Star Wars 1. Chapter 1

**Beyond the Force**

**Chapter 1**

**Otherland**

**Author's Note: I've been in a huge Star Wars mood lately; especially in terms of our favorite deceased Jedi Master Qui-Gon. So, I wrote this. A definite alternate universe in this sense. I have not read the Jedi Apprentice series (I think that's what its called, yes?) so I do not know particular details about certain events in his life such as the death of Tahl or his choosing of Obi-Wan, but I know a general amount from internet research. That is all I think will be relevant in this story.**

**Also, many of you are probably thinking 'elves? In Star Wars?' And my answer to you is this, it is entirely possible; especially outside of the Republic. Also, there will be a certain amount of conflict between our Jedi and the elves. Why? Check out the title of this story and this chapter.**

**As a fun fact, I'm using titles from Blind Guardian songs to head my stories. Realized that doing so helped me think.**

**Like it, hate it? Review!**

* * *

The planet of Illearia was the world where all myth and fantasy merged to create one giant, planetary, kingdom. The planet had a vast, lush, terrain of wide flowing rivers and rolling yellow plains. Their mountain ranges were tall and vast- covering the northern and southernmost expansion of each continent. Their continents were separated by tumbling oceans as blue and clear as glass with gentle waves that caressed the soft white, sandy, shores. When the plains ended the forests began. The outer forests were sparse and sprawling. They gave way to lush meadows gently cultivated and kept neatly as if consistently cared for each day. Deeper one went into the forests the lush woods gave way to perilous, dense, thickets that could either harbor treacherous swamps or thick, untraceable forest pine or oak depending on how far north or south one traveled.

There were the inhabitants of this mythical planet that draws the most attention to those who wish to explore the planet in one way or another. Dwarves inhabited the rolling foothills and forbidding mountains deep under their surfaces with barely an above ground dwarven village in sight. The lords of the higher slopes and rolling plains were the great fire lizards- the dragons. Divided into three distinctive different breeds, the dragons roamed the land in clans with their own chosen king or queen. They traded with the dwarves in the forging of magical weapons and melting the strongest of metals.

On the plains were the Yleara or the Plainic elves who traded with both dwarves and dragons. Here the great white animals are bread be they omnivores or herbavores. These animals were natural in one planet once, but upon growth and the expansion of the mythical races they fed off of the residual magic and grew into something else. Some remained dumb and stupid. Others received the gift of speech and a mark of purity; white fur. Depending on where one happened to be living told a being whether or not they would see one of these grand white beasts. Ylearian Elves trained them and worked with them sometimes adopting certain characteristics of their bonded animals.

The Ylearian Elves were dark skinned in different shades. Some were so brown that they bordered on black while others were olive, dark tan or merely brown. Their hair was brown and beautiful, sometimes in the shades of different animals they favored raising and working with.

The seas were ruled by the merefolk. No land creature, elf or not, had a say in the affairs of the merpeople so not a lot is known about them.

The forests were where the rest of the elven race resided in. The Eduna, or Wood Elves, lived in the thickest parts of the forests where many would not go. They learned their secrets and hunted their lands. Their ways were strange and confusing, thus not many knew of their goings on. Their appearance was rumored to be a pale as the moon and their hair as dark as ravens.

The rulers of this planetary kingdom were those of the elven race. Those who specifically reigned over the elves were those of the Rhunic breed. Rhune elves were tall, fair haired and skinned, with bright blue or emerald green eyes. They were as slender as the ornate trees that dominated the forests of their lands. Each forest was pruned and kempt as a garden by each noble Rhunic family. Living in the gardened woods were gentle mythic creatures. Fairies, phoenix, pegusai and unicorns all were bright and majestic and signified the wealth of their people. They were beyond beautiful as all of their race were, but the Rhunic elves held a bright shining star to the light of beauty that, in their opinion, out-shone the rest.

This, of course, made much of their race very vain. Some of these feelings escaped the more grounded Rhune Elves, the ones who were the ambassadors to the other races and the rest of their own kind. There were those who lived before the elves divided into three different breeds. Those elves beyond the wish for power and control for they had seen it all. The Eldar; the old ones, the shining stars, the seers and the great witches all made up of what was left of the older history of their race. This was because they lived for just as long and, in some cases, helped produce some of the current lines. These elves did not rule, they merely advised.

An advising of sorts was happening now in the form of a tall, red-headed elf (a curious occurrence among the current elven population) who stood before a taller Rhunic elf with long golden hair and fair peach complexion. A topic of a need most dire was being discussed. The topic of whether or not their princess, and sole immediate heir to the throne, needed body guards. Well, body guards from another planet to be exact.

"Miriel, I do believe that Bellethiel will be in need of some help quite soon if she does not check herself! She will have to deal with a whole new world of cut-throat Rhune elven politics, saving your presence, and she will single-handedly offend all of the nobles! I'd rather her live to see the end of her first year as a legal, of age, adult than not," insisted the red headed elf-woman.

Queen Miriel of the elven race and the planet Illearia sighed in exasperation, "She will not be happy with me, Laurel. I have already drawn a rift into our relationship by cutting back her freedom drastically and I do not wish to worsten the wounds."

Professor Laurel Moruni, teacher of archaeology and history in Telunost Belundi, the resident magical university in Illearia, threw her hands up in exasperation.

"I do not really care too much about her feelings at the moment. Listen, if she has a problem with this arrangement, tell her to take it up with me because I am suggesting this for her own protection! I've seen a few of the lords from all elven realms eying her as if she was a fresh piece of meat now cooked to perfection and cooling on the counter-top waiting to be eaten! They will tear her apart if she doesn't have people around her!" Laurel exclaimed.

The elven queen suddenly looked very tired and very defeated. She wandered over to her desk and sank in her large, dear-pelt chair with a hand covering half of her face and her elbow resting against the dark oaken wood. She took stock of her office, the place where she could find solitary comfort when she needed to get the particulars of ruling her large queendom taken care of. It was filled with shelves upon shelves of legal books, paper maps that covered the walls and two other chairs where any guest could sit in front of her desk while discussing business. A moving picture, framed, rested on her desk in front of her where she could always look up and see it, of her late husband. She smiled ruefully when her blue eyes fell on it.

"Erugyr would have protected her, himself, and damned the consequences of offending anyone. He would have chased suitors away and sent her to the dwarf realms to learn metalwork," she muttered more to herself than to Laurel.

The tall red-head's forest green eyes softened a fraction before sinking into one of the chairs opposite her queen's desk.

"My lady, what would you have me do? Erugyr's no longer among the living. He can't protect your daughter, so we must find someone who can," she said gently.

Queen Miriel sighed, "Beyond the stars? Those Jedi from the Republic? I thought you despised them."

The professor snorted, "Most of them. I have one particular Jedi in mind who, if he's still alive, will fit the bill perfectly."

The queen straightened herself with interest, "You have met the Jedi, then? What is this particular one like?"

Laurel smirked, "A pain in the Jedi Council's ass. He makes them think. While he doesn't radically challenge their code like Sith do, he can be a bit… eccentric."

Queen Miriel grinned from behind her desk and leaned forward; folding her hands and resting them on its surface.

"Either he and my daughter will get along or there will be rows every night?" she asked.

Laurel smirked, "Ah, but Miriel, Jedi do not have emotions and keep them well bottled-up. He's the picture of serenity."

They shared a laugh. When they calmed themselves enough to speak again, the queen reached into a desk drawer and drew out a long sheet of parchment and a white feathered quill and jar of ink. She began to carefully draw out the letter of formal request as well as the amount-

"What currency do the Republic use?" she inquired curiously.

"I can exchange any gold, silver or bronze that you give me for Republic Credits when I read Coruscant. They should still have my account. Besides, I'm due for another ambassadorial journey there," she rolled her eyes at that last part.

The queen merely nodded and continued writing.

"Who am I requesting?" she asked after jotting down a few more lines.

"Jedi Qui-Gon Jin and his padawan. I don't know who his current padawan is or even if he has one, but I rather not separate master and apprentice if I can help it," she told her majesty.

The queen nodded and continued to write for a bit longer in silence. Then, when she completed her final line, she signed the letter, waved it in the air to dry, and then rolled it up into a scroll. She handed it to Professor Laurel Moruni.

"Ready your things. Your new cycle as ambassador will start tomorrow morning. I will arrange a ship for you. May Eru protect you on your swift journey," blessed the queen.

Laurel nodded and bowed low and muttered, "Yes my lady," and then departed.

* * *

"No," came the sharp negative from behind the changing screen.

Laurel Moruni rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. It would figure it was inevitable that she trained a headstrong elleth to become the next ruler of Illearia. Of course headstrong was what she figured the planetary kingdom needed. As much as she loved the queen as a ruler and a little sister (or daughter sometimes), Miriel had not the strength to stand against the rest of the nobles and back hand them into some sort of agreement without becoming a tyrant. Of course, she had married the late king who only inherited the thrown and the duel status as ruler with his wife, and Laurel knew that such was a bit of defiance the rest of the Rhune elves hadn't anticipated or forgiven their queen for. Bellethiel needed to be strong and it helped that she favored her father more than her mother.

"Your mother's already written the formal request and I will be leaving for the Republic's capital in a few hours. You cannot escape this, Belle. You need the help. I know you like to think of yourself smarter than the other elf lords but you forget that I have known them far longer than both you and your mother. Yleara and Aduna's high lords and ladies will especially be looking forward to marrying you to one of their sons in a hope that you will copy your mother. While I do not necessarily mind this and neither will your mother the Rhune Elves will not be so lenient this time. I fear that they may attempt to force an engagement out of you and force you to submit to their will. I'm a teacher and I can't always be here to protect you. These Jedi are the next best thing," Laurel was as calm in dealing with the daughter as she was with her mother, but only because should a shouting match occur, the elleth knew she could easily argue the girl into submission.

Princess Bellethiel wasn't a legal adult yet. She still had time.

Said princess finally revealed herself from behind the changing screen dressed in a green tunic. The hem of the green tunic reached her knees and her legs were covered in soft brown cotton that gently clung to her slight frame. Like her mother, she was slight. Unlike her mother, the young princess was short; very short and only stood five feet and one inch from the ground. Her skin was pale peach, like her mother's, but her hair was a mix of brown, red and blond creating a burnt metallic look. In the fashion of all elves, the princess' hair was long and wavy and the ends of her hair reached her lower back. Her eyes were teal, the mixture of the beautiful blue of her mother's and the soft forest green of her father. Like all other elves, Bellethiel's ears were pointed and her beauty was not that of mortals.

Professor Moruni smiled softly at her student. The girl would soon become her queen, that much was certain.

"Belle, you have grown into a beautiful, strong and confident young elleth. The planet needs your strength to guide them through their troubled times. It will not hurt to have some help," she told the girl.

The princess seemed to deflate this time and her instructor watched as her charge's shoulders sagged in defeat. The professor knew she had worn the child down, finally. The girl was becoming a very good debater and it had taken the professor everything up her sleeve and then some to combat the girl's sheer will. Laurel almost, but not quite, smirked at this. Her highness was not quite her equal yet. It would take some millennia of living for that to happen.

"Why Jedi, out of curiosity?" asked the princess while she stood in the middle of her chambers with a figure resting on her chin.

Laurel smirked, but not at her charge's expense, "They will not expect Jedi and they will not know what to do with them. It's a tactical move."

"The Jedi won't know much about our culture," warned the princess.

"I'm a history teacher, Belle, I can teach a few incompetent Jedi the basics of Elven culture!" replied the professor in exasperation.

* * *

"Master, I thought elves were mere myth?"

Qui-Gon Jin glanced at his young apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and sighed. It seemed as thought the boy had yet to wrap his head around the current elf-factor. He, unlike his visibly stunned/disbelieving padawan, knew about the race of elves that lived beyond the Republic in a small planet at the outermost rim of the galaxy. In fact, if he heard the name of the ambassador correctly, he knew exactly who their visitor was.

"The elves have made their presence known in the Republic before, Obi-Wan. They make regular twenty-year visits to Coruscant to maintain a diplomatic relationship with us," explained the Jedi Master.

Obi-Wan seemed to think about this for a moment, his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. His master wasn't surprised that his young padawan knew nothing of the race. He hadn't even been born the last time one visited. In fact, if Qui-Gon was correct, Professor Laurel Moruni's visit was seventeen years ago- a year before his apprentice was born. Qui-Gon hadn't been a Jedi at the time, but a Padawan under the instruction of Master Dooku.

"Master, the elven ambassadors are three years early," commented Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon's brown eyebrows furrowed and his brown bearded face contorted into a slight frown. His apprentice had a very good point. Professor Moruni was coming to Coruscant a bit earlier than she normally did and, from what he had heard from his master, the female was very particular about regularity.

"If that is the case, then I believe it will be safe to say that all is not well on the planet of Illearia. We must ready ourselves for bad news should it come to pass," advised the master.

Obi-Wan glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow, "I sensed no disturbance in the Force."

His master smiled at the tone coming from the young padawan. It sounded more like a reprimand than a question.

"Obi-Wan, elves do not exist within the Force. They have no Force sensitivity and do not adhere to the will of the Force, or so Professor Laurel Moruni likes to remind the Council every time she visits. If something is wrong, it will be the ambassador who will tell us."

He sensed that his apprentice was trying to hold back the retort of how impossible it was for beings to exist without the Force. When it became apparent that the boy wasn't going to press the issue all Qui-Gon felt was relief. He did not know enough to better explain any questions that his apprentice was bound to have.

"Why are we needed? Master Windu seemed most troubled when he came to see us an hour ago," inquired Obi-Wan.

"I cannot say," replied the older man.

And that was true. The elves kept to themselves and seldom asked for aid from the Republic. If the professor felt the need to summon two Jedi to an audience with her and not go to them herself she was obviously going ask something of them.

Neither master or apprentice were startled at the sudden appearance of a young boy, about ten years old, appearing before them with wide, innocent, amber eyes. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turned their attention to the boy with identical raised eyebrows.

"Master Yoda wishes for you to enter," announced the child with little ceremony.

Qui-Gon inclined his head, "Thank you, you may go."

When he boy left he turned to Obi-Wan.

"Be prepared my young padawan. Elves are not usual creatures from this world. Do not let the professor's appearance startle you and I can promise that she is something you have never seen before. Steel yourself and your feelings. You will need everything in your power to contain yourself," he told his increasingly bewildered student.

"You speak as if we are about to do battle," exclaimed Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon smiled grimly, "We are. Come."

With little more ceremony, they entered the council chambers.

As it had been sixteen years ago Qui-Gon was almost left dumbfounded in the presence of the tall, red-headed elven woman standing before him. She stood beside an unaffected Master Yoda tall and regal. Her face was like a hatchet with two severe eyes cool and calculating. Those eyes were the same forest green he remembered from his days as a young padawan. She wore the traditional traveling garb of her race; knee length dark green tunic and light grey leggings. At her hips hung a belt with an assortment of small pouches and bags attached on the sides and back. Her feet were adorned with brown leather traveling boots.

She smirked, "_Master_ Qui-Gon is it now? I see I was right to anticipate you having acquired for yourself a student."

Qui-Gon bowed to her, something that surprised everyone but Yoda and Mace Windu in the council. It was well known that the Jedi Master rarely bent his back to anyone accept Masters Yoda and Windu. The reactions, the whispers and surprised gasps, were what the man expected.

"It does my heart well to see you again, Professor," he greeted.

She raised an eyebrow and replied, "Eru has blessed our meeting, or cursed it, however you wish to put it. I'm afraid I am not here to discuss pleasantries with you, old friend. There is a matter of great importance that I must discuss with both you and your padawan. The council have already given me leave to ask this of you."

Qui-Gon nodded, "By all means discuss. My apprentice and I are at your disposal."

She smiled at him a smile that would be the downfall of civilizations. There was something to be said about the beauty the elves had. With age, the professor seemed to shine brighter with each passing year- an angel in the presence of mortals. She held up her hand that was, until recently, hidden behind her back. In it was a parchment scroll. She walked forward and handed the paper to him with a small nod.

"Read it," she told him.

Qui-Gon unfurled the scroll and realized that it was a letter. He scanned its contents several times before meeting the elf's gaze.

"Protect the High Princess of the Elven race? Forgive me, professor, but do you not have your own kind for that particular job?" he asked.

She snorted as she accepted the letter back into her possession and replied, "Clearly you're not used to being around the pompous asses that are the Elven lords and knights with their carefully hidden agendas. Not all are bad, but many are easily influenced by those most cunning and, in many cases, older. They all want the throne and while the Yleara and the Eduna are ready to take part in a fair, political, race the Rhune are not. We Eldar can grunt and growl all we like about their ferocious conduct, but the Rhune still claim dominance over the rest of the race and each one knows the other's capabilities; magic. Jedi do not mold magic, they mold and craft the Force, a power available for the mortal races. They will not expect you nor will they know what you can do. Besides the level of competency you still seem to posses from what I have read from Yoda's letters, it is imperative that I acquire your services as a tactical move. Besides, you are not as much of a threat to the princess, so there is a possibility that she will warm up to you. Mind you, it is only a possibility. I taught her as Miriel raised her, to be sorely independent and stubborn as a mule. She has common sense enough, but not to the point where her pride is at stake and she rarely asks for help. Her highness is going to be difficult, if I hadn't already made that fact clear."

"You have. As she is a princess I assumed she would be. Merely," he added hastily, "as a precaution to dispositions generally given by those of royal blood."

"Right," she replied in a tone that left no doubt about the fact that she didn't believe a word he just said.

"You and your padawan," began Windu, "will go to Illearia and guard the princess. We may have our differences, but the elves were always our allies. If there is corruption in their ranks, it will be up to the new queen and her advisors to uproot them and drive them out. The elves have helped us in the past. We will extend the same courtesy to them."

"Yes, Master Windu," Qui-Gon accepted.

Yoda took this time to say his piece, "A dangerous game this is. Carefully you must tread. Rely on instinct and logic you must. Only in battle will the Force help you."

"We will do our best to protect your princess," promised Qui-Gon to the professor.

She nodded, "That I do not doubt, but I hope it will be enough."

With that the two Jedi took their leave.

* * *

Qui-Gon never laid eyes on the starships that the elves used, so when he was confronted with the large, sleek, seemingly seamless vessel he wasn't sure where to start. Obi-Wan solved that problem for him when he circled the large shuttle-like vehicle.

"How do we get in?"

Qui-Gon was about to answer a negative to knowing when their elven escort appeared behind them with an answer, "The word 'open' in the language of my people tends to work. First, though, you need to establish a psychic connection with the ship so that it knows you're one of the passengers. Simply touch the side."

This person was a male elf. He wasn't all like Professor Moruni and his coloring was completely different than the rest of the elves that accompanied the elf-woman. His hair was dark, near black, and his eyes were a deep brown. His skin wasn't simply pale; it was white with a silver sheen. He was thin and slight, not stocky in the way many males as short as he would look. As was normal with his race, his face was handsome and alluring, but not in the normal, high cheekbone, way. In many ways, Qui-Gon felt that the male elf before him resembled a sort of animal.

The male bowed, "Greetings Master Jin, I am Lorn, uncle of the princess, Bellethiel ven Aldura. It will be my honor to escort you to, Illearia. Please, establish connection with the ship and we will enter."

Both Jedi visibly stunned they did as they were told unsure of what else to do. Neither had ever heard of a ship that could get into the minds of the people flying them. When all passengers were finally on board, Lorn took the time to carefully explain things.

"The ship is different than most human inventions. The elves forge a ship as we would our weapons and take great care to weave our magic into our work. We find, especially when we journey to the Republic, that it is the safest course of action. We are currently in good relations with the dwarf kings of the mountains and they have supplied us with the strongest metals to ever be found in the galaxy to construct our weapons, armor, spacecrafts, and jewelry. Sometimes our elvensmiths become creative and mold and shape the metal into small strands of thread so that our weavers and seamstresses may make us protective clothing."

The explanation was long and Qui-Gon noticed his padawan's mind wandering a bit. Lorn, when receiving word that all things were secure and in place, readied them for launch while explaining to Qui-Gon how the controls worked. When they were in the air and all technical explanations ceased, the older Jedi conceded that he didn't really understand a word the elf said.

"If I may, sir Lorn, why is it that you and Professor Moruni look different than the rest of the elves that came with you?" asked Obi-Wan after they launched into hyperspace.

Lorn glanced over at the young Jedi with a small smile etched on his face as he answered, "I am from the deep forest realms of our planet. My people are known as the Aduna. We are the hunters and the protectors of our realm as well as the least known. I am one of few who ventured out of our deep forests. My late brother, the king, was the first. Professor Moruni is of the Eldar or firstborns. She represents what our race once was and is the hope of what our race might one day be again. The Yleara are another sect of our kind whom I doubt you will ever see. They may be more accessible, but they rarely venture into the woods and the capital. Trees upset them. The elves you are asking about are the Rhune. They are the queen's kind and part of our princess' ancestry. The Aduna are also a part of her."

"If the Rhune and the Aduna are willing to intermingle with the other than I do not see what the danger is," stated Obi-Wan boldly.

Qui-Gon, who already knew at least some of this, remained silent and allowed his padawan to discover on his own. Lorn looked uncomfortable.

"Ah, yes, that is the problem. The queen took my brother as husband against the wishes of her people. The Rhunic nobility never approved of the match and will be making certain that another one doesn't happen. They want to keep the royal line as… pure as possible," he explained.

Obi-Wan looked horrified. Qui-Gon was contemplative as he digested some new information he just received. He had not known that the queen married outside of the Rhunic peoples.

"Who else, besides Princess Bellethiel, will stand to gain the throne should the princess die?" inquired Qui-Gon.

Lorn's smile became wry, "She has two or three very distant cousins, but her mother is of a long line of only children for at least four thousand years, seven generations. All of the former kings and queens died in unusual circumstances and many of the nobility from both clans loyal to the royal line suspect fowl play. It is these cousins we must watch for. They are the sons, daughters and grandchildren of elves who were of a bad disposition. I suspect they would have taken over by now and established a new line, but their claim on the royal throne is so small that I doubt they could take over. They will, however, push to have my niece choose one of their offspring as hard as they can. They've done so before which is part of the reason why Princess Bellethiel has no close relatives."

"Why would that make any difference?" asked Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon knew the answer to this question, having asked the professor earlier, "The royal line of succession is bound by deep magic that has existed for thousands of years. It keeps it to the descendents of one family and only one family. Should the last royal die, the race will be placed in grave danger. The queen and her ancestors have made their family valuable enough the idea of de-throning the current family in power became unthinkable. Princess Bellethiel is the only heir to the throne with firm claim. Should she die, the race could fall from civil war."

"Which places her in danger of a political marriage instead of a well-matched one," said an understanding Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon nodded and Lorn laughed, "Miriel had hoped to break the strategy once Bellethiel became of age, but then Erugyr was unexpectedly killed by a black dragon from the swamplands. They tried to blame the Aduna, but the council of the Eldar hadn't believed them and neither did the queen. For twenty years there has been a push from a certain group of the Rhunic nobles for the queen to take a new husband, but she has refused."

Qui-Gon frowned at that. Such rebelliousness had probably put the queen in danger now especially that her daughter would come of age in the coming months.

"How long does her highness have before her birthday?" asked Qui-Gon.

"A month."

"And we will remain a year after?" asked Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon nodded, "So it would seem."

* * *

It struck Qui-Gon that Illearia was a lush planet. The forests, thick and thin, weaved a careful green hue that blended rather well with the savanna gold plains and pine green to snowy white mountains and created a picturesque vision from space. Like the original world that the elves came from many thousands of years ago, Illearia was the fourth planet in its solar system and orbited a new sun. It was also the only one habitable.

"I have never seen a planet this fertile before," observed his padawan from the seat next to him and to the right behind Lorn.

The elven hunter, as he later told them he was, laughed heartily, "Illearia hadn't appeared so when our people first landed here. Our magic cultivated and cured the planet and turned it into the home we have today."

"Its beautiful," complimented Obi-Wan.

Lorn snorted, "From here? You should spare your compliments until we have landed. The beauty of our capital will most please you I think."

The descent was light and without much turbulence. Lorn even mentioned that they returned on a good day since the late spring thunderstorms were due within the month and entering and exiting this area of the planet would not be wise. Through a communication link, Lorn announced that it was himself and the Jedi entering the planet and aiming for the capital. Another male voice, high tenor that was pleasant to the ears, replied and instructed the hunter elf to which landing platform he was to finish his descent. They were also told that the queen and the princess would be personally meeting them with the White Council.

Even Qui-Gon was at al loss of who the White Council was, but Obi-Wan beat him to asking.

"White Council?"

"The ring of advisors to our race. They are made up of the oldest of the Eldar. There are five in all, one of whom is currently in Coruscant," explained Lorn while concentrating on landing.

Before Obi-Wan could inquire further, his master indicated to one landing platform where a small group of elves waited for them. Qui-Gon observed them keenly as they passed. The queen was obvious. She was easily the tallest elf there and the most reserved. The reservation, he noted, was not of steely resolve, but of a timid person. She had all of the appearance of strength without actually having it. Her daughter, he noted, was a different story. She had her mother's cheekbones, slight but defined features, and posture. She did not have the elf-queen's straight hair and pleasant complexion. In fact, she looked a mixture of the two. Her hair was caught between deciding whether it wanted be blond or brown and ended up becoming a burnish metallic bronze and her skin was a shade past peach, but not quite white or silver. The princess' arms were crossed and a look of reserved annoyance was plastered on her face.

He had no doubt that she was going to be difficult.

Lorn was chuckling and brought Qui-Gon out of his reverie.

"My niece was glaring at us. You wouldn't have seen her when she was, but I saw enough to know that her royal pain is definitely not pleased," commented the amused uncle with good humor.

"She's shorter than all of them," observed Obi-Wan.

"Takes after her aunt, Artemis, and her only living grandmother, Dione. I see that we will be acquainting ourselves with the full White Council. You will like them. Possibly the few sane elves in this capital, let us depart," with that Lorn went to help them with any belongings they brought with them.

When it became apparent that the Jedi only brought a few changes of clothes and some emergency survival packs for just-in-case purposes, Lorn allowed the Jedi to carry their own. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan followed him out into the presence of the Queen, her daughter and the White Council.

When master, apprentice and elven hunter stepped out of the ship and into the presence of royalty all three bowed.

It struck Qui-Gon how beautiful the elves really were. Professor Moruni had a worn beauty about her that was constant and old. It wasn't surprising given how old the elf-woman was, but it was a plainer beauty nonetheless. The queen was a golden light among her people and her daughter was her shadow. Still, it was the daughter he found his eyes drifting more towards. It was the daughter who made more of the lasting visual impression in hi mind whenever he turned away from glancing at her. It was a beauty of innocence that struck Qui-Gon. He knew how old the elf-princess was. Lorn had made certain that both master and padawan knew. Her beauty was softer, as well. It wasn't striking, merely present, and didn't endeavor to outshine the rest of those in the room. It was probably why, in his opinion at least, he felt her to be the one most pleasant to look at.

The Queen stepped forward as regal and serene as ever, but Qui-Gon, through years of practice at detecting people's emotions through visual observation, detected a hint of fear in her sky blue eyes.

"You are the Master Qui-Gon Jin I have heard so much about?" she asked.

"Yes my lady," he replied in his bent form, "and with me is my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

She smiled at him in what he knew to be was a relieved smile, "Rise, then. And Lorn, I have said time and again that you should not bow before me as you are brother to my late husband and uncle to my daughter."

Qui-Gon sensed that this was a conversation often had. Lorn seemed rather amused by being verbally called out by what her knew to be a timid elf-woman.

"Of course, so may I call you Miri in front of the White Council?" he asked.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan shared a look when they saw the slight tick of annoyance on the queen's face. It seemed as if the daughter inherited more from her mother than simply looks.

"Certainly not. Miriel will suffice."

"Miri?" piped the princess from behind her mother.

The queen flushed slightly but refused to acknowledge the question.

"Greet our guests, Belle," she instructed.

The princess Bellethiel pursed her lips before turning her attention to both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Her arms remained crossed and her striking teal eyes revealed the irritation the elf-girl felt at their presence.

"Greetings," she said stiffly.

Obi-Wan coughed to hide the snort that almost welled up. Qui-Gon, who held more mastery of himself, hid the smile that almost crossed his lips. Lorn and Laurel hadn't been kidding when they told him and the Jedi Council that the princess was a defiant one.

"Bellethiel ven Aldura you will greet our guests properly," calmly reprimanded the queen.

"I thought they were my guards and not guests, mother," replied the princess with a steady voice.

"They are guests to Illearia and your guards and you will treat them with respect," chided the queen.

The princess actually scowled, "I was being respectful."

Qui-Gon's lips quirked into a slight smile; he had no doubt at all that she was holding back hostility. The queen fixed her with the practiced look that all mothers managed to send their daughters when they know for certain that they were being willfully rebellious. The daughter met that look for a moment before finally lowering her gaze and inclining her head a fraction.

"Forgive me, mother," she muttered.

"Perhaps," began one of the other elves in the group; a female with black hair and a peach complexion, "we should continue personal discussions when our princess' new guards are taken care of. Their rooms must be sent for and elven cloths must be fitted for them. A modest look, I think."

One of the other female elves, a tall, auburn haired elf with milk white eyes, shook her head.

"That will not be necessary. I have already spoken to the tailer. They will be dressed in elven robes that will resemble their normal attire as best as possible. This is," she turned and looked directly at Obi-Wan who had been about to ask, "so that you may blend in just enough so, while it is evident you are human, they will not be entirely aware of what you are. Only the White Council knows of the presence of Jedi as of now, but I am certain that will change."

The way she seemed blind, but could still see was disconcerting for Qui-Gon as it was for his apprentice. What also disturbed him was the fact that this elf-woman seemed to be able to see the future, yet he couldn't sense even a small amount of her presence. He figured that this was a fact he would simply have to live with.

"That will be most appreciated, thank you. My padawan and I will place our current robes on hold for training," he told her.

She nodded and studied him for a bit. Qui-Gon suppressed a shudder at her supposed blank stare. The elf was looking right through him and he could feel it.

"You are Gui-Gon Jin, challenger and rock to those who consider you their friend. A Jedi Master of his own right with skills beyond most of those on your Council. May you find knowledge that you not seek here. Beware your heart. It will be taken. I am the Lady Ailya, high seer of the elven race. I work with our resident historian, though Laurel Moruni's talent lies beyond that of document gathering. It pleases me to finally have the chance to meet you," with that last bit she bowed.

The raven haired elf-woman stepped forward and bowed as well, "I am Lady Neldie, teacher of magic. Forgive Lady Ailya's oddness, the future constantly runs through her head and while her mind is well catalogued some things are bound to slip through."

"Only the important things, Neldie," said the seer primly.

Both male elves walked forward and bowed before the Jedi. Both looked identical in every fashion save their eye color and their manner. One seemed calm and collected while the other seemed impatient and on edge.

"I am Athrad Lord of Law and Code. This is my brother, Lord Maethor the greatest warrior in our race. He trains our soldiers and turns them into honorable young men," greeted the blue eyed one.

"Together, with Laurel, we make the White Council," finished Maethor.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan returned their bows with their own and Qui-Gon replied, "Thank you for your words of greeting. They are welcomed."

The queen nodded to Lorn, "Please, brother, take Bellethiel with you so that the both of you may go over the rooms and where our Jedi will be sleeping as well as nightly and daily rounds for their guard. I have things I must discuss with… Lord Rusc and his clan concerning certain… topics."

With that the queen and the White Council departed and left the two Jedi in the presence of the princess and her uncle.

"Topics concerning how he can get one of his males into my marriage bed no doubt," muttered the princess under her breath though not soft enough for Qui-Gon not to hear.

The older human had to choke back the laugh that threatened to escape his throat. There was a bright side to this. At least the princess was well aware of the type of people they would be protecting her from.

* * *

Bellethiel was silent during the walk to her rooms. Her uncle, Lorn, did the talking. It was what she preferred. She didn't want to have anything to do with these Jedi and she most certainly didn't want them breathing down her neck every day for the next year. They treated her like a lost child half of the time. In fact, her mother and the professor seemed to be convinced that she couldn't handle a group of self-important elf lords with the morals and emotional capacity of a teaspoon. The realization that her elders didn't trust her enough to put up with the bastards irritated her.

She ignored most of their conversation. It wasn't about anything important, really, merely the other races who lived in the capital. Bellethiel reached her rooms first and slipped in silently while leaving the door open for the rest of the group to enter. She made a beeline for the chair and desk by the window where her books and writing utensels rested. She was immersed into her a large, ancient, leather volume when Lorn entered with the two Jedi.

"Belle, pay attention while I show which rooms they'll be in. Then you can study, alright?" asked her uncle.

She turned around and fixed her teals eyes on him intently while pointedly ignoring the other two. Lorn lifted his eyes to the ceiling for a second before fixing his attention back to the older human, Qui-Gon, she believed he was called.

"Master Qui-Gon, you will be in the room to the right of my niece's chambers and Obi-Wan you will reside in the rooms to the left. This is the main room. Breakfast usually begins in the seven o'clock hour and ends at eleven. The princess should be kind enough to show you where sustenance is to be obtained, but I've known my niece long enough to be aware of the fact that she is well-known for leading people on wild-goose chases for her own personal amusement. It may be best to find a servant and ask for directions," explained Lorn dryly.

Bellethiel looked a bit offended at that, "My former guards rather enjoyed our 'wild-goose chases' as you put it. They had bets going on how easy it would be for them to be fooled the next time."

Lorn sent her a look, "Yes, of course."

"It is true!" she insisted.

Her uncle pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a tired sigh, "Belle, make an attempt to take your clear and present danger seriously."

