Saga The Seduction of Lilothie - Clone Wars/Moulin Rouge cross over - Song-fic, one-post - fluff

Title: The Seduction of Lilothie
Author: ardavenport
Timeframe: Saga, during the Clone Wars
Genre: Crossover/Moulin Rouge, Song-Fic, total fluff
Characters: Senator (Padme) Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, OC Jedi
Keywords: Padme, Amidala, Anakin, Obi-Wan, singing, Moulin Rouge
Summary: Anakin and Padme see that General Kenobi has hidden talents
Note: This is total fanfic fluff. Very unrealistic and amusing and always pops into my head when I play the Ewan McGregor songs on the Moulin Rouge CD. So, I thought I'd write it down. But it's still more realistic than bringing Darth Maul back to life, IMHO. So there.
Note: And typo is my middle name, with missing words and errors that spell checkers do not catch being my specialty - if you see any, just post a reply or send a PM with the what and where and I will kill them with no mercy.
Disclaimer: All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to Disney and Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.


The audience below was restless in the darkness. In a private box, seated next to Senator Amidala, Anakin Skywalker fidgeted, scanning the crowd, sneering, curling his lip, alternating between making a fist and laying his hands flat on his legs. Padmé wondered where all that meditation and Jedi training went to sometimes.

"Relax, Anakin," she advised in a hushed voice.

"How can I?" He looked away and then back at her. "I don't even know what I'm doing here," he whispered fiercely. "I should be with my troops, not sitting here watching a show."

Padmé's hand slipped across to cover his. "It's not all that bad, I hope."

His hand closed over hers, his lips curling into a warm smile. He leaned his head toward hers. But he had to dodge his head to the side to avoid the spikes of her bronze, onyx and blue headdress that went with her maroon and metallic blue gown, the expected regalia of a Galactic Republic senator attending a diplomatic function.

"I guess it's not all bad," he admitted in a low husky voice.

For a tantalizing moment she thought he would risk the hazards of her headdress to steal a kiss. And she knew she would not want to stop. Licking her lips, she pulled back a little.

"We can't." Her eyes flicked toward the enormous theater, the stage, the other private boxes of dignitaries. "Not here."

His eyes stayed locked on hers.

She pulled back a little more. "Anakin . . . "

His eyes closing, he let out a sigh. Backing off, he fell back into the cushion of his high backed seat. Folding his arms before him he leaned to the side, conversationally closer to her only. "What's next?"

Tapping the program screen on the armrest between them, she called up the pale holo description of the next performance. "Oh."

Anakin straightened in his seat. "Is this the one?"

She nodded.

"What's it called?"

She read the description. "'The Seduction of Lilothie', an ancient traditional Moulaniru tale of the ecstasy of love between two souls from tragically clashing castes, a bonded woman and the young dreamer who woos her."

Anakin did not sound impressed. "We came all the way here for this?"

Padmé gave him a little smile. "This is important to them. The whole Union celebrates this festival and twenty local cycles ago two off-worlders from the Republic won the performance competition and then disappeared. Minister Aklemos thinks that if they reprise their performance on this anniversary that will strongly influence public opinion in favor of the Union systems siding with the Republic against the Separatists."

"I don't know why this has to be so important. All they have to do is see what happens to the worlds that Dooku and Grevious occupy if they're having trouble choosing sides."

She smiled. "Public opinion can be more sentimental than sensible." She shrugged as much as the stiff, padded shoulders of her over-dress would allow. "And this is diplomacy. Every little bit counts."

"Well, if these mystery people haven't performed in twenty years, what'll happen to your diplomacy if they're not any good anymore."

"Obi-Wan said they would be fine and they'd be here."

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin turned toward her. "When did you talk to Obi-Wan?"

"Just before I left Coruscant. Some of the Jedi Council briefed us on it at the last minute. Apparently they had something to do with the performers disappearing. It's supposed to be sensitive. I'm not even sure the Chancellor knows about it; it was long before his time. I thought the Council might have told you more about it." They had arrived in separate ships and immediately attended a reception prior to attending the climactic winning performances of the festival. This was the first private time they had together. Except for the two Naboo body guards seated above and behind them, plus C-3PO and R2D2 standing in back.

