Circle of healing

V.

When faced with my demons
I clothe them and feed them
And I smile, yes I smile
As they’re taking me over
-- Matthews/Roberts --

***

Each priestess joined the strange, unfamiliar chant - no real melody, rather some kind of meditative murmur in which single tones were woven in. Quiet flooded Obi-Wan’s tired mind. Along this quiet came a warmth he hadn’t dared to believe in anymore.
Once again he sat in the lotus position in the middle of the circle of priestess’s, the queen’s head cradled in his lap and his hands laying on her temples. To a bystander this may have looked like the picture of utter trust between two young people in love. Closer observation revealed the deep concentration of all involved in the ritual.
The queen’s fragile body was even cooler than he had remembered it. The ritual white garments they had clad her in seemed much too fine and he regretted not being able to reach out with the force to share a little bit of his body-heat with her. But the high priestess had made that much clear: If he wanted to save the queen, he had to abstain from using the force, and all the abilities that came with it for as long as the ritual lasted. If he would reach to its power, if he attempted to use it in any way - he would lose the queen.
Obi-Wan didn’t like the thought. He was so used to the constant presence of the force in his life, that he was scared to suddenly be cut off from it. He remembered Yoda’s favourite saying about this kind of fear and he tried to purge himself from all those negative emotions, before the ritual started. Nevertheless a nagging insecurity remained.
The soft murmuring and chanting grew louder and shrouded Obi-Wan in a velvety cloak of words and tones that carried his thoughts with it and left behind his mind in perfect calm. His eyes closed and he started to sink.

***

The white desert was endless.
Padmé still walked step by step through the high snowdrifts on the quest for something she wasn’t sure she would ever find. She hardly recognised the cold that had found its place in her body any longer.
Everything had become numb, nothing made sense anymore. It grew difficult to form coherent thoughts, it was just as if her thoughts were being spread all over the distance and were taken away by the increasing wind.
One step.
Another step.
Deeper and deeper the ice-encrusted surface of the snow cut into her soft feet.
One step.
Another step.
If she concentrated on nothing else, she might arrive some time. Wherever she was walking.
One step.
Another step.
The wind turned and seized her long hair, causing it to fly wildly around her face and making it impossible for her to see. She stopped for a few minutes to tame her hair. When she risked a glance on her feet, she felt a strange fascination ascent inside of her.
The spotless white snow began to turn red where she stood. Like the twigs of a tiny tree the red of her blood pulled through the crystal purity of the snow. Then again a flower formed itself, at last a scarlet star became visible in the perfect white.
So beautiful. So indescribably beautiful.
The gleaming purity blurred in front of her eyes and she lost consciousness.

***

The blinding brightness was still there. It penetrated her closed eyelids and brought back the painful truth of still being caught in the nightmare.
But one change was evident. She wasn’t quite as horribly cold as she was before. Hadn’t she given up the hope of ever finding another human being in this icy desert a long time? She would have sworn someone was sitting right beside her.
She carefully tried to sit up. A piercing pain in her back caused her to fail. No matter how desperately she tried to remember what had happened and how she had gotten into this predominantly icy reality – it was no use. The brightness blinded more than just her eyes and the silence deafened her thoughts. A small defeated sight escaped her lips. She had had to be strong so many times, there had always been others who had depended on her, people who had placed the fate of the whole planet in her hands.
But now, when the thing she needed most was someone she could look up to, someone who was strong for her and gave her back her strength and her bravery – she was as terribly alone as she had ever been before in her whole life.
The wind picked up even more and exposed her to another biting wave of cold. The warmth she had imagined to be there was being carried away and left a painful emptiness behind.
Padmé didn’t know how much longer she would be able to endure this. Fatigue gnawed at her. Sleep promised deceitful safety. But even if the safety was deceitful - what difference did it make? The hope she had been clinging to so wildly in the beginning had now died away like a fragile flower in the midday heat.
Suddenly the wind lost some of its power and the warmth returned.
Was it more than a hallucination? Who was there?
She kept her eyes closed tightly, too much pain was caused by the blinding light, and she feared what she would see. Whatever it was - it didn’t make any noises, just then and then she heard deep intakes of breath. What if a wild animal had found her? Wasn’t it more sensible to pretend to be dead? But if it really was a wild animal, wouldn’t it move much noisier? What sense was there for it to move so silently?
Her nearly frozen hands moved reluctant and shaking in the general direction of the radiating warmth. Her heart beat so fast that she thought she would go insane from the constant hammering. Her stomach had contracted into a single ball of fear.
Her hands had barely reached an obstacle, when they were seized and put under a heavy cloth together with the rest of her body, shielding her from the cold.
A familiar smell radiated from the cloth. A certain heaviness, accompanied by unobtrusive strength. Two strong hands started to tuck her under the cloth like a mummy. She couldn’t feel any violating thoughts behind those actions, but nevertheless she started to squirm when she felt a slight claustrophobia coming up.
"Do not move just yet, your majesty."
The soft voice that was dominated by strong accent sent a wave of enrapturing, nearly intoxicating relief and safety through her mind. Without paying any attention to the tender protests she sat up, grasped the hand that belonged to the voice and put it on her cheek. At the very least - this was real. She gingerly leaned into the touch and ventured an overly careful glance out of her hurting eyes. The face she saw would itself into her brain forever.
"Jedi Kenobi."