Bellethiel crossed her arms and glared at Lorn. This was getting ridiculous!

"For heaven's sake, uncle! You, mother, the professor and pretty much everyone else the the span of my guardianship seem to have it in their minds that these morons we call nobles are even slightly intelligent! And it also seems like you have no confidence in my capabilities to battle with them accordingly," she snapped.

Lorn slapped the back of the couch he was standing next to in a sudden fit of anger that startled her and the two Jedi in the room.

"Dammit, Belle! You're still a child compared to them! A very arrogant and overconfident child might I add! Your life may not be in immediate danger, but your sanity and mentality and strength of will are! You take these ellon for morons. You're right, a few of them are, but the ones you must worry about the most are smart enough to appear the blithering idiots you mistake them to be!" he took a deep breath and then continued in a considerably softer voice, "We will not have this argument again now, Belle, not in front of our new residents. I will leave now. Please take care to instruct them when and where dinner will be. Try to make friends."

With that her uncle left the room and Bellethiel remained in her seat silently fuming and humiliated. She didn't want to make friends! Not with people who were supposed to hound her every waking moment! She was reduced to a prisoner in her own home, the very thing her mother and father promised never to do.

She glared at the two men standing awkwardly with their arms folded in their brown robes.

"You need not wait for my dismissal, sir Jedi. It will not matter in the days ahead anyway," and with that she turned around and glared angrily at the page she was reading earlier, not seeing the words.

She heard them take their leave and was slightly startled to note their soft, almost silent, movements. Bellethiel had to admit, the Jedi were going to be hard to avoid. She smirked. Hard, but not impossible.

* * *

Qui-Gon sifted through the five full sets of clothing he would be wearing for the duration of his stay in Illearia with a concentrated frown on his weathered features. The clothes were different shades of white, grey and tan and the feel of their cloth was slightly metallic. It seemed that the White Council had been very particular concerning the type of cloth he and his padawan would wear. With a certain amount of curiosity, he drew out and activated his lightsaber. The blade hovered over the sleeve of one of the white inner shirts for a second before the Jedi Master tapped the material with the tip of his laser blade. The light distorted, shifted and scattered causing the man's eyes to widen with shock.

Lorn did not jest when he said many of Illearia's metals were the strongest to be had in the galaxy.

There was a knock on his door and Qui-Gon moved to open it. Obi-Wan stood awkwardly outside

"May I?" he asked.

Qui-Gon nodded and stepped aside to allow his padawan in. Obi-Wan gratefully hastened into the room.

"What do you make of her highness?" asked Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon's lips quirked ever so slightly at the mere mention of the headstrong princess.

"She is prideful to the point where she understands the danger she is in and believes herself capable to handling it on her own. For a princess she has been given much independence. Notice the closet near the middle of the room in between a few bookshelves? Full of cleaning supplies. The elves do not treat their royalty as specially as other civilizations do. With us she will no longer have true personal time as I suspect she did with her former guards. This prospect has not improved her temper and she is angry," Qui-Gon analyzed.

Obi-Wan nodded and sat in one of the chairs that rested near the wall.

"I thought her to be spoiled," inserted the padawan.

Qui-Gon nodded to that. His apprentice was right, the princess was most likely indulged more than she ought.

"Reality will become known to her soon enough," reassured Qui-Gon.

That though actually depressed him slightly. There was something about her that conveyed a sort of confident naivety of the world. She walked and talked in a way that said, "I'm not afraid of you".

"Do you think she is capable o defending herself?" asked Obi-Wan successfully starting him out of his thoughts.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, "Why do you ask?"

"Well," began Obi-Wan, "I thought so at first because of how she carries herself. I would say she is a hunter like her uncle since he carries himself in the exact same way. Then you mentioned her pride and it made me wonder if, possibly, since she can defend herself she feels angry that her mentors who should have faith in her abilities felt the need for us."

Qui-Gon did not reveal his startled expression. Such an observation had not occurred to him. He did, however, reveal some of his pleasure at the acute observation his padawan exhibited. For Obi-Wan to point to a possibility he never even considered was cause for celebration. It meant that his apprentice was maturing as a Jedi and was one step closer to becoming a fully fledged knight.

"And what drew you to such an observation?" he asked.

Obi-Wan inclined his head and continued, "I placed myself into her shoes and wondered how I would feel if it was you who felt the need to assign two personal baby-sitters to me. I believe that I would feel the same resentment as well."

Qui-Gon was very impressed. His padawan had thought well.

"What do you suggest we do?" he asked.

"Be present but not invasive and attempt to befriend her as best we can. We need to show her that invading her privacy is the last thing we want to do and will also not happen. She needs to be reassured of the fact that we think of her as an equal and not someone weak and submissive. Her highness will not respond to anything less," suggested the young padawan.

Qui-Gon took this into consideration. He had no doubt that he would have arrived at the same conclusion at a later time but he had a feeling that the said later time would have been too late to repair much of the uneasy alliance he would have with his charge. Obi-Wan's observation was mere speculation, yes, but he could see it. In any case, there were ways to test such theories out.

"I have an… idea," he said.

* * *

Bellethiel was immersed in her work when Master Jin walked out of his room. The apprentice Obi-Wan had left the older man's room several hours earlier in want to catch up on sleep before braving the next day. She was well aware of the fact that it would be the master who would be guarding her this first night and she wasn't entirely happy about that.

She noticed the movements of her guards but noted that neither of them attempted to talk to her. She did see the master Jedi setting up cameras around the main room from the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow. The man noticed her questioning glance and turned fully to her.

"I am setting up viewing cameras around the perimeter. I felt that it would be best since neither my apprentice or I can sense your or your people through the Force. If it will not bother you, I would like to install motion sensors around your bedroom window and balcony?" the question in his voice ringed.

She sighed, "They would have to be virtually undetectable. An elven assassin can de-assemble technology with a word if they must."

His bearded lips twitched into a slight smile as he regarded her for a moment.

"That is why I was hoping to defer to your knowledge about integrating elven magic and technology. Surely there is a way to make the sensors untraceable or unable to disengage easily?" he asked.

Bellethiel turned to fully face him. She felt confused. Normally those who were to guard her did not feel the need to ask her about what she felt would be needed for her safety. They tended to simply do whatever the hell they wanted to and damn the consequences of losing her trust. This was a nice change though she would never admit it out loud.

"I'll look into it," she said stiffly.

They were trying to be accommodating and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Master Jin inclined his head to her and returned to his work with the cameras. Belle turned back to her work and attempted to become lost in the information and knowledge that her book contained. She suddenly found herself distracted by the sounds of the man working quietly around her. It wasn't even like he was that noisy or loud, she was just suddenly aware of him.

The princess scowled at the page she was attempting to read and willed herself to re-immerse herself into her work. It was to no avail. She found that she could concentrate no longer. Her curiosity concerning what he and his Jedi padawan had planned for her peeked and she found herself bursting with inquisitive questions that she forced herself to swallow. She would not give in.

Bellethiel's teal eyes wandered to the Jedi working just to the right of her setting a very small camera in place over her window. She couldn't help but note that he was already in and elven tunic and pants they provided for him and his apprentice. She wrinkled her nose a bit. Tan? Of all of the garments he could choose from (and ask for) he chose the plainest one?

Her gaze inspected him more closely and discretely as he turned around to inspect the other side of the window with a slight frown of concentration on his brown, bearded, face. The intensity of his brown eyes struck her and she found herself stealing glances up at them.

She returned her full attention to her books and note taking the moment she realized what she was doing. Bellethiel let out a curse in elvish when her quill broke from her applying too much pressure while attempting to write with it. She sat back in her seat and glared forlornly at her unfinished work. There was no way she would be able to concentrate now. Her mind was too aggravated.

"Have you tried meditation?" he asked from where he stood surveying the area outside of her window.

She willed herself not to glance over at him when she answered, "Never could clear my mind. Professor Moruni tried it with me once sixteen years ago after her last visit to Coruscant, but we could never figure out how to calm my mind."

There was a short silence between them before he asked, "Is there nothing that brings you calm?"

Belle's teal eyes softened and all of the tension and bitter resentment faded into a sense of hopelessness. Calm wasn't a part of her vocabulary and she wished that it was. She was always too active. Her mind never stopped thinking. Professor Moruni, when she realized that Belle's mind was always constantly at work, taught her to refine her thought and think on her feet. Unfortunately, things like magic came hard to her because of this and there were only certain types of spells she could focus long enough to perform. This was why she trained in other things, sword fighting and hunter skills. Having to constantly keep her mind occupied with strategic planning gave her a sense of quiet that her mind needed. Occupying her mind with books and learning helped as well. Did she ever know peace and serenity? Never once.

"No," she finally answered, "that gift has never been granted me."

"Not once were you ever in a state of peace?" he asked.

Bellethiel wanted to answer 'no', but knew that would be a lie. She had been when her father was still alive, but that had been forty years ago.

"I barely remember it if I had been," she replied truthfully.

She was starting to get annoyed again. Why was he digging like this? Why couldn't he leave her alone?

"My padawan and I train in the mornings. You are welcome to join us. Your powers may not be with the Force, but I am certain that there are things we can help you with," he offered.

"You're trying to make friends," she pointed out bitterly.

"Yes," he replied.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Bellethiel wasn't sure how she felt at this moment. The Jedi was being very annoyingly infuriating with his answers.

"You are my guard. Guards don't become friends with their charges, they guard them and take bets on how long it will take them to give said guards the slip," she said.

He snorted, "I am afraid that Obi-Wan and I will not indulge your definition of what a guard should be. We were not asked to merely guard you from physical attacks, but also the mental. To do that we must learn to tolerate and trust each other lest you end up in a situation you cannot get out of."

She turned and glared at him, "There you go assuming that I can't take care of myself!"

"And you are willfully stubborn about doing everything alone," he retorted calmly.

She was about to reply but caught herself just in time. He was attempting to rile her up. She would not give in and she would not give in to him! She turned away from him and glared back at her book.

A feathered quill suddenly appeared in her line of vision, startling her. She blinked and followed the length of that quill to a lightly tanned hand, up the sleeved arm attached to it and met the soft brown eyes of the person hired to be her protector.

"Yours broke. Here is another," he offered.

At a loss for what to say or do, she simply thanked him and took the quill. After blinking at it in dazed surprise she returned back to her work. She tried to stay angry and resentful, she really did, but that unobtrusive bit of kindness chipped away at her temper and softened her opinion of at least Qui-Gon just slightly.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Bright Eyes**

**Author's Note: _I must really like this story at the moment because I take a lot longer to update usually. Anyway, As you can see, like the other chapter, this one is titled with a Blind Guardian Song title. So far all of my chapters have a Blind Guardian title. I find that doing this actually makes me update faster (lol). _**

**_A few things to note:_**

**_1) The elves and humans originally came from Earth, the Solar System in the outermost tip of the spiral of the Milky Way Galaxy. This story takes place in the second outer spiral along the outer rim of the Milky Way. The races from earth left six-thousand years prior to this story when the sun expanded and vaporized Mercury. Illearia was a wild planet until the elves cultivated it with the mixture of physical labor and magic. Humans once resided in Illearia, but left the planet to become re-acquainted with the human colonies sent out many years prior. While the Republic was being formed Illearia was left well alone until the Sith and Jedi accidentally stumbled there. When the Republic was formed, Illearia was given the choice to join, but they declined. Instead the current elven queen set up a system of ambassadors to go to Coruscant every twenty-years. Professor Laurel Moruni has been the head ambassador to the Republic for the entire time._**

**_2) Professor Moruni has a past that I may or may not write about in a short story or two. _**

**_3) This isn't an angsty chapter per say, but there is a lot in the way of an inner war going on inside of Qui-Gon. Belle is a bit willfully oblivious. _**

**_Like it? Hate it? DESPISE it? Review and tell me what you think!_**

* * *

Professor Laurel Moruni was bored; very, very bored. It took everything she knew about keeping her attention on incredibly long winded individuals for her to remain attentive. The senate was aggravating, full of complete and total morons. She was in the observation room with Masters Mace Windu and Yoda listening to a particularly idiotic speech about the importance of… damn it she's forgotten!

The red head let out a frustrated sigh after the ten-minute mark hit. This wasn't even a filibuster! She wondered what would happen if she 'accidentally' cast a silencing spell on everyone in the entire room. The resulting chaos would be the best thing that would happen that day.

"You seem impatient, Professor," commented Mace Windu.

She smiled at that. Of course he'd be the first to notice!

"I'm bored, Master Windu," she told him.

Yoda chuckled and asked, "Not to your liking, agricultural regulations is?"

Laurel blinked, her green eyes wide with innocence and curiosity.

"Oh? Is that what they're squawking about?" she asked.

Beside her, she watched as the dark skinned man shake his head in exasperation.

"How is it that you became a professor?" he asked in exasperation.

She smirked, "Easy. I wrote a good portion of Illearia's history."

"Contributing factor, that is," conceded Yoda with no small amount of amusement dripping through his voice.

Beside her, Mace Windu looked distracted by something. She didn't know what it was. She never asked, not anymore. There was never any point in engaging in light conversation with him. He always made certain to bow out of the conversation; determined to keep her at arm's length as a mere acquaintance.

Master Yoda filled the need for her curiosity, undoubtedly noticing it. She always liked the little green man. Beyond the Force, he was always perceptive of others around him and never fully relied on it to reveal everything he needed to know. Master Windu was a lot more high strung, less sure of himself and his powers and his natural ability with anything, to be so observant.

"Feel something, you do. About Master Jinn, it is," stated Yoda as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Laurel's ears perked at that. Was something happening on Illearia that needed her immediate attention?

"Qui-Gon is conflicted with something. I am quite certain it is about the princess, but I cannot see definitely," he muttered.

Worry overcame her suddenly, but Laurel kept her voice even as she asked, "Is something wrong? Is Belle safe?"

Mace Windu fixed her with his brown-eyed stare with seriousness in his eyes.

"I do not sense Qui-Gon in danger. Something is frustrating him and he cannot seem to find a solid answer to his problem," he informed her.

Laurel snorted. That was the problem?

"It's probably my apprentice driving him batty. She is no one he will have ever met before," she said proudly.

Mace was about to offer a retort when Master Yoda said, "Stands to speak, Senator Palpatine does. Concerning elves, it is."

Laurel fixed her eyes on the old man floating around the chamber in his traditional Nubian robes. Her eyes narrowed. Now she was paying attention.

* * *

"By the stars, how do you manage to clear your minds like that?" exclaimed the frustrated princess of the elves as she and her two protectors walked back to their rooms from their early morning training.

Qui-Gon smiled at her frustration. It wasn't like she had made no progress. In fact she was a lot calmer now, three weeks into their stay, than she had been. The walls of temper that she used to try and protect herself were falling down and her stubbornness was taking a different turn. There was no doubt about the fact that Princess Bellethiel could now be considered as a passive aggressive person.

"Being able to keep a calm and collected mind while facing frustrations is merely the first step. I'm still not at my master's level your highness," Qui-Gon's apprentice re-assured her.

Obi-Wan and Bellethiel had formed a sort of rivalry friendship that pleased him to no end. The elf-girl didn't have many friends who were younger than her and Obi-Wan helped fill that hole splendidly.

"But, may I point out that I am older than your master and have been attempting to clear my mind for far longer than he?" she asked in a slightly exasperated and slightly teasing tone.

Qui-Gon chuckled, "Experience does not always equal maturity. You have nearly a century of experience in many things under your belt, but you are still in the stages of a young adult. I am middle aged."

She smirked at him, "And yet you do not move in the manner of one in his forties. In fact, I believe that it is safe to say that you are on par with a man of twenty."

Obi-Wan laughed dryly at that, "May I quote my master when he says, 'the Force keeps its masters young'?"

Princess Bellethiel giggled. Qui-Gon liked the sound. It wasn't the annoying high pitched giggle of young girls, but the light, airy, show of mirth from a young woman. Many elf females, he had come to realize, had this interesting little gift when it came to their laughter.

"Obi-Wan, seeing as you are speaking to an elf about aging processes, I must say that the slowing of mortal aging through this Force of yours is not that impressive," she teased while poking him in a hard bicep.

The young padawan scoffed, "Think of it from my point of view, Belle! Not from yours!"

She did. She actually thought about it. Qui-Gon mutely watched as her teal eyes shifted to the currently cloudy sky for a few moments as she considered the scenario in her mind. She smiled and her eyes shown with a bright fire within demonstrating that she understood. She cast an observing glance in his direction.

"Alright, I see now the impressiveness of such a feat," she conceded.

The men chuckled while she giggled again. Qui-Gon felt a slight twinge of fondness for her while he observed her mirth. The first rays of sunlight caught in her disheveled braided hair and made her pale skin glow slightly- a trait he was certain she inherited from her Eduna ancestry. For a moment, he was caught off guard, again, by the pure, natural, beauty.

As interesting as the elves were it didn't stop the two Jedi from feeling rather disconcerted around them. Obi-Wan especially felt uneasy around them. It was the way they interacted with the Jedi that unsettled the two thought more so with his apprentice. The elves' unnatural beauty did not bother him as much save for one bright eyed princess who seemed to nearly melt his resolve with a smile.

Elves, apparently, had emotions and, while they regulated them, there was no need to contain much of what they were feeling. Bellethiel, for instance, could be read like an open book. She was not reserved. If she didn't like something or if something unsettled her in some form or another, the source knew about it. If she wanted some undesirable suitor attempting to woo her before her one-hundredth birthday she told him to go away. It was their openness that made both of them feel out of place, even with the princess.

Another aspect about elven society that sometimes downright alarmed them was their use of magic. It became increasingly apparent after the first week that magic and the Force were not the same thing. For instance, magic did not exist in every living thing whereas the Force did and flowed through all (or so they thought at first). Magic manipulated and changed and there were many aspects of magic that were pursued by the elves.

The magic that went into their clothes, swords and armor happened to be the first things that the Jedi had explained to them in great detail. The metal, Mithril as it was called, was the central ore used in all things concerning armor and weaponry. This metal alone did not need magic to sustain it. It repelled most things. But the elves were a creative species and wove their spells in the metal to shape swords, axes and spears for their use. Guns were not part of their weaponry. When he asked why, Lorn explained to him that elves seldom needed guns when magic was at their disposal.

Then there was the type of magic that the princess was attempting to master; elemental based. She was proficient in fire and air and lightening, but found that earth and water gave her trouble. This didn't surprise him; especially after he learned that the certain base elements of an elf solely depended on their personality. Bellethiel had a chaotic one to say the least. The emotions most commonly showcased were irritation, defiance and friendly sarcasm. The more he observed her the more he could tell when the level of irritation shown meant she was angry; the level of defiance would determine whether or not she could be persuaded to go along with something; the level of sarcasm used determined whether or not she was in a good mood, a playful mood, or bordering on irritation. While there was a certain type of innocence in her countenance that was very charming, he had never seen her sad, angry, or joyful. Even after three weeks, he had figured there would be some indication of those emotions. Based on this, the more aggressive elements came the easiest to her.

Once the princess mastered the five elements she would be able to begin lessons in lightcraft, pure magic that all elvenqueens excelled at and were well known for. The queen, Miriel, told him once while watching her daughter's training with him that her daughter was showing proficiency in the ability to bend light.

The five elements, he later learned, were the basis of elven magic. Each individual elf had their own affinity with an element. Only a certain few could use more than two. Those born of the royal family could manipulate all five. Not even the elves were able to explain that.

With such abilities one would ask why such lowly Jedi were needed to protect the princess of the elves. Sadly, he knew the dark answer.

Qui-Gon felt that, at the moment, the most he and his apprentice were needed for was to become her friends and protectors- people she could rely and depend upon as friends and confidants. They hadn't quite reached friendship, yet. Well, he was certain that the princess didn't view him as a friend. The two of them were more debate and physical/mental training partners than anything else. Obi-Wan, his padawan, was more of a friend to her than he was.

It made sense, the boy was closer to her in maturity, though not age. They challenged each other and confronted each other with little ceremony. But they also got along and spoke of other things besides training and debate (if they ever did so). After the first day Obi-Wan spent as her personal guard the two had bonded in the way a younger brother and a much older sister had. Qui-Gon envied his padawan's ease with her.

It struck him that, in the next week after the princess' coming of age feast, their duty as guards would need to be taken more seriously. Even without the use of the Force, Qui-Gon could sense the growing anticipation of the nobles; especially certain Rhune elves. The fact was bothering her highness, he could tell, but so far the only solution he could think of was to let his padawan distract her with various excursions and interesting mischief they would get up to. Qui-Gon would have thought it too unlike his apprentice to believe that Obi-Wan could cause trouble if he hadn't suspected that the boy was only indulging Bellethiel's need to avoid thinking about the pending influx of suitors and meaningless politics.

_I have squandered my time, _he thought, _I should have made as much progress as Obi-Wan. _

He had time to establish something, but he wasn't sure if he could get her to trust him as much as she appeared to trust his apprentice.

Little did he know that he didn't have to concern himself.

* * *

The first three weeks with the Jedi were not too bad, Bellethiel found herself thinking repeatedly as she followed Obi-Wan into their common room. Qui-Gon followed silently after her looking as stoic as ever. Mentally she found herself displeased with the lack of emotion he showed around her. The man was always reserved, always that one stubborn rock the sea of life kept battering and refused to even erode. She still wasn't sure whether or not she liked him around at all. He certainly challenged her and took the time to employ that brain of hers- the brain that was full of knowledge seldom used.

"We will meet back in an hour to break hour fast?" she asked though her question was directed more at Qui-Gon than at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan would always meet her for breakfast. Qui-Gon did not always do so without a request.

"Naturally," answered Obi-Wan.

The padawan was already through his own door to his chambers as he answered and the door clicked shut a moment after. Bellethiel turned her full attention to Qui-Gon with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

"Will you meditate more or will you join us?" she asked.

Qui-Gon met her gaze passively, "Whatever pleases you, my lady, I will comply."

This annoyed her. She knew for certain that this man could think for himself and seldom needed anyone else to give him permission to do something he wanted to do. This formality he was showing her riled her mostly because he was doing what all of the others were doing; waiting for her to decided for him. She glared.

"How about you think on what may or may not please me and come to me when you can _divine_ the answer?" she replied stiffly before whirling off into her rooms.

When her door closed she took a moment to allow her temper to dissipate. She didn't understand what it was about Master Qui-Gon Jin that frustrated her, but she figured she could make a few educated guesses.

_I want him to be considerate but bold enough to test things for himself. I don't like this passive Jedi thing he has shown, _she thought.

When her anger and frustration abated, Bellethiel moved to her closet to select the dress she knew she would have to wear in court that day. Visiting dignitaries tended to warrant better-dressed princesses.

In all honesty, she couldn't put a finger on why Master Jin's attitude toward her annoyed her so much. She suspected that the man had always been an introvert and her getting angry at him for asking permission to spend time with her shouldn't aggravate her as it did. Yet, she found that when he treated her like he was holding her at arm's length it brought an ache in her that she didn't quite understand. Was it actually hurt she felt? If it was, it didn't make sense. It wasn't like she actually knew the man!

But, maybe it did hurt because of the fact she was well aware that they would be watching over her for a little over a year? Not to mention the fact that he was in a position where the only thing he would never end up doing is watch her sleep. One or the other were with her that often and she figured that it contributed to the throbbing ache she felt concerning Qui-Gon's treatment of her. It wasn't cold or warm, just the same careful respect that nearly everyone else used.

While her mind was occupied with thoughts of her frustrations with Master Jin, her hands and eyes busied themselves with picking out and putting on her dress. Before that she had absentmindedly gathered warm water around her naked form without the use of plumbing or a tub. The bath she was looking forward to would have to come at the end of the day.

The dress she wore was light blue and had short, fluttery sleeves that here there more for decoration than for covering her shoulders. Its neckline scooped in a bowl effect just above her cleavage and showed a fair amount of her upper chest. As she turned to look in her full-length mirror her previous thoughts turned to the state of wear she had on. Her forehead and nose wrinkled with disgust at the sight. The dress' material was almost too light to the point where it would be see-through. Her mother had taken to ordering clothes that were more risky ever since her birth month had drawn to a close.

She sighed and began to undo the disheveled braid her hair was currently in and pull the front of her hair back and out of her face. She wasn't going to bother with anything elaborate that day. She would be sitting in a chair smiling and pretending that the Rhunic nobles entering the castle that day were people she was somewhat interested in.

_I almost feel like I'm this trophy that some male gets to win if he pretends to like me enough and buys me nice things,_ she thought with no little amount of displeasure.

On the other hand, it was rumored that the dwarf king would arrive either that day or the next for her one-hundredth name-day feast and she was looking forward to seeing him. Bellethiel hadn't seen some of the other races since she was a little girl ninety years ago. It excited her that she would be able to see others.

She exited her rooms thirty minutes later and found Obi-Wan sitting on the couch reading. He smiled down at her.

"Master will be joining us shortly, my lady. He's trimming his beard," said the boy.

Bellethiel nodded and sat down in one of the chairs near the fire. Her stomach fluttered as a warm feeling coursed through her. She felt giddy and light headed at the fact. If he was coming then he obviously had an answer to her statement earlier.

"You seem pleased," remarked Obi-Wan from where he sat.

Yes, she did seem pleased. A bit too pleased about this fact and she honestly couldn't put a finger on why that was.

"I just- he rarely dines with us when you are on duty and always goes off to meditate. I am merely- surprised. That is all," she attempted to explain lamely.

From the look Obi-Wan was giving her Bellethiel knew that he didn't quite believe her explanation. Of course she knew that he wasn't going to challenge her on it. He wasn't that secure in their friendship to do that at the moment.

True to Obi-Wan's word, the Jedi Master emerged from his rooms a few minutes later with his beard groomed and in his not-so-formal elven attire. His brown Jedi robes covered him and his apprentice as per usual, but she could tell from the bit of cloth peeking from under the folds of said robe over his chest that it was a forest green tunic he wore. She stood and inclined her head in recognition- determined to act as formal as she could towards him.

No words were exchanged between either party as they walked into the dining hall on the other side of the castle. The three companions walked in silence. For Obi-Wan the silence was calming, but for Bellethiel and Qui-Gon there seemed to be an awkwardness in the air that refused to disperse. She wasn't entirely shocked by this. The tension between the two of them had been growing for months the more he continued to act like a live statue.

When they sat to eat, it was at the head of the table without the queen. Queen Miriel was forced to rise earlier than she usually had to for a meeting with the head leaders of Ylearan and Edunian elves. Bellethiel had voiced her agitation at not being able to see her mother for half of the morning the evening before. The two Jedi sat on either side of her while her uncle sat on the opposite side of the table with-

"Aunt Artemis!" exclaimed Bellethiel with pleasant surprise written on her form.

All frustration she had concerning the older Jedi went away with the arrival of her huntress aunt.

"Hello, Belle," greeted the older elleth warmly.

Belle leaned forward, "What are you doing here?"

Artemis gave her a look, "Why do you think I am here?"

She blinked and sat back with a sheepish expression on her face.

"Oh, right, name-day celebration," she muttered.

Artemis looked over at her Jedi guards and looked to be sizing them up. Belle almost rolled her eyes. Her aunt had opinions about Jedi, she knew, it was why she never went with Professor Moruni to Coruscant.

"How do you like your emotionless guards, Belle? Have they met every robotic expectation we could ever ask for?" inquired Artemis acidly.

Bellethiel sucked in a breath as she winced at the pure poisonous look her aunt shot the Jedi. She wasn't surprised her aunt was less-than-thrilled with their presence. Her prejudice against Jedi was justified though not necessary for the two present.

Qui-Gon glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and Belle smiled apologetically in his direction.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Qui-Gon.

Artemis sat back in her chair with a look on her face that told Bellethiel that the older elleth knew the Jedi understood her meaning and was refusing to clarify. Qui-Gon inclined his head and set his fork carefully on to his plate.

"You are referring to our Code, I believe?" and he was met with a stare.

Lorn rolled his eyes and glared at his sister, "Artie, this isn't the time nor the place."

Artemis sniffed and continued to glare at Master Jinn. After a few moments she made her answer.

"You are not human. Your code does not allow it to be so."

Belle sighed, "Aunt, we are not human either."

The dark haired, blue eyed, woman fixed her gaze suddenly on her niece. It wasn't a hateful or angry gaze, but it was one of irritation and exasperation. Belle winced at the look. Leave it to her aunt to get offended over the presence of two beings meant to protect her.

"We are still beings with thoughts and emotions. We don't try to bottle these emotions up and pretend they don't exist. You take children a few months after they are born and train them with your illogical dogma with this belief that it is the only path to true peace and harmony! And yet you have an interesting turnout of evil bastards seduced by darkness! Again, you train them to be robots without giving them a firm foundation. And then they are easily influenced the moment they begin to question their beliefs!" snapped the huntress.

Lorn placed a restraining hand on his sister's shoulder, "Artemis, calm. These Jedi are not mindless robots and it is unfair for you to refer to them as such."

Belle glanced from Qui-Gon, her aunt, and her uncle with a tenseness about her that she felt whenever her emotions were strained. Obi-Wan, beside her, simply looked confused. She wasn't surprised. Artemis was not an easy person to get along with in the best of times, but when she had a certain prejudice against a person's lifestyle she could be downright nasty.

Her aunt glared at Qui-Gon for a bit longer before standing and taking her leave. Belle winced.

"You, Master Jinn, cannot protect my niece. Not as you are. Not as the person who holds back too much. You will never have the drive or the motivation. You will lead my niece to death!" and with that she whirled away and into the hall.

Lorn sighed and held up a hand to stop Bellethiel from inquiring after her aunt's mood. Even this level of hostility wasn't common.

"Your aunt finished a meeting with the five lords who are the most… adamant about gaining you for their sons. I don't know the particulars of the meeting, but I can guess accurately that there was a certain amount of promise from one of the lords that he will stop at nothing to make you the wife of his son. Artemis wanted one of her own, the hunters and huntresses who know you well enough, to protect you. She feels that our Jedi friends will not have the amount of attachment to you to protect you adequately," he explained.

Belle smiled weakly at her uncle, "I love her, I do, but I think she is blowing this entire thing out of proportion. I'm not in danger."

Lorn sighed, "Belle, you really don't know, do you?"

The conversation agreed to be ended on that note before another argument could break out at the breakfast table. Bellethiel glanced at Qui-Gon every now and then and noted that his emotional walls were built. They made his disposition hard to read which only meant, from what she had been able to tell about him in their short time knowing each other, that her aunt's words affected him more than he was letting on. Obi-Wan, she noted, did not seem troubled and, in fact, looked rather offended.

On the way out of the dining hall Belle placed her small hand against the green of Qui-Gon's elven garb; stopping his exit from her and Obi-Wan's presence. His brown eyes looked questioningly at her with a delicately raised eyebrow. She smiled and made as if to open her mouth, but clamped it shut in the last second. She sighed, squeezed his arm and wished him a good day.

He looked startled as she backed away and headed in the direction Obi-Wan stood waiting for her. Without thinking about why she had tried to give him some comfort, Bellethiel headed in the direction of the audience chambers to meet her mother and the visiting lords. There were some things best left alone.

* * *

Qui-Gon stared after his apprentice and the princess unsure of how to take this turn in the elf-girl's relationship. After the first few days she found that she warmed up to Obi-Wan as a kindred spirit of sorts. Where he was concerned, he was never sure. She treated him familiarly one moment and cold and distant the next. He had resolved to not push his person on her and watch from a back seat. Where his apprentice slowly became more attached to the girl, he distanced himself.

Why that was, Qui-Gon wasn't certain. It wasn't like she hadn't made a few attempts to befriend him and he her, but there was a gulf between them where normal familiarity seemed wrong. It was times like these he wished the planet and its people could be felt through the Force. He had never been so blind in his life yet still able to see. He couldn't understand how the elves managed it. There were few moments in his life where Qui-Gon didn't know how to handle a certain situation. This situation with the princess was one of them.

Of course, he could always begin with referring to her as Bellethiel or Belle like Obi-Wan did instead of highness and my lady. Of course, his apprentice did refer to her by those names as well, but there was a certain playfulness in his manner when he did so that put their charge at ease. The relationship built was slightly unsettling. All Jedi teachings seemed to be thrown out the window in regards to the princess. External attachments were not permitted. Obi-Wan was most open to such ideals and he practiced keeping his focus squarely on the Force as his number one priority. It was the way of the Jedi.

Illearia in on itself was a major distraction from the Force. The elves were probably the most distracting with their otherworldly feel and looks, but the princess was even more so. She was so much of a distraction that Qui-Gon felt himself unable to meditate in her presence during their meditation sessions. After a while he resorted to calming himself and reflecting on his life, situation or emotions as they were teaching her to do (it became apparent early on that the princess could not bring herself to meditate). He would meditate out of her presence in his rooms where merely hearing her breathe became a distraction.

This thought gave him some pause. He wondered, as he opened the door to their common room, why simply being aware of her was such a distraction for him. Obi-Wan didn't have such trouble as far as he knew. In fact, Obi-Wan seemed to be able to meditate easily. Qui-Gon resolved that he would speak to his apprentice about the problem later… or maybe not. Where would he begin? He knew it wasn't the fact that the princess was a general elf. He had meditated in the presence of Professor Laurel Moruni many times in his youth when he was a little older than Obi-Wan. He had also recently instructed Lorn in ways to help maintain a calm and collected temper when faced with his headstrong niece.

As he removed his brown Jedi robes Qui-Gon chuckled slightly at that. Lorn probably needed the patience and calming techniques more for his temperamental sister than his stubborn niece. It explained where Bellethiel acquired her temper, at least. He still had yet to place her stubbornness and suspected that it came more from her attempting to emulate her mentor than something inherited.