Anakin frowned, his face sullen. "You know more than I do. I didn't ever know he was on Coruscant. He's supposed to be back with the Fleet."

The lights in the hall got fractionally darker and the audience stilled. The stage was curtained, long heavy drapes, black and speckled with swirling glittering star patterns. A blue haze emanated from the seats below as the program-holos brightened with a silent announcement of the reprise performance of 'The Seduction of Lilothie' by Ariatna Gil (Lilothie) and Sebamus Criot (Flark).

Parting, the curtains revealed a black stage with the shadowed outline of a wide blocky object in the center and two figures, one very tall and slender, the other much shorter, standing on one side.

The lights came up.

FLARK: Love is a many splendored thing. Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love.

Padmé gasped. She glanced down at the names again on the program-holo, which was now helpfully scrolling through the words. The name of the man was still Sebamus Criot, but he was unmistakable, even with no beard, his hair cut short and a few shades lightened. And wearing a green suit trimmed in pale blue at the cuffs, high collar and down the pant legs.

It was Obi-Wan. General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

LILOTHIE: Please, don't start that again.

"Flark's" partner turned away from him, her head down. She wore a white, flowing dress, slit up the sides with silver chains holding the edges together. Gleaming silver bands covered her wrists, ankles and neck. They might have been jewelry, but they could just as easily have been restraints.

FLARK: All you need is love.

Mouth open, Padmé could hardly believe what she was hearing. He was singing.

LILOTHIE: A girl has got to eat.

FLARK: All you need is love.

She turned, walking away, trying to get away from him, but he pursued her.

LILOTHIE: Or she'll end up on the street.

FLARK: All you need is looooo-oooove.

He added a little rise and fall to the 'looooo-oooove'. Obi-Wan/ Sebamus had a very pleasant voice. She turned around, stopping him. They were both now center stage, in front of a huge bed with a bright yellow covering, tall headboard in back and footboard in front wide enough to sit on like a bench.

LILOTHIE: Love is just a game.

She, Ariatna Gil (or whatever her name really was) also had a very pleasant voice. But the height difference between Lilothie and Flark was ridiculous. The top of Flark's head barely reached the underside of her small breasts. She looked Human but possibly had some other species ancestry, she was so tall and thin, her short hair dark and flat against her pale skin. Her facial features were long and naturally made her face look sad.

Quick music started as Flark hustled around her, cutting off her escape.

FLARK: I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for lovin' me.

LILOTHIE: The only way of lovin' me, baby, is to pay a lovely fee.

She held up her long arms, palms out to keep him from getting close. And while he did not approach he was undeterred, his face upturned to her with a big happy, imploring smile, as if he was looking up at the sun.

FLARK: Just one night, just one night.

LILOTHIE: There's no way, 'cause you can't pay.

FLARK: In the naaaaaame of love, one night in the name of looo-oove.

They did not seem to be singing one coherent song, like an opera, but the music followed the words perfectly and it all seemed to go together.

LILOTHIE: You craaaazy fool, I won't give in to you.

She turned away again, but he darted forward and grabbed one of her hands.

FLARK: Don't . . . . leave me this way, I can't survive without your sweet love, oh baby, don't leave me this way.

Staring down at her captured hand, she put the other to her face; she did not pull away from him.

LILOTHIE: You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs.

He grinned back up at her.

FLARK: I look around me and I see it isn't so, oh no.

She lowered her hand to very lightly touch his hair.

LILOTHIE: Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs.

FLARK: Well, what's wrong with that, I'd like to know, 'cause here I go - - - he suddenly swung her around dragging her toward the bed where he leaped up onto the footboard so that he was eye level with her; the music swelled - - agaaa-aaaaaain, Love lifts us up where we belong, where eeeeagles fly on a moooountain high.

LILOTHIE: Love makes us act like we are fools, throw our liiiives away for one happy day.

Tearing her hand away from him, she strode forward on the stage.

FLARK: We could be heee-eee-eeros, just for one day.

Carefree, he spread his arms wide and then jumped down, going after her. She shook her head, gazing down at him.

LILOTHIE: You, you will be mean.

FLARK: No, I won't.