***

They had been walking side by side for quite some time now, in which he had to support the queen more and more. The shreds of his tunic that they had meagrely wound around her bare feet didn’t have the wanted effect, quite the opposite actually. They became wet and slowed the young woman’s steps even more.
Padmé wasn’t used to the constant cold. Naboo didn’t have anything like real winters and due to the time she had already spent here and that had weakened her more than she was ready to admit, she couldn’t even try to cope with it. The cold claimed its tribute.
The wind had grown into a storm they couldn’t escape anymore. The plain didn’t provide any safety, no hideaway to avoid the cruelly cold squalls. The only thing that was for sure was the fact that they needed some kind of protection from the storm if they wanted to survive.
Obi-Wan had heard many things about the ritual, had read about it, but this was nothing like what he had imagined. What did he have to do to save the queen’s life? Was he strong enough to make it?
The queen stumbled over a snowdrift and dropped to her knees before he could catch her. One look into her glassy eyes told him that they had gone too far already. Much too far for her condition.
Why hadn’t he realised that she had become weaker, that every single step held pure agony for her?
He painfully missed the force. This surely wouldn’t have happened had he had full access to the force. But he hadn’t.
"We stay here."
It was the least he could do under these circumstances.

***

Padmé watched with an indifferent face as the young Jedi started to dig a hole in the snow.
Her world consisted only of pain and cold, rational thoughts were gone and she yearned for the soft arms of unconsciousness. Maybe everything would happen really fast and she wouldn’t even realise the exact time she died from exposure.
Right in the middle of a wave of those thoughts she was interrupted by the Jedi taking her gently in his arms and placing her in the hole as carefully as he could. After that he started to erect a dome-shaped roof over it.
She watched him with numbed interest. A part of her was fascinated by the skilfulness the young man displayed in adapting to the surroundings, but the other part of her was just too exhausted to appreciate it fully.
When there was only a small opening left that led to the side that was facing away from the wind, Obi-Wan pushed himself in the small cave and closed this opening until there was only a small hole that would provide them with enough air. This self-made cave would only barely save them from dying from exposure, but at least it kept them safe from the storm that was already howling around the walls of their little fortress menacingly.
The queen was still awake when Obi-Wan carefully touched his hands to the snowroof.
"What will happen now, Jedi Kenobi?"
Her words nearly drowned in the howling of the storm.
‘I wished I knew an answer to that question’, Obi-Wan thought. Instead he said: "You should try to get a little sleep, your highness. You need to rest."
Padmé pulled the Jedi’s cloak up to her chin. "It’s so cold."
"I know."
"What about you?", she asked after a while.
"About me, your highness?"
Obi-Wan didn’t know what she was aiming at. The queen pointed her chin towards the cloak in which she was safely wrapped. "I mean, I took . . ."
Kenobi shook his head in dismissal. "You were in greater need of it than I was."
The answer was unsatisfactory.
"Does that make you immune to the cold?"
Of course it didn’t. How could it? But under no circumstance he could have kept wearing his cloak while the fine material of the ceremonial white garments was her only protection against the forces of nature. Couldn’t she see that herself?
Padmé guessed that this answer would remain unanswered. Sure, she was grateful for his noble action, but a bad conscience remained nevertheless.
It was plain to see that the Jedi was freezing. But remembering the headstrong way he had in leading discussions, she knew that it would make little sense to argue about that. For some reason Padmé was fairly certain that the Jedi would be the last one standing in a discussion like that.
"Couldn’t we share it?"
Obi-Wan slowly turned around and just looked at her. This glance made her regret that she had ever asked.
"I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . "
"Your offer is honourable, your highness. But I have to refuse."
‘Oh? Do you?’
He tried to quieten the voice in the back of his head and tried his best to give the queen a reassuring smile, even though that was probably the farthest thing from his mind. He was freezing, felt utterly helpless and had little hope left. But something was prohibiting him from accepting the queen’s offer, no matter how tempting the thought of as little more warmth may be.
It took him a long time to find the inner calm to finally fall asleep.