With his robes neatly folded beside him, Qui-Gon settled onto the velvet couch and removed his boots. When that was done he folded his legs under him and made an attempt to meditate. After thirty minutes he sighed and gave up on the attempt. His mind was too clouded and confused. The chasm between himself and Princess Bellethiel was most if not all of the problem. The jibe at his inability to protect the elleth properly was a smaller part of it.

He stared at the empty fireplace with a frown marring his features. The huntress had meant that for him and not for his padawan. He wasn't surprised. Obi-Wan's friendship with the elf was evident as was his distance from her.

Suddenly he caught sight of something white from the corner of his eye and jumped up in alarm. He relaxed when he realized that the visitor was Ailya, one of the Eldar. The blind seer, because she was apparently blind, stared right through him with her milk-white eyes. He suppressed a shudder. Her eyes were still disconcerting.

"I did knock, but you were too immersed in the attempt at meditation to notice," came the soft, almost raspy voice of the old elf.

Qui-Gon inclined his head, "My lady Ailya, forgive my inattentiveness."

She smiled at him, "I felt no offense. I used the time to study certain instances of the future and the past flowing through my head. Some moments in time are uncertain, but others are set in stone and very clear. I fear that there will be no way to avoid them."

He nodded and motioned for the empty space beside him on the couch.

"Please, take a seat?" he offered.

She nodded once in thanks and moved her tall, but thin form over to the couch. She was as graceful as ever despite her handicap.

"It is the present, however, where I see the most uncertainty and possible danger. This uncertainty revolved around the relationship you do not seem to have with my princess. Nothing seems to be established and, therefore, a certain amount of trust has not been acquired. It is, Master Jinn, trust between the protector and the protected that will make all the difference," she immediately got to the point.

Qui-Gon smiled ruefully at that. As far away from home as he was, it seemed that there was always going to be someone like Master Yoda ready to tell him where his mind was ultimately wrong.

"How can I establish trust between her without building attachment between us?" he asked.

Ailya's stare almost made him shiver as she answered, "You can not. You must form an attachment. There is no other way to better protect her. She must not be allowed to be broken or all will be lost."

"Obi-Wan will surely-."

"Not be enough," interjected Ailya before he could object too much, "I see the future and it is the bond you two will share that makes all the difference. _There is no chaos there is harmony_. The more you back away from the bond the more chaos you will create. The bond is the harmony. You must establish it."

The conflicted, agonized, look on Qui-Gon's face betrayed the torment rolling within the confines of his mind. He was, in all intents and purposes, a different sort of Jedi who followed a looser interpretation of the Jedi Code. He believed in forming friendships among his fellow Jedi and alliances among those who were not, but becoming so close as to establish a bond between himself and a person he would have to part from in a year or so went beyond the bounds he established for himself. The only bond he kept was the father-son relationship between himself and Obi-Wan.

"What sort of bond is needed?" he asked.

"Protector," she replied simply.

He felt confused as he replied, "I am already that."

Ailya looked amused, "No, you are her guard. You are simply there. You may instruct her on how to calm her temper and practice the art of swordsmanship with her, but you have not earned the bond of protector."

"I am afraid that I do not understand your meaning," he told her.

"Do not lie. You understand. You simply wish to perpetuate denial," she said pointedly.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't need any more close attachments. The few he had brought him close to the dark side quite a few times in his life. There was also the matter of the type of attachment he would form with her. It wouldn't be like the one Obi-Wan had. It would be closer. That much was evident or else Ailya wouldn't be so adamant about its formation.

He felt a soft, comforting hand on his forearm and he looked up into the milky eyes of the seer.

"A mere seer is one who receives flashes of images of the future. A mere prophet receives the future and the word of Eru. I am both. I see all outcomes and am compelled to advise those who most need it. It is the will of Eru that you and the princess form a bond. The type of bond, I cannot say, but I know that it must be formed," she said.

"I don't serve the will of Eru," replied Qui-Gon in a small voice so unlike his normal calm but strong one.

Ailya smiled and stood to take her leave. Qui-Gon was left with a phrase to reflect on alone in the strengthening daylight that filtered through the window of the common room.

"Everything serves the will of Eru, even the Force."

* * *

Laurel breathed in and out slowly while taking in the fresh, earthy, scent that were the gardens of the Jedi Temple. The trees were not those of her home world. Those had been destroyed long ago when the elves and humans lived isolated on a different world. She closed her green eyes and allowed the artificial wind to caress her face. It might have been an artificially grown garden in an building in the middle of a city, but it still called to her elven senses like all forest places did. She was first and foremost and elf. Nature would always be her calling and this was about as close to nature as she was going to get.

Her sensitive ears picked up footsteps approaching her from behind and she smiled. She knew who it was.

Knowing that it was best to get the scolding over with, Laurel clasped her hands behind her back and turned to face the dark skinned human Jedi with a smile. Seemingly unaffected by her elven charm and beauty, Master Mace Windu folded his arms and fixed her with a stern look.

"This place is reserved for Jedi only," he told her sternly.

She shook her head, "Mace, I seem to remember having this argument with you twenty years ago. If I recall correctly, I had won it."

He sighed and continued to approach her until he was but a few feet away.

"Professor, why must we have this conversation every time we meet?" he asked.

She was genuinely confused. What conversation? This one?

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said truthfully.

His face seemed momentarily strained, but he hid the emotion expertly as he always did.

"I think you know what I mean," he said evenly.

Laurel raised an eyebrow, "Mace, I am over sixteen thousand years old. I have many different conversations. They all tend to mull together over a period of time. If I recall, we have had many conversations in our lifetime. In fact, we have kept in contact with each other for sixteen years. We talk of many things and I would appreciate it if you would specify."

The look he fixed her with suddenly left her in no doubt about the type of conversation he was referring to. Upon realization she sighed. Why was it that, every time she entered the Temple, everything had to come back to that?

"Mace, for Heaven's sake, I'm not here to renew anything concerning that incident, as you like to call it! I'm here because there are little to no trees on this planet and I happen to like plant life!" she snapped in exasperation.

There was an awkward silence that settled between them. Finally Mace sighed and unwound his tense emotions.

"Forgive me, Laurel, I was out of line," he said softly.

A soft smile graced her lips as she met him squarely in the eyes.

"You never need to ask forgiveness from me, Mace. I always will," she left the sentence open as if to allow him the luxury to finish it himself.

He nodded.

"Qui-Gon is still conflicted," he stated, "and Obi-Wan has formed a friendship. It is my guess that it is with your princess.

Laurel shrugged, "Well, it is nice to know that her royal pain in my ass has at least some charm. Sometimes I wonder at her having any."

He looked exasperated, "An attachment like close friendship is dangerous for a Jedi Knight. I am convinced that Qui-Gon is worried about the repercussions of what such bond could bring, thus the conflict within him."

Laurel crossed her arms and mirrored the look Mace Windu was giving her.

"Even if that really was what Qui-Gon is conflicted about, which I do not believe it is, there isn't much you can do with it. They have to establish some sort of loyalty with her or else they cannot protect her properly," she said with conviction.

He fixed her with a severe look and Laurel almost rolled her eyes. She met elleth and ellon aplenty who could turn, quite literally, melt mithril with their stares! Mace had a long way to go before he could ever intimidate her.

"You know our customs, Laurel. Why did you ask for two Jedi when you know that your princess can't be protected by mere guards?" he asked.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Sometimes, she could feel the weight of her age bearing down on her.

"I gave you my reasons. Master Yoda seemed to think it was a good idea; especially in Qui-Gon's case. If he can form a bond with her as a male companion, then I bet her expectations for how other males treat her will skyrocket. I need them to protect her from a myriad of different things, not just physical injury and her father is dead. Her aunt and uncle are too busy to take up the mantle as her mentors in life and, to be honest, I sincerely doubt they'd know where to start. They're too high strung! Belle, Artemis and Lorn will just feed off of each other. She needs friends who are concerned with her as a person and not as a princess," she glanced away from him with a pained look on her face, "I can't protect her. I need someone who can."

Mace continued with his stern stare for a few moments longer before his gaze finally softened. Laurel watched as he tentatively reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It is my experience that every master becomes more of a parent to their student than their actual parent ever was," he said in an effort to comfort her and tell her that he understood.

She smiled a bit and reached up with her peach hand to grasp his dark one. Laurel met his dark brown eyes with her pain-filled green ones. A few unspoken words only the two of them would ever share passed between them before they parted from each other and went their separate ways.

* * *

Qui-Gon was to be found in the library of the palace leafing through the volumes of books that pertained to elven society and the importance of close bonds. As he researched, everything began to make sense. One thing that took hold was the reason why elves were always so close knit with those they considered friends or swore undying loyalty to. Each bond was a degree of love. Love was the greatest commandment in elven religion. They even had to love their enemies; something that they and the Jedi agreed on.

This led to a tangent on understanding their religion and Qui-Gon discovered that there were many similarities between the Jedi and the elves save for a few glaring differences. Most of which occurred in disagreements with the Jedi mantra.

There is no emotion, there is peace was one of the first glaring differences. Emotions ran deep within the elven race. All attachment was based on emotion. Compassion for all was encouraged. While they well regulated their emotions they showed them often and many of their youth were known for making impulsive decisions. Qui-Gon had his own misgiving about that line of the Jedi mantra, himself, and normally centered his philosophy on how it used to be written. Still, he kept most if not all of his emotions at bay most of the time and rarely let others see them.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge was another. The elves, apparently, seemed to hold a lot on the importance of actual knowledge. Truth was important to them as well as wisdom. They distinguished between the ignorant and the knowledgeable as well as pointing out that knowledge did not necessarily mean wisdom. The Jedi held no absolutes, so of course the conflict of belief was clear.

There is no passion, there is serenity. The elves apparently did not believe that either. Elves were passionate about their work. They held passion for their religion which, he conceded, wasn't much of a religion. They were passionate about their relationships as well. Friendships, marriages, vows of protection, everything was taken seriously when it came to both passion and serenity.

There is no chaos, there is harmony. The elves apparently believed in entropy (something that he did agree with) and believed that chaos and order existed simultaneously and constantly battled against each other. The path to harmony was through the acceptance of the existence of chaos and learning to deal with it. Jedi rejected chaos and held to order. He even believed that. Chaos did not exist and order would always prevail. They believed that first was order than chaos came and everything then on was born from chaos and destruction. He believed that all life forms were basically good. They believed that all life forms were basically evil and that it is the evil nature that had to be controlled; balanced out. Filtered. Understood. Qui-Gon didn't agree with their view but he understood their point.

There is no death, there is the Force. There was death and it is conquered. To die is to gain. Eru is life. Their holy texts were very telling. Qui-Gon poured through the texts about what the elves believed in life after death, saviors, and grace. How one could not obtain a life after death through their own works, but must openly accept and embrace grace. All of that was met with skepticism.

It was in this state of meditated study that Lorn found him.

Over the past three weeks Qui-Gon noted that the elf Lorn sought him out for a good exchange of knowledge and information. The Jedi had to admit that he enjoyed speaking with the Eduna elf even if their views differed.

"I would mistake your interest in our ways as an interest in conversion had I not known you to be very inquisitive," commented the hunter-elf and effectively startling Qui-Gon out of his world of gathering data.

The Jedi Master looked up at the Elven Hunter with a raised eyebrow. There was a slight twinge of annoyance at being disturbed.

"There is no curiosity in me. I am merely trying to better understand my charge," he said coolly.

Lorn nodded as if to himself, "True, that would help when it comes to Belle. Despite what you may think she is very devout in her relationship with Eru."

He noticed the confused look on Qui-Gon's face and moved to clarify, "You have a connection to the Force. She has a personal relationship with the Creator in which she builds trust in his knowledge verses her infinitely finite one. Many elves have this as well as the other races. Sometimes I think the other races have it far better with the Creator than mine do."

Qui-Gon frowned at this. If their god required a relationship with his followers than that would explain a bit more about why the elves valued their relationships with others and felt the need for strong bonds. They were emulating their god.

Lorn sat in the chair across from Qui-Gon with a contemplative look on his face. After a while he finally voiced his thoughts.

"You seem out of sorts, my friend. In fact, I've never seen you this high strung. Don't deny it, I can tell. If you tell me the problem I promise that I will give aid," he said.

Qui-Gon considered the pros-and cons of sharing his thoughts with the older male and finally decided that the pros outweighed the cons. There were things he needed to know.

"I am being told by your seer that I must go against the teachings of the Jedi to protect the princess," he finally answered after much thought.

Lorn shrugged, "If it's the right thing to do, you must. You're not renouncing the Force because you're forming an attachment. In fact, I would say that you're placing her needs above your own," he obviously caught the look that Qui-Gon was giving him because he sighed and went on to say, "You are worrying too much. Attachments are what help us keep perspective in terms of the world around us. Attachments force us to place the needs to others before our own."

Qui-Gon was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected such an easy loophole. Lorn laughed.

"I really do not know what you are so concerned about, Qui-Gon. I know my niece well enough to know that she will appreciate the genuine attempt. She has little friends these days as it is," Qui-Gon observed the momentary flicker of sadness that crossed Lorn's eyes as he said this, "As long as you, yourself, wish to form a bond of friendship I cannot see how anything will go wrong."

Qui-Gon kept his piece at that comment. He didn't want to alarm his elf-friend by telling him that he suspected that whatever bond he would form with his niece would end up becoming a bond beyond friendship. How far beyond, he still could not decide. Lorn was right about one thing. He should not worry about it. If it was the will of the Force, or Eru according to Ailya, then the situation would work out for the best.

* * *

Bellethiel and Obi-Wan left the audience chamber that day both in equally disquieted spirits. Belle's temper was on a short fuse, so short that the slightest annoyance would set her off. Her Jedi friend did not show as much as she felt, but she had no doubt that the words and actions of the elven nobles tarnished his carefully meditated state of serenity.

"Remind me that, when situations such as these arise, to always settle into deep meditation before beginning such a day," stated Obi-Wan dryly.

Bellethiel snorted and shot back, "Remind me to challenge your master into a duel this evening. I'm going to need the distraction."

Her friend laughed. Yes, he was her friend. He had proved himself enough in that respect; especially during this day. The White Council was as silent and passive as ever. Ailya, her only comfort when Professor Moruni wasn't available was mysteriously absent. It had taken Obi-Wan's hand resting on her arm to stop her from 'accidentally' setting ellon like Vanyo Undbegyr on fire.

"Should I warn him of the nobles coming from the eastern woodlands? Something tells me that even they will try his patience and my master has a wall of patience nearly unbreakable," asked Obi-Wan.

Belle shrugged, "Since I plan to spar him this night whether he likes it or not, I will tell him. I will require him to be prepared and level-headed tomorrow so that he may keep me from doing something I will ultimately regret."

They entered the common room to their living quarters conversing about the abominable way the five elven lords of the Rhunic peoples seemed to be hell-bent on re-acquainting their lines with the royal throne. Qui-Gon was surfing through a book he borrowed from the library. They sat on either side of him.

"Lord Raenion seems to believe that his son is intelligent!" complained Belle to Obi-Wan from one side of Qui-Gon.

The big man didn't even seem to acknowledge their presence. Both continued on their tirade.

"At least he wasn't attempting to become acquainted with your legs like Sir Taurinos! I cannot stress the amount of instances where I had to literally kick him away from you!" exclaimed Obi-Wan.

"Next time do not hesitate to inflict injury. Serious injury. It will result in less of a hassle for me!" she replied with an indignant 'humph'.

"What is this?" asked Qui-Gon now seemingly out of his reading daze.

Belle and Obi-Wan did not hesitate to immediately inform the man of what exactly went on in the audience chambers the entire day. Queen Miriel was as weak as ever- full of fear of the five lords under her rule- and practically agreed with everything they said. The five lords bragged about their sons while their sons attempted to gain Belle's affections in the most inappropriate of ways. After a few more particulars were relayed, Obi-Wan resigned himself to his rooms for a much needed early night (including meditation) and left Belle and Qui-Gon alone together.

With a groan of frustration, Bellethiel leaned back against her couch and tossed one arm over her eyes.

"This will happen tomorrow, I presume?" asked Qui-Gon.

She nodded from under her arm, "Unfortunately."

She started when she felt his large hand rest gently on her knee. She moved her arm to her forehead and shifted to look at him. His brown eyes stared at her intently.

"You are tense," he stated.

She let out a breath of humor, "Complaining about them does not help, contrary to popular belief."

The slight quirk of his lips told her he was smiling at her comment. Belle suddenly became more aware of the light touch of his hand and was glad for the dress that separated them. Goosebumps were erupting up and down her leg and she wasn't sure why that was.

"What will help?" he asked.

She smiled and automatically answered, "Sparring."

He chuckled, "Violence is not the answer."

Her mood began to lighten as the humor of the conversation began to take hold of her homicidal emotions. She giggled. It was a stupid giggle. It made her sound girly, but there was no helping it. There were few people in the universe who could even coax such a sound out of her and he seemed to be able to do so with little effort.

"No, it is the question and the answer is yes," she retorted.

He seemed to understand that she was partly joking because his reply was thus, "We will be using blunted swords with a comfortingly rounded end."

"If it will make you feel safer," she quipped.

He cocked an eyebrow with the question hanging in the air. She nodded and removed the arm covering her forehead to hold out for him to help her to her feet. Her hand engulfed in his larger one did weird things to her stomach that she was not used to experiencing and a nervous smile met her lips. Why was she anxious all of the sudden?

"Let me change out of this infernal dress and we shall head to the training grounds," she said and quickly moved to her rooms.

She did not neglect to notice the quickening pace of her heart as she spoke then moved away from him.

* * *

He was waiting for her when she immerged clad simply in a loose green tunic and brown leggings. Her hair was completely tied back in the customary braid she wore when training and she was slightly breathless though the reason for that was unknown to her. She hadn't been rushing to ready herself or anything, had she? Of course not!

He was dressed in his traditionally simplistic Jedi robes. In his hands rested two training swords.

Bellethiel raised a questioning eyebrow. How did he know where her swords were? Qui-Gon caught the slight confusion and his brown eyes twinkled slightly in humor.

"As your protector it is my business to know the position of all things in the common room, blunted training swords included," he told her.

She laughed and caught the one he threw at her before following him out of their living quarters. As they traveled down the halls in a comfortable silence something he said and done earlier suddenly struck her. He had referred to himself as her protector! He was beginning to open up to her! The sudden change in behavior and reference to himself startled her and she glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. He didn't seem aware of anything being odd. In fact, he seemed his normally reserved self.

As they rounded the corner that led into the lower levels of her home Belle considered the sudden change. It wasn't like the two of them hadn't tried to befriend the other before. He had, of course, made the first move. She made an attempt to return it the next day. For the first week of his arrival Belle found herself growing closer as a friend to Obi-Wan instead of Qui-Gon. It was an ironic thing since the master presided over most of her protection. Every attempt the other made to befriend each other left them in a confused, awkward, and socially tense situation. Neither knew how to react to the other. After the first week each gave up. She certainly remained as playful and familiar as she was with everyone; especially those guarding her, but with Obi-Wan there was a comradeship that didn't seem to form between her and Qui-Gon.

What made their interaction this night any different? She glanced over at him again as he opened the glass door that led into the grounds of the castle. This time, he caught her eye and the strange warm feeling erupted in her stomach again. She smiled and looked away hoping to hide the blush that appeared on her cheeks. Belle felt strange. Again. It was the feeling that always seemed to creep into her whenever they were somewhat familiar with the other. It didn't make sense.

"I must warn you, I am used to a lightsaber and not the heavy metal of a sword. My skill may be a bit lacking," he told her suddenly.

Belle smirked at that, "You are in luck, elven blades are made to distribute the weight of the sword equally; especially those used for training. Mine are custom made to fit my light frame, so they are not as heavy as others. If you would like, we can go through a series of practice rounds before we formally engage in practice that you may become accustomed to the weight."

He chuckled, "It may help."

They made it to the training grounds. Preliminary preparations began as Qui-Gon began to experiment awkwardly with his sword. Bellethiel didn't say anything as she casually jabbed, stabbed, blacked and parried with neither of them moving but a few inches from their original stances. After a few moments he held up his hand to cease their practice.

"Let me take a few rounds of general form first before we begin," he said.

She nodded and stood back to watch him warm up. They were basic moves. In fact, many of the moves he used were ones she was taught by her aunt. It seemed to her that the Jedi and the elves had a few things in common, though she was certain that the Rhunic elves did not know the techniques. Rhune elves practiced a heavy style meant for the use of heavy armor and horse maneuvers. The Eduna had no such style and were closer to what Qui-Gon was using though not precicely the same. It dawned on her that Professor Moruni had been right about one fact concerning her argument about letting Jedi protect her instead of elves. The Jedi used different methods of fighting style.

When Qui-Gon was finished becoming acquainted to a metal blade he nodded in her direction to indicate he was ready. Bellethiel rose to her feet with the nod reciprocated.

They readied themselves. Belle's weapon rested at her side while Qui-Gon's came up to an offensive stance with the flat of the blade parallel to his right cheek. She began to circle him and he her. Their eyes met for a brief moment and… she attacked.

Her blade moved for his legs rather than his upper body and Qui-Gon evaded the move with a backwards spring before suddenly laying down on her. Surprised by the sudden barrage of sword strokes, Belle immediately fell into defensive positions while observing the Jedi's attacks. After a minute or two, she figured him out. His form was quick and powerful, aggressive even, but not useful in prolonged battles or confined spaces. His strokes, while quick and precise, were wide and elaborate. She also noted that he only seemed to use his sword for attack and nothing else.

A playful smirk made its way to her lips and she met his eyes for the first time in minutes. His brown orbs were drawn from their focus to hers and widened a fraction. Apparently she suddenly put him on edge.

Belle's left hand suddenly withdrew from her sword and folded behind her back. Her right hand tweeked into a sudden offensive flick that threw her protector off balance and the blunted point of her blade jabbed forward. Qui-Gon jumped back just in time to avoid the sudden change in style and quickly accommodated. She noted the surprise in his eyes at her sudden proficiency in her techniques. This gave her some humor. He apparently had a few notions about nobility that had yet to be stamped out of him.

She grinned and whirled to bring her body past his defenses. Her left hand shifted, sped forward and jabbed him lightly in the gut- winding him.

Bellethiel stepped away from him with her air very playful and light. She met his eyes again.

"My style is no style, Master Jinn. How do you plan to accommodate?" she asked.

Qui-Gon's lips curled into a slight smile as he replied, "Do you know the basic rule of combat?"

A low laugh escaped her throat. It was an odd laugh she never let before and it caught her by surprise though she didn't show it. There was something very… hot, about their playful dance of blades.

"That there is none to be had?" she replied with a question.

His eyes glowed along with the rest of his face and she knew he was feeling the same rush as she. Then Qui-Gon leapt unexpectedly into the air with his sword before him. She brought hers up to block in the last moment before it cracked onto her shoulder.

"Exactly," he said casually.

* * *

Upon realizing that the elf princess was actually adept with a blade Qui-Gon knew he would have to change his fighting style. Following a specific style was pointless. She seemed to follow his mastered Ataru after a minute of its use and accommodated with a single hand style he rarely ever seen. The jab to his abdomen, while not overly threatening, had caught him off his guard. He did not expect her to disregard an honorary code of battle and take matters into her own hands. On reflection, he knew that he should have from the moment they first began.

As they resumed their duel after his brief reprieve to collect his thoughts and adjust his thinking, Qui-Gon reflected on how his movements quickened and became more impressive and simplistically elaborate. It dawned on him about halfway through their session that he was showing off.

Near the end of their mock duel the game changed when he managed to disarm her with his sword. She didn't need it, evidently, when he found himself on his back and his dominant arm pinned above his head.

Bellethiel was grinning down and him as she leaned down ever so slightly. Her eyes shown with the light of the exercise and a predator gaze that nearly unsettled him.

"Do you give, Master Jedi?" she asked in a way that told him she was enjoying herself.

"Yes," he answered before expertly flipping her over and reversing their positions.

Staring up at him from where he pinned her to the ground, the princess' eyes blazed in annoyance, defiance and then satisfaction. The arm pinned between their stomachs grabbed the cloth of his tunic and one slim leg wrapped around his large, muscular, one. She flipped him off of her, or at least made an attempt to, but he re-adjusted his grip on the last second and carried her slight frame with him. She landed on top of him and Qui-Gon wasted no time in pinning her arms on either side of her body by wrapping her frame into a bear hug. She struggled for a few moments before admitting defeat and allowing herself to fall limp against his chest. They were both breathing hard.

Between gasps of air Qui-Gon found himself laughing. It was a genuine flow of emotion that he rarely allowed anyone to see, but with the direction their training session had taken something struck him as humorous.

"What is it you find so," she took a long gasp of air before breathing out, "so humorous?"

He grinned, another rarity.

"Your technique. It is a good strategy to have in battle, but relies too heavily on the opponent not expecting your next move. If your next move is too much for your strength and figure, then you will fail like you have just now," he explained.

"What technique was the one you used at the beginning? I've seen something similar before performed by an Ylearan, but never something quite like this," she inquired.

His hold on her unconsciously relaxed as he let the rest of the tension in his body evaporate. It had been too long since he practiced a duel quite like that. The different weapon, of course, made his arms sore, but he found that instead of feeling tired his body was filled with the anticipation for more.

"Ataru, the fourth lightsaber form with a steady set of strokes. I take it that you figured out the pattern easily?" he asked.

She nodded against his chest, her cheek rubbing against the folds of his tunic.

"I'm sure that you probably had a few moves up your sleeve that you've hidden away in that form, but for the most part it was easy to guess. I learned my fighting style from my aunt, so she taught me more of an assassin's approach to hand-to-hand combat. She taught me various forms first, made certain that I mastered them, and then showed me how to break all of the rules," she explained.

He thought for a second while she rolled off of him. Bellethiel settled down in the set of grass next to him and watched him from under half-lidded eyes in wait of his response.

"Your aunt seems to have trained you with the general assumption that all enemy combatants will not fight fairly," he observed.

He looked over at her and saw the rueful smile that played on her lips.

"I've spend enough time in the deep forests to know that her assumption is accurate. I am also well aware of the fact, as you should be too, that my Rhunic enemies do not believe in a fair battle. In any case, my style is to prepare me for all types to ground battle should any occur. It is the general belief held by all Edunian and Ylearan elves that an elven ruler, be they female or male, must know how to properly fight," she explained.

"I see," he muttered as he digested her information.

The Rhune elves, he noted, did not seem to believe this. It didn't surprise him. A physically weak queen was easier to control than a strong one. Bellethiel was raised to be strong, fair minded, and independent. Unfortunately, her independence seemed to be a huge factor to her personality and she became resistant to what she deemed to be unreasonable restrictions. The Rhune would use this against her; the very thing they hate the most about the elleth.

"Do you know any other forms?" she asked.

"Yes, form three, Soresu, and form five, Shien," he replied.

"But you favor Ataru?" she clarified.

"I do."

There was a comfortable silence between them. The chasm between them was gone, he could feel it, but he wasn't certain about what replaced it. There was something personal about having her head resting on his outstretched arm, her body turned in his direction but never touching his and the softened but slightly curious look in her teal eyes that made him question his regard for her. Whatever this was, it had been present since the moment they met.

"I'd like to see the other two, possibly tomorrow after our next round of greeting stuffy nobles with nothing better to do than decide how to wheedle their sons to the throne," she told him.

He smiled his slight smile again. It always seemed to be a challenge for him to remember to remain as reserved as possible around her. Reservation didn't seem to be natural when alone with her; it never did.

"I see nothing wrong with the idea so long as we are both calm and collected after the fact," he caught her look and amended, "So long that we are calm enough to not let our emotions overrule our thoughts."

She poked him gently in the side, "See? You're learning."

He chuckled and turned his head to gaze at the twilight sky of their world. A few bright stars began to flicker into the growing darkness. Beside him, Bellethiel sat into a sitting position and dusted herself off.

"Speaking of stuffy nobles, I think it may be best to head back," she said.

He sat up with her and then helped her to her feet while trying to ignore how aware he was of her small hand enveloped in his large one. It was surprisingly delicate for a female who could almost expertly wield a weapon.

"I would suggest it," he stated.

When she fixed him with a smile so bright that it blazed through her eyes he realized what had replaced the chasm between them. He was attracted to her.

_**To be continued...**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**The Wizard**

**Author's Note: **_Updated within the same month again! Woot! Sadly I doubt I'll get chapter four up in time to declare a three-in-a-row title, but I tried! Even if you guys aren't formally following this story I would like to thank everyone who is reading this fic. _

_"The Wizard" is a Blind Guardian song title. This chapter introduces a character who will be most influential in the rest of the story. Think Gandalf from LOTR and you'll understand (though he's not Gandalf, I swear!)_

_The next chapter will probably take me a lot longer to write since I'm setting the stage for Professor Moruni's return, staging and implementing action scenes (finally!) and gearing up for the fifth chapter that will set everything into motion. Sorry about taking a lot time to get to this point, but it was important for me to establish the relationship between Qui-Gon and Bellethiel first. _

* * *

For the remainder of the week pending her name-day feast, Bellethiel spent most of her daytime hours greeting nobles. It would have been unbearable for herself and her two guardians if it were not for the fact that other races were involved. She greeted fairies, the dragon king, Yleara and Eduna elves, centaurs, fawns, dwarves, and several others littered the castle much to the Rhune elf nobles' distaste. Bellethiel loved the change of pace and took the time during the day to converse with as many of them as possible while introducing her guardians to the rest of her people.

She spent her evenings training with Qui-Gon. The man had a skill with physical combat in general that Belle was well aware she'd never have. Aratu was certainly the style that defined him. She would watch him practice all of his known forms from the corner of her eye and observe his style. Belle had seen elves train through their various physical combat forms, but none she knew had the grace and fluidity that Qui-Gon possessed. It only took her a few days to realize that she loved watching him practice.

Obi-Wan would be trained by his master every morning. Sometimes they trained using lightsabers and other times they would practice forms of meditation. It was as interesting to watch the older Jedi teach as it was to observe his lightsaber practice. Qui-Gon treated Obi-Wan gently; always encouraging and showing his apprentice what he did wrong if he made a mistake.

Belle would observe their master/student interaction idly while she practiced her magical duration to sustain elemental spells. It was, as she and her Jedi guardians found out, a form of meditation for her that allowed her mind to mellow and relax.

On the morning of her name-day feast Bellethiel sat with her legs tucked under her and both hands resting flat on her thighs. She wore a black tunic and leggings for the purpose of practicing her firecraft. Several balls of burning fire floated around her at different speeds and her mind was set on maintaining each individual flame's temperature, burn rate, and speed. With one part of her mind focused on her personal task, Belle allowed some of her attention to wander to where her friends practiced.

Qui-Gon was explaining an exercise to Obi-Wan, of that much she was certain. Belle wasn't paying too much attention to what it was he was saying and mostly watched to see what they would do. The older human then began to remove the layers of his Jedi tunic. His padawan followed in suit. Belle blinked, felt her control of the fire waver slightly and forced her full attention on keeping the flames afloat the moment she saw a bare shoulder. She didn't need that distraction.

Once she regained complete composure her eyes wandered back to where her guardians were practicing with bare chests. She had never seen a male's bare chest before, so the sight set her slightly off-balance.

That was what she thought at first, at least, until she noticed that her eyes were focused directly onto Qui-Gon's bare torso. At such a realization, the fire she was attempting to keep steady nearly wavered and she almost lost control. It took every ounce of her will power for her to force her face into a picture of impassiveness. Her cheeks pinked slightly in her effort to keep back the roaring blush.

This was bloody embarrassing!

Qui-Gon, she had come to accept a while ago shortly after she met him, was handsome in his own way. He was no elf male, no doubt about that, but it did not stop his general appearance to be described as handsome. He was, however, not beautiful. At least, that was her first thought. After all, the Jedi seemed to dress more conservatively than the elves- which was saying a lot since it was only two-hundred years ago that the elves approved of females wearing tunics and leggings. His apprentice was between handsome and beautiful. Belle could admit that without much of a bat of her eyelid.

Qui-Gon's body, however, was a shock to her. He was a big man, not in the way of too much fat-weight- but big in the sense that he was tall with broad shoulders and large muscles. At such a rare ability to observe those muscles practically up close, Belle couldn't help but gape. He really wasn't as big as she first believed him to be. Oh he was still a tall and imposing figure, a definite alpha, that much was certain, but there were a few subtle differences to her original assumptions. Those differences concerning reality winning out over fantasy improved whatever attraction she felt for him. His muscles were lean and large, not too big and imposing as she first thought. His physic might have been large, but his stance and demeanor was comforting.

It was a bit of a contrast to what his face showed- the beard and the long hair. The clothes he wore were plain and simple. He would sometimes even allow his appearance to slacken off (something that the Rhune elves frowned upon and thought too dwarvish). She suddenly found herself wondering what was under the beard. He had minimal wrinkles on his face. Most of what he had were laugh and frown lines. Other than that, from what she had seen, he seemed to be a man in his thirties. Of course, she learned early on before they became friends, he was a lot older than that. The human was in his mid-fifties! Apparently the Force really did do wonders for a mortal's longevity.

It took her a moment to notice, but she realized that all of her fire went out and let out a soft curse. Blast that man for making this the week where she found herself gaping at him like some prepubescent elleth! What made it even more irritating was the fact that he didn't even realize he was doing it!

They began to train in their normal, elegant, lightsaber dance. Sweat beaded along the hollows of their muscular bodies as the heat of the mid-spring sun bore down on them in the early morning. She doubted that the humidity helped the matter.

