Valorum was not a man to waste time on problems he could not directly solve. It had not taken long to realize that the relationship forming between his Regent and the captured Jedi was one he would not be able to influence. Thus he had remained silent on the subject since Obi-Wan had returned from the river. The difference was plain for even the most casual observer to see; the Jedi had submitted. His posture reflected the result of the terrible war between his pride and his desire. And Obi-Wan...there was a closed, subdued look in his eyes that worried Valorum immensely.
In the hours since their return, Jinn had been exiled to the seraglio, and Kenobi had been pushing himself through a rigorous kata, punishing his body in a way Valorum had not witnessed for many years. Tension defined every line of Kenobi's body, lending a strained desperation to his movements.
Valorum perched on the edge of a training rig and made himself as comfortable as possible while he watched the Regent perform the strange, primitive airborne dance; Obi-Wan had a marked preference for leaps and spins.
Three leaps, a twist in the air, an outstretched hand falling softly to Kenobi's side. It had been the Regent's favorite exercise as a child, and he had excelled at it as he had at every other task he was given. The Regent had always sworn by the disassociation that could come from hard exercise, the mind-numbing quality of being one with the Force. This time, however, Valorum could see he was not succeeding. Obi-Wan's movements were becoming faster, spinning almost out of control.
Obi-Wan settled to the ground without noise, feet touching the mat lightly like some kind of stealthy winged predator, and lifted his hand, staring at it. "Look, my friend," he breathed, extending his palm, all titles and pretense dropping away between them for a moment. "Even the calluses are wearing away now." He raised sad eyes to his Chancellor, who nodded without speaking.
It seemed fitting, in a way. Time had eroded all other signs, leaving nothing behind but memory. And even that could be corrupted.
As suddenly as the memory had come, it passed, and Kenobi resumed the kata with a vengeance. Patiently, Valorum waited for Obi-Wan to tire, to stop, but his stoic demeanor brought only a hard smile from the Regent.
"Another lecture, Valorum?" Kenobi teased as he somersaulted through the air in the midst of a complicated series of maneuvers. "Going to scold me for going out without my chaperones?"
"Not tonight," Valorum said. Something in his voice brought Obi-Wan up short.
He halted his midair turn and twisted neatly, tumbling out of the vault to stand before Valorum, breathing heavily. A frown creased his features. "What do you have to tell me?" he asked, wiping sweat from his forehead with an impatient hand.
"The Sith will arrive shortly after sunrise." Valorum paused to let the information have its effect, then went on. "We should speak about the ramifications of your...relationship...with the Jedi. And about Xanatos."
"What about Xanatos?" Obi-Wan's head rose, eyes questioning. "Has something happened?"
Valorum caught himself before his surprise could register fully in his expression. "No, no," he said hastily. "I've just noticed something that might be of importance, and it can't wait any longer." Obi-Wan made an impatient gesture, so Valorum continued. "There's only a small amount of information available in the database regarding Xanatos. When he was purchased, he wore no collar; he seemed to be an ordinary slave, no different than the thousands of others. Yet, when he was first sold into the hands of a slaver, he was made to wear a Force-inhibiting device."
"Your point?" Obi-Wan gazed at him, eyes placid, curious. Suddenly, Valorum understood.
"You *knew*?" he asked incredulously.
"Not precisely, not in the way you mean." Obi-Wan reached past Valorum for his towel. "Who do you think healed me the night Anakin was attacked? I lacked the strength to do it myself." Obi-Wan buried his face in the towel, rubbing briskly before raising his face again. Valorum was startled by the emotion glowing in his eyes. "He revealed his abilities to me at the risk of his own life. I owe him some semblance of privacy in return."
"There's something about this that isn't right," Valorum persisted. "Why was a Force-dampener required when he belonged to his first master, but not when he came to us? No young slave becomes so compliant, so obedient. It isn't natural."
"Perhaps not," Obi-Wan agreed. "But you have started to see conspiracy behind every action, or inaction. Coming here was certainly a less disagreeable fate than he might have met in the mines of Bandomeer, or any of a thousand other Sith-spawned places. Perhaps he just accepted his fate."
"You know that isn't very likely." Valorum folded his arms in his classic posture of protest and waited for Obi-Wan to answer. When no answer was forthcoming, he added, "I don't want to believe it either. But there is a possibility-"
"No." Obi-Wan threw the towel aside. "He is not the assassin we seek. I'm sure of it."