***

Saying or even thinking she knew what time of day it was would have been the most shameful lie in a long time. The gleaming hadn’t even stopped during the time her body made her believe it was night. There didn’t seem to be any darkness here, no shadow, not even the slightest indication of a shade in the light.
Brightness. Blinding. Gleaming. Painful.
They had resumed their walk, whether because of hoping to find a way out of the icy desert or just for remaining the status quo, Padmé didn’t know.
Kenobi didn’t talk.
An eternity had passed since their last conversation and the constant silence began to strain her already overtaxed nerves. Just a few days ago she never would have imagined to be able to suffer that much from the simple sounds of footsteps and a long absence of a conversation.
But out here the urge to hear a human voice became a condition that was similar to a withdrawal symptom. Despite the fact that she had to rely on his physical presence more and more to not stumble, there was nothing in his demeanour that would have made enduring all this any easier. Inwardly she scolded herself for not behaving appropriate for a queen, for not being stronger, for behaving like a silly child. She couldn’t let herself go like this.
With every dragging footstep she found new reasons for not venting the feelings that were piling up inside of her.
When she stumbled over a snow-covered notch in the ice for the umpteenth time, she stopped and pushed Kenobi’s arm away so hard that he nearly fell.
"I’m not going to do this any longer!" Her voice was as hard and cold as the wind over the desert. Obi-Wan stared into the sparkling brown eyes with amazement. Padmé didn’t avert her eyes, but locked her gaze with the Jedi’s, dared him, indicted him.
An extremely strong wind caught Obi-Wan’s tunic and ripped away what little warmth he had managed to produce while walking. Involuntarily he hugged himself close. The movement broke their gaze.
"Your highness?" He couldn’t find an explanation for the sudden wave of hostility he felt radiating off of the queen.
"Don’t look at me as if you didn’t know what I was talking about!"
Obi-Wan raised his eyes again to look at the queen questioningly. "I don’t, your highness."
Padmé herself couldn’t understand completely where this piled up anger was coming from, but she got the feeling as if a pressure valve had been opened and she couldn’t find a way to close it again.
"I’m tired of hiding my feelings. I’m tired of being lonely and having to bear all the responsibility. I’m tired of your silence. I’m tired of this place and the cold. I’m . . ." She walked a few steps away from him, instantly stumbling due to the lack of the physical support he had offered before.
Padmé sank to her knees and hit her fists angrily into the snow. In her throat a load scream begged to be released.
Obi-Wan watched the scene with growing irritation. He hadn’t spotted the signs of such a load of pent-up emotions in the queen, quite the opposite. So far she had endured everything with such a stoic calm that he admired her in silence.
But this . . . Was as unexpected as it was strong. A wave of anger swashed in his direction and rolled toward him with frightening speed. Why was she so terribly upset? What had triggered it?
Carefully he ventured a few steps in her direction, always being painfully aware that an unexpected movement could bring more of her anger to the surface.
"What’s wrong with you, great Jedi? Do I scare you? Doesn’t that fit into your pretty picture of me?"