Belle made a valiant attempt to return her attention back to her studies and regain a bit of calmness in her mind through the flickering flames of fire. Fire, unfortunately, made her think of a few rather hot thoughts popping into existence about the Jedi Master a few feet away from her. After the third time she lost her concentration because of a skin movement made by the man, she gave up. She couldn't do this right after being suddenly exposed to a very, dare she say it?- exposed Jedi Master.

_Does he know that he actually is attractive under everything or is he that blissfully unaware? _She wondered.

It was a valid question, but also one she did not intend to ask him any time in the near future. Belle knew how the Jedi felt about attachments. She knew that her friendship with both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan could easily be considered unorthodox but necessary.

After what seemed to be about fifteen minutes, they both deactivated their lightsabers, completely soaked with perspiration. Bellethiel stood and began to wave her arms in a closed circular motion around each other. Her eyes were closed (mostly so she could better pretend that Qui-Gon's bare torso didn't exist) and she was willing the oxygen and hydrogen molecules to bond and forma around her hands. Soon she opened her eyes to find a sizable ball of water floating between her hands.

She glanced up at both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon who were looking at her with questioning glances. Belle smiled sweetly as she willed the ball of water to separate into two. Then she flicked her wrists.

SPLASH!

In a moment both men found themselves drenched in cold water. As he sputtered and spat, Qui-Gon had the grumpiest look on his face that nearly drove Bellethiel into tears of laughter. Obi-Wan simply looked passive as he wiped his face off as best he could.

"My lady, what that remotely necessary?" asked Qui-Gon as he folded his arms.

Belle smirked, "I thought you would wish for a faster way to cool off?"

"That is seemingly sweet of you, but your affinity for pranks leads me to suspect ulterior motives," the older man replied evenly.

Belle shrugged, "I will admit, it was funny."

He fixed her with his blue gaze. That coupled with the fact that she was dealing with her flustered feelings at seeing him with no tunic on made her blush. His lips quirked up just a little bit.

"Only marginally," he said diplomatically.

Belle, glad for the distraction of being playful and sarcastic, rolled her eyes and concentrated as she slowly waved her hand. Their drenched appearance suddenly became cool and damp as she extracted most of the moisture from their bodies.

Obi-Wan nodded in thanks, "You're getting better with water."

Belle laughed and echoed Qui-Gon, "Marginally."

A long, drawn out, chuckle echoed from behind the three of them. Suddenly on edge, the two Jedi activated their lightsabers and a flaming ball of fire appeared in Bellethiel's hand. All three of them relaxed when they realized that the person who laughed was an old man with a grey beard wearing blue robes. He was leaning on a white staff shooting the three of them a most amused smile.

She recognized him and nearly ran to throw her arms around him, but respectfully kept her peace.

"Maf! I haven't seen you since… what was it? Last year?" she asked warmly.

Maf chuckled and approached them. His staff was obviously there for him as a cover because the old man didn't seem to need it. Belle, though, knew what it was for and reached out to grasp Maf's offered hand into hers.

"You're on the wizard council," she said.

"Ah, yes, hence the white staff," he looked at her for a few moments before continuing to say, "its been too long, Belle."

"Its been a year."

"Hence it being too long. I should have stayed," he said with conviction.

"I lived," she shot back.

He glanced at the two Jedi behind her both looking confused and curious at the exchange.

"I noticed. I heard rumors that Jedi were your new guards, but I hadn't assumed that they would elevate to protectors," he said dryly.

Belle rolled her eyes and turned to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan with a smile.

"Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, this is Mafortion the Grey Wizard. He's a half-elf, one of the oldest and is the first son of Professor Moruni," she introduced.

He cleared his throat, "I prefer Maf, if you please? It is a pleasure to meet the men who managed to befriend my princess."

Belle rolled her eyes, "You speak as if I'm the most difficult person to get along with!"

He snorted, "Its not an understatement."

* * *

Qui-Gon's impression of the older man was one of curious interest. He had pointed ears, that much he'd noticed, but he also wore a long grey beard and hair. His outer robes covered the simplistic dark blue slacks that peeked from under their hem. He was also old. Very old if he was Laurel Moruni's son. It also seemed that he and Bellethiel were close. The way she treated him was with a certain amount of familiarity that even she did not even show towards himself and Obi-Wan. She was gentle with him and warm; not as sarcastic as she was with him and Obi-Wan. A small twinge of something stirred within him and he worked to quell it as quickly as possible. He should not be feeling jealous of a person she knew for longer than he. It was irrational.

They walked back towards their rooms and listened intently while Maf told them of his affairs. His apprentice wasted no time in asking questions about what wizards were in general. Qui-Gon didn't blame his padawan's curiosity. The Jedi were constantly referred to as wizards, mystics and magic users so finding out what real wizards were like was a rare privilege.

He noticed that Bellethiel dropped back to walk beside him while Obi-Wan consumed her old friend's conversation. She caught his eye and sent him a pleased smile. The corners of his mouth tilted upward to return it. There was something serene about knowing she was happy.

"When Professor Moruni went to Coruscant, Maf was my teacher," she told him.

He stared ahead, considering his next words. He didn't know Maf long enough to form any opinion of him but-.

"He seems to be a character," he commented.

She chuckled, "You have no idea. Age seems to have refined his sarcasm. On the other hand, he's one of the three most powerful half-elves in Illearia. He's also an occasional councilor as most of the Wizard Council are."

Qui-Gon smiled at her explanation. It was one of the things he indulged her ever since they finally made peace (he finally made peace) with their natural inclination to be closer than they ought. He learned on day one that she loved to explain the mysteries of the universe to others who would listen. Qui-Gon willingly listened to her unpracticed, but well researched, knowledge with no little amount of interest. It was very evident that she was tutored by a historian. Everything she had to say or explain would begin with some sort of background or cultural reasoning behind it.

"Why do you refer to him as the Grey Wizard?" he asked.

Bellethiel giggled. That giggled caused his lips to quirk into a smile again. It seemed to be the norm for him whenever she did something the least bit endearing.

"He's the only wizard with a grey beard and he avoided joining the council for a long time. Most elves refer to him as Maf," she replied.

His brows furrowed in confusion at that bit, "Why?"

She shrugged, "I really couldn't tell you."

"Ah."

They arrived at their chambers and the wizard turned to the princess with an expression on his face just short of beaming.

"Magic lesson, today, Belle! Let's see how much lightcraft we can accomplish in an afternoon!" he practically chirped.

Bellethiel blinked at the sudden order and Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow in her direction. She sent him a sheepish smile.

"I probably will be in his private teaching chambers for the rest of the day," she said.

He inclined his head, "Obi-Wan will be there. I will secure the perimeter of the banquette hall. I will meet both you and my padawan tonight."

She nodded, "Until then, mellon vell." (translation: dear friend)

Qui-Gon was startled slightly. He had heard her speak in elvish a few times in his life, but he never had her native language directed at him. From the intricate raising of Maf's bushy grey eyebrows, the Jedi concluded that whatever she said to him piqued the male's interest.

He also noticed the way her teal eyes suddenly widened and her pale cheeks pinked with embarrassment at whatever she had said to him. Completely at a loss due to the language barrier he elected to simply wait and see who would explain things to him. Bellethiel elected to do so herself.

"I- I called you friend," she stammered.

Qui-Gon noticed the look Maf was giving her. He seemed very entertained by what she had said. Before he could inquire further, however, the elven princess hurried away looking as composed as she possibly could.

He glanced back at Maf as if to gain clarity for what had just happened but the moment his blue eyes met those of their old wizard's the male was shaking his head.

"This is something the princess will explain when she composes herself," he told Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan shrugged and followed the princess into the common room leaving Maf and Qui-Gon alone in the hall. The older human bowed slightly out of respect for the wizard before him and turned to leave. The staff suddenly blocked his entrance into the common room to his chambers.

Qui-Gon turned to meet the suddenly serious look reflected in Maf's green eyes. Those eyes unnerved him. He remembered seeing those eyes on the face of Professor Laurel Moruni. The family resemblance was slightly unnerving.

"Prepare yourself, Master Jedi. This is only the beginning," he warned suddenly and completely out of the blue.

Qui-Gon blinked for a second before nodding his head, "Of course."

As he finally entered the common room he couldn't help but wonder what the Wizard Maf was trying to get at.

* * *

Bellethiel leaned against the door to her bedroom. Her breath was shallow and her heart thudded against her chest like a loud drum. She couldn't believe she had slipped like that! It was one thing to call him 'mellon', but it was another thing to add the 'vell'. A blush adorned her cheeks again and her stomach filled with that warm, tingly, sensation she had been getting lately. Was it embarrassment? She wasn't sure.

Still, what she did was unacceptable! To refer to someone she only knew for a month (as of this day) as 'mellon vell' was, at least, two steps away from calling them 'beloved'! She was glad he knew so little of her language. If he understood exactly what it was she had called him, the man would have been mortified and not confused.

Anyway, it wasn't like she actually thought that highly of him, was it?

Belle pursed her lips and stepped into her bathroom to begin her usual morning process. While she allowed the warm water of her daily shower roll down her naked body her thoughts lingered on the odd relationship she had with Qui-Gon. She was attracted to him. Physically, he was appealing. He was no elf. He wasn't beautiful. Even shirtless with his bare muscles exposed for her innocent eyes to see did not make his appearance beautiful, but it added to his 'handsome' description.

What annoyed her (and what she found was also rather endearing and refreshing) was that he didn't seem to know he was visually appealing. She remembered certain mornings when he would walk around with her completely unkempt and raw in smell. As an elf with particularly sensitive nose, she could smell his definite man-stench. Even when he washed, which normally happened every two or three days, he didn't have a particular odor; he was simply clean.

She inquired about this to Obi-Wan, not feeling comfortable speaking to Qui-Gon about this for reasons she honestly couldn't fathom. Her friend explained to her that his master didn't give much thought to his appearance or how he looked. The man felt that such concerns distracted from the Force. Belle said that, while she could see Qui-Gon's point, it would be better for her nose's sake he bathed once a day. Obi-Wan had burst into laughter (he knew about the over-sensitive nose she and the rest of her race had) and assured her that she was not the first person to think so.

Despite his lack of concern for his appearance Qui-Gon did groom his hair and beard. Bellethiel figured that he had to. Not to do so would cause physical problems and discomforts that would distract him from the Force (speaking from his point of view).

Nevertheless, despite the man's basic outlook when it came to hygiene (aka: enough to remain healthy) he was attractive to her.

Belle rubbed the scented oil that was her shampoo through her long tresses. Her teal eyes stared blankly at the stone shower wall while she did this.

Appearances weren't everything. His appearance would not have coaxed such an accidental slip of the tongue out of her. There were other things about him she had grown… attached to.

She smiled as she thought of this.

Qui-Gon was many things. He was older, not in years, but older in maturity and experience. He had seen more; done more and lived. With his experience came wisdom. He was reserved, more so than his apprentice, and quiet. Despite his reserved nature, he was kind, and thoughtful. His kindness was what drew her first to him. He didn't intrude on her life. He was simply there. He did his own thing and sometimes even gained the disapproval of Obi-Wan, his padawan. He was witty. He was patient, something that she severely lacked. His temperament was level and he rarely lost it. He pursued knowledge and didn't automatically shut out the presence of magic.

The man could also be firm when he needed to be. He never had to yell or raise his voice, but there was a certain change in the air around him that would suggest his disapproval or impatience. He was also what she, and other elves have in the past, classified as an alpha. He had authority at his fingertips. He radiated power underneath his calm exterior. That power was another reason why many of her potential suitors tended to stay away from her. Qui-Gon had made it apparent in the first week that, should he hear a whisper about any one of them harassing her, he would talk with them. Literally talk with them. As in he "accidentally" ran into them the day or evening after the incident and spoke to them in a quiet voice about the general polite treatment of females and the suggestion that the consequences of rudeness and too enthusiastic wooing would be severe. Naturally, in the first week, Bellethiel had resented the interference.

She would never forget what he said when she confronted him about the first three incidents.

_Belle stormed into his room, completely disregarding propriety due to her immense irritation and loss of controlled temper. The man her current rage was directed at sat on his bed polishing his lightsaber facing the door. When he looked up at her and fixed her with a questioning blue gaze she blew into a verbal tirade almost immediately. _

"_What right do you have? How dare you concern yourself in matters that I have already dealt with? Don't you ever, ever, butt into my affairs without my explicit permission! I am not some weak little creature who needs to cry for help every time some unwanted male tries to press his advances on me!" and then proceeded to call him a myriad of obscene words most inappropriate for an elven princess to say let alone know. _

_When she finally ran out of breath thirty minutes later he simply stared at her._

"_Are you finished?" he asked after a minute of watching her pant._

_She straightened up and glared at him, "I will be once you give me a good reason as to why you felt the need to interfere."_

_His lips quirked slightly as amusement flashed in his blue eyes. This almost set her off again._

_However, before she could launch into another long-winded string of insults, Qui-Gon replied, "I was merely tying up loose ends. It came to my knowledge by your uncle that your suitors don't leave you alone despite your efforts to stay their advances. You do not have the luxury to warn your subjects of possible accidents that may occur if they continue with their unseemly behavior. I, on the other hand, do. Have they," he added before she could get another word in edge-wise, "continued to bother you?"_

_She blushed, opened her mouth to exclaim an affirmative, realized she'd be lying, and shut her mouth and averted her gaze from his steady blue. _

"_Then there is no harm done and your peace will continue to be kept the more these boundaries are enforced," he finalized his argument. _

She had been so dumbfounded and angry that the man had literally reasoned her into silence. Belle had whirled out of the room with nothing left to say to him for the remainder of that day. It had been two days later when she went to him to ask forgiveness for all of the obscene names and inferences she said to him. He had forgiven her, too. In fact, he claimed to have never thought of the incident after it had happened.

And things like this built up her regard for him without her ever really knowing or understanding what was going on.

Bellethiel smiled again as she shut off the water and moved to claim her towel. What was wrong with her? How could a mere, middle-aged (in Jedi terms) human stir such emotions within her?

She shook her head. He was a Jedi. Jedi didn't form attachments of this sort. It was best to get such thoughts of attraction out of her head before they blossomed into something that would, ultimately, hurt her. Anyway, it was probably the novelty of meeting a human for the first time. He was older, more mature than his apprentice, so naturally she would find him more appealing. That was what it all was. Appeal. Attraction. A small fascination. Nothing more. There was nothing else that would ever form between them.

Right?

* * *

Obi-Wan yawned and leaned against the tree he was standing near. Lightcraft was as taxing on the observer as well as the learner and watching the princess attempt it made his head ache! He hadn't understood half of what the wizard Maf explained to Bellethiel and what he did understand didn't seem possible. Lightcraft was, apparently, based on the purity of emotion from the user and could only be fueled by joy, bliss, selfless sorrow and love. Lightcraft had its base in the five elements. The better she was with one element, the better her Lightcraft evolved. Bellethiel could harness all five elements. As she progressed in mastering them she was continuously given the tools to master the next level beyond each element.

It was there that Obi-Wan became intellectually lost. He understood the workings of the Force, how it flowed through almost every living thing and bound them together in one perfect harmony. The Force was a living energy and some were better at detecting its presence than others. The Force was peace. The Force was serenity. The Force was knowledge. The Force was harmony. Through the Force there was no death. He comprehended this. He did not comprehend the concept of power.

Magic is a tool. Magic is a gift. Magic is power and any absolute power corrupts absolutely. Magic is given to a select few. Magic is of Eru. Any borrowed magic is sorcery and of Lucifer thus it should not be trusted. There is only good and evil, there is no shade of grey. Magic can either be used to destroy or to create life. Magic bent the laws of life and science. Magic was nothing.

Emotions were encouraged with magic. It was encouraged that magic users form attachments to everything around them. An elven ruler was groomed to be mindful of the people around them and love them as they would their own children. A queen and king were not just the leaders of their people, but also their representatives. What an elven ruler does evil in the eyes of Eru will be revenged sevenfold onto their people and an elven ruler needed to be mindful of the law of Eru.

Obi-Wan could continue on with the many things Maf told Bellethiel as she attempted to gather light energy, but the sayings were endless and he honestly couldn't remember most of them.

"Belle, feel joy! Let the emotion flow through you! Focus on what makes you happiest!" growled Maf from the other side of the forest clearing.

Obi-Wan observed his friend/charge's eyebrows furrow in frustration and frowned. It was hard to feel joy for anything when the old man was breathing down one's neck. The young padawan didn't need the Force to tell him that Bellethiel was on the verge of snapping at him.

Maf seemed to realize this too, because he suddenly changed tactic and knelt beside the elven heir.

"Belle, what gives you joy?" he asked.

Obi-Wan wondered that as well. He had never seen the elf-girl in a mood that went beyond pleasant. What sorts of things could cause her to be joyful?

She lowered her head and Obi-Wan barely caught the words, "I cannot think of anything. History is the only thing that gives me a semblance of bliss."

Maf sighed, "Surely there is something?"

Obi-Wan frowned. Surely there had to have been something?

"I have been content for many years now, Maf. All of the joy has been sapped out of me and replaced with the heavy weight of duty and regulation," she replied.

_She sounds tired,_ thought Obi-Wan.

Maf sat next to her where the elf princess gazed at the candles before her.

"Let's try this morning. Are you saying that my presence gave you no joy?" he asked.

Obi-Wan saw the shocked look on her face. Her lips parted to assure him that she had found joy in his re-appearance, if he could guess, and then widened in realization. The young padawan bit back a chuckle. She was a historian, that much could be easily seen. The princess lived too much in the past and forgot that the present was just as interesting. It was good for her to have people to remind her of this.

Maf smiled and patted the elleth's shoulder, "Try using that."

Looking sheepish, the princess did while the wizard backed away from her so as to give her room to work. Obi-Wan watched Bellethiel closely after this exchange. A minute went by and he could feel a sudden change in the air. The candles before her flickered and then… glinted?

He narrowed his blue-grey eyes. Something happened. The flames suddenly glowed with intensity brighter than the afternoon sun. It stayed for only a few seconds before it flickered back into flame. The princess, for a moment, glowed before the flow of magic completely dissipated. She sagged and her breathing became heavy.

"That's good, Belle," praised Maf.

She looked disappointed, but pleased at the same time as she answered, "Its barely better than last year."

"You haven't been practicing," he pointed out.

She sighed and Obi-Wan felt sorry for her. Something had been wrong that year, she knew.

"Do not feel bad," began Maf as he made his way back to they elf princess and knelt beside her, "this has not been an easy year."

Obi-Wan wondered about that. What had happened before he and Qui-Gon came to Illearia? He had known something had alarmed Professor Moruni to the point where she felt the need to acquire the help of Jedi, but the particulars had never been explained. They only knew what the general issue was.

_I doubt its really my or Qui-Gon's business. And I'm sure Bellethiel will make sure we remembered that fact, _he thought.

The lesson continued for a few more minutes before the kindly old wizard released her from the learning environment. He walked beside her with his arms crossed in a casual gesture and her looking slightly worn out. Obi-Wan glanced over at her and noticed her vacant expression.

"When must you be ready for the celebration?" he asked.

Belle started glanced over at him and shrugged, "When the sun sets. Eight o'clock."

Obi-Wan nodded, "Master should be finished securing the banquet hall, but I'm certain he's inspecting the area around it. Probably even conned your uncle in to helping him."

This comment brought a smile to her face and she replied with some spirit, "Is it a bad thing if I can easily picture Qui-Gon conning something out of anyone?"

The Jedi padawan grinned, "No. Qui-Gon has a way with words and a knowledge of personality. If anyone could con anything out of anyone, it would be him."

She laughed, "Of course!"

They entered the palace in silence. Obi-Wan remained as passively calm as he possibly could to keep his countenance. The mystery of what happened to her in the year proceeding his and his master's arrival was nagging him. Curiosity was not the way of the Force and had to be strictly regulated. It was best that he refrained from inquiring- .

"There is a question on the tip of your tongue, Kenobi, I suggest you ask it before it drives you mad," she said while nodding to a passing servant's greetings.

Obi-Wan sighed. He forgot that the princess was a lot more perceptive then she seemed. Granted, she mostly paid attention to her friends instead of her enemies, but it was still something he constantly forgot.

_I bet she'd make a great Jedi had she ever been born with the Force, _he thought to himself.

Out loud, he said, "I'm not sure if you will answer it."

She grimaced and replied, "I think I already know what the question is, but I would appreciate it if you asked me to tell you. It will be less awkward."

It was already awkward, but Obi-Wan saw the sense in her reasoning and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

"What happened before my master and I came here? What was Maf referring to?" he asked.

Bellethiel remained silent for a few seconds before replying, "Remember when I mentioned my old guards on your first day here?"

He nodded an affirmative and she was compelled to continue, "I was rather… close with the two of them. They were my best friends. We were on a hunting trip in the lighter woods of the Aduna's lands and we were attacked by wraiths. A Knight Elf was leading them," she caught his expression and briefly explained, "a Knight Elf is like your Sith. They are the fallen elves who gave in to the snares of evil. My guards and I battled. One stayed behind to ensure our escape. I fought to remain, but the other bodily carried me deeper into the forest away from the battle. The Knight Elf pursued us and… my guard was struck down before I was rescued by Centaurs. I was injured and couldn't fight, you see? I couldn't stop their deaths as I couldn't prevent my own father's."

Obi-Wan sent her a empathetic look, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

She let out a hollow laugh, "Yes, yes you should have. You need to know what you're going to be up against. It isn't just Rhune Elf nobles forgetting their manners and becoming too grabby, there is a part of my race who's rulers have failed them and have fallen into shadow. If it was just them we had to worry about I would… I wouldn't need you and Qui-Gon," she glared at the ground and continued, "I should be out there with my aunt and uncle hunting those bastards down! I shouldn't be stuck in here about to attend a name-day feast!"

Obi-Wan wisely stayed silent to this. Her mood was one his master was better equipped to handle than him. She was venting; finally letting flow all of her pent-up emotions plaguing her for the past year. He understood her sentiments. He once felt the same way too. The problem was that he had given in to his emotions and the end result was him not being prepared enough to stop certain things from happening. He still lived with that regret. No, she needed to remain in the palace. She needed to train and better hone her skills at magic and fighting.

"You may tell Qui-Gon this, if you wish, I will not mind," she told him suddenly as they came to a halt in front of the door to their common room.

She opened the door and he followed her inside. As the princess made her way to her chambers to ready herself for the banquet, he placed a halting hand on her shoulder. She stopped and turned slightly to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Bellethiel, I understand what you're going through, believe me," he added as he caught her skeptic expression, "but you're here with us because you're not ready to face all at once. I firmly believe that your teacher wouldn't have asked us to come if that had been the case. You're not weak, you're simply not ready. You will be, just not today."

A myriad of emotions flickered through her eyes and she opened her mouth to reply, words caught in her throat, and then closed her mouth again and looked away.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," she muttered and then disengaged her shoulder from his hand and disappeared behind the oak door that led to her room.

_And she didn't believe a word I just said, _he thought, _I will need to consult with Master Qui-Gon. Maybe he can get through to her?_

* * *

While Obi-Wan and Bellethiel were subjected to Maf for the day, Qui-Gon had sought out the company of Lorn who was beginning to become a particular acquaintance to him. Lorn had been enthused when he realized that the Jedi Master was willingly seeking his help in securing the area around the current hall and immediately jumped at the chance to help.

Qui-Gon figured earlier that week he would need the help. He listened to the captain of the elven royal guard explain the intricate workings of the elvish security system and the extra elvish security devices, but it all began to go over his head as the explanation went on. He figured that a little help from someone who most likely used the technology every day would be helpful. Besides that, Qui-Gon liked the company of his elven friend and enjoyed the willing demonstration Lorn gave him for the motions sensors.

At this point in time nearer the end of the day when the two of them would have to part ways to ready themselves for the ceremony (Qui-Gon was basically threatened bodily harm from the princess if he didn't clean up a few shades beyond the bare minimum) they were securing necessary safety measures only to be activated by either Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan should anything happen. Lorn was explaining to Qui-Gon all of the uses the certain traps they were setting up came into play while in the forest. The dangers of the world that Lorn spoke of intrigued the Jedi Master to no end. He hadn't realized the clear and present danger of the forests let alone the presence of deceitful politicians.

"The Knight Elves tend to hide within the darkest corners of our forests, though they have been known to establish themselves anywhere; especially their new recruits. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the lords after Belle's hand were Knight Elves themselves," said Lorn.

Qui-Gon's brows furrowed at the idea. Apparently the elves had their own Sith-like counterparts.

"They assume that the princess is weak," he muttered while checking wires.

Lorn sighed, "She isn't weak, but she is still very naïve and very innocent. Belle has never been jaded by the world. Last spring, when everything began, I would have thought her to have learned her lesson but apparently I was wrong."

Qui-Gon glanced over at his Eduna friend feeling on the verge of inquiry, but stopping himself short should he pry into places where he knew he shouldn't go. The Eduna elf, however, didn't see it that way and took one look at his companion to ascertain his interest before continuing.

"Belle lost her first two guardians during an excursion into the darker parts of the Eduna land. A Knight Elf was responsible. We know this because there are eye-witnesses that go beyond her highness who was badly injured and delirious with grief at the time. She wants to go look for the bastard who did it and, while I understand why, I wish she would understand why it is we do not let her. She's not ready to face a Knight Elf. Her guards weren't even ready to face one. She doesn't understand, yet, that some things a better left to other people," he said heavily.

Qui-Gon nodded to himself. He could see why Bellethiel must have been resentful towards his and Obi-Wan's appointment as her new guardians. This especially, if she was close friends with them.

"She wants revenge," he observed more to himself than to Lorn.

Lorn, however, heard the reflection anyway, "I am afraid so. Even revenge is not something we believe is right. Eru demands we turn the other cheek in this case and not allow our emotions to do something incredibly foolish like go after the Knight Elves on her own. She must wish for justice to be brought upon them by order of law and not by an unlawful execution. We may be in a perpetual war with the Knight Elves, but they are still her subjects. She must treat them with the same respect and courtesy she must with the rest."

Qui-Gon remained silent for a while longer before adding his thoughts. There was a lot to think about. It explained why she took two weeks to warm up to both himself and his apprentice. It also explained her hostility at the beginning. Explanations for everything concerning the disposition of his charge continued to run through his head the longer he thought about it.

_She still smiles, _he reflected, _despite losing the two closest beings she had since her father passed she still tries to smile and pretend that nothing bothers her. For someone who is one-hundred years old she is a bit too naïve of the workings of the world. This is something she should have been prepared for from day one. Elves have long lives. This will not be the first nor the last._

"I'm beginning to wonder," began Lorn as they re-entered the castle, "if losing the people she cares about the most is her greatest fear."

Qui-Gon glanced at him while he kept his head bowed in deep thought. That was another thing he had to consider. In her line of duty and princess of her race, people the elleth would get close to probably didn't last long; especially when there is an enemy at hand.

So, if that was the case (all taken into consideration) why had she taken to him and Obi-Wan so quickly?

"It is possible. The circumstances behind my padawan and I's being here have certainly come to better clarity," answered Qui-Gon.

"Oh?"

"I had often wondered why she needed two human Jedi to protect her. It seems as if the situation was graver than we were first led to believe," there was a slight admonishment in Qui-Gon's tone.

Lorn sighed, "It seems worst, but our problem is that we can't tell if this particular Knight Elf is acting alone or not. My sister and I are inclined to believe that he is not, but Miriel seems to want to take her noble's side on this. The Eldar are on full watch and are prepared to support the princess in every way possible. I cannot say what the Wizards think of all of this. Most of them are traveling nomads or they simply live alone in a small village content with their studies."

"And she's caught in the middle of it," muttered Qui-Gon.

Lorn nodded, "Unfortunately. I doubt the pressure from the nobles and her mother to marry has helped."

"It hasn't," agreed Qui-Gon.

They were in the living quarters set in the west wing of the castle where both Lorn and Qui-Gon resided. The conversation had turned into a more informative air about wizards when the two came into contact with the first elf noble to willingly speak to them. The elf was female and medium height. She glided over to them with a certain air of interest directed at Qui-Gon in her sky blue eyes. Her lips were naturally a light red color and her skin resembled soft cream scented with peaches. She wore a light green summer dress that flowed around her as she walked towards the two of them with a grace that made it seem she glided.

Her smile was equally beautiful.

Qui-Gon suddenly felt awkward. He hadn't seen this elleth before and figured she came into the castle when Obi-Wan had been the one looking after the princess. As it always did with the beauty of the elven female, his mind became momentarily muddled.

It took every single ounce of Force training for him to remain passive. He began to meditate, feeling the need to focus on something. His mind suddenly centered on he and Bellethiel's last sparring session where she was teaching him how to disarm with a steel sword. It never occurred to him to be surprised at how the thought of her seemed to drive all other distractions away until much later.

With his mind level again, Qui-Gon noted that, beside him, Lorn stiffened as the two of them came to a stop. This elleth apparently wanted to speak to them.

"My lord Lorn, it has been a while," she greeted.

There was a hint of chill in the warmth her voice resonated with. Qui-Gon frowned. He knew that particular breed of politician.

"Has it?" came the stiff reply of Lorn, "A mere three months is my actual memory."

She laughed, "And months seems like ages to me! Its does my heart well to see the princess in such fine spirits and in such _interesting_ company. Are humans to be her new companions now?"

Qui-Gon remained silent. It was best to observe this individual before him. Her words were filled with double meaning and he suspected that there were quite a few stories behind them. Judging by the look on Lorn's face, the Jedi decided that those stories could be unearthed on a later date when the hunter wasn't so battle ready.

"Yes, they're Jedi," came the curt reply of his friend.

She turned to Qui-Gon with a genuinely interested look. This set a few alarms off in his head. He was the reason she came to speak with them. His general mistrust of politicians made him very wary of her; especially if she showed interest in him.

In any case it wouldn't hurt to be polite. He bowed.

"I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn from Coruscant , the capital of the Republic."

The look in her eyes that flared for ever just a moment made him want to bolt from the room. Something was up. Lorn apparently knew there was something nefarious going on in that elleth's head because he was fixing her with the most severe look he could manage without being outright hostile. Qui-Gon almost burst out laughing in sudden amusement of the situation. Such a family resemblance!

"Fascinating! I've never seen a human before," the elleth simpered, "I am Bainethiel ven Egire. My family is in charge of the western gardens that border the plains. You must tell me what Jedi do."

Qui-Gon inclined his head, "Forgive me, my lady, but I must leave. The princess will be expecting me in two hours to escort her."

With that he stepped around the elleth and walked away as quickly as he could only feeling guilt about leaving Lorn to deal with her.

* * *

Bellethiel was working on her hair when a knock was heard at the door. Knowing it would be either Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon she called out to let them know she was decent. The door opened to reveal the older human dressed in a simple brown tunic. Despite the simplistic dress, Bellethiel had to be conscious of her jaw so as to make certain it stayed in the small smile she was giving him. He could clean up rather well. His beard was evenly trimmed and his hair was gathered back at the base of his neck. He also had a very faint scent to him that was pleasant and nearly undetectable.

Bellethiel adjusted her head piece some more in an attempt to weave it through her braid. It was not cooperating like she wanted it to.

"I see that you have prepared for the occasion," she commented.

He nodded, "I believe Obi-Wan and I were under the impression that life would be made rather unpleasant for us if we hadn't."

She let out a soft laugh while she wrestled with the thin silver of her tiara. It really wasn't working the way she wanted it to.

"Do you need help?" he asked.

"No," she said in a light but tight voice, "I do not."

The head piece was starting to undo parts of her braid and she let out a curse under her breath. Qui-Gon, though, seemed to have heard.

"Evidently," he said dryly.

He approached her where she stood in front of her mirror and slipped his fingers under hers.

"Let me," he said softly.

Like earlier that day it took all of her willpower to not blush at the feel of his hands weaving the tendrils of her elven tiara through her hair. Realizing that the stubborn man wasn't going to take no for an answer in this case, Bellethiel dropped her hands to her side and patiently waited for him to finish. The gesture was making her feel warm. The concentrated look in his blue eyes reflected in her mirror and she studied them with a face as passive as she could possibly make it.

"You do look nice this evening," she complimented awkwardly.

The corners of his mouth twitched in an upward fashion ever so slightly. She blushed and looked to her side away from the mirror.

"I do not mean to imply that you never look presentable, but-," he cut her off.

"Thank you, your highness," he said.

Her blush depended, "You're welcome."

His fingers clasped the ends of her tiara together and then moved away from her had.

"Finished," he said.

She turned to look at him with a smile on her face, "Thank you."

He didn't reply for a moment. He simply stared at her as if considering his next words carefully. Bellethiel shot him a confused look to indicate to him that his silence was puzzling her. He seemed to have caught her expression because his eyes suddenly softened in their gaze even when the rest of his face did not.

"You look beautiful," he muttered.

Her heart nearly stopped. The expression in his eyes and the small tone of his voice was such a contrast to his normal demeanor! It was such an innocently timid comment coming from someone older and with life experience such as his and it caught her off guard. There was no double meaning behind his words. There was no design. There was no deception. He truly meant what he said.

"Thank you, Qui-Gon," she said after a moment of surprised silence.

She didn't return the compliment as he allowed her to lead the way out of her room. Bellethiel didn't know where to begin or, really, what to say. She did say, earlier, that he looked nice, but that wasn't quite truthful. He looked handsome, manly, pleasant, not like a male elf (refreshingly so).

_I need to stop thinking like this,_ she thought, _I really need to stop._

Obi-Wan was waiting for the two of them near the fireplace. His arms were crossed and his face completely impassive, like it normally was. When they entered the common room he nodded to them.

"One of your mother's maids came by a few minutes ago imploring that we leave as soon as possible. The guests are apparently anxious to see their princess," he told them.

Bellethiel snorted in the most undignified manner she possibly could. Of course they were getting impatient.

