Would you dance, if I asked you to dance?

Queen Amadala, standing on the inner balcony of the summer palace, looked out
over the crowd, searching for one tall form. She spotted him in his dark
burgundy formal robes, the man who seemed to hold her mind captive. She
watched Anakin move among the crowd. He was a consummate socialite, always
ready with a smile, a light joke or a friendly ear. She sensed that he used
this as a mask, a shield to present to the world to keep his inner self
private. ~Do you still feel the cold, my deep one?~ she wondered to herself.

The band ended the quiet music they had been playing to ease conversation,
and Queen Amadala heard the flourish of trumpets that heralded the beginning
of the dancing. This was her formal coronation party, the anniversary of her
election as ruler in the year she attained her majority. As such, she was
acutely aware of the political ramifications of her every action this
evening. It was her job to make sure that everyone who needed to be seen
with her was spoken to, everyone who could benefit her planet was given favor
and honor. She was very good at it, this game of politics. ~So why,~ she
wondered, ~is this one thing so hard?~

She knew that this first dance would be the greatest favor she could bestow
this night. For once, she was going to take something for herself. For this
one short moment, she would follow her heart. As the Queen fingered a small
japor carving she wore around her wrist, covered by the trailing sleeves of
her formal gown, the crowd hushed and looked up at her. She descended the
long stair sedately, moving slowly. ~Not because I'm afraid, but because
it's more regal.~ she told herself desperately, wishing she could believe it.
Her heart was pounding and she fought to keep her breathing steady as Anakin
watched her approach him, his eyes capturing hers with a steady seriousness.
~Please,~ she thought ~please.~

Finally, she stood in front of this hansom enigma, this deep, still man who
lived in her dreams. She looked up at him and, though she tried for a light
tone, asked in a trembling whisper, "May I have this dance?" The smile he
gave her as he took her hand would warm many nights to come.

********************************************

Or would you run, and never look back?

Lythia moved silently down the halls of the Jedi temple, contemplating his
upcoming trial. He had studied for years to become a Knight, but something
still didn't feel right. For all Yoda's talk of "seeing through" him, no one
seemed to notice the dark corner of his soul that all the power of the Force
he could access would not expunge. His master was kind and gentle, but never
seemed to quite confront that part of him that Lythia wanted gone the most.
Lythia's strength in the Force was limited, but that didn't seem to matter to
the Counsel. Nor, really, did it matter to Lythia.

What did matter was the peace that seemed to elude him. Everyone seemed so
*sure* of everything. So intent was he on his thoughts, he did not notice at
first that someone had come up to pace beside him. ~Force blind~ he berated
himself, not for the first time, nor he suspected, the last. Sneaking a look
from the corner of his eye, he drew in his breath as he realized who his
companion was. Lythia almost groaned aloud at the timing. Of all the
Masters who could have turned up now, it was the one who haunted his nights,
snaked through his fantasies.

~There is no desire, there is no desire, there is no desire,~ he repeated the
mantra to himself, ~there is only...~ Lythia blanked. He couldn't remember
what there was instead of desire, not with the commanding presence beside
him. The Master was silent, until they reached Lythia's door. Then he heard
the voice he dreamed of, soft and low speak one phrase. "We all care for
you, Lythia. The Force be with you." Eyes downcast, he felt a hand caress
his cheek, then the other swept away in a swirl of robes.

Lythia entered his quarters in a daze, which turned into anger and
frustration. That couldn't have been what it felt like. It had to be a
test. Yes, that was it, the first test. They knew of his attraction, and
were using it to test him. He felt himself growing cold. If this is what
the tests were like, he couldn't pass. The dark, hot core of anger in him
grew. Then his eyes fell on a candle, the gift of his Master on his
thirteenth birthday. Such gifts were given with much thought and care, as
such he had never lit it, making sure it was displayed in his quarters so
that it was visible anywhere in the room. His anger turned to brooding. ~I
know they would not use my love to test me so. I cannot hide my feelings any
longer.~ With calm resolve, he knew what he must do.

The next morning, when his Master entered his quarters, all that remained was
a shorn Padawan braid, coiled around the stub of a burnt out candle.

**********************************************
Would you cry, if you saw me crying?

Padawan Xanatos didn't know why he was hiding. He had heard the news a few
hours ago, with the rest of his year-mates. They had listened quietly as
Yoda described the incident, they had each said a few words about the slain
Masters and their Padawans. Some took it better than others, most were far
enough along in their studies that they were able to release the emotions
into the Force.

Xanatos thought he was dealing well with it. It wasn't as if Xanatos had
known any of them personally, the closest he had been was with one girl a
year ahead of him; they had helped each other learn tumbling techniques. But
when he went to bed for the evening, he found he couldn't sleep. He also
could not find his Master, Qui-Gon, the man whom he was supposed to turn to
for help. So he walked the halls of the temple, and found himself in the
Jedi Counsel Chamber.

