pepper tea and blue milk caf ☕️

She walked with slow steps through her extensive gardens surrounded by the deep blue summer night, savoring the warm breeze that brought her the pleasant scent of night blooming jasmine. In the darkness was the soft notes of a nightingale's seductive song like the caress of her smooth dark silk of her dress. Beneath her bare feet the grass was soft and the first fallen withered leaves from the trees that were already putting on their brilliant autumn colors swirled like feathers around her ankles. Even in the dim light, the beauty of the vast paradise of living growth was visible.

Her garden was lush and full of life, nurtured and cared for by her and her loved ones' long affection. They were still all around her, hidden in the shadows and safe in the secure embrace of the night.

A low-hanging branch lovingly grabbed her long dark hair and pulled it loose from the knot she had carelessly gathered it in before she had left her chambers in search of her lost companions. A slight smile played across her full lips as she knelt briefly at the gnarled root of the old tree, affectionate stroking the deeply scarred bark that covered its broad and solid trunk. The memory of the young sapling she had once planted here with tenderness in the hope for the young creature to grow strong nourished by the beloved she had laid to rest in the dark soil beneath its roots slowly migrated through her mind. It was a fond memory, the memory of someone she had held very dear, someone who had been her first. He had taught her so much, shown her so many things about the world she still inhabited.

Standing up, she briefly bowed her head in acknowledgment of his memory and the power it still held before continuing her search while other memories came to her as ghost of the past.

Led by the hypnotic heavy sweet scent of roses she found her way to a small bench hidden in a cavern made of fearsome thorns that could rip her soft pale skin to shreds with the slightest touch, where no other weapon would have left a scratch. It was a marvelous secret, so simple and yet so well kept. Only once had she met someone who had known it and she bore the scars she had left behind with pride. She and her countless children were now safely at rest in the clearing that stretched out before her, bathed in moonlight, where she remained hidden in the deep shade under the sweet scent of roses. They were many and numerous, as they had blossomed under her protection and some of them still traveled undetected in the darkness and even the light. Unknown and unseen by all but her. They were an unexpected gift she had never expected and worth every drop of blood she had shed to win their mother's love.

But as much as she longed to stay and dwell in those wonderful memories, the desire and longing for someone else drove her further, deeper into the dense green labyrinth of the garden.

It had taken her a long time to cultivate and shape the landscape to her wishes, but slowly and withstanding the bitterness of patience, she had formed her garden so she could now reap its sweet and fulfilling fruit.

Words of the Faiths wisdom flowed like streams through her mind, words that the journey was better than the destination, that if she so desired her journey would be long and rewarding. But also words of caution, of being aware of the high price she would have to pay. The words of admonition still sounded as clear as the day she had heard them and decided the price was worth paying even if it had been high and painful.

A cold stone damp from the gentle mist that wrapped around her like delicate veils marked another place where she had laid a loved one to rest, one she had lost long before it had been time, and long before either of them had been ready to let death separate them. For a moment she had considered breaking her vow, the oath her beloved had forced her to swear so long ago the words were as fragile and fleeting as the mist that surrounded their final resting place. The vow that she had carved deep into the stone's unwilling cold flesh as tears colored its surface red. Words that now were almost lost, blurred by the cold rain of winter and the relentless teeth of the wind. But she still remembered them, and would keep the promise.

She let a single red drop fall on the name that was still there as she whispered it, its bitter sweet flavor still a delight to her tongue.

The gentle, almost inaudible sound of an owl's wings brought her face up so that the moon could mirror and reflect its cold light in her dark eyes as she followed the silent hunters graceful path through the night. She observed the beautiful deadly bird's pursuit of its elusive prey and only after watching it successfully swoop down into the tall grass where its deadly talons ended its prey's life mercifully quickly, she continued her own hunt.

Her dark robes blended in with the long shadows cast by the tall trees and her feet were silent against the cool ground as she followed the muffled sound of hearts, still rhythmically pumping the liquid of life through warm and supple bodies.

Cautiously, she allowed herself to be lured through the shadows, caressing the slender young birch trees that surrounded a still lake, it's dark glossy mirror reflecting the sky's myriad of twinkling stars. Between the trunks and half hidden in the still lush grass were a multitude of dark stones, all inlaid with runes and other signs. They marked another unexpected gift. The ones she had taken from a life of suffering and torment. Those who had become the children she would never bear in her barren womb under her still heart. They had become her joy and purpose, what had kept her connected to the world that was ever changing around her. From them she had learned as much as they had learned from her before they left her to find their own way, always with her blessing and approval. However they always returned to her, allowing her to keep them with her when the life she had given them came to an end.

When she walked under the branches of the old trees it was never alone but surrounded by all those with whom she had shared life, their spirits many and varied, their lives and memories what kept her thread strong, and as she walked along a path marked by evergreens her thoughts finally wandered to the living beloved she was seeking.

Long after she had given up hope that the goddesses of fate would once again intertwine her resilient thread with other's, and after she had resigned herself to her role as protector and silent observer, they had bestowed upon her something she never thought possible. Something that only legends far older than herself whispered about and that she had studied in writings so old that even she did not know their origin. Whether it was her reward or another test she did not yet know, but she dared not doubt their wisdom.

Even for a being who dwelt on the broad breasts of the past and trusted the strong arms of the future, the gentle kisses of the present were after all still the most precious.

Laughter reached her ear and led her through the garden she had created to always remember and where life was nourished by the bones of her beloved.

