Third Time's A Charm

Chapter: Two

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She was being followed.

Dormé slowed her pace. The man had been behind her for several minutes, ever since she'd left the last bar. He probably thought he was being sneaky about it. They all thought they were being sneaky. She rolled her eyes and made her way into an alley to wait.

One week on this planet and she'd had more men following her about than she knew what to do with. Maybe Val had been right to question her plan to stay here. It seemed she was going to have a string of men behind her everywhere she went, which was getting annoying fast.

I'm not a raving beauty, she thought, so why this sudden turn? Are faintly attractive women that difficult to find on Tatooine?

A shadow fell across the opening to the alley.

~~~~~~~~~~

Oh dear, Obi-Wan didn't like the look of this. The woman he was certain was Dormé had a man following her besides him. An unsavory, rough looking man that appeared the sort who ate live creatures for his meals. Maybe he should see if she required some assistance....

Nope. It was a 'blink and you miss it' fight. The woman made a move that was pure Dormé, the same move that had been used on the thief in the park that day long ago. Punch, kick, punch. The man who'd grabbed her went down, striking his head on a stone. With a grunt, he was out.

Well done, Obi-Wan decided. Quick and efficient.

The woman looked around, noticed Obi-Wan and returned to a fighting stance. "Tell your employer I am uninterested in a position on his barge. I don't dance." The voice was Dormé's, striking a harmonious pleasant chord in his memory.

Obi-Wan reached up and lowered his hood, revealing his face. "I don't dance either if I can help it, though I was required to learn several as a youngling. For diplomatic functions, you know."

She gasped, hands raising to cover her mouth. Her gaze traveled over him, recognition, shock, and then relief in her eyes.

He smiled. "Apparently, the galaxy is a smaller place than I thought it was."

"Obi-Wan," she whispered. "How...?"

He held up a hand to stop her. "I suggest we find a safer place for a chat, Dormé. Your admirer will be stirring in a moment."

Her glance fell to the ground. After a few long seconds, she nodded. "Very well. There's much to say."

"I know." She was correct. There was much to say, like 'why didn't you contact me' and 'why are you here and not safe at your home'. He found himself very curious as to what had brought her to Tatooine.

Lifting the hood of her cloak so that it covered her head and shadowed her face, Dormé came to him, hesitated, then fit her hand into the crook of his elbow. The touch was familiar and Obi-Wan covered her hand briefly with his. Her fingers were cold, trembling just a fraction. Obi-Wan led her into one of his favorite restaurants. The interior was dark and cozy and privacy could be obtained simply by sitting on the same side of the table.

The host led them to a table at the back.

Dormé sat across from him. She glanced at the menu, kept her attention on it. She didn't ask if he'd eaten there before or if he thought a certain dish sounded good, avoiding beginning conversation. The ensuing silence between them was mildly awkward in Obi-Wan's opinion. He waited until after their order had been taken and their server retreated before speaking.

Crossing his arms, he rested them on the table edge. "You never contacted me." Though he tried to keep the words neutral, he couldn't help the faint accusatory tone that was interjected.

"Nor you I," Dormé returned, copying his pose and tone.

"You never wrote."

"Nor you. It goes two ways."

"I had feelings for you."

"And I you."

He paused, searching her eyes for some spark of that affection she claimed she'd felt. He saw it there, mixed with regret and a lacing of fear. Fear? Was she afraid of him? If not him, then what? "You married another man."

Her gaze dropped to the table for a few seconds before returning to his. "I know."

"Why?" Did he even have the right to ask that question? Obi-Wan swallowed hard. He wanted to hear that she'd fallen madly, deeply in love with Tepin, that her love for the man had been the full sweeping sort that eclipsed all thoughts of others. And conversely, he wanted to hear that she'd never forgotten him and her love for her husband had been shallow and unfulfilling. Which was utterly ridiculous, wasn't it? She'd married him, after all. She must have loved Tepin deeply and he had no right to ask why she'd married Tepin in the first place.

"There was no future for us. I wanted more than friendship, more than secret meetings whenever you could come to Coruscant, or meetings veiled as strictly platonic." She shrugged, repeating, "I wanted a future."

"I could have given you a future." Gladly. He'd have given her whatever she wanted -- within the restrictions of his Jedi vows. There were ways around some of the restrictions, plays on words that could be made. The sort of things he knew others had done.

"Could you have given me marriage, Obi-Wan?"

It was his turn to look away. He would have given her everything -- except the one thing he couldn't give: marriage. He would have pledged himself to her, promised to remain faithful, but never that legal state anywhere in the Republic. No marriage. What could have been had circumstances been very different still made his heart ache, though he'd tried to put it away. He'd succeeded for awhile, until he'd come here with time to think on all the things that had gone wrong in every part of his life.

In the end, Obi-Wan had not forgotten his Dormé. That business of life had led him right back to her. "No," he replied, shaking his head. "I couldn't have given you marriage."

"I wanted marriage. I wanted a future together--"