"You can't afford that kind of certainty," Valorum said softly. "None of us can. *Not with what's at stake here!*"
It was the first time Valorum had dared to remind the Regent of his duty, and he struggled not to flinch as stormy hazel eyes caught his, changing color rapidly, taking on the gray-green of an angry sea. "You have no right," Obi-Wan said sharply. "You have nothing to lose."
"If you die, I lose more than you might imagine," Valorum retorted immediately. Impasse, once again. Rather than let the moment stretch into quiet anger, he went on. "And there is the matter of the Jedi..."
"We are bonded," Obi-Wan said, without emotion, eyes never leaving Valorum's.
The Chancellor blinked, felt his mind shifting gears to accommodate the new information. "What...what did you say?"
"I always supposed that if I were to bond, I would feel more," Obi-Wan said flatly. "This...this is something completely alien to me. The Force has caused this, and I have no idea why." Obi-Wan's fingers twisted together. "The bond pulls at me constantly, Valorum. I feel as though I am never alone, even inside my own mind. There is nothing that is my own any longer, except..."
"Except your duty," Valorum finished for him.
Amusement flashed in Obi-Wan's eyes. "That's not precisely what I was thinking of."
"I know who you were thinking of." Valorum rose, paced a few steps across the edge of the practice mat. "Does Xanatos know yet?"
"No. I've called for him to meet me here." The heaviness in Kenobi's voice was painful to hear. "I'm trapped," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "I've always trusted the Force, but now...this is beyond my understanding. It's shaping my future without my consent."
"You will find a way to make sense of it." Valorum said the words without conviction. That fact was not lost on Obi-Wan, whose expression became thoughtful.
"And if I can't? What then? I'm tied to a man I barely know without the slightest idea why. I want him, Valorum. But it's not-" He broke off, setting his jaw stubbornly. "I can't risk making him a part of what we have undertaken here."
"Don't be so quick to dismiss this. As I recall, you were certain that the Jedi should not be killed," Valorum pointed out. "You said you had a purpose for him. Perhaps the Force was guiding you, even then."
"Perhaps." Kenobi smiled then, a rare smile, full of mischief. "Are you ever out of possibilities and perhapses, Chancellor Valorum?"
"Never, Excellency." Valorum returned the brilliant smile, feeling a little less apprehensive.
"You sent for me, my lord?" A voice from the other end of the mat drew their attention. Xanatos knelt at the far edge of the mat, head bowed only as far as was barely permissible, black hair falling over his face.
"I did indeed." Obi-Wan rose from the mat with a last reassuring glance at Valorum. "You may leave us, Chancellor."
"Good night, Excellency." Valorum hesitated in the doorway, watching as the two young men faced one another, sighing at the electricity generated by a simple look passing between them.
It would be a long night for them all.
**********
Obi-Wan turned to look at Xanatos and knew nothing had changed. It still burned between them; a fine filament of lust, of need, so strong and clear that Obi-Wan wondered how he could have desired any other with such intensity. He pushed the thought of Jinn from his mind. It was his right, to do with his slaves as he pleased, to conquer them in any way he chose. Jinn must be no different. Deliberately, he closed off the bond, sensing and disregarding Jinn's curiosity and discomfort. He could not be responsible for that confusion. There were other things to attend to.
"Spar with me," he offered, striding to the opposite wall as Xanatos rose from the ground. He took two staffs from the wall, lightweight, made of a metallic alloy.
"As you wish, my lord." Xan's pleasure shone through in every way; the light in his eyes, the tiny grin, the sudden excitement in his voice.
Obi-Wan held out the staff, but as Xanatos moved forward to claim it, he halted the other man with a quick gesture. "Not that way."
Understanding flashed across Xanatos' features, followed by a quick succession of other emotions - fear, worry, indecision, regret. Obi-Wan waved them off, stepping closer, lowering his voice. "You shared your secret," he said softly. "I will not press for answers. Not yet."
Xan nodded, reaching out with one hand. The staff wobbled uncertainly in the Regent's loose grip, then shot out of his hand, landing securely in Xan's grasp. Kenobi flew at him, striking quickly, and found his first blow solidly blocked. They grinned at one another through crossed staffs, just as Xanatos shoved Obi-Wan away.
