A Flow'r, Once Fallen/Part 2

"His Majesty will be with you as soon as possible, Master Jedi," an Alderaanian Royal Guard assured Tirien. "In the meantime, we hope you'll find the gardens relaxing and conducive to meditation."

Having meditated their way to Brentaal and most of the short trip to Alderaan as well, Narasi hoped against hope that Tirien thought that was enough for the moment. Aloud, he said only, "Thank you. We'll await His Majesty's pleasure."

The sun was shining on the city of Aldera, but the wind blowing down into the Aldera Royal Palace was cool and refreshing, with just a hint of the seaside smell that came from the lake that surrounded the city. Narasi had been fascinated by the view of the city on the way down—a city on an island in the center of a caldera lake. She had wondered aloud whether the volcanic heat would boil the lake and leave the city sweltering, but Tirien had only chuckled, and now Narasi knew why. She had never seen a planet so beautiful, and while she had admittedly spent much of her apprenticeship going from one trouble spot to another, she thought she could live until she was a Jedi Master on the High Council and still not find many worlds to compete with Alderaan.

Master Arodion had called it correctly—though the Alderaanians had not been expecting them, the welcome to Aldera had been warm, and the palace guards had invited them in without preamble. Narasi felt a little unusual not carrying her knife, but Tirien had explained that, apart from police and the royal guards themselves, no weapons were permitted on Alderaan; their lightsabers had been allowed only as a courtesy extended to Jedi. As time went on, though, it was becoming more comfortable; Alderaan felt of peace in a way she had never quite experienced before, even in the Jedi Temple.

Looking up, she saw something flying through the sky; she took it for a large bird until she saw a figure riding it. Two more riderless trailed behind to make a V. "What's that?"

Tirien looked up. "A thranta. I've seen them elsewhere, but they're native to Alderaan."

Narasi watched the thrantas until they soared out of sight beyond the palace wall, wondering if she would get the chance to ride one—and if she would want it if offered. She loved flying, but flying hundreds of meters up on something with a mind of its own was a different prospect altogether.

"Narasi, come look at these."

She wandered over to where Tirien stood before a hedge full of violet flowers. The petals of each turned gold near the core, creating five-pointed stars, but no two were identical. Narasi touched the leaves, remembering the ch'hala tree on Taanab; she wondered if the Jedi chapter house had been restored and a new tree planted. The flowers did not change color at her touch, but she felt their tiny life energies in the Force.

"Each one unique," Tirien mused; Narasi wondered if the Living Force had brought them to the same thought. "Think about it: this species of flower has grown on Alderaan for tens of thousands of years. Aldera Palace has been here thousands at least.  This garden has probably been here most of that time.  All of those thousands and thousands of years, generation after generation, to produce each of these unique blooms, that will never come again."

He gestured with his off hand. "And yet when winter comes, each of these blossoms will wither and die. New ones will come to replace them in the spring, but these will be gone.  Here and beautiful for a moment, a wink of the galaxy's eye, and then gone.


 * I saw a flow'r, once fallen, blooms no more
 * Its incense never scents again the air.
 * It snatches but a moment ere its charms
 * And beauty fade except in memory.

Narasi's eyes widened. "What was that?"

"It's from a poem—'I walked one evening through a garden green'. Read it some time." He studied her. "Remind you of anything?"

Always the tests. Of course the flowers couldn't just be pretty. "Something metaphorical?" When Tirien raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, Narasi gave it some more thought, rolling his words over in her wind, trying not to think about the flowers. "…life. Not just their lives, I mean, like, all life."

"Very good," Tirien said. He touched the hedge. "Each leaf is like a life in the galaxy—each feeds the Force and draws life from it even as it feeds that energy. But the Jedi are the flowers; we're not objectively more important, but people see us that way, and we have special traits that make us stand out."

He pointed to a few blossoms that had fallen from the hedge to the grass. "And sometimes, some of us fall."

Narasi cocked her head, nodding. "And once we fall, there's no coming back."

Tirien frowned. "All right, it's not a perfect metaphor."

"You know, they're pretty too," Narasi remarked. When Tirien chuckled, she added, "I'll let you contemplate, Master—I'm going to go see some of the other unique lives."

He waved a hand in dismissal, taking a seat right on the grass and studying the violet flowers as Narasi wandered out around the hedge. The gardens were neat and orderly, rows of hedges followed by cascades of flowers and pruned trees. Narasi saw a pair of royal guards lounging against a stone archway, watching with amused expressions. She followed their eyes to a quivering rose bush. Curious, Narasi walked over and prodded the bush with one hand.

