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Chapter Text

Amazing cover art by: Popjeckdoom

[Image ID: The upper left corner of the artwork has the title of the story, “Past the Bannerline.”  Underneath it says, “Written by Zarz.”  The upper-right corner says, “Illustrated by Aliennotperson and Popjeckdoom.”  

On the left side of the picture is Palpatine, the largest figure in the picture.  He’s wearing a golden crown.  He has a red sleeveless tunic over a puffy white shirt and dark gray gloves.  He has brown pants and darker brown knee-high boots.  He also has a red cape trailing to the floor.  A spotlight is shining down on him, and behind him are red and white curtains.  His right arm is over his stomach while his left arm is outstretched and holding a wooden X that has strings coming down from it  –  the control device for a marionette puppet.  The strings are attached to two smaller figures in the lower right corner of the picture: Cody and Obi-Wan.  

Obi-Wan is slightly in front, wearing beige Jedi robes and with his left leg raised and left arm slightly out as if he’s dancing.  Cody is standing next to him, holding his right hand up to Cody’s chest.  Cody is wearing a sleeveless white bodysuit with a gold sunburst on his chest and a thin line of gold around his collar.  There are matching gold sunbursts on the tops of his black boots.  Obi-Wan and Cody are looking at each other and smiling.  Both have slightly pointed ears.

The third part of the picture is a smaller image in the upper right with three figures in combat.  Anakin is wielding a red lightsaber.  He has medium-long, loose hair, and a distraught expression.  He’s wearing dark-colored Jedi robes.  Two people are in combat with him.  On the left is Rex.  In his left hand he’s holding a basket-hilted metal sword crossing Anakin’s lightsaber.  Rex has a blue cape and a blue, black, and cream tunic over a white shirt with dark bracers.  He has dark pants and tall, dark boots.  Next to him is another figure with dark hair, facing away from the viewer and holding a metal sword in his outstretched right hand.  He has a white tunic with gold shoulders over a black shirt.  The image stops just below his waist.  Anakin and Rex are standing on stairs with arches behind them.

The bottom left of the art says @Popjeckdoom May, 23.  End ID]

Chapter Text

The circus tent had appeared between one day and the next, right in the middle of the market square.  No one was sure quite how much magic had been required to make that happen, but no one who had gone to one of the performances questioned how they had accomplished it.  

The dramatic red and black patterned tent was large, too, towering over nearly all the buildings in the town of Coruscant save the Jedi Temple and the Summer Palace.  Less than three blocks away from the market square, and therefore the tent, the Jedi Temple’s spires rose nearly five stories into the air above the town.  The Jedi Order had never intended for their Order’s headquarters to sit right in the heart of the largest town in the entire Summer Realm, but Coruscant had grown up around them.  First, it had been lesser Fae taking advantage of the Jedi Knights’ protection.  Then one of the Summer Queens had been looking to relocate her palace to a more central location in the Summer Lands and had chosen Coruscant.  Then, of course, that had drawn others looking to put themselves close to power, and now the town was bustling at all hours of the day (and night, considering the wide varieties of nocturnal Fae who made their homes there as well).  

The Knights, squires, and pages who made the Temple their home (at least when not out on missions as questing Knights defending the innocents of the Realm) had no shortage of duties to fill their time.  Still, everyone knew the importance of taking at least some time off to rest, so it wasn’t surprising that the vast majority of them had elected to use whatever free time they had to investigate this new circus.  Traveling performers weren’t uncommon this close to the Summer Palace and (perhaps even more importantly) this close to the week of celebrations surrounding the Summer Solstice.  Still, an entire circus troupe capable of making a massive tent appear out of thin air was unusual enough to stand out from the more common pairs and trios of musicians and jugglers, and even more so when they hailed all the way from the Winter Realm.  