Quick strikes, each blocked by an equally quick countermeasure. The metal rods became a blur as the two graceful opponents circled and whirled across the mats, tapping and retreating, each attempting to land a blow which would result in an unquestioned win. Faster and faster, and suddenly, the match of wills and strength became a dance of balance and strength, a dance which had its roots in antiquity, a pattern Obi-Wan had known since he was a child...
Xanatos was caught off balance suddenly as the Regent landed a sudden blow to his chin, followed by a quick strike to his midsection. Kenobi knocked his staff away and swept it aside, landing a hard blow to Xan's back, driving him to the ground.
"I'm...out of practice," Xan huffed, rolling to one side on the mat, looking up at Obi-Wan with a mixture of awe and wariness.
Obi-Wan tossed his staff aside and extended a hand to his opponent, lifting him from the ground. "Were you a Jedi?" he asked quietly, without letting go of the hand clasped in his own.
"Yes." Said without fear, without apology. Blue eyes challenged him to take the step he must take by law, a step both men knew he would never take.
"I have had enough of Jedi," Obi-Wan said wearily, stepping back. His fingers slid between Xan's, hesitant to break that small point of contact, until finally they were separated. He looked at the other man appraisingly. "You were good," he acknowledged.
"It has been too long..." Xan bowed his head, avoiding Obi-Wan's eyes. "I cannot remember most of what I learned."
"You know enough." Obi-Wan stepped closer, lifting Xan's chin with his fingers, soothing the darkening bruise he'd inflicted with the staff. "In another life, you would not be a slave."
"I am not unhappy." Xan's chin rose higher.
"But there are things about your servitude you find difficult to bear," Obi-Wan noted quietly. "You are my unquestioned favorite now, but it was not always so. And still, I summon others to my bed."
"It is the way of things. You have many to choose from," Xanatos said, tilting his face into Obi-Wan's touch, closing his eyes as a thumb drew a gentle line across his lips.
"And if I were to care for one such man?" The question took Xan by surprise, bringing a flush to his face that heated his skin and betrayed his deep feelings on the matter.
"You mean the Jedi." At Obi-Wan's curt nod, Xan continued, "My master is wise. You would not...In all things, you are deliberate. In this you will be, as well. And it is possible that the Jedi will relent, and agree to work in your service."
"He is not the kind of man who relents, Xan." Wry humor colored his tone. "I had hoped that time would change his mind, but it's clear now. He will serve me as the others do, and under duress. That's the way it will be."
"Then...you-?" Xanatos stopped, waited, leaving the question unfinished.
Obi-Wan studied the expression of the man before him, which changed so often and with such mercurial grace. He did not relish the prospect of seeing hurt in those eyes; the thought of it gave him pause.
"Yes." There was no need to say the words aloud.
All color drained from Xan's face as he searched for words. "I thought perhaps..." He stepped back, stumbling away, falling to one knee. "I had hoped he would serve you in another way." Xan raised his pale countenance, eyes numb and hollow, all light eclipsed by grief. He rose to his feet rapidly and turned to go, but Obi-Wan was there, blocking the way.
"Why should this bother you so?" he asked harshly, taking hold of Xan's arms and turning his slave roughly to him. Xan turned his face away.
"I am my master's property, to do with as he pleases." Empty words, frail and brittle, and laced with a depth of agony that cut into Obi-Wan's soul.
Obi-Wan caught Xan's face between his hands, cradling it. "You are much more than my property," he said, touching his lips to Xan's, warming them with his breath.
"I am nothing." Xan moved to twist away, but he was restrained, held in place by a strength he could not conquer. "What I wish to be to you, I cannot be."
A tightness began in Obi-Wan's chest, a strangled, half-formed feeling. "You have only to ask for what you wish." He ran his hand through the thick black hair, curving his fingers around the nape of Xan's neck, producing a shiver beneath his possessive touch.
"You cannot give me what I most want, my master." Xan's fingers traced the curve of his jaw, eloquent in their communication of longing.
Xan's hollow sadness tore through Obi-Wan, reaching into his heart and tugging free the truth without mercy. He felt the words come unbidden, and he let them fall. "I am a slave as much as you, Xan, and in as many ways." Disbelief met his words, but he continued, speaking quietly, calming the roaring in his blood. "I serve many masters. You are bound by your duty, and by your passion, as am I."