There was a squeal and a shower of leaves, and a little girl exploded out of the bush onto the pathway, covered in leaves and little scratches. "Found me! Now it's…hey!  Who are you?!"

Narasi blinked. "I'm Narasi. Who are you?"

She held her chin up. "I'm Princess Elyria of the House of Organa! What are you doing in my garden, Narasi?!"

From the archway, one of the royal guards called, "Is that how we talk to guests, Your Highness?"

Elyria crossed her arms, sticking out her lower lip. "I gueeeeeeeess not." She heaved an elaborate sigh. "Welcome to Alderaan, Narasi."

Princess Elyria had dark hair bound in pigtails, though the few loose strands twisted enough that Narasi thought it had to be naturally curly. She had the tan of a pale being who spends considerable time in the sun, and dark eyes so like Prince Taylo's that Narasi almost started. She did not wear the dress Narasi would have envisioned for a little princess, but sturdy boots and a skort and shirt combo in shades of blue and gray that looked almost like a school uniform.

Narasi bowed, pressing her lips together so her smile didn't get too wide. "Thank you, Your Highness. So this is your garden?"

"Yep. Well, it's my family's garden, but Dad says I like it so much that I can have it when I grow up.  I'll be queen then!"

"You will?"

"Yep. My dad's the king."

Narasi swallowed. "Well, you have a very pretty garden, Your Highness."

"Thanks!" She smiled for the first time, and her cheeks dimpled. "How come you're here?"

"My master and I came to talk to your dad."

"Master?"

"I'm a Jedi."

Elyria's eyes widened to circles. "Whooooooooa."

Narasi grinned. "Wizard, right?"

"Yeah! So you fight the Sith and stuff?" Narasi only nodded, but Elyria seemed enthused. "My dad says they're the bad guys, but Jedi are the good guys and they protect us."

Narasi nodded again, firmer. "Yep. We protect all the good guys, all over the galaxy."

"Neat! Are you gonna stay?  Can you tell me about the galaxy?"

Narasi was saved having to respond when a feminized mechanical voice called, "There you are, Your Highness! You simply must not run off like that."

Elyria slumped with her arms hung down. "Awww."

A protocol droid tottered over; Narasi had gotten so used to the galaxy-wide androgynous design that she did a double-take when she saw this droid shaped with female-style curves. "You know you have more lessons this morning, Your Highness. Where—"

The droid stopped, looking at Narasi. "Oh good gracious, a guest! I do apologize for Her Highness's appearance, worthy visitor…Princess Elyria, look at all the dirt you've gotten on your outfit…"

Elyria walked over and, to Narasi's surprise, took Narasi by the hand and raised her chin defiantly. "This is my friend Narasi! She's a Jedi Knight, so you'd better be nice to her, Beady!"

The droid studied Narasi more closely. "A Jedi Knight?"

Narasi cleared her through. "Er…I'm actually just…" She thought of Chancellor Phynong with a pang of sadness, but corrected herself, "I'm a Padawan."

"A Padawan? And where is your master, Padawan Narasi?"

"Here," Tirien called, and Narasi looked over her shoulder to see him approaching from the hedge. His eyes fell on Narasi holding hands with Elyria, but he made no comment. "I'm Tirien Kal-Di; I'm a Jedi Knight. The High Council of the Jedi Order has sent us here to see King Organa."

Narasi rather thought he was padding his wording to make an impression, and it apparently worked, for the droid said, "Oh, I see. Well, you are both most welcome here, Master Jedi.  I apologize if the princess or I have disturbed your contemplations."

"Not at all," Narasi said before Tirien could. Squeezing Elyria's hand, she said, "We were having a good talk, right?"

"Right! Beady, Narasi's coming to lessons with me."

"I'm very sorry, Your Highness," Tirien said, and though Narasi sensed his amusement, no hint of it cracked his grave visage. "I'm afraid I need Narasi here with me for the moment."

Elyria let go of Narasi's hand to cross her arms and scowl up at Tirien with her dark eyes narrowed, and it could not have been plainer that she was about to command Tirien to let Narasi stay. Tirien arched an eyebrow, but Narasi said, "I have to stay with my master right now, Your Highness, but maybe we can talk later if your dad says it's okay."

Elyria narrowed her eyes to slits and said, "Hmmmm."

"If you're well-behaved for the remainder of your lessons today, Your Highness, then perhaps your father will grant his permission," Beady added. "And that starts with getting yourself cleaned up."