"This celebration is more of an auction than a party. I expect to be accosted by male suitors for the duration of the night. Be warned, they have little or older sisters who will have no qualms about attempting to seduce either of you away from me," she said.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as he took his place by his master's side behind the princess.

"No offense, Belle, but I sincerely doubt that you'll have to worry about us becoming ensnared by the whiles of one of you elf ladies," he said confidently.

Belle laughed softly as they entered the hallway in comfortable companionship.

"If you say so, Kenobi," she replied.

Both men let out quiet chuckles as they made headway down the winding halls of the elven palace towards the banquet hall. When they reached the double doors, Lady Artemis stood waiting for them with a blank expression on her beautiful, white, features. That expression softened when she caught sight of her young niece and a warm smile replaced the slightly discontented frown. Belle almost leapt into her aunt's arms as the two embraced as family members often do, each whispering words of greeting in their own language.

Artemis patted her niece's cheek before saying, "I have something for you that I believe you will absolutely adore."

Bellethiel's curiosity piqued and she leaned forward eagerly, "What is it?"

Artemis patted the top of her niece's adorned head and winked, "Patience! I understand that it is a virtue neither of us have, but we must suffer the wait until it is time to give you gifts."

Artemis straightened when she caught sight of the Jedi and gave them a curt nod. Belle resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the display of evident hostility. If she knew anything about her aunt (and she as a lot like her aunt, so she knew much), then she knew that the older elleth would grow out of the hostility soon enough.

_It isn't as if I should judge her. I held the same opinion as she when I fist met them,_ Belle thought.

Bellethiel placed a calming hand on her aunt and smiled, "Shall the four of us brave the tides of persistent nobles and their unwanted advances?"

Artemis snorted in a most undignified manner, "Yes, lets."

They entered the hall and were met with a murmur of voices melding with the motions of the lords and ladies of the great races of Illearia standing to greet the elven princess and her aunt. Bellethiel tread slightly ahead of her aunt to the high table where her mother sat. She almost glared. It seemed as though the five lords and their families had wormed their way to the high status of their race. A very fake smile plastered on her face as she came to a stop in front of the table where her mother stood.

The queen was as tall, regal, blond and beautiful as ever. Her mother was easily the fairest in the room. There was no mistake about that. Next to her, instead of the high wizard or Ailya, the two head lords of Egyre and Undbegyr sat looking as if they belonged there. Belle curtsied to the three of them.

"Mother, my lords, I am honored with your presence," she said as respectfully as she could.

The blue eyes of her mother met her teal ones with a look of relief reflected within them. The tinge of worry and fear could be noted bubbling underneath. Bellethiel had to bite back a bitter sigh. Her mother, it seemed, grew weaker by the day and the weaker her mother was the stronger the lords became. That, Belle decided, was going to change when she was queen.

"Come and dine with us, my daughter," invited the queen.

Belle thanked her mother and the kindness of the lords before she took her seat. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon followed suit after her and took their places on either side of her. They proved to be the barriers between her and two elves she disliked most strongly; Taurinos ven Egrye and Bainethiel ven Egyre.

Taurinos sat on Obi-Wan's left while Bainethiel sat on Qui-Gon's right. Bellethiel waited in silence while her mother gave the coming-of-age speech to her subjects, praised and blessed her daughter with success in reigning and marriage, then passed the torch to Ailya. The prophetess-seer stood with her usual easy grace and met the eyes of her princess with her milk-white ones. She held the gaze as she spoke.

"It is rare, in these fifteen hundred years for our race to be met with a princess as strong as the one who sits before us. This princess is just in her actions and adventurous in thought. She is the product of a sacred union between the Rhune and the Eduna; a rejoining of our race. Your birth was also the product of something which has been lost to the royal line for many generation- the product of love instead of duty. It is my hope and also the will of Eru that you follow in your mother's footsteps to not only repeat that union of love, but to also merge together two peoples and become the bridge between path is long and hard, but the rewards at the end will far surpass anything you can imagine. May your reign be long and prosperous, my lady," with that the seer took back her seat at the table directly to the right of the high table.

The room was left in dead silence. The crowd of nobles among the Eduna, Yleara and races looked rather pleased by such a bold declaration from one of the Eldar in the face of a room full of Rhune elves. The Rhunic lords, on the other hand, did not seem so pleased. In fact, Belle was prepared to assert that most of the Rhunic nobles seemed rather angry at such an assertion. As for the princess, however, she felt more perplexed than anything else.

It was customary for the seer to bless the royalty and speak prophetic wisdom directly to them. It was the one time Ailya was allowed to speak knowingly of the future to the future queen. This would happen again during her marriage ceremony, her coronation and, finally, at the birth of any children she was destined to have before the cycle repeated itself. The subject, the very pointed subject, of love that Ailya mentioned shook her to the core. What did Ailya know? Did she see something? Well, that was a stupid question! The elf always saw something!

Someone was muttering something to her and she blinked, turned and found the penetrating blue gaze of Qui-Gon staring at her with concern written inside of his gaze. She smiled and willed herself to recover. Surely, Ailya was not speaking of him! It was absurd to think so!

"I'm fine," she assured him.

Before either could get another word in, Queen Miriel declared the feast in her daughter's name to begin. Belle almost sighed in relief at this. The distraction of food, drink and merriment would hopefully keep the other lords' minds off of what the seer said.

"Master Jinn, it does my heart well to partake of this meal by your side!" cooed the voice of Bellethiel's least favorite elleth.

Her heart stopped. Master Jinn? Since when did they know each other? Qui-Gon merely nodded in her direction before helping himself to a plate of sandwiches. Belle allowed herself to relax. Apparently he didn't think much of Bainethiel despite the elleth's attempts to get on his good side.

Bainethiel wasn't entirely a bad sort. She could be manipulative when she wanted to be and apathetic the next. She and Belle were never on good terms. Miriel had made a valiant attempt to get the two of them to become friends, but neither wanted it to be so. Belle had always been wild and ready to do things that male elves did like hunt, fight, and study things deeper then rudimentary learning. Baine was naturally feminine in nature and worked to refine her beauty, grace and poise as well as taking necessary precautions to ensure her fertility. Their inability to get along with each other worried both of them at one point in their lives before both decided that there was such a thing as being too different to attract. Then politics were introduced to both of them and the more Bellethiel became vocal about the stupidity of duplicity in the court the more Bainethiel became that very politician. It was the other elleth's wish that Belle marry her older brother. Such had been voiced before and constantly rejected.

Belle was interrupted from her reverie by Obi-Wan's hand on her arm. She turned to him with a raised eyebrow and the two began a conversation about pranks. This was done all the while the princess took care to monitor the words that transpired between Qui-Gon and Bainethiel. Just to make sure that she could intervene when the Jedi became annoyed at the constant prattle about… kittens? Surely not! Did he seem interested? She couldn't tell.

Realizing that she was on the verge of ignoring Obi-Wan, Bellethiel focused all of her attention on the conversation at hand. In this situation, it was probably best to completely ignore the two for the rest of the time they were in conversation with the other.

Of course as Belle began to tell Obi-Wan about the time she sat in a tree above one of the sessions held by the White Council dropping leaves and spring flowers into their tea (her pranks were always harmless when it came to any of the known Eldar) Taurinos decided to make his opinion known.

"It is unseemly for a lady of rank and purpose to climb trees let alone sit in them playing with the plants!" he said sharply.

Both Bellethiel and Obi-Wan fixed him with polite and very disinterested stares.

"At the Temple," resumed Obi-Wan, "one of my fellow padawans always used to convince me to do the oddest things. One time we managed to get a hold of green dye and managed to give the whole of the Jedi Council green robes for an entire day."

An amused Bellethiel smirked as she asked, "Did you get caught?"

Obi-Wan looked sheepish, "I was so nervous about what I'd done I ended up accidentally revealing the whole operation and getting a stern talking to from Master Yoda… after Bant and I cleaned all of the robes and did laundry for an entire month by hand."

Bellethiel burst out laughing. The way her friend related such a tale made it sound as if cleaning clothes by hand was the most horrible thing in the universe. Taurinos didn't seem to find the humor in the situation.

"You should have received a good thrashing for doing such a thing! This Bant character seems to be an unruly sort indeed!" he said.

The look that flashed across the young Jedi's face was almost, but not quite, one of irritation.

"Bite your tongue, sir! It is unjust to judge a person by their actions; especially one we do not know," chided Bellethiel lightly but with an edge of firmness in her voice.

The scandalized look on the ellon's face at being chastised by a female passed over his features for a second before he inclined his head in submission to her will.

"Forgive me, my lady, I was out of line," he muttered with the slightest hint of malice in his voice.

Belle almost had to bite her tongue so as to keep herself from snapping at him. She was determined; however, to be on her best behavior for her mother's sake. She was, after all, an emblem for her kingdom and the peoples of all races looked to her. She couldn't afford to be blunt and honest no matter how tempting it was to be so.

Throughout the seven-course dinner Bellethiel found completely ignoring Qui-Gon in the face of the fact that Baine was taking all of his attention was almost impossible. Every thirty minutes she allowed herself to pay attention to the elleth's words; especially since they involved Qui-Gon, There was something more to her manner than simply wishing to distract the man. Baine's demeanor was very light, pleasing and conversational though constantly on the subject of feminine ideas. She would flip her hair every once in a while. She would lean close to him, touch him with her dainty peach hand. While she noticed that her protector did not seem to react at all to the familiar way he was being treated by Baine, he wasn't telling her to stop either.

That irked her in ways she didn't quite understand. She knew that he couldn't publically be rude to the other elleth. She knew that he couldn't quite say anything without it coming back to haunt him. She also knew that if Bainethiel kept simpering at him, the fire building within her would come out and char her on the spot!

All in all, Bellethiel's strained mood (one that she knew Obi-Wan noticed) hadn't lifted until her mother announced the time for the gift-giving. She had waited for this moment. Her aunt eluded to something that the silver haired elleth was certain she would like and she couldn't wait to see it for the first time.

Each lord and lady stood with gifts given to her from their entire families. Most of the Rhunic lords bequeathed her with dresses and jewels, things that she wasn't entirely interested in, but appreciated for things like giving to the poor and wearing on occasions she may have need of them. Of course, she doubted that she would end up keeping most items given to her, anyway. There were people who needed them more.

The Yleara were next since they weren't her immediate kin and, therefore, had the most interesting gifts. At least her mother realized this much. Five Ylearan lords came forward each with their own unique gift; carved wooden statue of a great stag, traditional garb of Ylearan royalty, leather belts and pouches, assortment of high priced healing powders and aroma spices, and-

Her face was a picture of delight. A horse, led by one of the Ylearan princes, came into the hall. It was a medium sized, small but powerful, white horse wearing a bridle but no saddle. Barely unable to contain her excitement of acquiring such a rare commodity in the forests of both of her people, Bellethiel stood and moved to personally accept the gift herself. The white horse nipped at her hand playfully before allowing her to caress its nozzle. Obi-Wan, who she had motioned to follow her, gazed at it in wonder. She almost burst out laughing. Of course it would be the human, the race that first thought of breeding horses for riding purposes, who had never seen one before.

The Eduna gifts came after. As a people (Eduna were not as in to titles as Ylearan and Rhunic folks were) she received a gift from their local leader, the entity known as the "White Witch" who personally carved an enchanted bow from the branch of a golden røde træ, the rarest oak on the planet. The identity of the "White Witch" was a planetary mystery. No one knew who she was or what she did or why she existed. All everyone knew was that she was of the Eldar, but rarely ever revealed herself, even to her Eduna, all of whom are her descendents. Bellethiel expressed true honor for being singled out by the elleth and gave her most sincere wishes that the witch was doing well. They assured her that she was.

Artemis, as family to Bellethiel, came forward with hers and Lorn's gift to their niece. It nearly sent her mind reeling as much as the horse did if not more. In the arms of her aunt rested a black wolf cub. Enchanted by an animal she only had the pleasure of seeing from a distance on her various excursions into the deeper forests of her planet, Bellethiel took the puppy in her arms as carefully as she would a small child. It licked its small muzzle with a pink tongue and blinked up at her with its bright yellow eyes. She smiled, her heart full of joy.

The rest of the exchange continued with each race coming to her bearing gifts that their individual race excelled in making. The dwarves, a race, bequeathed her with five gifts of armor, swords, knives and various other weapons. The dwarf king came to her, knelt before her as a sign of respect, and held out to her a mithril necklace with a diamond carved as a six point star in the fashion of an old human culture long gone. Pleased by the remembrance of her love of history, Bellethiel accepted the gift with pleasure and was determined to actually wear the thing.

Of all of the gifts Belle received that night, those few were the ones she remembered the most.

The dancing, music making, talent presentations and general merry making immediately followed after. Bellethiel was content to dance the whole night through with the Ylearan elves since their dancing style was most appealing to her due to its wild nature, but such was not to happen. She did dance with all of her suitors, including those she did not like at all. Obi-Wan tended to be her frequent dancing partner when she finally was able to convince him to attempt to learn the slower ones. Qui-Gon seeminglu disappeared for a time and left Bainethiel to dance with other males.

Bellethiel found the stoic man during one of her breaks and an extremely fast dance she traded for Obi-Wan's benefit.

He was content in the shadows with his own company watching the proceedings with grim silence. He raised an eyebrow when she approached him as if inquiring after what she needed. She smiled and joined him.

"Why are you here alone?" she asked.

"Meditation purposes. The elleth, Bainethiel, seems to have it in her mind I am interested in the evolution of female hair products and the elven clothing industry and has spent much of the evening relaying this information to me in great detail. I can't imagine why she thinks I'm interested," he looked as grumpy as he sounded and almost made her burst out laughing.

The humor she had was partly out of relief; a relief she was unwilling to acknowledge any reason to.

"It actually is rather fascinating when you direct the topic towards what she's done to improve it and the impact these improvements made on even Republic dress and natural cosmetic products, but I do see your point. Bainethiel has taken great pains over the years to enhance and refine her natural beauty and she is not accustomed to males not hanging on to her every word," the last part was said with a trace of bitterness in her voice.

"As you are, I am certain. She simply feeds off of it while you are annoyed with it," he observed.

Bellethiel almost rolled her eyes. He was being analytical again!

"You should dance," she suggested as the song began to near its end.

He chuckled, "I do not know how."

Belle laughed, "Neither did your apprentice, though now I'm certain he does now. Come, I have been teaching Obi-Wan all night, allow me to acquire a new pupil!" she said energetically.

She reached out to grab his hand vaguely wondering why she was being this insistent. She fixed him with an imploring teal gaze that met his amused blue.

"Please, my guardian?" she asked endearingly.

His gaze flickered and softened momentarily before returning to its amused state. The corners of his mouth turned upwards almost imperceptibly, but they did so still. Her heartbeat began to race and she felt exhilarated.

"Of course, my princess," he replied.

He was teasing her, she knew, because she called him 'guardian' but the way he said the phrase caused butterflies to erupt inside of her stomach. When the current song rang out its final notes she allowed him to escort her to the dance floor. The next song would require a dance known as the 'tango' and one that she willingly learned due to its fast nature. She taught it to him on the fly giving him quick instructions while subconsciously minding the beat.

It became evident that Qui-Gon was much like his apprentice in so far as he was more suited for slower dances. He did, however, catch on to the movements faster undoubtedly due to his superior experience with fast paced movements. His preferred fighting style, undoubtedly, contributed to his abilities. Still, as it was with the apprentice, by the end of the song they were teasing each other about the other's mistakes, especially hers when she would forget to say something or give him the wrong directions.

Neither noticed the disapproving frowns of the Egyre and Undbegyr lords glaring in their direction. Obi-Wan, however, did.

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Captured**

**Author's Muse: **_Well, as I suspected I would, I got sidetracked on a few LOTR pieces that will be posted sometime in the near future. Anyway, I'm still proud of the fact that I managed to update AGAIN without a three to four month long (or longer) gap between each chapter. Yay! Whether or not I will divert my full attention on the next chapter for the rest of this month, I do not know, but I am confident that I will at least get this to chapter six before I completely cop out. This story has captured my interest for now. Can't understand why, but I'm glad that I'm able to continue this without much hassle. _

_Anyway, like it? Hate it? DESPISE IT? Have questions about confusing parts or things that I just seriously did not make clear? Review and tell me all about it!_

* * *

Laurel prided herself in being a very patient person when she wanted to be. She was good at getting what she wanted. Excelled at keeping her emotions in check and her prowess at manipulation would not leave anyone wanting for anything… sans the person she manipulated. It was to be expected that her initial patience with other politicians would become strained after prolonged exposure. She was used to dealing with nefarious little brats that came to her university to acquire an education and, hopefully, learn something from their experience. Most of them went on to become manipulative little buggers but were never anyone she couldn't figure out in a moments notice.

The Republic politicians were a different matter entirely. She never trained them. She never taught them to have the best interests of others at heart. She never taught them that things like lying and manipulation were to only be used when the lives of others were at stake. They never received the lecture from her about the difference between right and wrong, truth and lies, peace versus war.

So, it was incredibly hard for her to gauge the reasons behind Senator Palpatine's wish to become the Republic's ambassador to Illearia. Normally, it was a Jedi Knight on the verge of becoming a master who accompanied her back for six months and not one of the Republic's politicians. Palpatine assured her of his sincere interest in the races of Illearia and a wish to establish a direct correspondence between the Republic's lawmakers and Illearia's.

Laurel wished, she really did, that she could believe the man. It was not her ingrained disposition to immediately assume the worst of everyone as it was with her friend, Artemis. However, there was something dark about the man she couldn't wrap her finger around. Something was wrong. Something rubbed her the wrong way. Something made her happy to know that, after discovering the pending journey of Senator Palpatine and expressing a wish to check on their agents, Jedi Masters Yoda and Windu elected to personally accompany her.

When Mace informed her of those plans she almost kissed him in gratitude but refrained from doing so. He wouldn't appreciate it.

Now, though, she was stuck in audience with Senator Palpatine explaining elven custom, lore and the general history of Illearia. He was an attentive pupil, she had no trouble admitting that, but he was attentive in the sense that he seemed to take in the information and catalogue it for it to be later analyzed.

"Professor, I am a little confused about elven magic. Why is it so different from what our Jedi use?" he asked.

Laurel felt the alarms in her head go off again. This seemed to happen throughout any prolonged conversation with the man and she couldn't fathom the reason why. This question, though, was something that her people tended to want kept to themselves for various reasons. It would not do for any of the mortal races to find out what it was exactly that separated the Illearians from the rest of the inhabitants of their galaxy. Anyway, this was a question best answered by Ailya or Neldie and not herself.

"Its difficult to explain. You will have to wait for an audience with one of the other White Council members. They are better equipped to explain it," she said as pleasantly as possible.

"Ah, I understand. Forgive me I forgot that this was a general discussion and not an in depth one," apologized the man.

She nodded and continued, "We have the High Wizard Council which is made of three members. Each member is a half-elf of some sort and the eldest of their kind. Unlike the elves, half-elves age so our witches and wizards tend to be replaced every so often. Most wizards and witches are hermits and nomads. They interact with society only when they see fit to, as the White Council will. It is imperative that you understand how difficult our princess will be. She is a good sort, of course, but she has a no-nonsense stubbornness about her and will see through any political crap you attempt to dish out. No offense."

He smiled good naturedly, "None taken."

She carefully let out a breath. This was going to be a very long afternoon.

* * *

Princess Bellethiel was at her wits end. Day after day she was met with unwanted suitors even in her own personal time. She had little to no privacy. Her sparing sessions with Qui-Gon and her morning lessons with master and apprentice were being watched. By the time the three of them re-entered their common room, they were so worn out from the day's events that they simply retired for the night.

Four months since her name-day celebration and the only thing that gave her a semblance of peace was the little black wolf puppy her aunt gave her. The little pup was growing at a rate that left its owner in no doubt of the fact that she, for it was a she, would be a gigantic animal. Part of the peace that the little canine gave her was the time she was able to spend with Qui-Gon teaching her how to both hunt and attack.

Obi-Wan had been her first choice. Bainethiel had taken to making Qui-Gon's daily business her own and, in many cases, ended up crossing her personal time with Belle's in the most invasive fashion; invasive to Qui-Gon. The Jedi padawan, though, did not have a good way with animals. Sila, the wolf was called, hadn't taken very well to Obi-Wan and stoically tolerated his presence. Qui-Gon was a different matter with the animal.

Belle wasn't sure if Sila could tell whether or not her mistress held a certain regard for the man or not, but whatever the case was Qui-Gon was the favorite of her guardians. Such became evident when the female wolf allowed him to teach her various commands while said mistress was busy in court.

This all led to now where Bellethiel was about ready to suffocate from the constant barrage of people around her. It was so bad that she wanted a few hours away from Qui-Gon and Ob-Wan. After a hectic morning filled with meetings with various lords sons and a tense lunch between herself, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan (she wasn't mad at them) Belle whisked off into her rooms as fast as she possibly could followed closely by her two guardians. She didn't say a word to them as she greeted Sila upon entering the common room and made a beeline for her bedroom door.

As she shrugged out of the outer layer of her dress she sank into the covers of her bed, buried her face into her pillow, and let out the most frustrated groan she ever made. There were too many suitors! All they wanted was to attempt to woo her for the crown. All hopes for a match with her were political in nature and none of them actually considered getting to know her. She needed a break. She needed to ride her horse. Alone.

Which meant that she was going to have to sneak out since she knew without a doubt neither of her guardians would let her leave on her own.

* * *

The wolf was staring at him again with her imploring amber eyes. Qui-Gon glanced at the dark animal with a raised eyebrow and met the stare. The wolf's tail thumped against the red oak table and its head cocked sideways. He sighed glanced around to make sure that Obi-Wan wasn't looking, reached into a pocket of his elven tunic and brought forth a small piece of jerky. Sila, the wolf, blinked at him and tensed in excitement and he waited for just one moment. Then he flicked his wrist and the tiny piece of dried meat into the air. It soared to the wolf and began a fast descent to the floor but was hastily snatched out of the air by the powerful jaws of the ever-growing animal.

"Master, didn't the princess seem highly aggravated today?" asked Obi-Wan from the chair near the fire.

Qui-Gon nodded before replying, "I believe that the appropriate term is 'stressed' instead of 'aggravated'."

Obi-Wan seemed to be in agreement, "I don't think she's had one moment's peace for the past month and a half."

Qui-Gon let out a long drawn out sigh and sat back in the couch with a contemplative look drawn on his features. Bellethiel was stressed. Her eyes weren't as bright as they normally were and the strain from constantly having to battle suitors at every waking moment was getting to her. What annoyed him was the fact that the people bothering her the most were from the Egire and Undbegyr families. They sought her out and spent much of her valuable time attempting to convince her that one of them were right candidates for her marriage partner.

The thought of either ellon laying a hand on her did not sit well with his conscience. The very idea unsettled him and caused certain unpleasant emotions to well inside of him- a good portion of those emotions were an overwhelming sense of possession and protectiveness. Inwardly, the Jedi Master frowned. These thoughts and emotions worried him. They indicated something much deeper than an attraction to his charge. They were dangerous.

His blue eyes caught movement outside of the window and his attention drew to the view. A glimpse of bronze hair and pale skin with indications of brown leather casual clothes told him the identity of the figure.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was only natural, of course, she would decide to sneak out at that moment!

The last time she eluded their presence was before her name-day celebration in the second week of his and Obi-Wan's guardianship of her. Obi-Wan had been furious with her when they finally found her, but Qui-Gon had kept his disapproval to himself. He thought that she understood the underlying message, but apparently not. Then again, he mused, she probably needed the space. In such a case…

He stood up after putting his book carefully to the side while silently mourning the loss of his data pad. Obi-Wan glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow from the book of ancient runes and writing systems he had open in his lap.

"Our princess has decided to escape. I'm going to fetch her," explained Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan looked slightly taken aback though not entirely surprised, "I was… wondering if she would make another bid for freedom sometime or later."

The remark went over his master's head as Qui-Gon turned and slipped out of the common room. In the hall, he decided that not being seen would be the best policy. Bellethiel didn't need her personal time to be invaded and, to be honest, part of him understood her actions. Whatever the case was, he knew where to find her.

He grimly slipped invisibly through the palace with a concentrated frown on his bearded face. There was, he acknowledged, a slight feeling of aggravation coursing through him at that moment. The princess hadn't needed to sneak away. Just them knowing where she was and how long she would have been gone would have worked just fine. Qui-Gon, of course, would have kept an eye on her from a very far distance, but she wouldn't know he was there. She could have her rare time to herself; her semblance of freedom she so desperately craved.

But, he figured, if she didn't go for at least an entire two hours without anyone watching her or around her then she would not be the person he… highly regarded. There. He stopped himself before the thought could travel onto a path of no return. There were some things better left un-thought. It would make letting everything go less painful.

He found her where he expected her to be- in the sparse stables attaching the light-weight reigns on the horse she received as a name-day gift. He took a moment to watch her from the shadows of the stable door. Her hair was completely free of bondage. Her clothes were as loose as she was allowed- a brown leather corset (he found they were called) that bound a simple grey shirt to her chest and a brown leather belt that hung from her hips to better keep the blue-grey pants from slipping down her narrow legs. Her feet were adorned with simplistic riding boots and her hands were completely bare.

It was those hands that were gently stroking the head of the white horse she was about to mount. Her voice was speaking gently to the creature in her own tongue- such a melodic voice to match the smooth tongue of her people. Everything about this scene made his chest twinge with a dull, throbbing, ache that occurred every time he was privy to her soft and gentle side.

His feelings, however, did not blind him from other things about her he noticed. Her shoulders looked tense. Her movements were not as fluid or gentle as he was certain she liked. Her voice sounded strained as if she was barely containing it.

_She looks ready to break,_ he thought with a surge of compassion.

The soft murmur of her voice ceased and her heard a sigh escape her lips.

"I can hear you breathing, Qui-Gon," she said loud enough for him to hear.

Not surprised by the fact she knew he was there, Qui-Gon approached her from behind. The two of them seemed to know when the other was near. It was why Qui-Gon found himself guarding her much of the time. There was an awareness the other had about each other that couldn't be explained. She always knew it was him even when she couldn't see him.

"You will not stop me, Qui-Gon," she ordered in a voice that was almost but not quite haughty.

His steeled demeanor softened slightly. He hadn't planned to.

"How long will you be gone and where?" he asked.

She turned to look at him with surprise written on her face.

"What?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. She hadn't been expecting his question.

"I ask because I would like to know what I should tell Obi-Wan. He will meet you here after your ride," he explained.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, seemed to catch herself and then closed it while fixing him with a dumbfounded look. The way her long, unruly, bronze hair framed her pale face seemed to add to her look. It was very endearing.

Qui-Gon did not expect her to hug him, though, but hug him she did. Bellethiel hadn't given an ounce of warning. She simply sprang into motion and wrapped her arms around his torso while burying her head into his chest. After a moments uncertain hesitation he returned the embrace as gently as he could. He wanted to hold her to him, bury his face into her bronze hair and become lost in her scent- a gentle and calming fragrance that reminded him of a few of the scented herbs she kept in the common room. Self-control was not easy for him at this point in time, but he managed to refrain from doing all of those very wrong things he wanted to do.

She drew back from him only a moment later and left him feeling stunned though he willed himself to remain as impassive as possible. The smile she sent him nearly dissolved that iron will of his.

"Thank you, mellon vell," she said while calling him friend in her own language.

He still had yet to divine the significance of that particular phrase. He inclined his head slightly and moved to one side to allow her room to mount her horse.

"I intend to ride for two hours in the woods just around the capital. I will not go far, I promise," she told him.

Qui-Gon nodded, "Be safe."

She inclined her head to him before spurring her horse into a steady trot out of the stable. The steed broke into a swift gallop when it entered the sunlight. He stared after her with his features marred into a concerned frown. He was in trouble.

* * *

The wind whipped through Bellethiel's hair as she rode Meldamiriel (Melda for short) into the forest surrounding the capital. The trees were wide enough that she was able to maneuver around them at full gallop. Her heart soared with each thud of Melda's hoof to the soft, green, earth. Every burst of wind that hit her face was the breath of life. The exhilarating experience slowly unlocked the caged bird that was her and freed her bound spirit into the air. There was no duty. There were no suitors. She was not the princess of the elven race. She was simply Belle and there was nothing else but Melda and Eru.

Belle smiled and allowed herself to channel the joy she was feeling into her ride. Weightless, timeless, freedom and love- all clasped in her hands that guided her swift steed through the valley and up into the beginnings of the foothills that escalated into the mountains of one of the dwarf realms. She slowed to an easy trot after thirty minutes and guided Melda to travel parallel to the elven capital.

As her eyes fell to her home a new love for it surged within her. The walls, the towers, the castle, the houses, courthouse, University, the Great Library of Illearia all melded into various stones, metals and woodlands to create a jewel of a city filled with the greens of the forest and the cultivated gardens of each inhabitant. Belle pulled Melda to a momentary halt so she could take in the beauty of her home before her. A soft smile played on her lips as the day's waning summer wind played softly with her now tangled hair and loose shirt.

She closed her eyes and sensed the world around her. All of her elven senses, sans her eyesight, were alert. She listened to the breeze rustling the trees and the chirping of each unique type of bird. The sounds of wildlife beyond her vantage point stirred around her and Melda, her beautiful steed, snorted and whinnied softly to convey her impatience. She wanted to continue the ride.

The land was peaceful and serene, letting its princess know safety without becoming smothered. A presence not of the land but of something more enveloped her and she remembered. With all grief and heartache gone she opened her eyes and looked to the sky above. Belle laughed.

"I remember the joy you give me. I will not forget again," she whispered as if speaking to someone unseen but still present.

Alone with her horse, Bellethiel became reacquainted with Eru and began to speak all of her hopes and dreams, cares and woes, and of friendship and love. But there was one thing she voiced specifically that weighed the most on her heart.

"Eru I have enemies who seek to harm me in the most personal way. Physical torture and death would be a blessing compared to what they have planned for me. I fear, Eru, that I will not marry where I love," she paused here as she considered her heart.

It was an old tradition among the elves for the unmarried of their race to find their love-match. That tradition was remembered among the peoples of Eduna and Yleara, but the Rhune elves, many of them with titles at least, seemed to have forgone that sweet tradition for a very disgusting one long since done away with by much of the known races. She couldn't speak for the humans, but Bellethiel knew for a fact that the dwarves, centaurs, mermaids and fair folk gave up such a tradition in favor of love. Why were the Rhune elves so adamant about encouraging among their nobles?

Her eyes softened as a certain thought came in to her mind.

"What is love?" she asked to the silent winds that swirled to comfort her.

The sad fact of her life was that she didn't understand the basics of romantic love. Well, she understood the idea behind romance and how to effectively go about it, Bainethiel's favorite subject was her pursuits of different ellon that caught her eye. She knew how to flirt, how to be endearing, how to flatter and even the mechanics of certain physical contact though she never had first hand experience with it. That wasn't the tip of her ignorance. What sort of feelings were associated with love? How would one know the difference between partial regard and deep, committed, selfless, unconditional love for someone not of their own blood?

She had so many questions concerning the subject and she didn't know who to ask. Her mother, certainly, never answered them or took the time to explain anything to her. She was in the dark.

Bellethiel sighed and looked to the horizon. This was part of the reason why she was currently seeking council from the one person she knew would never lie to her. Eru would answer her. He always did.

"Do I love someone now?" there was a ring of pleading in her voice.

The answer should have been a firm "no". She was too young; too inexperienced in the world and naïve in life to fall in love with any male at that moment. She did not plan on getting married within, at least, the next twenty years. There were things she needed to do and learn before she could take up any marriage contract let alone fall in love.

But what of attraction?

She thought of Qui-Gon and blushed. She had been so free with him- jumping onto him like that. It had been an intimate move rarely allowed among those of her race and she doubted that a Jedi, who spurned things like attachments and attraction and love, appreciated it.

She had embraced him. He was strong and comforting and when he returned the gesture her heart had nearly burst from her chest.

Qui-Gon understood her need. In fact, had she gone to him instead of feeling the need to sneak out of her room, he would have let her go. He let her go and she appreciated him all the more for it. He was always there, in the background, when around others but when they were alone he was open and upfront. He would tease her, muse with her, and sometimes even fight with her. He was gentle and always treated her with a warm familiarity that made her adore him all the more.

Surely she didn't love him after a mere five months acquaintance? It was a preposterous idea to behold! But she was very much attracted to him; that much she could tell. She certainly was not in love with him, right? It was a silly notion. Besides that fact, he was human! A match between a human and an elf was- well- they did happen, but they rarely worked.

She knew that her Professor married humans in the past, but never made the move to bind them to her and the immortality of their race. Maf was living proof of such a union. Professor Moruni had explained to her charge one day, when she had asked, why that was so. To give immortality to a human, to expect them to become fully bound to you in flesh, blood, spirit and life was wrong. Humans were finite creatures. They lived for death. Their fate was to die. It was the will of Eru for such to be so. For an elf male or female to violate such a law of nature would be torture to the human. Human and elven relationships rarely ended well. Professor Laurel Moruni made the personal decision to linger on beyond her mortal husbands' deaths (there were eight that Bellethiel knew of) and live. She never found the person who would be her life-mate anyway and she was never attracted to anyone from her own race.

Belle frowned at this. Was she going to follow in her mentor's footsteps? Would Qui-Gon be the first of many? She couldn't imagine so at that moment. She would have to wait until she fully comprehended her regard for the man before coming to a decision.

As Bellethiel spurred Melda into a canter she continued to think on the idea of marriage and marrying someone from her own race. Could that happen? Could she bring herself to swallow every feeling she had for Qui-Gon and turn her eyes to the more visually appealing males of her own race?