"I am bound by my heart," Xan said, trading truth for truth.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, stroking the back of Xan's neck gently. Finally, he raised his head, finding and falling into the tormented depths of Xan's eyes. "As am I," he said hoarsely.
"Then you...you should call for him..." Xan made a half-hearted attempt to push Obi-Wan away, but he was held fast.
"My heart is not bound to the Jedi." The tightness in his chest released, and he allowed the emotion to become what it wished to be, to enfold him, to cushion the sound of his soul shattering into pieces, one fragile bit at a time. Stunned, Xan sought confirmation in his eyes, and Obi-Wan opened to him, hiding nothing.
Strong hands pulled the dark head down, and Obi-Wan captured Xan's mouth with his own, turning the taste of bitter regret into the sweet savor of desire. He knew every corner of that pleasing space, and he coaxed forth Xan's tongue, teasing it into a sensuous war of thrust and retreat until both men gasped for air.
Xan settled his forehead into the curve of Obi-Wan's shoulder with a shuddering sigh. The moisture of Xan's silent tears cooled on Obi-Wan's skin as he wrapped his arms around Xan, and they stood motionless together, quiet inside the moment.
**********
Sunrise came shrouded in thick clouds and abysmally gray skies. It seemed fitting to Obi-Wan that the Sith should choose this time to make their appearance. They had made Taganor a world of shadows, and now they had come, finally, to inspect their creation.
Kenobi stood at the back edge of the landing platform, watching the sky and waiting. The ship was close; it would not be long. It had not been possible to keep the Empire out forever, despite his best efforts. Stopping the Council from talking with the representative of the Emperor would accomplish nothing, for they were like treacherous insects, skittering and scurrying in the places where they were least likely to be seen. Intrigue whispered around him, like vague stirrings of the wind, and he felt the tenuous flutters of the Force, warning him.
Valorum's doubts about his safety, and the causes behind the danger, were both prudent and shrewd. Privately, Kenobi had his own doubts as to who would rule when the Sith completed their business. So close to falling apart, and yet, he must find a way to keep the whole together...
Slight movement behind him drew his attention as Valorum slipped quietly into place next to him, a place the Chancellor had inhabited for many years, like a ghost of honor at his side. He favored the man with a brief smile, one that was not returned. Instead, Valorum turned to him with a serious expression.
"You look as though you haven't slept in a cycle, Valorum." Obi-Wan grasped his advisor's arm, asking a question without words.
"Unfortunately, it's too late to remedy that situation," Valorum answered, directing his gaze skyward for a moment before patting the Regent's fingers. It was awkwardly comforting, and too familiar, and Kenobi tightened his grip in acknowledgment for a fraction of a second before withdrawing his hand. "The Council is headed this way. I don't think they were at all pleased to be forced to be present for this...historic occasion."
Kenobi chuckled. "And Anakin?"
"Also on his way up. I saw him at the lower landing, shouting at one of his guards." Valorum's voice dropped to a confidential hush. "The boy grows more irritable by the day. Confining him this way has had an ill effect on him."
"If it saves his life, I don't care how ill-tempered he becomes."
"Agreed," Valorum nodded. A hint of a smile finally appeared on his face. "He was already rather difficult. One must listen quite closely in order to tell the difference."
Obi-Wan looked at Valorum, startled and amused. "Humor, Chancellor? I don't believe it."
Voices echoed down the wide hallways in their direction, and a crowd tumbled out into the open space - Council members, guards, and assorted personnel. The sudden riot of noise and movement stripped away the momentary peace the two men had enjoyed. Kenobi turned slightly to meet the approaching Council, led by the grim and tightlipped Mace Windu.
"How far away are they?" Windu asked Valorum, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robe nervously.
"They are on approach; we have given them clearance to land. They'll arrive any moment." Valorum turned away and began to scan the sky.
Windu dropped his gaze to Obi-Wan. "You have not done all you could do to make this a successful inspection." The euphemism made Kenobi smile once again, which brought an equivalent frown to Windu's face. "This is a crucial step in our development as a power within the Empire, Excellency! I would think-"
"Please, don't," Obi-Wan interjected tiredly. "Don't think. Don't express your opinions to the Sith. And most of all, don't interfere in the course of things."