The young princess rolled her eyes, but patted her outfit with her palms to knock leaves free. Narasi knelt to assist her; she noticed a few leaves dropping off of their own volition and saw Tirien making tiny swatting gestures with his fingertips. When she was de-leafed, Elyria nodded, then picked up a flower she had knocked off the bush. "I'm gonna take my flower with me."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Elyria nodded, then stuck the flower behind one ear. She jogged to Beady's side, but the flower promptly fell out, and she frowned. Narasi picked it up. "Here, let me."

She tucked it back behind the princess's ear, but stuck the stem through her pigtail. Elyria jumped up and down on the spot and grinned when the rose did not fall; Narasi saw a hole in her smile where one of her baby teeth had fallen out. "Perfect! You know what, you can have a flower too!"

She plucked a second rose right from the bush, ignoring Beady's remonstrance, and stuck it behind Narasi's ear, her little fingers working to keep it there. "Your ears are weird."

Beady pointed a metal finger at her. "Princess Elyria Organa, what an outrageous and hurtful thing to say! You must apologize at once!"

Elyria stopped, looking at Narasi with the first hint of doubt she had yet shown. "Did I hurt your feelings? I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay," Narasi said, giving her a smile. "I'm just different than you, that's all. You've never met somebody like me?"

"Uh-uh."

On the whole, that's probably a good thing… Narasi had to work to keep her smile for a second. "Well, now you have! But it might not stay, my hair isn't as long as yours is, Your Highness…"

"Nah," Elyria said, returning to her task. "I got a spot…right…here!"

And she stuck the stem of the rose through Narasi's Padawan braid. Wedging it in before Narasi could do anything more than blink in surprise, she got the rose petals right up to the upper curve of Narasi's ear and nodded in satisfaction. "There! How come your braid is so little?"

"Well, it's—" Narasi almost launched into an explanation when Tirien touched her shoulder. "I'll tell you later—if you're good at your lessons."

Elyria grunted, but raised her hand in a little formal wave. "Okay. Good morning Narasi and Jedi."

"Master Jedi, Your Highness," Beady corrected.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Tirien said, bowing.

"Study hard, Princess Elyria," Narasi added.

She watched the princess go and got back to her feet. Elyria's royal guards drifted after her, but they showed none of the almost-clingy wariness she had seen in Chancellor Phnyong's Blue Guards, or even the protective services that had attended various dignitaries they had encountered. She turned to find Tirien's yellow eyes on the flower over her ear, one side of his mouth curving up.

"Not one word about my flower, Master."

"I wouldn't dream of it…"

Narasi hissed in the back of her throat, and Tirien smirked. Pointing the way Elyria had disappeared, she said, "They're not as tense as I'd've thought. Her guards, I mean."

Tirien nodded, looking more serious. "Alderaan is very different from Coruscant. They have a tradition of peacefulness."

"Like Caamas?"

He crossed his arms, thinking about it. "In a way. Most Caamasi are true pacifists, apart from Jedi like Master La'altac, and even he won't fight if he has any other choice.  It's not that Alderaanians won't fight; we have plenty in the Army and Navy.  There might be a couple Alderaanian Jedi, too.  But they believe in diplomacy and peaceful negotiation as a first resort, even when violence might be morally permissible.  Sort of like the Jedi, I suppose."

"Like us?"

Tirien sighed, but before he could go on, he turned as if he had been called. Narasi stepped to his side and saw a tall man striding toward them, dressed in a suit of blue-gray and gray colored like Elyria's, but with a sweeping gray cloak fastened above his breastbone with a bronze device; at first glance Narasi thought it was a skull, but she suspected that wasn't right. The man had neatly combed blond hair and green eyes; Narasi placed him in his thirties or forties and took him for one of the princess's teachers, or perhaps someone on the royal staff, until Tirien bowed. "Your Majesty. Thank you for receiving us."

Narasi hurried to copy him, trying to conceal her surprise. He did not share those dark eyes his daughter and Prince Taylo had, nor did he wear a crown or any outward symbol of royalty. He merely nodded and smiled. "Of course. Alderaan has long been a friend of the Jedi Order.  I'm Rosulus Organa."

"Tirien Kal-Di. This is my apprentice, Narasi Rican."

"Welcome to you both." The king gestured. "Join me, won't you?"

He led the way to a circle of stone with four arc-shaped benches, sitting on one; Tirien and Narasi chose two others. Rosulus swept his cloak back over his shoulders and studied them. "To what do we owe the unexpected pleasure of your visit?"

"Chancellor Thini asked us to visit…but before we get into that, Your Majesty, please accept our condolences for your nephew's death. We mourn with you."

Rosulus's eyes tightened. "Do you? Your condolences are very kind, Master Jedi, but did you know my nephew?"

"We met only briefly," Tirien admitted.