He denied her prediction with a playful bounce and laugh and a big grin, so utterly unlike the serious Jedi Master and military general she knew, that Padmé wondered if it was really possible that this performer was just someone who looked and sounded exactly like Obi-Wan Kenobi. Even when she first met him as Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan (before he grew his beard) he was serious, only occasionally smiling in a friendly, formal and polite way. Had she ever heard him laugh before? She could not remember.

Padmé stole a glance toward Anakin whose wide eyes were fixed on the stage, his mouth open in even more shock than she.

LILOTHIE: And I, I'll drink all the time.

Lilothie spoke doubtfully. He was getting to her.

FLARK: We should be loooo-veeeeerrrs.

He spread his arms wide as he sang his declaration, offering himself to her, the music rising again. She shook her head weakly.

LILOTHIE: We can't do that.

FLARK: We should be loooo-ooooo-veeerrrs, and that's a fact.

He seized her hand again and this time she laid her other hand over his.

LILOTHIE: Though nothing will keep us together.

He started slowly pulling her back toward the bed as he sang.

FLARK: We could steal time - -

He hopped back up onto the foot of the bed again as they started singing together.

LILOTHIE/FLARK: Just for one day.
We could be heroes forever and ever.
We could be heroes forever and ever.
We could be herooooooes - -

Suddenly, he clasped her hands in his, pulling her down to sit at the foot of the bed with him.

FLARK: Just because IIIIIIII-IIII-IIII will always love you.

LILOTHIE: IIIIIIIII-III-IIIII - - -

They drew closer, hands clasped tightly between them.

LILOTHIE/FLARK: Can't help loving.

FLARK: Yooooouuu.

LILOTHIE: How wonderful life is,

LILOTHIE/FLARK: Now you're in the woooooooooorld.

The music finished grandly as they kissed and the lights went down.

The crowd burst into applause, loud and long, first a few, then everyone standing. Padmé remembered to applaud as well, but Anakin just sat forward in his seat, staring intently at the barely visible black-on-black shapes still in the center of the stage.

"Anakin . . . . Anakin." She finally got his attention and he made a half-hearted show of applauding. A grin formed on her own lips. "What did we just see?" She thought about that kiss that she had denied him.

Shaking his head, Anakin still looked toward the dark stage as if the secret lay there. "I have no idea."

"I didn't know Obi-Wan could sing. I didn't know anything like that was part of Jedi training."

The flirtation in her voice went completely past him. "It wasn't part of my training, I can tell you that." He kept looking at the stage.

"Who is she? Anakin?"

"Hunh?" He finally looked back at her. "Oh, um, I think her name is Mira, Mirell, something like that."

"She's a Jedi?" Padmé guessed. "Do you know her?"

"Uh, yeah, I mean, no. I mean, she's a Jedi, but I don't really know her. I've seen her in the Temple, but not for a long time. She doesn't command any front line troops in the war," he finished more definitely.

"Well, she must know Obi-Wan."

He vaguely nodded agreement. "Yeah. I guess that's where I've seen her, talking to Obi-Wan. But that a long time ago, before the Clone Wars started."

"But you don't know her?"

"I don't know every Jedi in the Temple," his tone rose a little defensively. "Go ask Obi-Wan if you want to know who his girlfriend is."

"I didn't mean - - " The flicker of the holo-program interrupted them. She read the new script. "There's an encore." The audience appreciation below lessened and then faded to silence. After several long seconds of total quiet the lights went up again on center state. Lilothie and Flark were under the yellow blanket, together in the bed. Flark stirred, threw the cover back and sat up as the music started again.

FLARK: Never knew I could feel like this.

He stretched his expression blissful.

FLARK: Like I've never seen the sky before.

With an adoring look toward Lilothie, stull under the yellow cover, he swung his legs off the bed.

FLARK: Want to vanish inside your kiss.
Everyday I love you more and more.

He stood, his hand on his chest, slowly strolling forward.

FLARK: Listen to my heaaa-aaart, can you heee-eeear it sings
Telling me to giii-iiive you eeeeeeverything.
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you, until the end of time.

Having gotten over the shock, Padmé really listened to the music this time. The song was lovely, Obi-Wan's voice strong and beautiful. And as she listened to the words she felt how much they matched what she had felt on her wedding night. With Anakin.

Lilothie stirred, sitting up as Flark's voice rose in his joyous declaration.