After hearing nothing but gossip about the circus and its performances in the Jedi Temple’s refectory for three days running, Obi-Wan had finally had to concede that he, too, was a little curious about this show that had taken so much of the Jedi Order by storm.  He knew his former squire, Anakin, had just gotten back from a tedious mission with his own squire, Ahsoka, so he had invited them along for the afternoon.  

Approaching the giant red and black tent, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka ensured their outer robes fully covered their lightsaber hilts.  Their lightsabers were bound to their very souls – it was, in a very integral way, what made them Jedi – plus Jedi Knights (and squires) had to be prepared to respond to an emergency at any moment.  It would be unthinkable to leave the Temple precincts without their lightsaber.  And it wasn’t like the town's other inhabitants wouldn’t recognize them as Knights from their robes alone  –  Jedi were some of the few inhabitants of the city who tended to wear plain, simple outfits even during festival days.  Still, they weren’t attending the show as Jedi; they were attending as friends who wanted to see the circus, and keeping their lightsabers covered would help reassure those around them that they weren’t there on official business.

After paying two minor secrets, a pressed flower, and a hairpin enchanted to keep one’s bangs out of one’s eyes, the three Jedi were handed their tickets and escorted into the tent by a pair of masked, red-clad figures, who showed them to their patch of grass on the side of a gentle hill that had decidedly not existed in the middle of the market square prior to the circus’ arrival.  

“Is everything in this circus going to be red or black?” Ahsoka whispered to Anakin and Obi-Wan as the two ushers walked away.  “That’s going to get old really fast.”

“Be polite, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan admonished gently.  “Though,” he admitted, eying the departing ushers to be sure they were out of earshot, “it is a little on the garish side.”

Anakin elbowed the other two. “C’mon, just relax and enjoy the show; it’s about to start!”

Sure enough, a moment later, the balls of faerie fire scattered around the inside of the tent vanished abruptly, and the crowd hushed.  Then a single spotlight shone down on an older gentleman who most assuredly hadn’t been standing on the stage before the lights had gone out.  He was wearing a black hat and pants and a red coat, and he carried a long black baton.  

“Welcome,” he called out, in a voice that carried to the farthest corners of the tent, “to the Circus Fantastica!”

The spotlight vanished, and when the full stage lights came up an instant later, the ringmaster had disappeared, and in his place were dozens of performers in brilliant rainbow finery.  

The following two hours were an almost overwhelming display of color, light, and energy.  As a Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan had thought he was largely inured to feats of strength and dexterity.  As he and his fellow Knights would regularly use spells to help them leap across chasms or dodge an entire volley of arrows, he had assumed the physical acts would be the least impressive part of the whole experience.

He was wrong.

He spent the entire first half with his eyes glued to the stage.  Then he spent the whole intermission tuning out Anakin and Ahsoka’s gushing in favor of frantically taking notes on new inspirations for exercises they could incorporate into training at the Temple.

The second act was even better.

It opened with a dozen humanoid Fae all clad in brilliant blue skintight suits, with swirls of sparkling white and different shades of blue giving the impression of a perfect summer sky, all throwing themselves fearlessly between trapeze bars hung several dozen feet above the stage.  Despite having no net, wings, or overt magical spells to protect them, they never faltered once, and Obi-Wan marveled at the trust they must have in themselves and each other.  

The next segment began with a dozen points of light, shortly revealed to be some sort of palm-sized balls covered in flames and hanging from cords, two of which were held by each red-robed performer.

Gasps of awe and wonder spread through the audience as they did at every new act’s reveal, though Obi-Wan was pretty sure he caught Ahsoka muttering under her breath, “Not more red!”

Then Obi-Wan was gasping himself.  These clearly weren’t any of the traditional, heatless forms of faerie fire, as the four outermost performers touched their balls to a rope structure draped around the stage.  The rope caught instantly, the flames lending the stage an eerie glow.  Then the performers began to twirl their flaming spheres in ever more complicated patterns around themselves, dancing in and around and sometimes even through the blazing web surrounding them.  The music played faster and faster, and somehow, Obi-Wan realized, they must have timed this down to the second, as the music rose to a crescendo, and then the final rope burned out in the same instant that the performers dropped to their knees in a final bow, snuffing the fire against the stage floor and plunging the stage into darkness.