Her heart nearly stopped when the answer came to her and she fully realized it. Her surprise was so great that she almost fell off her horse.

_I cannot! _

She could rate every smooth or worn face from her race against that of her Jedi Master and easily come to the conclusion that he, instead of they, was visually the superior.

_But he is not! He was never particularly handsome and he never will be, _she thought.

But he was in her eyes.

"I must cease these thoughts before I go to a place I cannot return from," she muttered while feeling as if she were already there.

With that final thought on the subject of her feelings for Qui-Gon she immediately turned to her current crisis concerning the elf suitors attempting to gain her affections and consequently failing at each try. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. The ellon males of the five most notable noble families in the Rhune elves' eyes were practically battling for her hand in marriage. It was unflattering, undignified, and for the love of Eru if she didn't envy the times in elven history when the marriage of a prince or princess in the royal line never mattered. There had always been siblings, always cousins, always a brother or a nephew or niece or sister or… Belle let out a frustrated sigh. If only she could travel back in time and somehow stop the exodus of humans from Illearia. When humans lived on the planet everything had been sectioned off. The elves weren't as concerned with titles and constantly laughed at their human neighbors who were. Then humans began to search for their colonies that had set out before the burning of their first world. The humans slowly dwindled until all were forgotten and the Republic came into being.

And when that happened Illearia unified for the most part.

She began to make guide Melda back towards the capital. The houses she needed to worry the most about were the Undbegyr and the Egire. They were the ones hell bent on restricting her freedom and claiming the elven throne for power. The other three houses were not as… worried about controlling her as they were about gaining the title. She needed to do something to control them; something that would keep them from hounding her every waking moment.

Suddenly she smiled brightly. She had the perfect idea!

* * *

Obi-Wan waited for the princess to arrive back in the stables as the second hour since her departure drew to a close. He constantly questioned his master's actions regarding their charge ever since the Name-Day celebration for Belle, but now he was certain of something that he only suspected. Qui-Gon was in the process of forming a very deep attachment with the princess and she was reciprocating his master's feelings. Whether or not she felt it as strongly as his master did, Obi-Wan didn't know, but he knew his master well enough to know that Qui-Gon's heart was already lost.

And Obi-Wan did not know how he felt about that.

He remembered Master Tahl a few years prior to this fated mission in Illearia. He had turned fifteen during that trying time in his master's life. He remembered the pain Tahl's death had caused his master. He remembered how close to the darkside Qui-Gon was before returning to the light. He remembered the consequences of love and he wasn't certain if he wanted his master to experience the pain again.

It would have to come. The mid-autumn month would mark the halfway point until their departure from Illearia. Then they would have to leave and Qui-Gon would be heartbroken again. Obi-Wan was perceptive enough to know that this attachment was very deep. In fact, he was certain that it equaled to the love his master had for the late Master Tahl. If such was the case then… then his master was in trouble.

Obi-Wan heard the telltale signs of horse hooves thundering across the grounds. He straightened from his reverie and watched as the white horse plodded into the stable with her rider steering it into its stall. She sent him a friendly smile and Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice the very peaceful and almost enthusiastic look about her.

_Uh oh, speaking of trouble, _he thought with alarm.

A devious twinkle sparkled in her eyes as she worked the reigns off of her mare. The way she carried herself told him that Belle's ride had not only been relaxing, but also enlightening. He hoped.

"Well Kenobi, I have been able to finally clear my head and do some proper thinking," she said in the most cheerful of ways.

Obi-Wan's heart sank. He knew that tone of voice. Bant used it whenever she had an idea for a new prank.

"We're not pranking anyone, Obi-Wan," she assured him as if reading his mind.

"But?" he coaxed.

She removed the reigns and turned to fully look at him with the biggest grin plastered on her pleasantly pretty face. He almost groaned.

"No, we will not prank anyone. We are going to make the five noble families acquire some manners even if it kills them!" she said brightly.

He gaped at her torn between ending the conversation there and finding out what it was she meant by that exactly. She laughed a deep-throated sinister laugh that sent chills up his spine. When did she get this scary?

"Oh yes," she said, "we are going to regulate their access to the castle and my personal time."

He nodded with sudden understanding and felt himself relax. So, that was what this was about! Well, he had to admit that the initial reaction to such a declaration would be very… entertaining.

"How?" he asked.

"By convincing my mother to give written permission for both you and Qui-Gon to forcibly leave me alone if the need arises," she explained.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. Both of them knew that the Queen would not willingly defy the five lords.

"I'm going to draw the document myself and then have her sign it. She never reads anything I ask her to sign, so I figured that this course of action would be easier. Besides, should the lords take things up with her, mother can look at the written permission herself and remember signing it. Her signatures are always different, you see?" she explained.

Obi-Wan had to admit that the plan was devious, brilliant, and beneficial. He also decided that, after this fact, he and his master needed to have a small talk with the Queen concerning her negligence in reading documents before signing them.

They left the stable fine-tuning the plan as well as discussing what they were going to put in the document. They entered the palace and were interrupted by a servant asking the princess about what she wished for Sila, the monstrosity of a wolf, to be fed that night. Belle gave instructions while Obi-Wan silently waited for her to finish before the two set off down the corridors again.

They were lightly conversing about the possible reactions of the five lords once they learned of their new boundaries around the princess when they came across a peculiar and alarming sight. In fact, if Obi-Wan articulated his feelings, he would say that he was absolutely dumbfounded.

His master was against the wall, as stiff as a board, being kissed by that annoying blond elleth named Bainethiel.

What the-?

He glanced at Bellethiel and observed the openly shocked and hurt look on her face. He noted how her emotions suddenly left her face to be replaced by haughty irritation and she placed both hands on her small, narrow hips. Obi-Wan considered running for a moment, but was too absorbed in the unfolding drama to give in to that basic instinct.

"Excuse me!" she snapped.

Baine slowly tore herself away from his master with a sickening sweet smile plastered in her beautiful face. His master looked more relieved than disappointed. In fact, there was no disappointment to be had in his countenance. He still looked tense.

"Forgive us, my lady, but Master Jinn and I were slightly busy," she said in a very condescending tone.

Obi-Wan glanced at his elf-friend and noted her near stern disapproving stare. He nearly blanched at the sight. She looked like a mother about to scold a wayward teenage daughter.

"I noticed! Baine, these are my halls and the rules of my family still stand. You cannot display affection in public! It is disrespectful to those that may see and is very rude. I suggest that the next time you and Master Jinn wish to become more… physically acquainted with one another you procure for yourselves a room. Now, if you do not mind, I have some affairs I must see to promptly!" with the most imperious look on her face, the princess stalked away from the scene.

Obi-Wan stood where he was and blinked in stunned silence for a moment. Bainethiel looked smug and turned her attention back to his master. Qui-Gon was staring at her impassively, but the fury boiled underneath his cool expression. In fact. His master looked cold.

"Obi-Wan, we will go. My lady, do not approach me again," there was steel in his voice.

The young Jedi Padawan followed his master away from the scene attempting to get the image of his master being somewhat intimate with the elleth out of his head. It was definitely going to be an experience he would file under the 'traumatizing' section of his brain.

* * *

Two hours prior to this fiasco, Qui-Gon had been attempting to meditate in one of the many gardens that were planted in the castle. He needed to think. He needed to understand. He needed to figure out a way to push his dangerously growing feelings for the elf princes out of his system before irreparable damage could be caused.

After repeatedly being thwarted by his unquiet mind, Qui-Gon walked the halls of the castle and its grounds with a contemplative frown on his face. Ailya, the seer, had been right. The bond he had with the princess was important. His feelings for her allowed him to be perceptive to her moods. He anticipated her needs and slowly worked his way into becoming a very close confidant to her in most matters. He knew the gory particulars of the deaths of her two closest friends who were her previous guardians, he heard every complaint about her mother as well as every fear regarding their dissolving relationship, he knew her fears, her wants and desires, her hopes for the kingdom and her methods for ruling. Much of her had been opened up to him and he found that the more she revealed herself to him the more his fondness and attraction grew in to something more.

Qui-Gon was not prepared to admit what it was. In fact, he was totally prepared to keep all of it to himself and allow it to fade after he and Obi-Wan left the planet. The last time her went down this road he nearly fell to the darkside.

Of course, he was very well aware of the fact that Mace Windu and his padawan would not be the only ones he would have to answer to if he actually fell to the dark side of the Force in this case. He could name several elves who would take such a fall very personally and, most likely, make certain that he was stopped in his tracks. The huntress, Artemis, would probably take pleasure in the act. There was also Bellethiel he had to consider. Even if something happened to her in the fashion of Tahl's demise or, even, injury he wouldn't put it passed her to come back from wherever elves go when they died and beat him into a blithering little pulp; assuming she felt the same way.

He had smiled at that thought.

Qui-Gon hadn't gone beyond that thought, though, when Bainethiel appeared before him with her innocently round eyes proclaiming that she hadn't anticipated running into him. He doubted the truth of such a claim. Normally when she was around attempting to distract him, her brother or one of the Undbegyr ellon were bothering his padawan and the princess.

This was not the first time beautiful females attempted to beguile him with their attentions. His attraction to Bellethiel only served to strengthen his resolve against giving in to temptation. There wasn't much in any case. Qui-Gon never committed half-heartedly to any attachment he made with another person. In any case, the elleth grated on his nerves. Her ceaseless chatter wasn't the problem. It was her need to talk about the most feminine things she could possibly think of.

He nearly rolled his eyes several times through their latest conversation. Did she notice that he was, very much so, a male?

Then the elleth would start to get flirty and he would spend the rest of their conversation attempting to fend off her advances. This time, though, she managed to corner him in a deserted corridor and… kiss him.

It had been an arousing and infuriating experience. Arousing because, despite his ultimate attraction to the princess, Bainethiel knew what she was doing and he, well, didn't. It was infuriating mostly because of how unwelcome the kiss was.

Unsure of how to remove her, Qui-Gon tensed and froze; completely shutting down and waiting for her to get off of him. If she didn't after a few seconds, he would have attempted to get away from her without hurting her. He wasn't going to make promises, though.

That was when Bellethiel and Obi-Wan happened upon them.

He had to admit that the look on her face was awe-inspiring as well as the way she handled the situation. He hadn't been to thrilled about the fact that she insinuated that he was partially responsible for the kiss. She was very cold and abrupt. He mirrored her feelings in regard of Bainethiel. He felt like the elleth had violated him.

The trek back to their chambers was silent. His padawan looked beyond traumatized and Bellethiel had swept away from the scene as quickly as she possibly could. Why she seemed to be so annoyed about the situation he didn't know. He was, though, going to speak with her so she would know that nothing had been initiated or encouraged on his end.

_Why?_ Came a treacherous thought in his head.

It was a valid question. Why did he feel the need to justify himself with her? He kept his face neutral as he immediately stamped that question and its answer into the back recesses of his mind. It was a dangerous one to answer.

He was still going to explain himself. It was best that the princess and his padawan did not think he was acting improperly. The impropriety of the situation had been the initial reason for her very… royal reaction. The corners of his mouth quirked slightly at the thought. She would make a fine, strong, queen.

Qui-Gon glanced at his padawan for a moment before asking, "Are you alright, Obi-Wan?"

Startled out of what Qui-Gon figured was a disturbed reverie Obi-Wan glanced over at him with a shrug.

"I had not been aware that you liked Bainethiel at all master," his padawan remarked.

Qui-Gon smiled wryly, "I do not. She cornered me shortly before you and the princess rounded the corner. I believe that she must have heard you coming and acted."

Obi-Wan's brows furrowed with confusion, "Why?"

Qui-Gon inwardly sighed at that question. It was best to get everything over with. Obi-Wan was his padawan and deserved to know the state of his master's mind.

"I suspect it was to gauge the reaction of the princess and myself. Her attempts at seducing me are fruitless so she tried a different approach for, undoubtedly, various reasons," he explained.

Obi-Wan must have sensed that the remark left everything wide open because he replied, "Reasons that were an attempt to determine whether or not the two of you are attracted to each other."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment before nodding. He was not surprised that his apprentice suspected something of the sort and he was rather thrilled that Obi-Wan had been spot on with his assessment. It saved explanation.

"Yes."

There was an awkward silence between the two as they rounded the final corner and entered their corridor.

"And," began Obi-Wan, "am I right to assume that her reasons for seeking to study these reactions are well founded?"

Qui-Gon stopped his approach so as to stay as far away from their rooms as possible in case the princess might overhear.

"Yes, but as far as I know, it is one-sided," he said.

Obi-Wan seemed to consider something; wrestling with some sort of decision. He then nodded.

"And you are the one with these feelings?" he ventured.

"Yes."

The silence remained for a few seconds before Obi-Wan bowed, "I will keep this a secret, master."

Qui-Gon smiled fondly at his young apprentice. It was all he could ever ask of him.

They entered the common room silently and Qui-Gon immediately noted Belle's tense figure sitting at her desk hastily scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. A stack of blank parchment paper lay to her immediate right on her desk. This caused the older Jedi to blink in confusion. What was she doing?

He glanced an Obi-Wan with a raised eyebrow, but the Jedi Padawan raised his hands in the air, shook his head, and took his leave into his chamber. Obi-Wan, it seemed, wanted to give them privacy. Qui-Gon did not know how he felt about that.

He carefully approached her from behind taking great care to make sure she heard his footsteps. Startling her at this time was not wise. She only wrote furiously like this if she was angry. It would only be a matter of time before-.

SNAP.

"Dammit!" she cursed as the tip of her quill broke off.

Qui-Gon already reached for the stash of quills she kept in a basket on the shelf level with his shoulder. She really needed to place them within reach on her desk. He held the writing instrument out in front of her.

"What are you working on?" he asked genuinely curious.

She glared at the quill for a second before taking it and mumbling a tentative "thank you" and returning to her work. He couldn't read what she was writing. It was in her original language. He patiently waited for a few minutes as she determinedly ignored him.

SNAP!

She didn't curse this time. Instead she stared at the thing with a hopeless look on her face and bit down on her bottom lip. He reached up and withdrew another quill from the stack and handed it to her. She stared blankly at it for a moment before turning to look at him. She narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

He thought for a moment. It was a good question and one that deserved an honest answer. He gave her one of them.

"I am avoiding your elven lady who, it seems, is not so much of a lady as she would like the world to believe," he replied.

She looked confused.

"You-. She-. What was the incident in the hallway about, then?" she asked.

He thought for a moment before replying, "Self-control."

She gazed up at him for a moment before turning back around and taking the quill from his hands. She began to write again, this time with a new piece of parchment and at a much slower pace. He moved to the edge of the desk and knelt right beside her, like he normally did when she was working on something mindless.

"What are you working on?" he repeated.

A cunning smile suddenly made its way onto her lips. He raised an eyebrow.

"New rules to be signed by the Queen for my suitors," she replied proudly.

He chuckled. Apparently the ride had cleared her head enough for her to come up with a plan about them.

"I would include a bit about elleth who wish to either speak to you, myself or my padawan without appointment. I am not the only one who has dealt with seduction attempts these past few months," he said dryly.

She laughed at that and continued to write with a soft smile on her face. It nearly melted Qui-Gon's passive humor.

"How do you intend to get the Queen to sign this?" he asked.

Belle smirked, "She never reads any of the documents I give her. Why I do not know, but it will come in useful in this case. This way she is not outright defying the five lords and the blame will be placed solely on me."

Qui-Gon was troubled by that comment. He knew little about blood families, but he knew that if the situation was reversed and if he was Obi-Wan's father, he would do everything in his power to ensure that those wishing to hurt him stayed as far away as possible. Belle shouldn't be the one having to save her mother from the nobles. It should be the Queen.

She turned to look at him as if about to say something and stopped. Her brows furrowed and she leaned towards him slightly.

"What is the matter?" she asked in concern.

He smiled slightly feeling nostalgic. Unbidden, but seemingly compelled by some unforeseen force, he reached up his hand and cupped her cheek. Confusion and shock registered in her beautiful teal eyes and her lips parted slightly as if suddenly struck dumb.

"Do not worry. Write what you need to and get Obi-Wan when you are finished. I will be in my room meditating if you need me," he told her.

He pulled away and left as quickly as he could. Resisting temptation was becoming nearly impossible. These feelings, this fascination, with the princess needed to end and he needed to remind himself that said feelings led one down a path dangerously close to the dark instead of the light.

* * *

Queen Miriel was trying very hard to not burst out laughing at the total and complete look of poorly checked outrage shown on the demeanors of two of her five most prominent Rhunic lords. The other three were there as well, but their countenance concerning the matter was not angry, but merely curious. Miriel glanced down at the crumpled document Lanyar ven Egire thrust into her hands and read the contents. The copied signature and laminated seal of her house reflected from the fine printing paper that her people used to widely distribute reminders and notices for those elves who rejected the use (and need) for technology. Vaguely, she remembered her daughter sidling up to her desk a week prior to this moment with the parchment paper in hand and her neat rune calligraphy etched on it. She hadn't read the contents. She was never in much habit to read anything her daughter brought to her to be signed. Bellethiel followed laws and worked within them to get what she wanted done finished to her personal satisfaction. Professor Laurel Moruni had taught her well over the years.

Documents like these that directly defied the wishes of the five lords were reasons why Miriel never bothered to read her daughter's legal papers before signing them. While the Queen was bound by oath to never directly defy the lords ever again, her daughter had taken no such vow. Laurel had seen to that twenty years ago by spiriting the princess away to one of the dwarf realms to observe the dwarves and dragons in their natural habitats.

The blond queen looked up at the angry green eyes of Lanyar as he stared down at her severely. She smiled pleasantly.

"I do remember signing a document she gave to me a week ago, but I had not read the contents. She normally wants charity works and community projects so I never bother," she explained.

Vanyo's blue eyes suddenly gleamed at those words, "Does this mean that the document is not authentic?"

Queen Miriel nearly lost her composure and fell into fits of hysteric laughter at the remark.

"I can promise you that this is authentic. In any case, the order has been signed and I will not make it my business to defy my daughter's legal wishes for personal space. If you feel that it is your explicit right to invade her personal space, take it to the White Council. I will remain neutral in this matter," she told them emotionlessly.

She turned to leave with a smirk lightly dusting her striking features. Bellethiel was definitely her father's daughter.

"Remind your daughter of her duties, my lady. She must produce an heir," called the tenor voice of Lanyar from behind, "If she does not, you know that we will be forced to take steps!"

Miriel, didn't freeze. She continued to walk into the entrance hall of the castle. The amusement of the situation, however, faded from her eyes. This was getting dangerous.

* * *

The week had been total and complete bliss. Without the constant influx of unwanted suitors flocking her every waking moment, Bellethiel was able to clear her mind and focus on the things she knew she needed to accomplish. Training Sila was one of those things and, with the help of Qui-Gon, her beautiful wolf was growing into a strong hunter. It wouldn't be long before Belle would be able to take her out into the deeper forests to finish the last legs of her training- hunting dark creatures.

She grinned. Speaking of which her aunt and uncle wanted to take her on a patrol in the outer sector of the deep forests and for her to go she had to convince either Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan to let her. Her mother, of course, wouldn't care and had been very lax about what she was allowed to do ever since the lords and their families were forced to stay away from her.

Belle tapped the edge of her bed while thinking about how she could go on a hunters' patrol she hadn't been on in a year and a half. Qui-Gon let her go on her now daily rides alone, but she had to tell either him or Obi-Wan where exactly she planned on going and how long she intended to be gone. This wasn't the same. She wouldn't be alone even if she didn't take either of her guardians with her. She would. She had to. Still, being able to disappear into the trees, to look for the creatures of the night and make sure that they remained in the forests, was something she sorely missed.

She doubted Qui-Gon would let her go and even if he did and went with her, the man would be too much of a distraction. Unresolved attraction and regard tended to lead to that. Obi-Wan, though, he would go with her. In fact, he would see the excursion as a chance to get out of the capital for at least a few days. It would also be a learning experience for him and she had no problem with teaching him. In any case, it would also be the first time she would do anything with someone she considered a friend. It would be liberating.

With the decision in her mind, she threw on her dressing gown and made her way out into the common room. To her luck, Obi-Wan was there and alone meditating. Knowing that both master and apprentice did not like being disturbed while meditating, Bellethiel absentmindedly withdrew a book from one of her bookshelves and took a seat in front of the fire. Waiting for him to wake was the best policy.

She glanced down at her book and nearly raised an eyebrow. She had, in her hands, a book on the latest histories of the royal family. Belle smiled sadly. She never read it. She knew that she wouldn't be able to stomach the last two thousand years recorded in there. Knowing that she wouldn't get too far into the thick pages, Bellethiel opened the volume to the first page and began to read.

Thirty pages later Obi-Wan returned to the land of the living with a slight shift in his leg. Bellethiel looked up to meet his storm eyes with a smile.

"I can never guess if you actually sleep during your meditation or if you are actually awake," she commented.

He chuckled, "I am awake, but I can't feel you through the Force, so I didn't notice you until now."

"Ah."

"Did you need something?" he asked.

Belle nodded and explained her plans to him promptly. Beating around the bush never worked with him. Obi-Wan was intelligent enough to guess what she wanted.

When she was finished with the explanation of her pending excursion Obi-Wan looked thoughtful.

"I see no problem with it if Lorn and Artemis come with us, but I don't understand why you didn't ask Qui-Gon," he told her.

Bellethiel sighed. The boy was Qui-Gon's apprentice. It was best that he knew a semblance of the truth.

"Qui-Gon will be a distraction at this present time," she said carefully.

Obi-Wan's brows furrowed in confusion for a second before understanding seemed to dawn.

"Ah," he said.

She nodded, "In any case, I figured that this will give you some experience in patrolling, hiding and being altogether sneaky."

Obi-Wan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Bellethiel watched him mutely.

"I take it that you'll go anyway with or without me?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded. Obi-Wan held up his hands in defeat.

"Alight, but I will let Qui-Gon know. I'm not going behind his back about this and you shouldn't either no matter how protective he tends to be," he said pointedly.

Belle rolled her eyes and stood up with a wide grin plastered on her face.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," she said and returned to her room with the book in hand.

Back inside the confines of her room she allowed the squeal of glee to release from her throat. It was soft, since she didn't want to wake anyone, but her joy at being allowed out of the capital was almost unparalleled. This would almost be better than riding Melda.

* * *

Qui-Gon frowned at his padawan as the boy relayed to him what Bellethiel wanted to do with her aunt and uncle and the nature of it. Every alarm in his mind and body went off and he made an attempt to relax. This idea was dangerous and though he had no doubt that Lorn, Artemis and Obi-Wan would protect her to the best of their abilities the nature of this outing left a lot of maneuver room for anyone after her. This was reckless. This was dangerous. This would not include him.

He had faith in his padawan's abilities, but Bellethiel was a risk taker and sometimes reckless to the point of irrationality. She needed someone to go with her who could easily anticipate her thoughts and actions and, if the need arose, talk her out of it.

He was torn between letting Obi-Wan go with her and forcing his padawan to stay behind and accompany the princess himself. The problem was that it seemed her highness had thought of everything to make him saying "no" practically impossible.

Qui-Gon sighed. His initial problem with the plan was his unease at letting her entirely out of his sight for three days. He didn't like leaving her alone for two hours when she went on her rides. Three days was too long.

"Alright, I see that I don't have much of a say in this," he told his padawan wearily.

Obi-Wan sent him a sympathetic look and replied, "Sorry master. I couldn't talk her out of it."

Qui-Gon nodded and glanced over where their charge was practicing with the wizard Maf lightcraft. They were working on the fire element.

"Master?" asked Obi-Wan.

He glanced at his padawan with a weary look. The inner battle was taxing him greatly. His attempt to quell the emotions of attachment and deep affection for the elf princess was failing. Maybe adding more distance between himself and Bellethiel was the right thing to do? The Force was not compelling this attraction, he knew. As far as the Force was concerned, Bellethiel didn't even exist. But he knew she existed. His very being felt her presence in the world even when she was not near him. In the dead of night while he slept his mind conjured images of her. She was a presence in his heart that would not leave him and he needed to be rid of her.

It was for the best. The distance was necessary.

"You will take the necessary precautions while on the patrol?" he finally asked Obi-Wan.

His apprentice nodded, "Of course, master. I will protect her."

Qui-Gon smiled, "I know you will, Obi-Wan. Its whether or not she'll let you that worries me."

They stood in silence for a few minutes. In the distance master and apprentice could hear Mafortion explaining the background of fire lightcraft to the princess who interjected with questions every few lines. Qui-Gon felt the unbidden smile grace his bearded face in relation to the scene before him. Her inquisitive nature, so innocent and guileless, was part of what contributed to his affection for her.

"Master?" ventured Obi-Wan.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

His padawan hesitated for a moment before he finally asked, "Do you love her?"

Pain washed through him the moment the soft question from his apprentice died in the breeze. How could he answer?

"I don't know," he muttered in reply.

* * *

Artemis was in her element. Belle could tell. The dark haired elleth was not originally ecstatic about Obi-Wan, a Jedi whelp, accompanying them on their patrol, but the more the padawan asked questions about certain maneuvers the more her aunt warmed to him. It was becoming clear to the huntress that the boy knew a thing or two (or ten) about covert operations, tracking, and hunting down criminals. The more things Artemis had to explain or correct or even demonstrate, the more enthused her aunt became about Obi-Wan coming with them.

Belle was pleased. It meant that this wouldn't merely be a family outing. She would have someone nearer to her age maturity-wise and be able to converse with them easily. Plus, Obi-Wan was a quiet version of herself; curious and always ready to learn something new while retaining a certain amount of stubbornness in his manner. Even if the Jedi weren't so keen on their padawans having a brain and thinking for themselves, the elves (at least those in her family) appreciated it.

Her uncle nudged her and leaned close to whisper, "The master is listening closely to what Artemis is saying."

Belle nodded before replying, "He came to make sure he knows enough to come and find us if anything goes awry."

Lorn chuckled, "He is going the extra mile for this situation. Surely Obi-Wan can handle himself?"

"I think precautions are more for Obi-Wan than for myself," she whispered with a soft smile playing on her features.

Qui-Gon was watching from a distance listening to the plans Artemis was laying out in terms of the patrol. Her aunt and Obi-Wan were speaking loud enough for him to hear, so he had not felt the need to venture closer to the group. Bellethiel frowned at this. Qui-Gon was acting odd around her, again. One minute he would avoid her like the plague and practically hold her at arms length and then the next he would… he would be different. She couldn't explain it. His actions were gentle, as if merely touching her would make her entire being shatter into a million pieces. His eyes would always meet hers and hold her gaze with his hypnotic blue depths. Then he would touch her in a way that was not invasive, but sweet- like he was reassuring himself of her presence.

In all honesty his bipolar actions towards her were beginning to drive her insane. She was in no doubt about how she felt about him now. The impromptu kiss that Bainethiel forced upon him a week earlier convinced her that she liked him far more than she honestly wanted to admit. That burning in the pit of her stomach when she saw the taller elleth's lips practically eating his face almost made her sick. It took everything in her power to force all emotion to shut down sans vague irritation. When he expressed displeasure towards the whole affair later on, Belle had resolved to never allow Bainethiel near her Jedi ever again.

Bellethiel blinked at the thought. Since when had Qui-Gon become hers? As far as she was concerned, he was still his own. The man belonged to no one but himself. He was his own person. It was one of the things she lo-.

_STOP! _Her mind screamed.

"You can't think of any other reason why he would feel the need to stand ten feet away from the main party watching us work out scouting routes that we have covered an hour ago?" asked Lorn with a slight suggestion hinted at in his words.

Belle tried not to show any reaction to her uncle's words, she really did, but a deep, red, blush appeared on her cheek anyway despite her efforts. Her uncle smiled gently at her.

"He likes you a lot," Lorn commented lightly.

Belle's face fell and a sad smile danced on her lips.

"Not as much as I do him, I assure you," she muttered.

"Oh Belle," breathed her uncle after a moment of silence while he processed the information.

She turned her smile to him. It didn't quite meet her eyes.

"I will not let it bother me. It is only an infatuation. It will pass," she assured him.

Three days of absolutely no Qui-Gon would do wonders, she knew.

* * *

One of the first things Obi-Wan learned on the hunter patrol was just how far ahead of him Bellethiel was in terms of stealth, tracking and agility. No amount of Force susceptibility could compensate the natural abilities of the elven race. It struck Obi-Wan just how much Ailya, the blind seer, had lost. Belle was a shadow. She moved among them as if she was as invisible as the wind.

She was, in all honesty, a tad bit scary.

The other two were just as mysterious and elusive. When it came time for the four to separate into groups of two, the brother and sister pair left the princess in his capable hands… or possibly the other way around.

Obi-Wan spent the first day with the princess being taught how to navigate without using the Force. It involved using his five senses, things known to betray one, and honing them to be aware of nature around him. She showed him how to use shadows to his advantage and instructed him in how to silently move through the forest ground and climb trees.

It was an informative experience and Obi-Wan found that, by the end of the day, he had enjoyed it. He told her as much while they prepared their beds under the roots of an old tree that grew out of a small hill.

She smiled at the veiled compliment.

"I am glad that you are finding this educational," she said in a light tone that indicated to him that she was slightly teasing him.

"It is an enjoyable experience as well," he added good naturedly.

She shrugged and began to cover the entrance of their hovel with dead leaves and branches to better camouflage their presence.

"It can be if you only patrol the fringe of the deep woods. This is only reconnaissance. We are establishing whether or not our borders are secure," she informed him.

He nodded and pulled the elven robe Artemis had bequeathed to him the hour before they left around his lean frame while he planted his head against his light travel pack. Obi-Wan had to admit that the sleeping arrangements could have been worse (and he had been in worse). He sighed and lay in his rudimentary bedding while thinking about the day.

"Is there a chance that we will run into anything… unnatural?" he asked.

Bellethiel finished checking the area around her before settling herself into a space for sleep. She remained silent for a few minutes and Obi-Wan wondered if she was recollecting an answer or merely not wishing to answer the question. It turned out to be the former.

"There was a time when that was possible, but now it is rare. However, my aunt always practices constant vigilance when on her patrols and always expects the worse to happen, so I would not be surprised if the occasional dark creature made its presence known," she said.

"Ah," came is monosyllable reply.

That was something to think about.

"How is your first impression of the dense woodlands?" she asked.

Obi-Wan thought for a second before coming up with an honest answer as he possibly could.

"It is rather dark," he said.

Her heard her light-hearted laugh from where she rested in the folds of her own cloak.

"The cities where the Eduna peoples dwell are much prettier to look at than the rest of the forest. Most of it is full of dying and decay- the realm of the Knight Elves," she explained.

"Knight Elves?" he asked still not entirely sure about what they were.

"Elves who have fallen into the snare of the Evil One and practice sorcery, necromancy and other, vile, forms of ritualistic dark magic. Their power is borrowed and not of their own. The more they use it the more they fall into the clutches of he who controls all evil. Your Sith would be a good example of what they are like. The Knight Elves, over time, evolved into their own race because their children were trained in the dark arts from a young age. It is possible, but rare, that we receive a regenerate Knight Elf. Most of the time, they are far too gone to be allowed to live. The longer they thrive, the more darkness they unleash into the land. If you haven't noticed, that darkness is poison to it," she explained.

"Sith tend to not submit to the will of the Force. Jedi, as far as I am aware, are not able to always feel their presence," remarked Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan, I have no doubt that the Sith adhere to the will of the Evil One as much as the Knight Elves do. The Evil One influences all around him and will stop at nothing to destroy everything in his wake."

"Artemis doesn't have an elven name," he remarked after a while.

She chuckled, "No, not from the Rhunic dialect. Hers is from an ancient human language her mother favored from her days on earth."

She must have known she would be confused because she immediately expanded, "The White Witch, as she is called, is my grandmother and also a bygone ancestor of mine. The current royal family has reproduced so often that our line has been watered down to the point where we were no longer considered immediate family. My father was thirteen hundred years old, the youngest of my grandmother's second marriage, when he met my mother and married into the family. The White Witch also married into the royal line thousands of years ago, so she is not considered a living heir."

Obi-Wan snorted, "This talk of ancestry makes me glad that I am not only mortal but also a Jedi. Attempting to keep track of my family background would drive me insane."

"It is a bit trying, I will give you that," she replied.

"What is her name? I'm assuming its not 'White Witch'," he inquired.

"Silmarien Elentari," Bellethiel told him, "and before you ask, no I have never met her. The five lords are mostly at fault for that, but she also never travels from beyond the forests of her home. I think she prefers her solitude with the few elves she has in attendance."

Obi-Wan digested this information while searching for any other questions that were probably on his mind. He figured that he shouldn't be this inquisitive, but he found that he couldn't help it. Illearia and its inhabitants was a world he had never encountered before and he wanted to understand as much of it as he possibly could.

"Who is this 'Evil One' you keep mentioning?"

The silence was deafening and Obi-Wan wondered whether or not he'd crossed the line in the asking questions department.

"I would tell you now, but I think that it may be best to utter his name in the confines of the capital's walls and not in this forest. Dark things become attracted to it and I would prefer that this trip goes without incident."

Obi-Wan understood and began to go through his normal meditation exorcises to quiet his mind. Minutes later, he allowed his mind to drift off into a comfortable sleep.

Princess Bellethiel's wish that the patrol end with nothing happening to her group was rejected on the second day. In hindsight, Obi-Wan figured that he should have known something bad was going to happen. He was with the princess, after all.

The day-long patrol began with little incident. It had frosted during the night and Bellethiel used her elemental magic to warm the two of them before setting out into the deep woods. Both were silent and Obi-Wan could feel the princess' eyes observing him whenever they executed one of the maneuvers they had practiced the day before. He felt the sensation, again, that in this scenario she was the one protecting him instead.

