wan stand.
"What is going on here?" was Qui-Gon's furious question as he came up to them, his daughter looming over his Padawan, who was laid out on the sand.
For a moment, Obi-wan could only stare at Alia. Now that the red heat of his anger was passed, Obi-wan was appalled at what he had done. Something of his horror must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew, the crackling energy around Alia's body and the righteous fury in her vivid eyes seemed to die away.
Ashamed at his loss of self-control, Obi-wan turned away from her, ignoring her outstretched hand as he stood, oblivious to the hurt confusion that flashed across her face before being quickly schooled into a non-expression.
"I will not repeat myself," Qui-Gon said tightly while looking from one to the other, his voice demanding in spite of its softness.
Tearing away her eyes away from the man she had almost killed, Alia stared hard at the sand at her feet, seemingly trying to memorize the exact position of each particle before snapping her head upward, staring at Obi-wan.
"Well?" the Jedi Master uttered acerbically, annoyed by their continued silence.
"By rite of aidoskai I challenged thee, and by duel we hath fought," Alia intoned, her eyes and voice expressionless as she recited the victor's oath, "By trial our blood-feud hath ended and in peace we shall go forth as fellow warriors, closer than kin or lovers. So shall it be."
"So shall it be," Obi-wan responded, feeling his throat constrict in the face of her inscrutable blue eyes.
Her gaze enigmatic, Alia turned and walked way, her feet making lonely little sand clouds as she passed.
"Stop," Qui-Gon commanded again, throwing up a Force-wall in desperation. / She can't just leave before I have answers. /
He hadn't expected her to step through his barrier as if it wasn't even there, and so could only stand nonplussed as Alia did just that, leaving the door behind her to close with a quiet hiss. Staring at the door with a slightly befuddled expression, Qui-Gon shook his head, trying to shake away the myriad thoughts running rampant through his brain, and focused on the young man at his side.
"Obi-wan," he said, silently commanding his Padawan to look at him. But Obi-wan, though his head rose, could not lift his eyes from the floor. "Not an hour ago I stood before the Council and told them you were ready to face the trials."
The Jedi Master gave a great sigh, before reaching out to grasp his Obi-wan's chin and tilting it, forcing his Padawn's eyes upward to where he stared at him for a long moment. The power behind his Master's gaze was unlike anything Obi-wan had ever experienced, but its unknown depth, while disconcerting, was not frightening. After a while, Qui-Gon's eyes refocused, and he put a hand on his Padawan's shoulder.
"I stand by that decision."
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From the Author - -
"If anyone is upset about how I've portrayed Obi-wan, let me say this: we know he feels strongly about Qui-Gon. We know this at the end of Phantom Menace because of how he fights Darth Maul. And he's been Qui-Gon's apprentice for a little over twelve years by this point, so I think it's perfectly reasonable to assume that he'd feel as strongly about him here as at the end of PM.
"About his irrational reaction to Alia's claim and the subsequent fight, haven't you ever taken it for granted that something belongs to you (or the equivalent) and then find out that it belongs to somebody else. And when it’s something you care deeply about, you really don’t want to give it up.
“Obi-wan is human, remember that, people, and for those not in the know, just before PM, Obi-wan nearly abandoned the Jedi Order (and Qui-Gon) on Mellida/Daan, to join the Young Movement to end a civil war. So, he's not a saint, and as such, is completely capable of feeling jealousy and acting irrationally. Jedi aren't perfect, just very good at hiding their imperfections."
From the Author 2 - -
"I had a lot of help in writing the action scene, as I'm more used to writing scenes with drama and emotions...I guess action could be an extension of that, as emotions run really high in an action sequence, but any way, I had help from Lady Turner's website, Camy at Writing-dot-com, and Marilynn Byerly's website."
From the Author 3 - -
"Be angry, yet do not sin." Ephesians 4:26. Yes, this is a Bible verse...yes, I am a Christian...and no, I am not proselytizing. This is a very wise saying, no matter what faith you follow.
Author's Notes
Bodhi from my sources, this means "enlightenment" in Sanskrit. If this is incorrect, let me know what the correct term is, and I'll fix it. Thanks.
Effigia effigy.
Aidoskai translation “regain dignity.”
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