As expected she found them, her prey, her elusive beloved where she had always known they would be. It was their favorite hiding place, and the place where she knew they would rest when she one day ended their lives. They knew it too, but when they looked at her it was only with love and tenderness, they knew what she was and the price she paid. They had come to her of their own free will, had sought her out, looking for something different than what they found. And yet there was no regret, no sorrow for what they had sacrificed to gain insight.

A smile, warm and filled with the deep affection she felt for them tugged at her lips revealing the tips of long fangs as she finally saw them bathed in moonlight and the scent of honeysuckle. An ancient apple tree crooked and crippled but still full of life and vigor watched over them, its fruits perfuming the air with their soft ripe scent.

Their embrace was tender and unhurried, they had no need for haste, knowing without a doubt that she would find them soon and join them when she was ready. In the quiet night, their heartbeats sounded as one as they shared every breath. It was simply not possible to imagine them separated now that they had finally accepted each other, and they would stay tightly intertwined for the rest of their life.

But they had not joined her as a unit. No they had come to her separately, searching, lonely and lost yet determined to find.

One had been older, had searched long for her, his quest impressive and honorable, and when he had finally found her among the books in her library, he had not hesitated to demand answers. He had asked questions until even she was captivated by his thirst. Silver had glittered in his dark hair before she had given him all the answers he sought and still he found more questions to ask, but wisdom had also with time granted him the gift of finding them himself.

And with time she had grown to love him, his sharp mind and wit, a pleasure to witness.

They had spent a long time together before he had at last come to her bed, willing and finally ready to sacrifice and receive what only she could give him.

His maturity, the deep furrows surrounding his beautiful gray eyes only heightened his attraction and she had gladly given him the opportunity to gain more knowledge, had even once again considered breaking her promise, but he had wisely asked that she was only prolonging his life, that she was only strengthening his thread enough that it would stay strong a little longer.

But even together they had felt incomplete, as if something was missing from their existence. They had not known what it was until a young and unexpected force had entered their lives like a fresh spring breeze, still carrying the last chill of winter's cold death.

Their beloved had come to them young and angry, searching for something only time could heal, unaware that revenge would not bring her peace. It had seemed like luck had let her find them, and at first she had refused her, unwilling to give in to the plea that shone so desperately in eyes almost as dark as her own. But something had called her to the young hurt woman and had forced her to keep her near. Whether she was a descendant, a distant relative, a child of a shadowy past or something else entirely, she had never discovered, but it was that recognition, that kinship that had convinced her to let her stay despite all.

Anger and hunger had filled her, distorting her beautiful features, but patience and kindness had slowly broken down the wall she had surrounded her heart with, gradually revealing a nature of gentle curiosity and eagerness to learn.

At first her beloved had not gotten along, their vastly different personalities battling each other in a stubborn fight for dominance. Their conflict had for a time filled her home with chaos and a life she was unwilling to admit had delighted her. Its energy had been as intoxicating as the rich flavor of their life blood as it spilled over her tongue.

But passion was a powerful force and combined with patience it would inevitably mature into respect before transforming into love.

She had known it before they had, and her joy in watching it blossom was deep and satisfying.

She had also been willing to let them both go, to let them have each other, had known that she could never come between them once they had found unity. It wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last, as it was another part of the price she paid. It was something she had come to terms with long ago and had prepared her quiet heart to once again be ready to pay.

But life and the Faiths had chosen to surprise her, to give her something precious. She had known it was a possibility, but hadn't believed that it was still possible, had been convinced it was now only something that existed in legends.

The legends were what had captured the interest of her youngest companion, in them she had found knowledge and a wisdom unexpected for her young age, surprising them all. It was as if the ancient, intricate words had opened a gate hidden in her frail mortal body, allowing her an understanding and insight that even she did not possess.

The past whispered to her young beloved with clear words and knowledge, granting her knowledge of the future that none should possess. It was a gift and a curse, an astonishing twist in their inter woven threads.

When she had finally sought her bed ready to forgive and receive, it was she who had not been ready. Only after her wise and older companion had unexpectedly joined them had they at last convinced her of the wisdom of their union. And still she had hesitated, had whispered words of caution, about what it would cost them, and what it might cost her. Her blood was a poison and a gift, something that could end a life but also bring it. It was something she had to be careful with and always vigilant.

But in the end, they were successful in seducing her, something that had rarely happened, and that night she had taken what they offered her, had drained their life force while they had been connected in the most intimate embrace. In return, they had given her a taste of their life, and it had been a heady nectar, its power startling even for her.

They still wouldn't stay with her forever, but their time would be long, far longer than anyone else's, and if she wanted, she would now have the choice to follow them when the time was right. If she wished she could join them under the apple tree, could rest with them.

That was the precious and extraordinary gift they had given her, mortality, a choice.

But here, now, in the fleeting and fragile moment that was so precious, it was their gift of love that filled her heart and mind, and allowed her to walk peacefully through her garden of memories, her sacred place where all those she had loved rested in peace, and where the past and future walked arm in arm with the present.

She left her heavy silk robe at the edge of the clearing, letting it slip off so she could join her loved ones naked and almost as fragile as they. Her hunt had come to an end, her prey willing and ready to let her taste their lives. When she reached them she allowed their eager hands to pull her into their embrace, letting her become one with them.

And as she rested with them holding them both in her arms the blue night surrounded them with a surprisingly gentle darkness, as the cool breeze that carried the first taste of winter's death caressed their hot skin. She listened to the nightingale's song mingling with the sound of their hearts, while the peaceful garden sheltered them in the embrace of past love.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”