In the darkness of the set change, Obi-Wan could feel his heart pounding as fast as if he had just finished an entire set of katas during training.  Luckily, the show’s directors seemed to have anticipated the audience would appreciate something a little calmer after the fire dance.

As Obi-Wan watched with naked shock, the lights came back up on a giant tank of water slowly levitating from somewhere below the stage, in the most blatant demonstration of raw magical power that the circus had displayed since its initial arrival.  

Swimming around in the tank were a handful of nearly identical performers, all darting around as sleekly as any fish Obi-Wan knew, though they evidently breathed air as they periodically had to come up to the surface.  The simple joy the group displayed in their synchronized underwater acrobatics brought a smile to Obi-Wan’s face, and he couldn’t help but hope that Knight Fisto would be back from his latest mission in time to watch them swim, and perhaps join them.

Except…  Obi-Wan frowned to himself.  Why weren’t there any Nautolans among the performers?  Or selkies?  Or any of the other amphibious species which wouldn’t have required coming up for air?  

Now that he was thinking about it, it was glaringly obvious: throughout the entire show, the performers had all been astoundingly homogenous  –  at least so far as he could tell while they were wearing outfits that covered them wrist to ankle.  Coupled with the dramatic facial designs (from this far away, he couldn’t guess whether those were natural or some type of physical or magical cosmetic), he supposed there were a fair number of species which would be visibly indistinguishable from this distance.  And yet it was surprising that there hadn’t been any sign of performers noticeably taller or shorter than the rest, much less ones with tails or wings or an extra pair of arms.  

That was exceedingly odd, and concerning if it had been an intentional choice.  Still, recruiting was probably not the decision of the performers themselves, who had no doubt worked incredibly hard to prepare this show, so he resolved to enjoy the remainder of the show and then write a strongly worded letter to the circus’s leadership afterwards.

During Obi-Wan’s musings, the underwater act had finished, and the tank had disappeared, leaving an entirely bare stage.  Obi-Wan stared at it in surprise for a few moments – he had been distracted, yes, but not so much as to miss the curtain call!

Then two young men walked onstage, both wearing skintight gold bodysuits, carrying nothing but a long beam between them.  It reminded Obi-Wan of the balance beams he had occasionally trained his gymnastics skills on in the Temple gym, except that rather than mounting it to the floor, the two men took up station facing each other, with one end of the beam over each one’s shoulders.

Then a third person came out, dressed similarly but with slightly more elaborate face paint and a brilliant golden sunburst sparkling across his suit.  With a single hop he was balanced on the beam, and suddenly, Obi-Wan realized there was one other very major difference from the balance beams he had trained on as a child: this one was flexible.

As the two people holding the beam let it bend and flex, the one on top helped it along, shifting his weight until he had enough momentum to fly into the air with a flip.  He came back down, only to be once again launched into the air, this time high enough to do a triple somersault.  It was somewhat like a very, very good trampolinist, Obi-Wan thought, except with the vastly higher level of difficulty imposed by needing to land precisely where one started, with almost no margin for error.  

After that performer had done an initial routine of impressive solo aerial acrobatics, four more trios of performers joined the first set, and now the acrobats could flip back and forth between the different beams.  It truly was an incredible display of agility and precision, and when the lights went down for the scene change, Obi-Wan joined the audience in a hearty round of applause.

That seemed to have been the last of the individual acts, as the Ringmaster appeared and called all of the performers back to the stage to give one last jaw-dropping display of color and light and impossible acrobatics.

“Thank you,” the Ringmaster finally called, “for joining us at the Circus Fantastica!  I am Ringmaster Palpatine, and I bid you all good night!”

Then the entire company bowed and vanished to a tent-ful of applause.