Narasi could see the king thought his point proven, and she interjected, "I knew him."

"Indeed? A long and rich acquaintance, was it?  You feel you knew the depth and breadth of his character?"

The few words they had spoken to each other seemed pitifully insignificant here, speaking to Prince Taylo's flesh and blood. She imagined Prince Taylo at Elyria's age, running and playing in these gardens; the king had seen him grow up all that time and had known him better than Narasi ever could have. But… "I know he would dance with a Zygerrian girl at a ball…even when everyone else was watching."

The king opened his mouth, then closed it again, and his eyes softened and turned down to the ground. "…perhaps you did know him, at that."

Narasi would have said more, but she felt Tirien urging her to quiet in the Force, and she held her silence, waiting Rosulus out until he spoke again. "My nephew had his faults, but he was a gallant man. He would have been a good senator someday."

He fell silent, and Narasi felt his grief in the Force, mingled with…something else. Tirien shook his head. "You can't blame yourself, Your Majesty."

Narasi frowned in confusion…but then she understood. She wondered how the king would take it, but he just smiled. "The peril of strong emotions around a Jedi, I suppose. But I sent my nephew there.  If I hadn't…"

"You'd likely have sent Senator Antilles instead," Tirien finished. "And it would be his wife and son, not your sister, you'd have to console."

Rosulus nodded as if accepting the point. Narasi gestured the way her new friend had gone. "Your Majesty, does Princess Elyria understand everything that happened?"

"You met Elyria, did you? Ah yes of course—your rose.  Hiding from BD-505 again, was she?" Rosulus chuckled once, then sighed. "She knows her cousin died, and she misses him a great deal—she understands what death is, and its permanency. She still cries sometimes, or says she wants to be alone to think.  But she's only eight, and it's been a month and a half; we can hardly expect her to mourn continuously as we are."

"We haven't shared all the details, obviously," he went on. "We don't want to frighten her, or make her feel like she is in danger. She can understand the Sith in a 'good guys' and 'bad guys' sort of way, but she's too young to really grasp the scope and gravity of the war."

He looked at Tirien. "Are there leads on Darth Alecto, or Valin Aresh?"

"I can't speak to Aresh, except that Master Cazars and Mali Darakhan continue the campaigns in the north. As for Alecto…"  He frowned, and Narasi found his expression difficult to read. "Our latest intelligence is that she's back and accounted for on the Sith side. She'll be hard to reach there.  Unfortunate as it is, we're left in the position of waiting for her to cross back to our side and make a mistake."

"Will she?"

"Return? Certainly, although perhaps not soon.  Make a mistake?" Tirien was quiet for a moment. "No one is perfect, so the law of probability says yes, but Alecto is still very skillful; it will take a Jedi of uncommon ability to defeat her."

"Like you?"

Tirien glanced at Narasi and back. "We've fought Alecto twice. We didn't defeat her…but neither did she defeat us.  Candidly, Alecto and I are evenly matched; it could go either way."

Narasi was not particularly cheered by that analysis, much though cold reason told her it was true. King Rosulus weighed Tirien's words for a moment, then nodded. "Well, the pursuit of justice is a noble call, and I trust the Jedi will pursue Darth Alecto—and Aresh—to the extent of their abilities. But I wouldn't push you into doing something foolish just for revenge."

There was a moment's pause in which, though Tirien did not move, Narasi sensed him mentally bracing himself. Then he asked, "If I may, Your Majesty, then why would you consider recalling Alderaan's delegation to the Senate? Surely that would be something foolish?"

Narasi wondered if that was pushing too far with royalty, although the king did not seem offended. "Jerex is outraged, and I understand why. He and Taylo were not close, but they were still professional colleagues.  Additionally, several beings Jerex did consider friends died at Anaxes.  The numerous failures of security that allowed the assassinations are a stain on the Republic."

Tirien lowered his head. "I don't deny our failures there, and I take my share of the blame for them. But one incident should not make or break commitment to the Republic's ideals.  The Jedi didn't desert the Republic after Mizra."

"And yet it's those very ideals that I'm considering," Rosulus replied. "Every system that supports the Republic places its honor, its reputation, the dignity of its people and culture behind the Republic. Alderaan values peace, Tirien, philosophy, art and culture.  The Republic has grown increasingly far from those ideals—my nephew's murder is the latest calamity, not the cause of my consideration.  I've been king ten years, but I'm old enough to remember Chancellor Gochek's election.  We had hoped—not just Alderaan, but many worlds—that the election of a Jedi Chancellor would get the Republic back on track, and with Chancellors Tra'abin and Phnyong that hope continued.  But in many ways we've been disappointed."