Midday was when everything began to go wrong. The princess was bending down to observe some tracks she noticed seemed off and Obi-Wan was attempting to listen to the world around them. The young padawan barely had time to shout an alarm when something dark, misshapen and clammy launched itself at him. The hum of his blue lightsaber filled the white noise that was the forest as he sliced at the thing attacking him. When the blade went through it, he nearly cried out in despair.

The princess kept a cool head and summoned fire. A great flame engulfed the shadow creature and it screamed.

Obi-Wan had to drop his saber and cover his ears. The scream was so high pitched and hallow sounding it nearly made his ears bleed. When the fire dissipated the black mist creature was gone.

When he finally regained some of his wits he turned to the deeply frowning elleth, breathing heavily.

"What was that?" he gasped out.

Bellethiel started out of her troubled reverie and stared blankly at him before replying, "That was a wraith. Wraiths are dark spirits summoned by the vilest of necromancy. They are a type of demon and have been known to possess its prey before devouring their soul."

He nodded dumbly and looked back at the place where the wraith used to be. He shuddered.

"How do you kill them, besides using fire?" he asked.

Bellethiel still looked troubled about something, but this time she answered his question immediately.

"Lightcraft. I can't fight them with that type of magic yet. Artemis, however, can and Maf, as I am certain you know, is one of the masters of this magic."

Obi-Wan nodded again and allowed another shudder to escape him. He had been around legions of Sith before, dealt with nefarious scientists as well as countless other Force sensing problems. He had never faced anything so horribly shaking as a wraith and he did not care to again. Bellethiel, from the look on her face, seemed to not be so sure this one was the last. In fact, if he was any judge, she looked very worried.

"Wraiths are not seen this far out of the Deep Woods. If they are here then that means we must be cautious. Knight Elves are abroad," she warned.

"Right," he croaked out as fear began to take hold.

They caught each other's eye and he knew that she was thinking the same thing as he was. Qui-Gon should have come with them.

"We need to find Lorn and Artemis. Now," she ordered.

He nodded and the two of them set out to search. They were more careful of their surroundings. She was meticulous about completely fading into the shadows and passing unseen.

Suddenly she froze and pulled him up one of the high trees and off of the ground. Realizing the gravity of their situation caused Obi-Wan to not make one sound of protest. They breathed lightly and waited.

Sounds of very light footsteps were hard and soft voices, male, drifting up through the dense foliage.

"Are you certain they went this way?" asked one.

"Quite," replied the other.

"Lord Lanyar will not be pleased if we miss her again," whispered the other.

Obi-Wan forced himself to remain calm and glanced at the princess beside him. She was clutching the branch she was resting her hand against so hard that he wouldn't be surprised if there was a resounding crack.

"Do you think Duon found the bitch's aunt and uncle?" asked the other.

"I would not be surprised to find those hunters dead when we catch the princess and her little lap dog," muttered the first.

Obi-Wan felt incensed by that remark. 'Lap dog'? Him?

He was turned to make sure the princess was okay, but he started when he noticed her gone. Panicked, he scanned the area for her and was dismayed when he couldn't find her. Where had she-?

She was in the next tree over with two arrows notched to her bow. Perplexed Obi-Wan watched as she aimed and then shot.

The two Knight elves died quietly with arrows embedded in the back of their throats. Obi-Wan gaped. The both of them slipped out of their hiding places to inspect the dead elves prone on the ground. The Jedi Padawan was still dazed by the move the princess made.

"You killed them," he stated.

She nodded, "They would have killed you and then taken me. Two less Knight Elves in the world the better."

Obi-Wan watched in dumbfounded silence as she inspected the bodies.

_I think I'm beginning to realize a few things about hunters that I never wanted to know, _he thought.

It was obvious that she had killed Knight Elves before. The fact that she lived for one hundred years was beginning to weigh on him. Artemis and Lorn took her on dangerous missions like these and obviously trained her as an assassin. Did she even think about the lives she took? Did she feel remorse?

He studied her in fascinated horror.

"We could have questioned them," he suggested.

She snorted, "I would like to think that, Obi-Wan, but they would have killed themselves before I could get anything out of them."

_Oh, well, that makes sense I guess,_ he thought.

He wished it didn't. He wished that he could label what she did as murder, but he was beginning to see her side of the argument and accept it as actual fact. They were out for a kidnapping and murder of their own.

"We need to find my aunt and uncle as quickly as possible. It may be that they're already fighting this Ruon character," she said emotionlessly.

As they sped off something hit Obi-Wan's mind like a hammer and he almost stopped in horror.

"Belle, they mentioned Lanyar!" he exclaimed.

She did stop and her mouth hung open as she stared ahead in growing horror. Obi-Wan too felt fearful. This was not good.

"They planned this," she breathed out.

And then they were surrounded.

Obi-Wan barely had time to raise his lightsaber to deflect the burst of dark magic sent his way. Bellethiel drew her sword and whirled on the company of Knight Elves with a ferocity that seemed barely contained. Obi-Wan couldn't sense the dark being through the Force and had to greatly rely on his primal instincts to dodge and counter attack. He was ding rather well until a burst of dark energy grazed his side and created a large, welting, burn in his flesh. He gasped and stumbled. There was a glint of burnt metal descending towards him.

A flash of bronze, brown and green blurred his vision and a mithril sword diverted the assault while a small body collided into the ghostly white figure that was the Knight Elf about to attack him. Obi-Wan regained his balance and sliced the head off of the elf coming behind him to plunge a knife into his back. Unconsciously he reached out and searched for the Force. Three elves were thrown off of their feet and into a bushel of thorns.

He was about to help the princess when another flash of dark magic hit him squarely in the back and blew him off of his feet and to the ground.

Barely conscious Obi-Wan struggled to rise. His vision blurred and breath hitched. All strength left him and he slumped to the ground. Was that the princess calling his name? He couldn't be sure. All he knew after another minute was silence and a blissful darkness that swallowed him into sweet oblivion.

* * *

Artemis was hiding while holding her bloodied arm attempting to clean the wound while gaining a breather. Lorn, where was Lorn? Where was her brother?

She winced as the medicinal leaves she crushed against the gaping wound stung the inflamed area. Knight Elves! Where had they come from? How did they even know where to look? They were after Belle, that much she was certain, but how was she going to reach her niece with a pack of werewolves chasing after her?

She closed her eyes and let out a strangled sigh. This was not the first time she had been in a pretty pickle as this one. There were ways of combating a few cursed creatures!

Artemis shifted and listened for the telltale signs of angry growls and snapping teeth. Instead she heard voices.

"We have the uncle, Duon," said one female voice.

"Excellent, he will accompany us into the Tower of Fear. We will use him as leverage if the first plan does not work," rasped a voice that made her blood boil.

It wasn't just their subject matter, she knew who Duon was. Artemis bit her lip to stop herself from letting out a loud expletive. It wouldn't do to get caught now.

"My lord, we have the princess!" exclaimed a new tenor voice and the huntress' blood ran cold.

No!

"The Jedi whelp?"

"All but dead, my lord," came the eager reply.

Artemis clenched the hand with the poltace oozing the odd purple liquid. The pain that lanced through her nerves was helping with keeping her anger in check.

"What of the aunt?" asked Duon.

"We cannot say, my lord. Thron took a fall with her and that was the last time we saw the both of them."

"Then it is likely she still lives take a party of three and find her."

Artemis opened her eyes and blocked the rest of the conversation from her general hearing. It sounded like they were a good few miles from her, which meant that it would take them a while to find where she was. By then she would be long gone.

Her thoughts centered on finding a hopefully living Obi-Wan, Artemis wrapped her wound with a clean cloth and faded into the foliage. She didn't know how old these Knight Elves were, but she could guarantee that she knew these woods better than they.

* * *

Obi-Wan drifted in darkness. There was no light, no sound and no thought; just a sea of endless black. It was comforting, warming, beautiful and serene. Something nagged at him for a moment; a warning about something or other he needed to do. He couldn't put a finger on what that something was or why there was a warning for it so he allowed it to fly past him.

"Kenobi!" cried a sharp voice.

Who was 'Kenobi'?

Suddenly his body was jolted and pain like he never experienced before coursed through his body. He cried out and reality came back to him in a rush. The fight and those Knight Elves and the princess…

"Where's Bellethiel?" he rasped out and then coughed.

Thankfully there was no blood.

His vision was blurry as he opened his eyes. He was in someone's arms. Those arms were strong and slim, almost motherly. Who was speaking to him? The edges of his vision faded again.

Whoever held him slapped him on the back of his head and then everything cleared, including his vision. It hadn't hurt but…

Oh, his back and side were killing him! So much pain. He blinked and then focused his gaze on the midnight haired star staring down at him with concern evident in her green eyes.

"Artemis-," he was cut off when a water skin was forced to his lips.

"They have both my niece and Lorn, Kenobi. You were on the receiving end of two pain curses and I do not have the skill to remove them. We need to leave now. Can you walk?" she asked brusquely.

He opened his mouth but only a pained groan came out. She rolled her eyes and hoisted him to his feet.

"I thought as much," she muttered and began heaving him towards the capital.

Obi-Wan tried to object, "Leave me."

"Absolutely not! Your master will already have a coronary when he finds out that both my brother and niece are missing! I am not going to be responsible for your death as well! Come on!" she snapped irritably.

Obi-Wan leaned most of his weight against her though he attempted to relieve her from much of his bulk as possible. He noticed, even in his delirious state, how she was favoring her left arm. And there was some blood, now that he thought of it.

"Who… has…," he tried but she overruled him.

"Silence! Save your voice and concentrate on living, then we will speak of our enemies!"

Obi-Wan grunted and attempted to regain control of his body. When he realized that it was fruitless endeavor, he settled with letting the elleth practically drag him through the forest.

"We'll be out of here soon enough, don't worry," she told him.

He nodded.

_To Be Continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Battalions of Fear**

**Author's Note: _O.O... I really can't believe I finally finished this chapter. It had been sitting in my files for so long because of all of the computer crap I had experienced earlier this summer, then I lost interest because I hadn't looked at it for so long. I'm glad I did, because my earlier ideas for this chapter were quite horrible and I also took the time to edit one scene that ended up being the reason I had initially lost interest. _**

**_Anyway, the title for this chapter "Battalions of Fear" is the title of another Blind Guardian song. I haven't listened to this song in a while, so I don't really know how close it is to the actual lyrics (so far, I don't think most of them were). I'm mostly going off of title themes._**

**_This will not be the last time you see the Knight Elves. In fact, this chapter is leading up to the final breaking point when all hell breaks loose. To that effect, we have about two more chapters after this one before that happens. _**

**_Like it? Hate it? Despise it? Review and tell me!_**

* * *

Four days. Four days and no sign of the little group of four that went out on patrol; four days since he saw his padawan; four days since he spoke with Lorn; four days since Artemis threw a particularly nasty comment to him, and four days since he saw that the princess was safe. Qui-Gon was going mad with the valiant attempt not to dissolve into a fit of worry.

The Jedi Master sighed and leaned back into the couch that rested in the confines of the common room. There was no peace within him. He couldn't reach it. Obi-Wan could manage it so well in the confines of Illearia, but him? He couldn't get the nagging urge that something happened out of his head. The Force had alerted him a while back to a suffering injury that his apprentice obtained on the second day of the outing. Brief tremors continued since then. Despite Obi-Wan's evident injury Qui-Gon felt something else; something sinister.

Something happened to Bellethiel. He didn't know why that thought plagued him, but it did. He was frustrated with the fact that the queen and the five lords (one of whom was mysteriously absent) didn't seem concerned. The White Council, on the other hand, were growing uneasy and Ailya had withdrawn into the Halls of Healing for a reason he couldn't fathom.

A soft, wet, nose nudged his knee and Qui-Gon glanced down at the amber eyes of the ebony wolf currently in his care. The princess had asked him to not cut back, but increase, the animal's training while she was absent. His blue eyes met those emotional orbs that shined like twin moons up at him and he smiled slightly. As if on instinct, Qui-Gon reached out to scratch Sila behind her ears in an effort to comfort the concerned canine next to him and quell his own fears.

"Where is your mistress? I don't suppose you would know, hmm?" he asked her.

She continued to stare at him with a heartbreaking forlorn expression on her face. He sighed through his nose and rose to his feet. From the look she was giving him, he had a feeling that she wanted to wander around the castle grounds for a while. Sila followed him out of the room and padded behind him as he trudged through the winding halls and out into the open air. He glanced up at the new sun and nodded to himself. The rays of the star peeked over the distant mountain horizon and signaled the dawning of the fifth day of his apprentice and the princess' absence. Knowing that there was little else he could do at that moment, Qui-Gon approached the training grounds and drew out his lightsaber. He needed the saber practice.

He was deep into the movements of Form III when he noticed a tall, silver haired figure, standing silently in the background watching him. He continued with his exorcises as if he hadn't noticed the intruder and chose to observe from the corner of his eye. The figure was female, tall and willowy, like most Rhune elleth. She had the trademark beauty of her race and was dressed in a rather simplistic green dress. A part of him wondered if this one was another Bainethiel wishing to seduce him away from the princess, but something told him, from the look on her face, that such wasn't her intention.

He felt the irony of that thought. It seemed that the more he didn't have to rely on the Force, the better his perception of elven mood seemed to improve. The Lady Ailya had not lied when she told him that the more he relied on his base instincts the sharper they would become.

Qui-Gon simply shrugged that thought away. It was probably going to result in another disagreement with the council.

He finished going through the Soresu forms and then met the emerald green eyes of the silver haired elleth standing on the sidelines.

"I normally do not meet anyone accept by appointment. Why should I make you the exception?" he asked.

The elleth raised an eyebrow at him and entered the training area. The correct term for that would have been "glided".

"Because I have information concerning our princess' whereabouts. I can assure you that I received this from a reliable source," she told him.

Qui-Gon studied her. She was tall enough to look him squarely in the eyes. He had to admit that he was intrigued by such a proclamation. It also tickled his nerves with anticipation and foreboding. From the way she was carrying herself, Qui-Gon figured that whatever news she had was not good.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"I am the lady Earmiriel from the house of Tyre. I know that my brothers wish to court the princess, but I can assure you that my intentions in this, and all other instances, are pure," she said.

Qui-Gon motioned to one of the wooden observation benches set up for those wishing to observe the work of others. They sat and she closed her eyes before beginning.

"I overheard a conversation between the Lord of the house of Undbegyr and Taurinos ven Egire concerning the welfare of the princess. Taurinos told Lord Vanyo that his father was currently in the Deep Woods in the stronghold of the Knight Elves," she caught his confused look and quickly added, "Knight Elves do not have the best interests of the royal house in mind. One is never born a Knight Elf. You become one through the pursuit of sorcery and swearing fealty to the Evil One. Lord Vanyo asked if Lord Lanyar was merely acting in his own interests to marry Taurinos to the princess. Taurinos assured him otherwise."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes in an attempt to calm his current raging emotions. It was difficult to do so. If this was true then that meant Bellethiel was captured in the hands of her enemies and had been so for at least two days.

"Did they mention her traveling companions?" he asked.

She nodded, "Taurinos informed Lord Vanyo that Lady Artemis and Apprentice Kenobi are missing. It is possible that, at least, Kenobi is dead. They are not certain about Artemis. Hunter Lorn has been captured most likely to help sway the princess. I doubt that would work. Her family members have been preparing her for this type of thing should it ever occur and I am certain they were thorough in their training. It is likely that Lord Lanyar will attempt to break her spirit."

Qui-Gon's jaw was set, but he at least was able to be certain of one thing, "My padawan isn't dead. I would have felt it."

She nodded and took that at face value. Qui-Gon felt relief at that.

"I must find them," he muttered.

"Then I and my younger brother will accompany you," she said pointedly.

Qui-Gon was on his feet and heading towards the exit to the training grounds. Sila came immediately to his side and shot Lady Earmiriel a suspicious look. The silver haired elf merely inclined her head in the presence of the large wolf.

"We won't have time to find any of your brothers. We have to go now," snapped Qui-Gon.

Earmiriel shrugged and reached out to stop his charge. He turned was about to snap at her when she held up a warning hand.

"We will need a map and I have a sneaking suspicion that the library is not the place to find one," she said.

Significantly deflated and feeling rather helpless in the current situation, a feeling he was certainly not used to, Qui-Gon sighed.

"What is your suggestion, then?" he asked.

She smiled and suddenly the Jedi Master was reminded of the princess. It was rather amazing that the Rhune Elves from one of the five major houses could produce such a strong willed female, yet level headed, female. Most of the Rhune elleth he met were either demure and quiet, or extremely silly in nature yet still submissive. Lady Earmiriel seemed to go against the stereotype.

"We find the wizard, Maf. If we locate him, we will find my younger brother. Let us make haste," she nudged him gently in the direction of the castle.

Qui-Gon, unsure of what else to do, followed her. It was best that he focused on the task at hand. It stopped the flow of concern, worry, and self-censure that threatened to explode from his subconscious.

* * *

Princess Bellethiel ven Aldura was not in a good mood. In fact, it was safe to say that said mood ranged from grief at the possible loss of Artemis and Obi-Wan and anger at being double-crossed by one of the greatest bastards known to the inhabitants of Illearia. Lord Lanyar, she knew, was always a sore loser when it came to the rejection of elven royals concerning his family. If she correctly recalled, her great-grandmother had spurned his advances in want of a lowly Rhune Elven baker from the southern end of the capital. It was evident that her continuous dismissal of his son's advances had angered him before she was captured. She simply hadn't thought the ellon was foolish enough to ally himself with Knight Elves just to make her marry his son.

In all honesty, she should have seen it coming. They traveled further into the Deep Woods than they had thought following the directions of a map they acquired from the library during their planning period. The Eduna never drew maps of their forest and preferred to use star charts. Artemis and Lorn were probably two of a handful of Eduna elves that knew how to read one. The fact that they used false information from a place where truth was supposed to be held to the highest of standards meant that the trip, itself, was a set-up. Such a diabolical plot was most likely crafted over months of planning. It made her wonder if these false maps were the cause of her father's and former guardians' demises. She would not be surprised if that were the case.

She sighed and adjusted her seat against the wall of her moldy, stone prison. If all of this was allowed to happen in the palace library, than that meant her mother turned a blind eye to it. The queen was, after all, in charge of everything that went on in the castle. She would have known.

Belle frowned at this line of thinking as she shifted in her holding cell to better make herself comfortable. Ultimately, that was the crux of the matter. Her mother was too damned weak to do anything accept roll over like an obedient dog (lower than that even!) and pander to whatever the five lords want her to do. Vanyo and Lanyar seemed to be the two lords she feared the most. At least, if her mother knew about the Knight Elven allies, the queen had some reason to fear them.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. The shackles around her wrists slid down her arm slightly and elicited a pained wince from her. The bloody things were starting to chaff.

Queen Miriel was the ruler of the elven race. Not much stood in her way. Her power, from just simply being of the royal line alone, was greater than most others in the race. In all honesty, there wasn't much the Egyre and Undbegyr lords could do to her without forcing some sort of oath of apathy from her.

Ah. That had to be it.

And who better to force her than two elven lords who allied themselves with the very beings sworn to break the royal family and destroy Illearia as she knew it? The Knight Elves would be formidable allies in that regard. They would wish to break her spirit as the coming queen of the elves. Part of breaking her spirit would involve her marrying an ellon devoted to the dark arts.

"Well, now that we've established their diabolical plot, now what?" she wondered out loud to herself.

Two days of doing absolutely nothing other than evaluate her current predicament offered her many answers, but provided little to no solutions. She couldn't escape. The dragon-bone chains that bound her inhibited her ability to make use of her natural gifts. She was powerless. Her uncle was in a cell two blocks over being tortured (she could hear his screams and tried, hard, not to think about them) so he was out of the question. Both of them were separated. No one likely knew of what transpired if Artemis and Obi-Wan were dead or lost or wounded. It seemed that the only course of action would be to accept Lanyar ven Egire's son's hand in marriage.

Belle glared at the wall and allowed her resolve to grow. She would not give in.

She closed her eyes as a wave of sadness washed through her. Her aunt and Obi-Wan were likely dead. There was no way Obi-Wan, at least, could have survived the dark curses that hit him. Even if he had the strength to move after being bombarded with such dark spells Bellethiel doubted he would be able to for very long.

She should have stayed home. It was so obvious that Lanyar had been braced for an opportunity like this. If her aunt and Obi-Wan were dead, it was her fault. Her uncle, she knew, would probably not be too far behind.

The door to her cell opened and startled her out of her reverie. She looked up and found the elf lord in question gazing down at her with cool appraisal. She glared at him.

"You still refuse?" he asked.

She continued to glare at him in answer. A smirk made its way to his lips and a glint of dark humor became reflected in his blue eyes. Was it a trick of the light or were those eyes beginning to have a red tint to them?

"Your uncle suffers with your stubbornness. Do you truly wish for his slow and painful death?" he asked.

Bellethiel ven Aldura continued to glare at him. It was all she would do now. To give in would displease her uncle more than her saving his life. In any case, she doubted that Lord Lanyar intended for Lorn to live even if she did agree. In any case, she refused to subject herself to either the Egire or Undbegyr families. She would rather die.

"Traitor," she muttered darkly.

He chuckled darkly, "You would think so, but it is your mother I consider the traitor. You are merely a bi-product of a dirty marriage tainted with the blood of the Eduna. I am merely here to make the once Rhunic line pure again."

Bellethiel continued to glare at him as she replied, "I will never marry from a family who serves the Evil One."

He snorted, leaned down, and grabbed the ripped color of her tunic. Belle felt the tug of his strong arm as he hauled her level with his eyes. The stench of evil reeked from him. She could smell it. She wondered when she received that ability since she was certain she ever had it before. Maybe it was simply that potent in the spirit of this ellon? She wasn't sure.

"No, I wouldn't thing you would ever want to marry from the Rhune elves. In fact, I think you've developed the same disgusting taste in males as your professor has; a taste in the human dogs. Do not look so surprised, my lady, you are not as subtle as you would like to believe. What if I took your pet human and tortured him in front of you? Hmm? What horrors would you feel, my lady? I am certain your answer will change, yes?" he asked her.

Fear gripped her, as fear for her uncle churned within, except this one was colder. The thought of Qui-Gon hurting because of her for the simple fact that she harbored deep feelings for him nearly dissipated all of her anger. She resisted the urge to show that fear, though she was certain that her glare wavered for a brief moment. Belle forced her mind to think of the possibly deceased Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master's padawan who died for her cause. If she gave in, she would dishonor his memory and, in return, dishonor the master. She refused to do so.

"Never. There is nothing that you can say that will make me change my mind. There is no physical torture, not one threat, that will ever make me marry a Knight Elf," she swore.

He slammed her against the wall as rage consumed his features.

"I am no Knight Elf you crossbreed bitch!" he hissed.

The breath was knocked from her and her vision blurred at the impact of her head against the solid granite stone of her cell.

"I am not my mother," she whispered, "I am not weak."

He dropped her unceremoniously to the ground. The chains around her wrist scratched against her blistered skin and her body erupted into an avalanche of pain as all of her previous wounds from the battle two days ago were jogged from the fall. Lord Lanyar stepped away from her with a cruel smile twisting he features.

"No, I suppose you're not. We will have to fix that," he remarked and backed out of her prison.

Bellethiel closed her eyes and continued to lay on the floor and wait for the pain her body was in to numb again.

* * *

While the princess and Lorn were suffering at the hands of their captors, Artemis was attempting to ease the suffering of the magically injured padawan. The trip was longer than she anticipated. It took them the rest of the second day to find a place to hide for that night. The huntress spent that time attempting to heal Kenobi's curse wounds but to little avail. She didn't specialize in lightcraft or specialized healing magic. She was a huntress. The magic she knew was all air element centered and had little to do with healing.

She regretted never learning the thing that her mother was renowned for.

Now, two days later, Obi-Wan was in a state of deliriousness. He could barely move his body. His mind was in its own little world of nightmares. When he did come back from said world, it was only for a few moments. This morning, he was coughing up blood. It was only a matter of time, she figured, before he slipped too far out of her reach and would never come back.

Artemis closed her eyes as dread filled her. She disliked Jedi, that was certain, but this boy was something else entirely. There was a guilelessness about him that was endearing and she found that the more she was around him the more he awakened her motherly instincts. It was annoying, but it was the truth. The kid grew on her.

Now he was dying because she was stupid enough take Belle on this foolhardy patrol in the first place. She had grievously underestimated her opponents. She just wished she knew how they figured out where they were. Dark creatures weren't supposed to be able to travel to the fringe of the Deep Woods. There were too many wards around the area for such a thing to occur. The only explanation for this would be if…

_Those bastards,_ she thought as apprehension dawned, _they did something to the maps!_

Obi-Wan groaned and brought her attention and anger away from those responsible for their current position. He was beginning to look pale.

She glanced up at the sky and let out a careful breath. It was beginning to become later afternoon. Even if she carried the boy, they wouldn't make it to the capital in time. Obi-Wan was too far gone.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the tree she was sitting in front of. If the boy was to die, then she intended to be with him until the very end. Then she would give him a proper burial. It was the least he deserved.

A howl pierced the silence and startled her. Alarm sounded in her head and she jumped to her feet, knife drawn from its sheath. If the enemy found them, then let them come! She narrowed her forest green eyes and waited patiently for-.

A shadow moved from among the thickets and a black, young, wolf materialized out of the gloom. Her mouth dropped. Wasn't that Sila? The wolf's yellow eyes locked with hers ad Artemis knew.

"Artemis!" cried an elderly voice from behind Sila.

The huntress looked up and saw the grey cloak of the old wizard, Maf, and relief flooded through every fiber of her being. She sagged against the tree as a wave of exhaustion hit her. The old man started for her but she shook her head.

"See to the boy, he needs help now!" she managed to gasp out.

She almost toppled to the ground, but a pair of peach colored arms caught her and she met the emerald green eyes of Lady Earmiriel of the House of Tyre. The silver haired elleth smiled gently at the huntress and lifted her good arm around her shoulder.

"Lean on me, if you will, you are in no condition to stand on your own," she ordered kindly.

Artemis was about to give a witty retort when she caught the looming figure of Qui-Gon Jinn hurrying out of the shadows and kneeling beside his apprentice. She held her breath.

"Will he…?" the man trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Maf inspected the boy for a few moments longer before saying in what Artemis knew was a relieved voice, "He will live."

That was all she could have asked for as she finally allowed herself the luxury of passing out.

* * *

Professor Laurel Moruni didn't like the noise contraptions that the Republic called Galactic Cruisers. Granted, this Nubian cruiser owned by the Naboo Senator, Palpatine, was a nicer quality than the others she had the pleasure of riding in the past, but she missed the sleek and quiet hum of the elven space craft. She vaguely wondered if Yoda felt the same way from the few times he boarded the elven cruisers.

Laurel was at her usual spot in one of the areas of the cafeteria when she was approached by Senator Palpatine. She glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow and waited for him to tell her what he wanted.

"Professor, I am to inform you that you have a transmission waiting for you from Illearia," he told her.

Laurel blinked, "Can it not wait? We're nearly there."

Palpatine shook his head, "I am afraid not, Professor. It seemed urgent from what the Lady Artemis was saying."

She straightened up at that. Artemis didn't normally correspond with her directly. The only fathomable reason she could think of for why her charge's aunt was speaking with her was the possibility that something happened to Bellethiel. She sprung to her feet and hurried towards the bridge.

When she reached the area of her destination she glared at the pilot and crossed her arms.

"Open communications to Illearia! Now!" she snapped.

The pilot, suddenly afraid that the powerful elf before her might turn him into something unnatural moved to open the comm.. Lady Artemis stood in holographic form with both arms crossed and a hard expression on her face. One arm, her left, looked as if it had been bandaged.

"We have a situation, Professor," she began.

"Don't beat around the bush Artemis! Just tell me what my fool of an apprentice did this time!" snapped the fiery red head.

Artemis looked stricken suddenly and Laurel had a feeling that whatever happened to Bellethiel wasn't actually her fault. She leaned forward and placed both arms on either side of the holo-transmitter.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Please understand that the Jedi are not at fault in this. Belle has been kidnapped by Knight Elves under the control of Lord Lanyar," explained the huntress uneasily.

Laurel was at a loss for words. Even with their handicap concerning elves, she knew for a fact that Force sensitive people could tell where a Knight Elf was. She tapped the metal side of the transmitter while her green eyes narrowed.

"Where was she?" she asked.

"Out on patrol with myself, Lorn and Padawan Kenobi. Master Jinn stayed behind by election. We hadn't intended to, but we ended up wandering passed the fringe of the Deep Woods and into the thick of the forest. Maf says that the maps were tampered with and most likely have been showing false information for months. Lorn and I… we were foolish and didn't notice," explained the raven haired elf.

Laurel took a shaky breath and slowly let it out, "Where's Lorn?"

Artemis' face suddenly became a mask as she answered, "Captured or dead. We don't know. Maf and Qui-Gon were too busy trying to revive Kenobi to look for them. Professor, please say you're close? We need you here now."

Laurel lowered her head and closed her eyes. She needed to remain calm. She needed to quell that fear inside of her before she began making irrational decisions. She needed to keep it together.

"We have a good twelve hours left before we reach Illearia," she told Artemis.

The raven haired elleth shook her head, "The rescue party will be gone by then. Master Jinn worked his magic on Taurinos and practically pulled the information out of him. I don't believe I've ever seen a Jedi that… close to losing his composure before."

Laurel had and the bit of information the huntress just relayed to her gave her some pause. What exactly had she missed during her stay on Coruscant?

"That's fine, I shall tie-up loose ends when I get there."

Artemis nodded, "I will help you. Ailya will not let me leave for this mission."

Laurel almost snapped "good" but kept her tongue to herself. It would be best to not fan the flames of shame and embarrassment already burning.

"May Eru give you peace, I will see you soon," said Laurel gently.

Artemis bowed, "And may his grace guide you safely home."

The hologram flickered off and Laurel remained standing where she was staring blankly at the place where Artemis stood. Senator Palpatine decided to breech the gap.

"What do you intend to do, Professor?" he asked.

She clenched the sides of the transmitter and raised her head to glare at the wall.

"I'm going to protect the crown."

* * *

Qui-Gon had watched in silence while Ailya tended to the curse wounds Obi-Wan suffered from. It was all he really had the energy to do after speaking with Artemis. On one hand, he was worried to the point of hysteria for his padawan and the possible fate he could meet if the blind elf failed to cure him. On the other, his mind constantly conjured up images of Bellethiel in a similar state, or worse, every other minute. He attempted to push every scenario concerning her out of his mind and focus his thoughts solely on Obi-Wan. With his padawan, it was only the brink of insanity. With Bellethiel, with every stab of ice to his heart at the mere thought of her possible fate, he would go mad. He failed. Miserably. He should have gone with them. He would have protected her. Obi-Wan was still too young, too inexperienced, to fight in a situation like he had. Qui-Gon had no doubt about the fact that Belle had done everything she could to watch his back as Obi-Wan did hers.

Earmiriel had explained the sinister plot to Artemis who, in turn, relayed it to the queen. Miriel, as predicted, could do nothing. This resulted in probably one of the loudest outbursts of anger Qui-Gon had ever witnessed. The huntress harbored a formidable temper, it was evident, and she unleashed the brunt of it against the queen. The ruler silently bore every abuse Artemis had thrown at her before finally leaving the healing ward with as much dignity intact as she could spare. It was after that, the huntress left to inform Professor Moruni of what transpired. Qui-Gon was left alone in the healing ward that Obi-Wan rested in feeling extremely ill. Ailya, who continued to steadily work on the young man, was silent.

"You are troubled, Master Jinn," stated the seer while she checked Obi-Wan's fever with the back of her hand.

He didn't answer. He knew that he didn't need to. She already knew. He waited for her to continue with whatever she had to say. It was probably going to center around the missing princess.

"I told you that your padawan's friendship with the princess would not be enough to protect her. I warned you that you had to allow yourself to become attached in order to protect. You followed my advice. The princess remained safe. Then you pulled away and she is now in the hands of her enemies. There are many things that I do not agree with the Jedi about, but I do believe that we hold the same views when it comes to fear. You allowed your fear to consume you, Master Jinn, and now your apprentice is hurt," she said softly.

What made it worse was the fact that she wasn't even accusing him of anything. She was merely stating everything that happened to verbally sum up his predicament. The sting of his failure was felt all the more.

"That attachment was love, then?" he asked in a voice dripping with irony.

Ailya's blind eyes rose and met his blue ones. They pierced through to the core of his soul and he wondered, not for the first time, if she could see into the hearts of mortals and not just their fates.

"Is that what it is, Master Jinn? Are you in love with Princess Bellethiel?" she asked in a whisper.

It wasn't the first time Qui-Gon vaguely wondered if he was developing the elven sense of fate. After all, this was not the will of the Force. The Force barely recognized the existence of Illearia and completely denied the presence of the elves. Months of having to rely of something else could have made his senses attuned to a different frequency. He considered this now as he sat before the white eyes of the elven seer who was possibly as old as time itself. Those eyes held no accusation. They filled his world and created a mirror. He saw himself reflected in those eyes; everything about his life, his thoughts and his emotions laid bare for only his eyes to see. There was no lying to those eyes. They would have seen the ultimate truth in any case.

"Yes," the admission nearly drained him of his strength and he sagged into his chair the moment she dropped the gaze.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes as he processed what he told her. He had buried the feeling for so long that he felt like a part of a burden was lifted off of his back. The rest that weighed on him only partly attributed to the situation at hand and that was what he decided to focus on. He couldn't afford to think about his own mental situation. Belle's life was more important and he wished that he felt that way earlier.