---

With the performance over, Ahsoka immediately ran off to look for some treats that the other squires at the Temple had recommended to her.  Anakin disappeared shortly after that, to who knew where.  That left Obi-Wan at loose ends.  He spent a few minutes wandering around the tent before noticing a picture line set up in one out-of-the-way corner.  

It was an impressive set-up.  There were over a dozen easels, each with an enchanted paintbrush that could produce a good likeness of a person in five minutes.  By each easel waited one of the performers.  Any interested audience member could offer a small payment to the red-clad supervisor and then pick one of the performers to get a painting with.  

About halfway down the line, one of the blue-clad performers – Obi-Wan thought he recognized the outfit from the trapeze artists – had been chosen by a group of no less than six of the Temple pages, who had apparently decided to pool their trade items together to get a souvenir of the show.  Obi-Wan knew the performer they had chosen must have been quite strong, given the way he had flung himself and the other acrobats around through the air. However, it was still impressive to see him standing there entirely steady while Petro, Katooni, Byph, Ganodi, Zatt, and Gungi formed a pyramid on top of him.  

Obi-Wan was about to turn and look for the others once more when he paused.  Quinlan was always after him to go out and enjoy himself, and whenever he protested that he did, in fact, entertain himself with all sorts of hobbies quite frequently, Quinlan taunted him that there were no records, so it didn’t count.  Getting a painting of himself and one of the performers would certainly be evidence.  

There wasn’t a long line, so he paid three sparks of magic and a shiny rock – the prices here were truly quite low compared to how much work must have gone into creating the circus and each performance – to make his selection among the performers.  The trapeze artist, perhaps?  Or maybe one of the fire dancers?  Or, no.  There, at the end of the row, was the sunburst performer from the final springboard act.  

If there was a previous customer, they had already left, so Obi-Wan approached the performer.  

“Hello there,” he greeted, not quite sure what the procedure was supposed to be here.  “My name is Obi-Wan.  It’s nice to meet you.”

The performer startled, just briefly, then smiled shyly. “You can call me Cody.”  

Ah, yes, Obi-Wan reminded himself.  If the performers were either all or mostly Winter Fae then they’d probably be hesitant about giving out their True Names, lest someone use them against them.  Misusing a Name was generally considered incredibly gauche in the Summer Realm – not to say that it never happened – but people generally tended to be pretty free with their Names, even with new acquaintances.  In Kingdoms where that wasn’t the case, giving someone an alternate name with which to call them was a common tradition.

“Where should I…?”

Cody seemed on slightly firmer footing here; no doubt he’d done this thousands of times already.  “You can sit on the bench there and get into whatever position you’d prefer.”

“How much can I move?”  Obi-Wan hadn’t really interacted with enchanted paintbrushes outside of those making records of the occasional crime scene he was called in to consult for, and there he was hardly going to be the subject of their work.  Best to ask.

“The entire painting takes about five minutes,” Cody rattled off in a clearly practiced spiel.  “You should keep in approximately the same pose during that time, but small movements and talking are okay.  When the painting is done, the paintbrush will ring the bell, and you can collect your painting.  Are you comfortable where you are?”

At Obi-Wan’s nod, Cody went over to the easel, whispered some sort of activation phrase to the paintbrush, and then headed back to Obi-Wan.  

Obi-Wan had assumed he’d take a seat on the bench next to Obi-Wan’s chair but, instead, he bent forward over it, dropping into a handstand and then twisting the rest of his limbs around in a pretzel-like contortion that had Obi-Wan’s joints aching just looking at it.  

“You don’t need to!” he said in a rush.  “Don’t feel you need to hold a pose like that for so long for my sake!  I’m fine with something simpler.”

The professional smile on Cody’s face softened into something more real.  “Thank you,” he said, with a touch of shyness, “but this is fine.  We’re all well trained, and I can hold this for plenty long enough without strain.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Obi-Wan couldn’t hold in his questions any longer.  “I noticed,” he asked carefully, “that everyone performing looked quite similar…?”