"There are many definitions of what a future together could be. It all depends on your point of view."

She leaned back in her seat, tucking her hair behind her ears. Obi-Wan found himself mourning the loss of those long locks she'd once had. "My point of view has changed drastically on many matters. I was so naïve then, so cowardly."

"Cowardly," he began to ask, but their food arrived, distracting them both. He watched her tuck into a large platter with gusto, eating steadily yet still savoring the food as he'd once watched her do. How long had it been since she'd had a proper meal, he wondered? She'd grown thinner since the last time he'd seen her, her face and form leaner. "You're thinner than I recall," he said, pausing in his own eating.

"Thanks to the empire. Times have become difficult for even the honest merchants and such and worse for those who must avoid Imperial scrutiny if at all possible. The crew I just left last week ate much better than the one I was with before them and so forth. Right after I left Naboo was the worst." Dormé took another bite, chewed and swallowed, then sipped her drink before continuing. "When I left, I threw things in a bag, whatever I couldn't leave behind for sentimental reasons and necessity. Surprisingly little, really. A datapad, a few pieces of jewelry and clothes. A friend helped me leave the planet. I changed my attire, cut my hair. I didn't dare use my accounts and it wasn't long after I left that my friend told me to remain off-planet. Imperial reasons. I've not talked with her since out of fear she might be taken."

"Are those reasons still active?"

Dormé nodded. "And after all this time. I keep checking, hoping I can go back, but I know I'll never be able to. Not with the situation as it is politically." She shoved her plate aside, wiped her mouth. "You haven't asked about Tepin."

He took a long drink from his cup, then asked her over the rim, "What happened? Your former employer told me you were happy and now I find you alone here."

Her attention turned about the room. There was no one close to hear her, he'd already checked that and done so many times since they'd sat. "Tepin is...gone. Did you hear that the Emperor had Queen Apailana killed, and her staff with her?"

A chill swept him head to toe, a sadness forming in response to the question she'd posed. He could guess quickly what had happened to Tepin, for to bring that up in relation to his name meant one thing. "I'd heard."

"He and two of her handmaidens tried to smuggle her away. I was told by a source that he was among the last to die, guarding her until his last breath. That...Vader creature the Emperor keeps with him knew the secret passages. He had troops waiting and there was no chance for escape. Tepin died performing his duty."

He covered his face with one hand. Anakin. No...there was no more Anakin. Vader. Of course he'd know at least some of the passages. Anakin been there as a child, gone through some of them when they'd gone to re-take the palace with Padmé. Vader would know because of that. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath. If Anakin had not been with them, would Apailana, Tepin and the handmaidens have had a chance to escape? Or had their fate been set? "Believe me when I say that I am very sorry for your loss, Dormé." Uncovering his face, he stretched that hand across the table.

Dormé grasped it. Her grip was strong and firm. "Troops began house to house searches. My friend kept watch for me until she had to go herself. I fled, barely getting out of Theed before they put all the checkpoints up. You see, I and others doubted the official versions of...certain deaths...and I knew it was a matter of time before they came for me. Why wait and sit for your own execution?" Her smile was sad. "I mourned on the road and no one questioned why I was sad or why I eschewed attachments. I was one of the crew, but not a part of the group, if that makes any sense."

It made perfect sense. Why form an attachment when pain was caused by a deep one? He fought against wincing and didn't succeed. That hit a bit close to home, didn't it? Anakin's betrayal was like the continued thrusting of a knife into his heart and he forced the memory back. "We're two of a kind," he murmured, releasing her hand. They'd have to continue their discussion of the past later. The restaurant was filling up and the privacy they'd had was soon to be gone. "What are your plans?"

Dormé shrugged. "Well, I was going to retire and make a home here, but I find I'm capturing far too much interest of villainous men. I'm afraid if I stay here too much longer, I'll find myself carted off to 'dance' on a barge or in a dingy back room in some...establishment."

"I'm afraid the spaceports are filled with such men. Thugs, scum of the galaxy and villains aplenty. You could look in surrounding towns."

She laughed. "There's not much here in any direction, Obi-Wan, I checked. Just sand, sand and more sand, as far as the eye can see. And binoculars can see. Sand."

"Check out the area," he insisted. "Why don't you come out my way? You might find it better suited for you." Was he inviting her to leave with him? Obi-Wan frowned, motioning to their server for the bill. He was, wasn't he? Shouldn't he be upset over the way they had not connected years earlier?

Maybe. In reality, he found himself eager for the company of a friend; someone who never seemed to lack a topic of conversation and knew when silence was best. He recalled that she'd appeared so at ease in the silences during their conversation, while he'd felt awkward.

Dormé stared at him a long moment. Her expression indicated she was waiting for a catch and when he didn't say anything more, she nodded. There was a cynical gleam in her eyes that he didn't remember being there years before. "Very well. I'll go with you to wherever town you call home these days."