"Chancellor Phnyong was a good man," Narasi said, and the ferocity in her own voice surprised her.

Tirien surprised her too, for there was no reprimand, only, "And a being of unimpeachable integrity. If I become half the Jedi—or half the man—he was, I will have lived a good life."

The king raised a hand. "You misunderstand me. I would never attack Chancellor Phnyong personally.  Jerex thought very highly of him, and Phnyong impressed upon Taylo the seriousness and dignity of the Junior Representative office in a way even I never managed to do.  The Chancellors themselves have seldom been the problem.  But the bureaucratic entanglements and biases that have persisted, even under their leadership, are the problem.  Take this Khofin of Knylenn—even if he's blameless in Phnyong's death, Jerex describes him as one of the most obstructionist bureaucrats he's ever met.  And the anti-non-Human bias in the military continues in some areas despite now two non-Human Chancellors.  Surely I don't need to tell non-Humans that."

Narasi squirmed, too aware of the validity of that complaint. Tirien's face gave less away, but Narasi knew him well enough to see he was uncomfortable as well. "Any Chancellor, no matter how gifted, is only one being. There's only so much he can accomplish quickly against a system entrenched for generations."

"We've had fourteen years of Jedi Chancellors," Rosulus reminded him. "Progress may be slow, but it should exist. If the Jedi are to lead the Republic, they must lead affirmatively, and risk the complaint of some systems; doing the right thing must always be the priority.  Alderaan can not pin its reputation and its honor on a Republic that is not only sick, but refuses to get well.  Surely a Jedi would understand that?"

"And yet the Jedi stand fast as champions of the Republic," Tirien countered. "As Alderaan has always been. The alternative is to abandon the Republic to the Sith.  The Republic has flaws, Your Majesty, but the Sith are evil."

"Alderaan can not blindly stand behind every choice the Republic makes simply because it is the lesser of the two evils, Tirien, because the more compromises are made, eventually that will cease to be true."

Tirien was quiet for a moment, and Narasi asked, "If you called Senator Antilles back from the Senate…then what? Just…leave the Republic?  Hang out here and see if things get better?"

"Recalling the delegation would not mean immediately leaving the Republic," King Rosulus answered, turning to her. "But we would not participate in the decisions of the Senate, and so give them our sanction of validity."

Narasi almost asked further when Tirien finally spoke. "Alderaan values service, doesn't it? Its contribution to the democratic process of the Republic?"

"We do. Which is why I have not made my decision yet—I didn't want to make it hastily, or under the influence of grief, and I don't take it lightly."

"Have you considered that Alderaan's participation in the Senate isn't for Alderaan?"

The king frowned. "Explain."

"Anaxes is the strong arm of the Republic. Coruscant is its brain, its central nervous system.  Alderaan…well, I suppose it's between Alderaan and Caamas to be the conscience of the Republic, but Alderaan is its heart.  Alderaan has symbolized hope for millennia, one of the strongest embodiments of the Republic's values and virtues, a light for beings still trapped in darkness.  And we saw that ourselves on Anaxes."

Tirien fixed King Rosulus with his piercing stare. "A hundred so-called civilized beings judged my apprentice based solely on what she is, condemned her without ever speaking a word to her. But it was the Alderaanian who held out his hand to her." Narasi sighed quietly, remembering that one, too-brief dance. "And as at the ball, so in the Senate and the Republic. Alderaan inspires the just and good and shames the corrupt and immoral in the same way—by example.  Withdraw from the Senate and you abandon that moral authority; remain, and you may bring hope to people who have it from no other quarter."

King Rosulus was silent for a long time, then nodded. "A valid point, and one my advisors and Senator Antilles deserve to hear." He looked up, apparently at the sun. "The afternoon is getting on, though, and I have a finance meeting. I hope you two will stay as my guests in the palace for a few days?"

Tirien and Narasi rose, and Tirien said, "We'd be honored, Your Majesty."

Narasi saw another thranta rider flying by and smiled while the king said, "Please join us for dinner tonight. We'll see that you're provided everything you need."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

There was a brief pause, then the king said, "Magnificent, aren't they?"

Narasi looked down and realized he was looking at her. He gestured upward toward the thranta rider, and she flushed and nodded. "I'd never seen one before."

"Taylo loved to ride," the king recalled with just a touch of melancholy. Then he collected himself. "If you'd like, I can arrange a ride for you before you leave."

"I…" Narasi glanced at Tirien for guidance, and he nodded. "I'd like that, Your Majesty, thank you."

"Until tonight, then," King Rosulus said, and, without guard or attendant, he headed off through the garden.