FLARK: Coooooome whaaaat maaaaaaaay
Coooooome whaaaat maaaa-aaaay
IIIIIIIII will love yoooou until my dyy-yyying daaaa-aaaaay.

Rising from the bed, she joined his song with the same look of adoration. But with her so much longer legs, she reached the end of the bed more quickly as she joined him, their voices complimenting each other when they sang together.

LILOTHIE: Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place.
Suddenly it moves with such a peeerfect grace.

LILOTHIE /FLARK: Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste.

LILOTHIE: It all revolves around you.

They clasped hands, singing together, slowly walking forward as if presenting their glorious love to the world.

LILOTHIE/FLARK: And there's no mountain too high
No riiiiiiiiver too wide.
Sing out this song and I'll be theeeeeere by your siiiide.
Storm clouds may gather
And staaaaars may collide.

He embraced her, arms tightly around her lower back, chest pressed to her lower body, eyes pointed skyward to hers. Clearly there was no mountain too high for him to climb.

FLARK: But I love you - -

She stroked the top of his head tenderly.

LILOTHIE: I love you - -

LILOTHIE/FLARK: Until the end of time.

They separated, their hands still clasped and strolled back toward the bed, still singing together.

LILOTHIE/FLARK: Cooooooome whaaaaat maaaaaaay
Cooooooome whaaaaaat maaaaaaaay
IIIIIIIIII will love you, until my dyyy-yyyiiiiing day.

With her giving him a little boost this time, he hopped back onto the foot of the bed and they embraced again. Now his lower body was pressed just below her breasts and Padmé blushed because she and Anakin had tried that in their own bed with very satisfactory results. But their times together were so few; Anakin was always gone to war. Suddenly, she desperately wanted that kiss, wanted to rest her head on his shoulder, feel his hands on her. But even without the hazard of her formal headdress that made that impossible, their cushioned chairs were too far apart, the wide armrest separating them almost as well as a fence.

LILOTHIE/FLARK: Oh, cooooooome whaaaaaat maaaa-aaaay
Coooo-ooo-oome whaaa-aaat maaa-aaa-aaay
IIIIIIIIIIIIII will loooo-ooooooove you.

She cradled his head in her long slender hands, his eyes filled with wonder, his hands caressing her back.

LILOTHIE: I will always love you.
Suddenly the world seems such a peeerfect place - -

They sang out to the audience, in harmony together, wrapped in each other's arms.

LILOTHIE/FLARK: Cooooooome whaaaaaat maaaaaaaay
Cooooooome whaaaaaat maaaaaaaay
IIIIIIIIIII will love yoooou, until my dyyyy-yyyiiiiing daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

The audience did not make a sound until the last note died, the stage gone to black again, but then they went crazy, wild with enthusiasm.

Dabbing at a tear at the corner of her eye, Padmé turned to her husband.

"Anakin - - "

He glared back and she flinched.

"What?"

"Look at that!" he demanded in a harsh whisper. "Look at that!" he repeated when she didn't understand. He leaned toward her.

"We have to sneak around all the time, but Obi-Wan can do THAT?!"

Down below the crowd was standing about, shouting, hooting and whistling for the performers to appear again.

Her outstretched hand curled up and withdrew. He was angry. Really angry. It did not happen very often and he had never been angry at her. It was always the war, or maybe the Council, but she felt lost when he was angry. He was just so different when he was that way. It had to be the war. She lowered her eyes and looked away.

"I - I - -" he stammered. "I - I - it's not you." She felt his hand touching hers and she had to force herself not to pull away. She let him take her hand and she couldn't help being reminded of the reluctant Lilothie. She wondered if Anakin could sing . . . no, that was a bad idea, then she would have to sing, too and she knew that would not go well. The tips of his fingers stroked her hand. Discretely, under her wide sleeve so her bodyguards couldn't see.

She slowly turned her eyes toward him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm just so . . . . " he struggled for words, ". . . i-it's not fair."

She smiled. He wanted more. They both did. But they had to be careful; they had to wait until the war was over. And then . . . neither one of them had said it, but it was inevitable that he would have to choose between being with her or staying with the Jedi Order. She knew what he would choose.

She smiled warmly back at him. "I know."