He sank into the snow next to her and felt how cold it was even through the material of his breeches.
"Yes, your highness. It scares me."
Her gaze travelled restlessly between his face and the white desert.
"Why?"
Was this a serious question? Was it possible that she didn’t know why the darkness that she was emanating scared him and shook his very soul?
"You will answer me this time, Jedi."
Padmé watched the scenery strangely unattached from the outside. She could feel her mouth moving, she heard the words that were spoken in their crystal clear power, but she couldn’t explain where they were coming from. Every single word hurt Kenobi in a way she never willingly would have . . .
"The darkness, your highness", Kenobi interrupted her racing thoughts. "You emanate darkness." The horrible power of the words caused him to shiver slightly.
"The anger and the fear inside of you are opening your mind to the dark side of the force." On a whim he reached out for her hand and looked at her imploringly. "Don’t let yourself drown in those emotions. Don’t stray from the path of the light."
She pulled her hand away and gave a short, humourless laugh. "This advise is coming from you, Jedi Kenobi? Of all the people I've ever known, it’s coming from you?"
The pained expression that he couldn’t suppress fast enough showed her that her last sentence had had a full and crushing impact.
"And the path of the light?" With a wild movement of her right arm she embraced her surroundings. "If this is the light you’re talking about, Jedi Kenobi, then I don’t see why I shouldn’t leave it. Which mercy, which quiet, which peace and which happiness lies in the light?"
Still squinting against the never-ending brightness she glared at him.
"This light keeps none of its promises. It is cold and hostile to life. Do they teach you that as well in your precious Jedi-temple? Do they teach you that the light can be just as cruel as the darkness? Do they teach you to endure everything this light asks of you? Do they teach you, Jedi Kenobi?"
Obi-Wan’s head was ringing under the bulk of questions that were being shot at him, half spoken, half yelled. He had been taught to handle situations like this. The best defences against attacks like this were friendliness and calm. And everything would have been so much easier, had this advise been given to another person. But it was his task to solve the situation and he felt helplessly on the mercy of his own mind. The burning passion behind the queen’s words rattled him thoroughly.
"We are being taught to submit and give ourselves to the light completely", he answered simply.
A change flickered in the queen’s eyes.
"How did you feel when this submission meant seeing Qui-Gon die?"
Padmé suddenly was scared of herself. She had had this hidden sword in the back of her hand all the time. But never – never had she intended to use it.
The effect was correspondingly devastating. Obi-Wan’s calm and quiet mask slipped and left behind white-hot pain that was written plainly all over his face.
Still caught in the unreal state that prohibited a willing control of her actions, Padmé could only watch this powerful sword of words slashing Kenobi’s heart with a frightening precision.
"What gives you the right?" Kenobi squeezed out between clenched teeth.
His eyes were nearly black from pain and suppressed rage. He rose and walked a few steps in the icy desert. There his knees gave way and he sank to the ground - his head cradled in his hands.