"They are at the edge of the green wood to the south west of here on the border of the marshlands. Gather a fellowship of three other elves and go. Sila will guide you. She has been most anxious to find her mistress. Do not worry about your padawan. He is out of danger now and will be recovered enough tomorrow to meet your Jedi friends and explain the situation to them. Leave now," this last bit was an order and Qui-Gon found that he hadn't needed telling twice.

The moment the verdict about his apprentice's health left the seer's lips he was already on his feet hastening to find Maf. Sila, Belle's wolf, followed closely behind him.

* * *

Bellethiel was jerked from her uneasy slumber on the cold stone floor of her cell and bodily hauled to her feet. She winced at the rough movements she was forced to make as her captors jogged the minor wounds she had on her leg and shoulder. Blearily she stumbled limply in their arms as they dragged her out of the small hold and into the dimply lit hallway. Lord Lanyar gazed down at her with the Knight Elf, Duon, standing slightly behind him looming over them like a shadow. She decided to grace them with a blink of acknowledgment.

Lanyar smirked and grabbed her chin to force her head to keep steady as he leaned in. Her heartbeat sped at the nearness and a cold shiver ran up the length of her spine. His eyes were no longer the blue prominent in most of her race. They were red. Not the blood red of a vampires' eyes, but a sick, flushed, red that burned with a dark glint. It made her blood run cold. To think that they had a Knight Elf hiding in their midst!

"I have something special planned for you, my lady," he purred softly, "I am going to break you in such a personal way that you won't even begin to understand the horror of what you will witness until it completely consumes you. Have you ever heard of the Battalions of Fear?"

Her heart stopped beating. There was no way that the sudden terror she felt wasn't written on her face. He could see it. The satisfied look on his face said so.

"Yes, we have already set up a nice place for you at the very top of the tower. I think you will find it suits your needs perfectly," he was suddenly too close for comfort as he rasped, "You will break. You will scream. Every fear that you have imagined or faced, every nightmare you dreamed, every single thing that made you tremble, will come to life and there is nothing you can do about it. When we are done with you, there will be nothing left but a mindless puppet ready to do our bidding. Your life will be gone and all that remains will be an obedient wench."

Bellethiel closed her eyes and forced her body to remain calm. She forced her emotions into the back of her mind. She forced her being into serenity. She knew what she had to do, what she had to face, and she would do it gladly.

"Take her to her new chambers," Lord Lanyar ordered with his voice dripping in satisfaction.

She felt her body jerk away as they dragged her to the highest point in the tower they occupied where they would throw her into a waking nightmare. She kept her eyes closed during the journey. It was better that they remain shut. When she entered the room it would lessen the effect of the dark spell for a certain amount of time. By then, she hoped that she could build enough mental defenses to stop the invasion of her mind.

Her body jerked to a halt and she listened while an iron key scraped into the door to open it. Silently, her guards threw her into the room and she staggered and almost planted her face against a stone pillar that kept the roof steady. As curious as she was about what the room looked like, she kept her eyes shut. It was imperative that she do so.

The door slammed shut behind her and left the elf princess in alone to face her worst fears. Bellethiel leaned against the stone base for a second to catch her breath and gain her bearings. Then she limped around with her eyes squeezed shut and felt around her new prison. Everything was stone; rotten, crumbling, stone with mold and mildew caked into its surface. She touched every nook and cranny of everything standing level with her before she dropped to her knees and searched the ground for anything that could be of use.

Whispers of every lie and every bad memory met her ears and she forced herself to not listen to a word. Her hand suddenly knocked against a rock and she quickly picked it up and inspected it. It was jagged and sharp; two characteristics that brought a satisfied smile to her face. She found her fail-safe.

She started when a high-pitched, blood curdling, scream resounded around the room. Belle willed her eyes to remain shut.

_I will not give in!_

* * *

Qui-Gon observed the small group that he and Maf managed to gather. Earmiriel stood with a grim look of determination on her face while her brother, Tholim, watched the proceedings with a calm air about him that put the Jedi Knight in mind of a composed general. The Tyre family headed the sciences of Illearia. It seemed, however, that two of the house were better at fighting than science. That was his first impression when the four left to find Artemis and Obi-Wan. Now that impression solidified into an observation. Vaguely he wondered how Earmiriel managed to even learn how to fight. He doubted the Tyre elders approved of such a thing. Rhune elves seldom did.

Sila, the black furred wolf, sat beside him with her golden eyes gazing blankly at the two Tyre heirs and looking slightly on edge with anticipation. She was ready to leave.

"Do we know where they are?" asked Tholim referring to both the princess and her uncle.

Qui-Gon nodded, "Ailya informed me that she was near the border of the southern marshes, greenwood territory."

Tholim nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment, "Ailya would know, though why she told you is beyond me."

Qui-Gon gave him a confused look while Earmiriel nudged her older brother sharply.

"Forgive my brother his assumptions, Master Jedi. He has been under the impression that you and the princess were courting secretly," she said.

He nodded at felt that heavy feeling churn in his stomach at the mention of Belle. It was easy, now that he thought back on it, how anyone could come to that conclusion. Maf brushed the jab completely aside and banged his staff against the ground impatiently.

"We do not have time for idle chit-chat. The princess is in danger and we do not have a plan of action," he reminded them.

The three younger being nodded and looked to him for any suggestions. Maf, satisfied by their attentiveness, leaned against his white staff casually.

"Now, I believe I know of where Qui-Gon spoke of. That is Knight Elf territory. I believe they have an outpost in the vicinity. If Bellethiel is anywhere, it is there," he informed them.

Earmiriel glanced at her brother before asking, "Are they torturing her?"

Maf looked thoughtful and Qui-Gon's jaw hardened. The thought of Belle going through even a semblance of pain caused a certain amount of rage to well inside of him. This rage, he knew, had to be forced down. He couldn't allow it to distract him. Mistakes were not an option.

"I doubt they will in the physical sense. I would bet on mental torture, which makes it all the more imperative that we find her quickly," Maf said.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment to better quell the horror fighting to take over his mind. He was glad, though, that he couldn't feel her through the force. If such was the case he was loath to think of the mental state he would find her in.

"Then we should leave now," Throlim said stiffly.

Earmiriel nodded, "I concur. Rescuing our princess is top priority. Whatever state she is in now, it is best that we do not allow it to become worse by tarrying."

"Then it is best that we allow Sila to lead the way. She's becoming restless," Qui-Gon pointed out grimly.

Maf nodded, "Battle plan?"

Qui-Gon gave his before anyone else could intercede, "I will find her."

The authority reverberating from the deep bass of his voice actually startled his three companions. Throlim sent him an incredulous look. They locked gazes for a few minutes. Qui-Gon's calm, stubborn, stare outmatched the ellon's and Throlim pulled back abruptly with an amused look on his face.

"I believe you," Throlim replied.

Brother and sister shared at look that Qui-Gon couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't devious and neither was it filled with malice. There seemed to be an acceptance in that look. The Jedi purged the incident from his mind; however. He had more pressing issues to consider. Belle was more important.

* * *

A banshee's scream reverberated around the walls of her tower prison and startled her from her sleep. She momentarily opened her eyes to the patterned darkness that was a strip of cloth that covered them. Bellethiel felt relieved that she thought of the blindfold the previous night. It saved her from accidentally looking into the spelled darkness that her captors felt the need to place her in. The metal bracelets that bound her magic scraped against the floor as she moved to sit up and feel around. The jagged rock she found earlier was a few inches from her fingers.

As she moved, Belle winced as her left leg unfurled from its position. She already had to stab herself once. There was only so much of the whispered lies she could take before they drove her mad. The pain reminded her of what was real; told her where she was. It also added further injury to her body and damaged any chance she had of escape.

There wasn't a chance for such a thing anyway. Sorcery meant that the spell caster used their powers from another entity. In this case, she was certain that this entity was a whisper demon, one that fed off of the fears and ill-thoughts of their prey. The spell cast would have bound one to whatever dark runes used. She wondered where the spell was. After all, she had something that could mar it. Maybe if she found it, she could disable it?

But that was foolish thinking! Lanyar wasn't an idiot. He would not have chanced leaving the spell on her side of the door. No, someone probably maintained it on the other side.

She fingered the rock's sharp edge as a single thought occurred to her. There was one way to escape. She could end it all; snuff out the problem that was her. Besides, help wouldn't come. There was no one to rescue her. The chances that her aunt, at least, survived were slim to none. She was alone, defenseless, and forsaken. There was nothing else but to-.

She thrust the rock's edge into the top of her right thigh and almost squealed in pain. Her mind suddenly cleared and her thoughts settled into something more rational. Physical pain, it seemed, was the only protection against the visions.

Vaguely, she wondered if they were going to feed her as she positioned herself against the pillar she sat against the day before. Belle shivered as a draft of cold air blew across her sweat soaked skin. Could escape be possible? She had a weapon. But no, even if she could over power her guards there was no conceivable way for her to get out in her condition. In any case, she would immediately try to rescue her uncle the moment she was free and the likelihood of him being in a condition to flee was slim to none. In all honesty, she doubted that he was still alive. The Knight Elves had tried to use him to get to her and the plan failed.

This was their plan B; driving her to madness. They were mistaken if they thought that it would work.

The door opened and Bellethiel heard footsteps enter the room. She did not stir one muscle or even acknowledge the entrance of one of her captors. Something clattered against the ground and she wondered if that was food and water. She still didn't move to find out.

"Your powers of self-restraint are impressive," complimented a feminine voice from above her.

She remained stoned-face. The elleth above her laughed.

"Resourceful, even. It will only prolong the effect of the spell. Of course," and here Belle felt a hand grab her chin and force her head upward, "you could simply give in and it will all be over. You are a tainted bitch, a daughter of forest wanderers and traders. Your father was a wild one with no respect for your mother's kind. The Ylearan are no better! Lord Lanyar and Lord Vanyo have been forced to take action and the Knight Elves are at his service. We will purify the royal line."

Belle spat in what she hoped was the elleth's face and pressed her back against the pillar she was leaning against the moment her captor let go.

"Since when do Knight Elves care about purifying the royal line?" she snapped.

The elleth she couldn't see let out a sound of disgust and then chuckled darkly.

"What better way to ruin the royal line than have the princess and her descendents marry from families that wish to pledge themselves to the Evil One?" she asked in a sticky-sweet voice.

Bellethiel smirked, "You will not break me and I will marry no Knight Elf."

There was a high-pitched laugh of sarcasm and the elleth replied, "Yes, we know. You seem to have a taste for Sons of Adam."

Belle's heart pounded in her chest as another reminder of her obvious infatuation with Qui-Gon was mentioned by her enemies again. Surely, they understood the fact that she could never marry a Jedi even if the regard was mutual?

"At least this Son of Adam is honorable," Bellethiel muttered under her breath.

Her cheek stung in the wake of her captor's slap.

* * *

Sila was in the lead followed closely by Qui-Gon while the others took up the rear. The wolf proved to be a competent tracker and for that the group was grateful. Qui-Gon, though, felt restless. The going was too slow.

The problem, he decided, was the fact that they had to tread carefully. Only Maf knew anything about the Deep Woods and the other three were only there for their battle prowess than anything else. Qui-Gon played a larger role mostly because he was Bellethiel's protector, but Maf and Sila were the means that would get them there.

A day had already passed with them only acquiring a few measly hours of sleep during the wee hours of the morning. They made progress, he had to admit; they were well within the thick groves of the Deep Woods. He wished for a speeder or a ship or something that was fast. There were reasons why they avoided the use of technology. With magic available to the races of Illearia, the possibility of their transportation vehicles being easily subdued were increased. Since they were dealing with a race whose hearing was amplified to naturally pick out sounds from miles around, going on foot was the second best policy.

It didn't mean he had to like it.

"We must stop for the night," announced Maf to Qui-Gon's silent irritation.

The Jedi Master ceased his trek through the undergrowth after releasing a soft whistle allowing him to communicate the direct demand to Sila. It had been his idea to teach her command signals. Bellethiel had gone along with the idea enthusiastically after he suggested it.

The pang of fear that accompanied every thought of Belle seared through him like a raging fire. He closed his eyes, embraced it, and let it go. The mental act did little to help his disposition and he wished that it would. He needed to be calmer and more collected. In all honesty, he needed to continue traveling.

He lay against a sycamore tree with Sila curled up beside him while Maf proceeded to erect wards around their campsite. Light craft, apparently, was poison to servants of the dark, as Earmiriel called them, and was a most affective defense against their legions.

"You, Master Jedi, look about ready to collapse, though I am certain that you, yourself, do not believe so," came the cracked, elderly, voice of Maf from above.

Qui-Gon glanced up at him and nodded in his direction to show acknowledgement before turning away to gaze back out into the gloom. The wizard sat beside him and offered him elven traveling bread and a few sticks of jerky. The Jedi barely spared a look at the old man's hand.

"Eat my boy, save your strength for when we find her. You will have need of it," insisted Maf.

Qui-Gon took the food after a moment's hesitation and began nibbling on the elven bread. He heard a loud exasperated exhale of breath from beside him and knew that there was most likely going to be another lecture about something. The elders of the elven race seemed to enjoy telling him what he was doing wrong.

"It serves no one well to worry about them. If you are weak from hunger in the hour we find them, rescuing them will be impossible," lectured the wizard sternly.

Qui-Gon saw the wisdom of Maf's words, he really did. His appetite simply was not there.

"You are conflicted," observed Maf after a few moments of silence.

Qui-Gon nodded but continued with his silence. Nibbling the bread was a good excuse to keep it. He had no desire to attempt to explain his position.

"Am I right in surmising that this conflict has everything to do with our abducted princess?" asked Maf innocently.

He nodded again. This time Maf waited for him to say something. Qui-Gon knew the trick well; he used it on Obi-Wan when he knew his apprentice was troubled about something.

"I feel that every moment we waist is a moment where her enemies are closer to either braking or killing her," muttered Qui-Gon.

He heard the wizard grunt to affirm that he had heard the Jedi's thoughts and was thinking of the best way to reply.

"And, what is it that you wish to happen of the two?" he asked.

"Neither."

"And if neither is not an option?"

Qui-Gon remained silent as he allowed the question to hang in the air. Even he wasn't certain. His feelings, finally forced to come to the light, were still raw and all he seemed the be able to feel was anguish, anger, and self-hatred. All of the things that he knew, as a Jedi, he shouldn't have felt. Maf wasn't helping by forcing him to face possibilities. He hated possibilities. As someone who preferred to live in the moment, possibilities were practically taboo to his very personality.

"I can't say. I fear that I will become something that I do not recognize if something were to happen to her. I fear that I may lose myself to the darkside," Qui-Gon finally replied.

Maf let out a snort and caused the younger man to look sharply at him. Qui-Gon felt slightly miffed at the old wizard's reaction. Him falling to the dark side of the force was no matter for amusement.

"Well, if that is your main concern than I have the secret to your ultimate salvation!" and the perturbed Jedi found one of Maf's hands clasped onto his shoulder.

"Which is?" asked Qui-Gon with no amount of sarcasm.

"I find it is a simple remedy. Do not fall to the dark side."

Silence descended between them as Qui-Gon openly gaped at the man before him. Obviously, Maf didn't know what he was talking about! The wizard saw everything in black and white! His solutions were simplistic and childish at best! There was no possible way for such a seemingly simplistic answer to really be his so-called "ultimate salvation". What made it worse for him was the fact that, at that moment, the old coot was grinning at him.

"Spare me from the ignorance of Jedi!" muttered Maf under his breath and leaving Qui-Gon slightly more offended than he originally was, "Your greatest downfall is that you constantly try to find the most complicated solutions to the most simplistic of problems. All shades of grey for you, is it not? And I obviously cannot know what I am talking about since I'm not connected to the Force. You were thinking that, weren't you?"

Qui-Gon, suddenly very much humbled, nodded his head while feeling completely dumbfounded. Maf's humor faded and his tone turned to a more compassionate, but still slightly chiding, air.

"I have been alive for many years, my boy. I have seen the stars. I have been the architect behind civilizations' rise and fall. I am the son of an elleth who was there when darkness descended in the universe and wars, greater than any you have ever known, wasted the entire Cosmos to ruin. I forged a great sword to be wielded by kings. I watched the King of All go to the grave and return from it. I have known the mortal condition, the elven condition and the basic nature of all who live in this galaxy. There is one conclusion that I, and others, could come to. People are basically evil and full of grey areas in response to how far they are willing to descend to that evil. Concepts like right and wrong; good and evil, on the other hand are not relative. There are absolutes as sure as our sun rises in the east and sets in the west. You, my boy, are not one to easily fall, but when you do, it is because you have allowed your pent-up emotions and your lack of foresight to cloud your judgment and turn you into what my mother would call a selfish bastard. I am pleased that you wish to avoid this, truly, so I have given the solution to you as plain as day. Your choices define your course in life. You can either choose to turn into a psychopath or you can choose to stand firm in the light," and at the end of this monologue, Qui-Gon was awed.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that the elves and witches and wizards lived several eons longer than he ever would.

"What should I do, then, if she is broken? How can I help her?" he asked.

Maf chuckled, "Now, while that is something I am certain her highness would rather die than to allow happen to her, I do believe that this answer is simple as well. Do you love her? Truly?"

Taken aback by the question, the answer escaped his lips before he could stop to ponder it, "Yes."

"Well then, there is your answer. You never abandon those you love no matter the degree. And with that, I believe giving you this bit to think about will be the perfect solution to your problem," Maf stood but not before giving Qui-Gon a companionable pat on the back, "now, get some rest. You have a long day ahead of you. Be at peace, my friend."

Qui-Gon did not feel better, naturally, but he felt more at ease with one aspect of the situation. He also made an epiphany. He was in love with Belle and that love was a deep one. This meant that situations like these were bound to arise all of the time. With that in mind, he fell into a slightly enlightened slumber.

* * *

Bellethiel was in trouble. One of the Knight elves attending to her minimal daily needs had startled her eyes open thus enabling the spell to fully take effect. She felt some consolation in this turn of events. She had delayed the inevitable for at least three days. Sadly, such a factor probably contributed to them needing to force her eyes open.

Her body was in pain. Throughout the course of the week visions of her family and friends plagued her sight and each time she felt her mind begin to give in to the lies the jagged rock's point pierced her skin. Sometimes, all it took was for her to move and pain would bring her back to the reality of the dark, musty cell. She never cried. She refused to allow herself to, but her resolve was slowly becoming harder to keep with each passing day.

Huddled against the wall furthest away from the door, Bellethiel considered her options. How much could she withstand and how much of her mind was already lost? Despite the onslaught of deceitful visions her mind was clear. She was also in constant pain thanks to her efforts to keep her sanity. The problem was that things were beginning to get muddled mostly from lack of sleep. Ever since she opened her eyes sleep became an impossibility. She was tired, she was weak, she was in pain. She wanted to go home.

"_My lady,"_ came a familiar bass voice.

Her head shot upright from where it had rested in her arms above her knees. That was Qui-Gon! Or was it? She hesitated as her heart pounded in her chest. Her eyes narrowed in on a figure laying prone on the dark stone floor. A frown marred her lips and the hand holding the stone clenched. How much did she want to bet that this was another vision? Everything.

With this particular vision, it began with his voice echoing in her ears about every fear, guilt, and hurt she experienced while locked in the watchtower of the Knight Elves.

"_You killed Obi-Wan" _was the most heart wrenching one. Others phrases about herself were meaningless, but the ones where he accused her of being personally responsible for the fates of others cut deeper than she wanted to admit.

Then there were the memory visions tweeked to accommodate her personal fears. Qui-Gon's corpse was a frequent visitor. She resisted, she held firm. She continued to remind herself that these visions were lies.

Twenty more wounds were added to her collection that night.

* * *

The tower was located at the edge of the southern marshes. The company stood a mile away at the peak of the downward slope into below sea level marshlands. Qui-Gon frowned at the area around the watchtower. There seemed to be only one way to enter and that was the large main gates facing the fringe of the deep woods. Everything east, west and south were all swamps and mist. If he could feel through the Force it wouldn't be as much of a problem for him, but with his handicap, the idea of navigating the misty marshes had little appeal. The others noted this problem as well and Maf was sounding off options the group could take.

"Their dungeons would be located nearer the top of the building. We will have to slowly break off and allow our Jedi the time he needs to find the princess and bring her out of whatever cell they have her in," brainstormed the wizard to the grim audience.

"I think our biggest concern lies with whether or not we can actually get in," mused Tholim.

Earmiriel seemed to have formed her own plan and finally entered it to the growing pool of possibilities, "We could split into two groups. One that slips in through the front gates and another that takes the path of the marshes. There should be a secret entrance to the west of here if what the map says is true."

Qui-Gon nodded. The plan was a sound one, but there was still one issue that he had with it.

"I cannot navigate through the marshlands and I am assuming that, since rescuing the princess is my main concern storming through the main entrance is out of the question," reminded the Jedi to his co-conspirators.

Maf smiled at that, "You have Sila who can navigate and I believe that I can get you through the short trek in the marshlands to this hidden entrance."

Throlim looked pleased with that plan and added, "My sister and myself can breech the front gates with our brand of lightcraft. This should distract the enemy and allow you to slip in unnoticed."

Qui-Gon couldn't help but be impressed. He chose his comrades well, it seemed.

"Sila will give the signal once Maf and I locate the entrance. That should give the two of you enough time to prepare," suggested the Jedi master.

Brother and sister exchanged identical amused glances before grinning at the two men with mischievous glints in their eyes. Qui-Gon was completely in the dark about what the two were planning, but it seemed Maf had a bit more knowledge of the sibling's abilities. In fact, if Qui-Gon didn't know better, he'd say that the old wizard looked rather exasperated.

"Do not tell me, for you know I will not approve," growled the Grey Wizard.

"No fear," chirped Earmiriel.

With that, the Trysh heirs slipped into the forest like wraiths fading into shadow. Qui-Gon glanced at his friend with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you know what they're planning" he inquired.

Mafortion nodded and let out a long, drawn out, sigh, "There is a version of lightcraft stemmed from those elves who specialize in the earth element that can form semi-solid corporeal copies of various life forms. Their mother lived among the Ylearan elves for a time and learned this ability from them. Those two are known for their mastery of this craft."

"Is that what they plan to do?"

Maf snorted, "Probably, knowing them. Now, give Sila the scent to follow and we'll be on our way."

Qui-Gon nodded and knelt down beside the black wolf to give the wolf instructions.

During the training process for Sila, Qui-Gon had taken the time to attempt to learn elvish from Bellethiel when it became apparent that the only other person the wolf was comfortable around was him. Elvish was a universal language for the entire planet. The animals of Illearia seemed to be able to understand it in the most basic of senses. Bellethiel had been urging him to try to learn at least a few basic phrases before her name-day celebration. When Sila came along, Qui-Gon finally gave in and made the attempt.

The language was a difficult one to learn. It was nothing like common tongue or the few other Republic languages he at least understood. Elvish could be understood in a loose sense by everyone. To speak it was another matter entirely.

Elvish was poetic and it sometimes took a long time to finish a sentence. It took at least a minute for Qui-Gon to convey to the shadow wolf what he wanted her to understand. Sila responded by slinking off into the remaining forest fringe.

Maf tapped his staff and created a small lantern at the tip before following the wolf in her tracks. Qui-Gon trailed after them not far behind.

The going was slow since Sila had to stop to rediscover the scent she had originally picked before going on. Maf had his map out muttering to himself and somehow avoiding the dangers of the path. The Jedi Master followed closely behind him sure to not miss a single step the wizard made.

The snaking tendrils of concern slithered slowly into his consciousness as thoughts of Bellethiel's current state began to nag at him. How badly was she hurt? What were they doing to her? Was Lorn with her and was he being tortured in front of her? Had the Knight Elves broken her yet?

He was frustrated with the fact that he couldn't feel her through the Force. For all he knew, she was dead. The thought wasn't less than frightening. Was there a way he could reach out and discover her well-being?

He had a knack for knowing when she was near as she did him. He wondered if he could feed off of that feeling and have it manifest into some sort of connection. Would it be possible?

While he was considering this, Qui-Gon nearly ran into Maf when the wizard stopped in his trek. The Jedi glanced up at the tall old man and then lowered his eyes to the form of Sila who seemed to be looking for the scent again. No, she wasn't searching for the scent. She was looking for something. The way she carefully placed her front paws in certain places made that certain.

Maf glanced at his map again and then nodded before declaring, "This is the place."

He stepped forward and bent to inspect a large rock on the side of a muddy pond. After lowering the light created from his staff to the stone the wizard laughed and tapped the top of the rock. The waters of the pond receded and a stair case was revealed. The pungent odor of stinking vegetation decay met their nostrils and both males covered their noses with their hands. Sila merely sneezed.

"Makes me wonder what the watchtower will smell like," remarked Qui-Gon dryly.

Maf chuckled, "Nothing pleasant I can assure you."

Qui-Gon instructed Sila to let out three long howls into the growing darkness of night. Her animalistic song pierced the silence of the marsh lands and caused a few birds to launch themselves into the air. When the howls died down the three waited for any sort of sound to indicate to them that their comrades heard.

After a few moments, shouts of alarm coming from the distance met their ears and Maf nodded to Qui-Gon who, in turn, instructed Sila to enter the passage first. The wolf complied and the two followed silently after.

* * *

Bellethiel was not in a good mood. She was tired. She was in pain. She was constantly visited with several visions of Qui-Gon. The damned creature, wherever it was, seemed to have found her greatest weakness. When her mind wasn't close to becoming swayed by the visions, she sat with a fresh wound somewhere on her body glaring at the ceiling. Anger, it seemed, kept the thing at bay for a while. She figured that it couldn't do much with anger, only fear. This was a good thing she supposed, but sooner or later the thing always seemed to break through. Some people simply weren't capable of total and complete anger at all hours of the day and Belle happened to be one of them.

She sighed and attempted to wipe the new blood on her left arm off on the edge of her dirty, ragged, tunic. She frowned when it didn't seem to come off as easily as it had been earlier. It only told her that time was slowly ebbing. Sooner or later drastic measures would have to be taken.

Her eyes settled on the jagged rock in her hand turned red with consistent use. She winced. This wasn't looking good.

A sound, not faint but loud, so loud that it had to be real, met her ears. Startled, she straightened slightly and attempted to listen. Was that an attack? She couldn't be certain. Not up in this tower where the spell raged.

When the sound came again and the room shook, Bellethiel knew that she wasn't dreaming this. Her enemies were under attack. She smiled and laughed, even while the creature renewed its attacks with aggression.

* * *

When they exited the cellars of the tower and made it, finally, into the main building, Qui-Gon could tell that the Tyrsh siblings had done their work. The entrance was completely gone and various bodies were strewn among piles of dirt and mud slowly reshaping itself into whatever forms Throlim and Earmiriel had conjured.

Maf chuckled as he looked off into the distance.

"Well, seems as though they have succeeded. Come along, my boy. Lorn and Bellethiel await!" and the old man dashed up the staircase closely followed by Sila and Qui-Gon.

The sad thing about this particular tower, was the fact that it was much larger than most and, therefore, harbored the greatest amount of enemies they could face. While Earmiriel and Throlim distracted the brunt of the force, Maf and Qui-Gon were still faced with the back guard. One of the things the Jedi Master learned about fighting Knight Elves was this: Ataru form was pointless when actually trying to hit them. He was still a Jedi master, though, so his knowledge of the other forms were enough to compensate and he switched to a more precise and accurate form.

It was their armor, mostly, Maf had warned him about the combination of dragon scales, bone, and elven metal, but Qui-Gon had never quite believed him until that moment. If this was what Obi-Wan had faced in the forest, he could certainly understand why his injuries were so severe.

Sila became a valuable asset to their attack. The black wolf blended in with the darkly lit walls and loomed in the shadows of their opponents. The Knight Elves found that swords and armor did little to counterattack a raging, large, wolf they couldn't see until it was too late. Bellethiel had certainly trained her well.

"Where will the princess be held?" asked Qui-Gon.

Maf grunted as he brought his fiery lit staff around into the face of a dark skinned (as black as night), red haired, Knight Elf. Qui-Gon whirled and blocked the attack of another attacker, this one with white skin and the same red hair.

"Can't say! There is vile sorcery at work in the uppermost region of this place, but I cannot tell if she is there or not!" came Maf's answer.

Qui-Gon lopped off his current assailant's head and turned to face the one coming up next to him only to find this one, female, meeting her end by Sila's jaws.

They were alone for the moment.

"I will look for Lorn in the dungeons. That is where I know he will be kept if he is still alive. Look to the top of the tower. Whether she is there or not, I do not know, but it will not hurt to check," ordered Maf.

Qui-Gon simply nodded and the two of them raced up one flight before the wizard branched off through a door into one of the holding cell units. With Sila running beside him, the Jedi continued his ascent.

Knight Elves soon became scarce and he vaguely wondered why that was. Surely if the princess was at the top of the tower they would be sure to place guards there? A growing fear welled inside of him that he fought to still. He couldn't give in to his fear now, not at this moment. There would be time enough for dark emotions later when the whole business ended.

The further he ascended, the more the tower stank of rot and decay, signaling to him that the residents rarely ventured up here. His lightsaber glowed eerily in the rising gloom with each step. Sila was in front of him, now, sniffing the air and ground and letting out short noises he interpreted as whines. What did the wolf smell?

Sila suddenly stopped her ascent and let out a low growl, hackles raised. Qui-Gon, confused, ventured upward a bit more before coming to an abrupt stop. He had to. The presence they were nearing was hair raising. His lungs constricted painfully, muscles clenched and his bod shook. Everything tightened and weakened simultaneously. He finally let out a gasp of air and breathed in almost forcibly. Whatever was up there, his body was not too keen on meeting.

"Sila, lets go," he muttered.

The wolf growled again before continuing with him. Qui-Gon decided, after observing her for a minute, that she was stalking. If the princess was here, if Belle was here, then was this thing guarding or attacking her? Or both? He wasn't sure. Sila certainly didn't like it.

When they reached the top of the tower Qui-Gon was met with a solid oak door, newer than most of the walls around it, with several intricate patterns drawn on it. He narrowed his eyes. Alchemists, he knew, used patterns and circles to contain what they called their transmutations. He lived among the elves long enough to become familiar with the alchemic symbols. This was not one, he knew. The design, the pattern, it was all wrong. Even the language used to define whatever its purpose was felt sinister.

Sila growled. It was a growl different than the warning growl of danger. This growl was far deeper and much more menacing. Qui-Gon recognized that growl. He heard it once before and knew what it meant.

With mounting certainty, Qui-Gon inspected the door, design and all, from a few feet away. The force would be useless here with the state the door was in. It wouldn't recognize its existence.

There was something he could try, however. Maf had explained to him once that all who could use the force who were human had a semblance of elven blood flowing through their veins. If that was true then there was one thing he could try. He had touched it once or twice during the past five months but always during his meditation sessions. If it could be used now then…

He closed his eyes and let go of the force. Almost completely disconnected from it he felt the dormant power resting within him. He imagined a door. Behind that door was the power and his hand was one the latch. With a flick of his mental wrist, the door opened and the power came out.

It didn't wash through him, flow continuously connecting him to all life like the force. Instead, it filled him. The power was steady, strong, confident, and looming. At that moment Qui-Gon felt something incredibly odd, at least to him. With the Force, he had always felt life, or at least he seemed to. With this power, he felt the ages. It occurred to him only a minute after letting this power momentarily take over that what he felt was the stone beneath his feet and above his head and around him. He felt the swamp, the land, ever changing and full of elvish will. It didn't flow through him, it was him.

Was this what Belle felt all the time whenever she used the earth element?

When he finally came to terms with the new sensations he opened his eyes from his meditation and focused all thought on the door. He concentrated and willed. The door shuddered, splintered, and slowly began to crumble into dust until a gaping hole remained. The power that anchored the creature to this world faded and the presence, the demon as Maf called them once, left.

The power receded back behind the door, but said door remained ajar. Qui-Gon wasn't surprised. This particular door stopped something that was a part of him from coming out. Now that he had let it, the power would be easier to access once again should his ability to use the force ever be impaired. With this in mind, he entered the room with his lightsaber raised. Sila slipped past him and towards a figure huddled on the ground against the wall farthest from the door. He followed behind her and the green light of his lightsaber fell on the huddled person three feet away.

It was Bellethiel.

A strangled sound escaped his mouth, something between a sob and an attempt to utter her name. She was covered in wounds, blood, and filth. A jagged rock was clutched in her hand covered in her blood. Qui-Gon let out an unsteady breath.

"Who are you?" asked Belle.

Her eyes, he could see, were closed and her jaw was clenched.

"Me," he said barely able to manage that.

And her teal eyes shot open and gazed up at him in wonder. Sila nudged one of Belle's shoulders gently. The rock dropped to the floor with a clatter.

"You're really here? I'm not imagining this?" she asked.

He powered down his saber and knelt beside her. He cupped her cheek with a free hand and smiled.

"I'm here."

And her arms latched around his neck.

* * *

She was sleeping in his arms by the time they met up with Maf. From the look on the old wizard's face and the wrapped bundle in his arms, Qui-Gon surmised that Lorn had not made it through his captivity.

"He died a few minutes ago," informed the wizard gruffly.

Qui-Gon nodded and said, "Bellethiel is alive, but she needs medical attention immediately."

Maf nodded and the two descended to the ground floor with Sila in tow.

The way was quiet. No signs of life filtered in till they entered the ground floor and left through the gaping hole where the doors once stood. Earmiriel and Throlim stood on the high ground away from the carnage. Qui-Gon nodded to them when he, Maf, and Sila reached them. There were no words. They simply returned the nod. With that, the group left into the shadows to return to the capital.

**_To Be Continued..._**


End file.