### ### ### ### ### ###


"We were back in the aft hold, practicing every minute we could."

Her name was Mirabel Podaruneswenari (she was a Knight, not a Master, and asked Padmé to call her Mirabel), now wearing more familiar Jedi clothing, tall brown boots under loose blousy tan pants over her long slender legs, a pale tunic, tabards, brown belt with obi underneath and a flowing robe the color of gray wet sand. And a light saber on her belt, all silver and weathered gold. She and Obi-Wan had been stowed away on the Republic ship, preparing to reprise their duet from their days as Padawans. C-3PO profusely apologized for not telling her, but General Kenobi forbid that anything be said and ordered work from noisy droid clean-up crew to cover up any sounds that might reach the front of the ship. Padmé had just assumed that her protocol droid was being his usual not-necessarily-helpful self.

"I don't think such secrecy was entirely necessary, but that was General Kenobi's choice." She smiled, dispelling the sadness from her lips. They sat together in the ship's small lounge, the pale, ghostly shapes of hyperspace passing by the wide viewport. C-3PO had served them Araklor tea and seed cakes and left after being excused by Padmé.

"I believe that he was a little embarrassed about this mission and was hoping very much to have someone else to take him back to his command ship other than General Skywalker."

"I'm glad he didn't get his way." The mission was short; the Moulaniru, very pleased with the performance, agreed to ally with the Galactic Republic and Anakin was forced to leave soon after (with promises of reminding Kenobi of what he had seen at every opportunity). But her Jedi Knight had still managed to steal a few secret precious hours alone with her. She sighed at the memory.

"Really?" Mirabel raised dark, delicate brows.

"I mean," she hastily amended, "Anakin and I are old friends, and it was good to see him, especially with the war."

"Oh?" She was utterly expressionless, impossible to read. Padmé kept her gaze calm and steady despite her slip; she always tried to avoid discussing Anakin with any other Jedi lest she accidentally hint at their true relationship.

Mirabel continued sipping her tea. "As mission go, this one was not, too unpleasant for me as well." The smile returned.

"You are old friends with General Kenobi? Your performance was . . . very convincing." Padmé could not help asking. Was it possible that another Jedi was in the same situation as she; bound to another by love forbidden by the Jedi Code? She dared not hope.

Mirabel's smile broadened. "We're not that good friends. Being an excellent diplomat, General Kenobi is also an excellent performer. And he can sing," she amended, putting her teacup down and picking up a cake. "Really, we haven't seen each other in years. So much has changed with the war." Her sadness returned. "It was good to renew out acquaintanceship, to see how we have changed since then. And how we have not." She took a dainty bite. "But he is so much better at war than I."

"At least this time, we have a better story for so swiftly leaving the planet after our triumph other than some vague fear of our success." Mirabel's tone lightened.

"Really?"

"Yes, Minister Aklemos will covertly spread the rumor that Ariatna Gil and Sebamus Criot are actually siblings.

"You're kidding." The Senator stared back in blatant disbelief.

"Well, half-siblings," the Jedi admitted. "And totally unacceptable for Moulaniru sensibilities for such close family relations to perform such an ardent love scene in public."

"You really don't think they'll believe that?"

"It is curious enough to be desirable and believed. And our success was far enough in the past that the rumor will cause more titillation than scandal." She put the half nibbled cake down. "Really, we did not intend to win the festival competition. But we needed to be in as close proximity to some of the other contestants and the judges for as long as possible. And we might have exercised some . . . subtle influences on the judges and others to retain our positions."

Sipping her own tea, Padmé smiled. Mirabel sighed. "Our Masters were very amused." She shook her head.

"What was your mission, if I - - - ?"

Mirabel held up a hand stopping her question. "Something very sensitive to the Moulaniru, even now. And I have found that the best way of caring for any secret is to utter them only in times of absolute need."

Padmé put her cup down, staring down into the fragrant pink tea, her thoughts going back to the few stolen hours that she had with Anakin such a short time ago, like Lilothie and Flark. She smiled her own sad, secret smile.

"Yes, I understand, perfectly."



### ### END ### ###

 

Great, a fun piece

 

Awwwww, Love Obi singing! Even Obi has a romantic soul, he's got that sparkle in his eye Nice!