***

When she left the unreal state of mind she had been trapped in, Padmé felt the undeniable urge to run towards the Jedi and wrap her arms around him in a feeble attempt to make even all the things she had said when she hadn’t been in control of herself.
If this was possible at all, the simple but deep-set sentence had destroyed even more in Obi-Wan Kenobi. The snow, carried by the wind, had piled up around his legs and he was no longer moving.
With his head on his knees and the torn tunic fluttering wildly around him, he looked like a grotesque statue that had been placed there by an eccentric artist to find out if it would hold its ground against the wrath of nature.
Even without the help of the connection they had shared, she had felt the darkness embracing him in an attempt to devour him. There was only so little left that separated him from losing himself completely.
Tear of anger were burning in her eyes.
This was her fault.
Like so often before she had just made matters worse, had destroyed all the efforts he had made so far.
His suppressed question echoed in her mind. "What gives you the right?"
Well, what? What gave her the right to act as his judge? What gave her the right to doubt and make fun of everything he believed in?
She rose shakily and ventured a few steps in his direction – but she stood rooted to the spot before she reached him. Now what? What could she possibly say to overcome the last moments?
‘I’m sorry, Jedi Kenobi, I didn’t mean it?’ A bitter laugh rose inside of her. Because that would be so much of a help. He would feel so much better after hearing her say this.
The cold got even more unbearable by the minute. It was nearly as if it was accumulating to drain her of her last bit of strength.
Something got her attention and rattled her deeply.
The fine snow-flakes on his hands and his hair weren't melting anymore.
"There is no need for you to worry, your highness." His voice was barely audible over the howling of the storm. He kept on being completely motionless, but her unspoken question – her worst nightmare – had been answered.
She didn’t quite understand why he had known of her worries, but that wasn’t important now. Exhaustion, cold and the inner strife began to take their toll.
The snow fell more slowly and the storm began to die down. Soon there was only a soft breeze left that swept over her frozen features nearly tenderly. Just as her mother used to do. Just as her mother . . .
"Far too seldom, wasn’t it, your highness?"
Padmé shook her head against the voice that suddenly invaded her mind and raised the chocolate-coloured eyes.
"I beg your pardon?"
When had the Jedi taken up the annoying habit of speaking in riddles? Wasn’t everything complicated enough already?
"You would have liked them to be there for you more often, right?"
She listened to the Jedi’s words with a tension that arose from the fact of sensing that the following sentences could hurt her more than she could take.
‘Stop this.’
But nevertheless: Even though, or maybe just because of the danger, she found herself captivated by his words and the penetrating glance of his now icy-blue eyes.
‘End this right now!’
No chance of evading.
‘But why? What does it matter?’
But also no will to evade. She had to hand him the stone that would be her downfall.
‘Don’t let it happen. Don’t give him this much power over you.’
Nothing stopped her. "Who, Jedi?"
"Your mother. Friends. Anybody. Anybody who would have chased away the loneliness. Anybody who would have filled the emptiness inside of you."
She had known it. She had been prepared for it and every single part of her being had screamed and protested against allowing him to take this last step. Then why was she so surprised by the enormous power of the pain those simple words revealed?
The world around her grew quiet and peaceful. The gleaming became a little weaker and lost some of its relentlessness.
"Do you see the snow-flakes, Jedi Kenobi?" She put her head back and felt how single flakes drifted to her face. With a featherlight touch they laid down to die only seconds later.
"They come to me even though it is their death." She held out her hand and watched the same things happening there. "My touch brings them death. But nevertheless they keep coming to me."
A smile played around her pale lips. "Isn’t that a beautiful metaphor for my life?"
Her eyes had lost all the hate and the open rage Obi-Wan had seen there shortly before. Clear and sparkling they watched the growing snow-flakes dreamily. A strange calm was radiating off of the queen – just like the perfect calm in the middle of a severe storm. Peaceful and untouched, nearly happy – but even because of those facts as morbid and terrifying as nothing else. The words died on Obi-Wan’s lips. Nothing he could have said seemed appropriate to him.
"But maybe . . ." Her voice broke and she looked into the snowy plains pensively. "Maybe it is different this time."
She rose with a royal movement. "Maybe Qui-Gon will be the last one who suffered from this curse."
The mentioning of his mentor’s name caused Obi-Wan to freeze in his movements.
‘Why?’
Inwardly he screamed in frustration. He had just managed to push aside all the dark waves. Why did she manage to destroy everything by just mentioning his name?
His head and his back started to hurt when a hard gust of wind hit him like a brutal punch and drove tiny snow-flakes like needles into his eyes. It took a while until he could see at least vaguely painlessly.
When he looked up the next time, the queen was gone. Only half blown away traces were left in the snow.

***

 

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