"I have an obligation to the heir, and I will carry out my duty." Windu's anger permeated his words, seeping through like a foul toxin. Obi-Wan could not fail to miss the double meaning in the statement.
"I know where your duty lies, Ambassador. As do all here, I've no doubt." Shuffling noises from the others confirmed that his barb had hit the mark.
"Your charge has arrived, Excellency." Ki-Adi was watching Anakin approach, flanked by his contingent of protectors. "None too happy."
"There's little to be pleased about this day." Councilor Gallia's soft voice lent gravity to the moment, a restatement of inescapable truth.
Anakin pulled up next to the group, glowering at them as they bowed. Obi-Wan stretched out a welcoming arm and gathered the boy in, pushing him slightly ahead of the rest of the party. "Your place is in front, Anakin. They are coming to meet you, after all."
"This is my world," Anakin said heedlessly, grounded only in his pride of ownership. He looked up at Kenobi plaintively. "I want you to be proud of me, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan exchanged glances with Valorum over the boy's head. "I'm sure you will conduct yourself well, Highness," Obi-Wan murmured.
Engines sounded above, growing louder as the dark craft appeared near the thick line of trees encircling the fortress, and the invisible perimeter shield sparkled into visibility for a moment as it was deactivated. Obi-Wan attempted to focus on the sleek lines of the craft, to appreciate the engineering of it, but he was quickly preoccupied by the strong, sudden sensation of Darkness washing over him.
Anakin shrank back against his hip, gasping. "Don't be afraid, Anakin. You must be strong now. Remember what I've taught you."
Wordlessly, the boy groped for the Force; Kenobi could feel him grappling for control, pulling energy to him, blanketing himself with the small bit of skill he possessed. "Good," Obi-Wan whispered, reaching for a bit of that same control. The power of the Dark Side emanated strongly from within the ship; it had been years since he had felt anything similar. Not since he was called before the Emperor to withstand his inspection, to be determined suitable to rule Taganor...the memory made him shiver with repressed revulsion.
"Shall I send the honor guard to line the ramp?" Valorum asked thoughtfully, eyes fixed on Obi-Wan's face.
Obi-Wan shook off the feeling of suffocation with great effort. "No. They'll have their own cadre; ours will be in the way."
Valorum nodded slowly, and together they watched the ship settle onto the landing pad, a sleek metallic mass, the black of its exterior broken only by the silver symbols used to paint its name on the side.
"Reign of Terror," Valorum read aloud.
"Wonderful," Councilor Mundi hissed.
"Quiet, all of you." Kenobi's command silenced the group.
The ramp eased its way down, peeling open the hull and exposing the entryway, which was immediately filled by troops clad in black, carrying more weapons than any of them had seen since Taganor had been converted from a hive of smugglers and scum into a world free of visible blight. At the end of the column, a tall figure clad in the black robes of a Sith apprentice moved gracefully, hands tucked into his sleeves, his gait that of a man who was at his leisure and in no hurry.
Obi-Wan's brows drew together as he watched his guest approach. There was something so familiar, something...wrong...but before he could identify the creeping suspicion, the column had halted and the Sith Lord was before them.
Without hesitation, all but Anakin and Obi-Wan had dropped to one knee; Anakin and Obi-Wan bowed deeply, holding their position until the gesture of respect was returned.
"You will kneel also, Kenobi. Your position here is not equal to mine. Perhaps that has escaped your notice." The voice was rich and deep, brimming with self-satisfied amusement, and Obi-Wan recognized it instantly. He could not have forgotten it; the voice haunted him in his dreams. Obi-Wan dropped to one knee, folding his hands, and bowed his head with obeisance.
"Little Anakin Skywalker, heir to Taganor's throne." The Sith turned his attention to the boy. "Have I your welcome?"
"You have, Excellency. We are honored by your visit." Anakin mustered the correct decorum from somewhere within, and the Sith Lord nodded, pleased.
"Then I shall make myself at home here. There is much of interest to explore on Taganor. I suspect I shall not leave here before I have seen all there is to see...until I know all there is to know."
Obi-Wan raised his head and looked into the visage of hate. Dark eyes bored into him, promising many horrors in the battle of wills to come. Nevertheless, there was a duty to be done. He swallowed his pride and spoke the words.
"Welcome, Lord Chun."
End Chapter Eight
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