“Oh, yes,” Cody answered, apparently unconcerned about the question. “We’re all siblings, so we all look alike.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, before he wrenched his expression back to a more neutral expression.  It would be just his luck if the paintbrush chose that moment as the one to illustrate!  Siblinghood would certainly explain the similarities. In fact, now that he had a closer view than he had on stage, he thought the skin on the performers’ hands where the makeup didn’t cover it was all a relatively uniform deep tan, quite a few shades darker than his own.  Their heads were mostly covered by dramatic headgear, but the general facial shape matched up remarkably well, too.

So that answered one question, only to spawn a dozen more.

“How many of you are there?” he finally managed, trying for polite interest, but his voice probably still conveying some of his surprise.

“Well, there were 99 of us to start with, but at this point we’re down to 64 of us actively performing.”  And now Cody was absolutely seeing if he could get a reaction from Obi-Wan, which made Obi-Wan all the more determined to respond politely.  If a family consisted of sixty-four siblings, or ninety-nine, who was Obi-Wan to judge?

The logistics of it, though!  Fae could live hundreds of years if they weren’t killed, and there weren’t many things that could kill a Fae.  So it was theoretically possible for a Fae to bear a hundred children.  Most families didn’t have more than a couple of children, though, and more than a dozen was nearly unheard of.  Of course, siblings didn’t necessarily mean full siblings, or even blood siblings at all.

Maybe Obi-Wan needed to work on his diplomat’s expression a bit more, as Cody gave a wry smile and added, “We were grown, not born.”

Obi-Wan made a questioning noise before he could stop himself, and Cody went on. “A hunter was sailing past the witch Nala Se’s island, when a storm wrecked his boat upon her shore.  In exchange for an heir, and a way through the storm and off her island, he gave her 100 hairs off his head.  She planted all hundred hairs in the ground and, in due course, a hundred plants sprang up.  Each one budded, and when the flowers opened, there we were.  One child was sent off with the hunter, to be trained in his ways, while the rest of us were blessed with strength and agility and enchanted to grow up in days rather than years.”

“Thank you for sharing your story, Cody,” Obi-Wan responded slowly, as he tried to process what he’d heard.  “So, everyone in the circus is part of your family?  Or just the performers?”

“Well, Ringmaster Palpatine was the one who asked Nala Se to grow us  –  we’ve always wondered if she actually called the storm to wreck the hunter just so she could bargain for his hair  –  but all the rest are us.”

Things like commissioning children grown from plants, much less enchanting them to grow up in days, were illegal in the Summer Kingdom.  But Cody and his family weren’t from the Summer Kingdom.  The Winter Kingdom didn’t have the same laws, not that anyone would have that much luck enforcing said laws on a witch hiding on an island in an enchanted storm anyway.  Still, just because something was legal didn’t mean it was moral.  Obi-Wan finally managed to ask, “That’s… quite a request for Palpatine to make.  I wonder why he did it?”

“I can’t say,” Cody shrugged.  “Um, and you?  The sword hilt at your belt, that means something important, right?”

Cody was starting to look a little uncomfortable, and to be fair, Obi-Wan knew he had been prying rather more than was strictly polite, so turnabout only seemed fair play.  And, sure enough, his robes had shifted enough as he sat that his lightsaber hilt was visible.

He started to reach for the hilt but then thought better of it, and rearranged his arms in the same position they had been in before, hopefully before the paintbrush got confused.  “Yes, the hilt is actually that of a lightsaber.  It’s not an official symbol, but typically lightsabers are only carried by Knights and squires of the Jedi Order.”

“What’s the Jedi Order?” Cody asked curiously.

Obi-Wan blinked.  It was rare he interacted with someone who didn’t even know what the Order was, but then again, they weren’t welcome in the Winter Kingdom, so any Jedi who did go there were as deep undercover as possible.  