"I don't actually live in town." He smiled. "Shall I pick you up tomorrow at midmorning? I really must obtain some supplies and should have them squared away by then."

They parted company moments later, all arrangements made. Obi-Wan felt a hope growing inside him. Even if she left after looking the area over, it would still be nice to have her company for a few days. He strolled a short while, considering her tale. There were a few details he wanted to check on.

Two hours later, he'd researched her story and covered his tracks as best he could -- in case anyone was watching the information trail. She was telling the truth, but her tale had left out the worst parts of what had occurred. The official story was that families of key members of Apailana's staff had been brought to Darth Vader for questioning and had sworn allegiance right there to the Empire. Obi-Wan could read between the lines well enough. Translation: They'd been told to denounce Apailana and swear allegiance immediately or suffer the fate of loved family members. He could also translate the official versions of other events, such as that house to house search for Apailana's supporters and remaining Jedi.

Obi-Wan also came across an article on Dormé. She was listed as missing and wanted for questioning regarding Apailana's traitorous acts. Her life was laid out in that article, from her schooling all the way through her activities on Naboo after her marriage. She'd mentioned doubting official stories, but she'd not mentioned how she'd actively pursued the truth on many stories. Asking questions, interviewing people, searching records. The article called her a 'dangerous radical twisting truth for her own ends'.

He found that darkly amusing, since it was the other way around. It was the empire that twisted truth and did so without a second thought.

That musing inevitably set him on the path of brooding about Anakin, so he bought a bottle of his favorite liquor and headed for the room he'd taken for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

She hadn't honestly been this excited in a long time. Dormé spent the night tossing and turning in her lumpy bed and woke up early, feeling a bit groggy and out of sorts from her fitful sleep. Still, she found she was looking forward to spending time with Obi-Wan. The feeling that was burgeoning swept her back in the years and she recalled that nervous searching through her closet that day on Coruscant.

She opened her bag to take out clothes for the day, her hands drawn to one small, carefully rolled and secured bundle. With a half-smile, Dormé lifted it and untied the ribbon she'd wrapped about it to keep it rolled. With gentle hands, she unrolled the garment and held it up. The blue would still match Obi-Wan's eyes and Dormé wondered what had possessed her to drag this dress with her all across the galaxy.

It had been her choice for that tea and she'd worn it to see Obi-Wan, that last time they'd met face-to-face. It had been put away that day and not worn since. Oh, she'd meant to bring it out and wear it for Tepin, but somehow, she'd forgotten to do so, leaving it wrapped up all this time.

You didn't forget, her mind whispered, and that was the problem.

She gave it a shake. What wrinkles were in the fabric shook out and she drew a loving eye along the lines of it. This dress really had been one of her favorites. The fabric, the beading. Out of all her clothes, those pretty dresses Tepin had bought her and those she'd had before their marriage, she'd been unable to leave this one behind. She recalled that moment of hurried packing, with Rabé keeping a look out, urging her to be quick before the troops made their way to that street. She'd tossed things into her bag and dug for this dress. The urge to take this dress had been like needy fingers upon her, grasping, insistent. She'd had to find it.

Rabé had looked at her like she was crazy for that, but Dormé knew she wasn't crazy. The dress was a link to her past, a gentler time when there had appeared at least some order in the galaxy.

Her teeth dragged along her lower lip. Would it still fit? She'd lost weight on her forced meanderings through the galaxy. Setting it on the bed, Dormé slipped off her nightclothes and pulled on the dress. Working the buttons in the back was a challenge, but one she rose to, and after a long moment, she had it fastened. It fit, though looser in places. The bodice was snug, as it had been, and the skirt slung just a fraction lower on her hips. All in all, it felt good to have it on again, if only for a few minutes.

Dormé went to the mirror and turned this way and that, smoothing the fabric. She allowed herself a wistful smile, imagining how Obi-Wan would react if he saw her in this again. Would he be pleased? Or would it make him sad to remember it?

His invitation to go with him had surprised her. She'd not expected it. What she had expected was a reserve after the beginning of their conversation, but no, he'd warmed up again and memories of their past conversations had leapt to her mind. She had a good feeling about the trip with him. Something good was going to happen, she knew it.

Giving one last brush of her hand along the fabric, Dormé decided she should change before he arrived. Maybe after they'd talked for awhile and cleared the air a bit better she'd bring up the subject of her dress, but she wasn't going to wear it today. That simply wasn't a good idea. It occurred to her that she'd been extremely overdressed that day, wearing this to tea. How silly she must have looked in this fancy dress!

A noise behind her startled her. Dormé had just enough time to see a large man behind her before darkness descended and consciousness left her.