He had always regarded this room with reverance, and a little bit of awe. He
knew how un-Jedi like that feeling was, but he could not help himself. He
stood inside the room quietly for a few moments, then walked over and ran a
hand over each of the chairs, a bit reverently. He ended up by Yaraea's
chair, tall and broad. With a capriciousness that in a non-Padawan would be
called a whim, he scrunched down behind it. He sat there awhile, soothed by
the darker, tight space. Then someone entered.

He didn't need to look to know it was Mace. The counsel member's Force
signature was too tightly controled to shine like a beacon, but it inevitably
radiated from him unmistakably. Xanatos kept still, not really sure why. He
turned his senses out, trying to feel the room through the Force. Mace moved
with quiet grace to his seat, and sank into it, hand to his lips in a quiet,
contempletave pose. If Mace had bothered to look at all, Xanatos knew he
would have been discovered. Apparently, Mace had other things on his mind.

Xanatos was shocked at the intensity of the emotion rolling into the Force.
Although his outward body held it's serene pose, waves of grief and sadness
radiated from Mace. The only clue to his anguish was a line of tears,
tracing their way down his otherwise calm, immoble face. ~This is not the
way it's supposed to work.~ Xanatos thought in stunned amazement. He was
still young enough to think of the Senior Counsel Member as other than human,
always in control, so in tune with the Force that he was almost an extension
of it's will. ~That's how he should be! Shouldn't he?~ Why did they teach
the release of emotion if they couldn't follow it themselves?

Each sat alone with their troubled thoughts, pleading with the living Force
for answers, neither able to center enough to hear a desperately needed
reply. Then Qui-Gon walked in. Xanatos could feel Mace freeze and lock his
emotions away; to Xanatos it felt like curtains being drawn quickly, shade
from the searing sun. He felt a moment's relief, now that he knew where
Qui-Gon was, he could talk to him, his Master would give him all the answers
and make everything right again.

Qui-Gon walked to Mace, and knelt before him. Cupping Mace's face, he wiped
the tears with a gentle motion. Xanatos felt a sharp twist of jealousy when
he saw Qui-Gon embrace his friend, letting Mace lean into him. He remembered
they were year-mates, and the rumors they had been best friends, inseparable
really, long ago. Qui-Gon stood, pulling the other man up with him. He led
Mace to the door, all the while keeping his arm around his friend, his face
full of caring and compassion. No words were needed between the two who had
been so close.

After they left the room, Xanatos put his head on his knees and wept.

************************************************8

**********************************************

Would you save my soul tonight?

Darth Vader moved down the corridor, restless aprehension coiled tightly
around him. Luke was here, their reunion was at hand. He slowed his steps
as he thought of the only time he had been face to face with his son.

Obi Wan thought he had hidden the boy, covered him with the Force. He was
wrong. Darth Vader found him easily, came to claim his son. ~The child is
*mine*,~ he thought angrily, ~no one will keep me from taking what is mine.~
It was a moment's work to sink Owen and Beru into a deep sleep, and then
Darth Vader moved into Luke's room, gloating over visions of ruling an empire
with his son as his right hand.

Quickly, the visions turned into something else. Visions of Qui Gon Jinn
intruded into Vader's thoughts. Qui Gon smiling at him. Qui Gon ruffling his
hair in affection. Crouching down to look intently into his eyes. Treating
him with respect. The pride and love shining in Qui Gon's eyes as Anakin
understood some abstract point, achieved some physical milestone. The closer
Vader got to Luke, the stronger the visions became.

Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, whose very name instilled unease and fear
throughout the Empire, backed out of the room trembling with terror. From
that moment on, Vader worked as hard as Obi Wan to keep Luke from the
Emperor's notice.

The effort, of course, was doomed. Darth Vader knew it would be, but the
longer he could avoid the inevitable meeting the better prepared he could be
for it. And now, the moment was almost here, and he could *feel* Qui Gon
through the Force. ~This is wrong.~ he thought angrily, ~I didn't even know
Qui Gon. Only that weak fool Anakin knew him. And Anakin died many years
ago.~ Vader drew strength from his anger, turning it into fiery rage. He
used the Force to focus that rage into a beam of power, filling his spirit
with dark energy.

~But, if Luke could be turned!~ he remembered suddenly. Deep in his psyche,
Darth Vader knew that if Luke turned to the dark side, Anakin would finally
and forever be exorcised, the last remnants of that naive simpleton would be
swept away. With it would go the power of Qui Gon, the first person who had
treated him with respect and trust. Even, at times, love. Darth Vader could
at last be at peace with his choice.

Drawing the power of the Dark around him, the Sith Lord entered the carbon
freeze chamber to await his son.

********************************************************

Updated 4/10/02