“An order of Knighthood.  I suppose the most well-known thing about us is that we’re trained in both magical and martial skills, rather than one or the other, so more properly we’d be called Knight-mages, but that’s long enough we usually just say “Knight”.  We use our swords as any other Knight would, but the swords themselves are magical, so the blade only appears when we wish it to.  We serve the Summer Kingdom as questing Knights, helping people and solving disputes as needed.”

“Huh.” Cody looked contemplative, and maybe a little sad.  “I think if I weren’t an acrobat, I’d like to be a Knight like you.”  He thought a little longer.  “You said you serve the Summer Kingdom?  Not the Summer King?  Or… do you have a monarch here?”

Obi-Wan was charmed by Cody’s innocent curiosity.  “Yes, a queen.  Queen Breha.  And while we will protect her – her assassination would no doubt do great harm to the people of the Kingdom, even with Summer Lady Padme ready to take over as her heir – our mandate is to help the people of the Kingdom rather than a specific ruler.  So we travel all across the Kingdom looking for those who need our aid.”

Obi-Wan felt a brief wave of grief.  He was proud to be a Jedi Knight and proud of being able to help people in need, and yet it was also lonely sometimes, spending so long away from the Temple.  This was the first outing he had had with Anakin and Ahsoka in far too long; it was rare for his interludes back at the Temple to line up with theirs, or any of his friends’.

Cody gave him a concerned look, and Obi-Wan smiled gently back.  “It can be a lonely life, traveling all the time.  But then, I suppose you know that well yourself, especially if not all your siblings perform with you.  Do you at least get to write or visit sometimes?”

Sadness crossed Cody’s face, and Obi-Wan suspected he had his answer.

“I don’t know if it would help,” he offered hesitantly, “but if part of the problem is that you have no consistent address, you could let your siblings know to write you letters care of the Jedi Temple here.  Then, when you stop someplace for a few days, you can send us a message letting us know where, and we can open a teleportation circle to send anything that’s arrived to you before you head onward again.”

“That’s… That’s very kind of you,” Cody got out, and Obi-Wan smiled gently back.  

Teleportation circles weren’t precisely easy, but with an entire Temple full of knight-mages who did the same thing often enough for their own correspondence across the Kingdom, they were hardly an insurmountable challenge.  “I promise you, it won’t be an imposition,” Obi-Wan added.

At that moment the bell rang, signaling that the painting was done, and Cody dropped out of his contortion to grab it and bring it back to Obi-Wan.  

Obi-Wan loved it.

“Thank you,” he told Cody sincerely.  “It was wonderful to speak with you, and I apologize for being rather impertinent in my questions.  Please do take me up on the offer to send letters via the Temple if that would help you stay in contact with any of your other siblings.  I… I suppose I probably won’t see you again unless you come back through here again at some point.”

“It was good to talk to you, too, Obi-Wan,” Cody answered with a shy smile, “and I don’t mind the questions.  And thank you for the offer.  I suppose this is goodbye, then.  Unless… We will be staying here at least through the Midsummer celebrations, and we have quite the repertoire of shows.  The Circus Fantastica–” his voice changed pitch into an announcer’s voice he had probably learned from listening to the ringmaster, “–has a show for every taste and audience!  With a mix of acrobatics, stories, and derring-do, every show is a new wonder for the senses!   Which is to say,” he added in his own voice, “you’d be welcome to come back again if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan answered. “I think I will.”

---

By the time he found Anakin and Ahsoka again, Ahsoka had managed to get her hands on a sparkly cloud of candy floss larger than her head and was begging to go show it off to the other squires she had spotted.  Anakin agreed, and Obi-Wan suggested she might want to share her bounty rather than try to eat it all herself.  She shouted back a vague acknowledgement and then disappeared into the crowd again.

That left just Obi-Wan and Anakin, meandering slowly towards the exit.  It was nice to spend time with his former squire once again, Obi-Wan thought. It had been far too long, for all that they still fell into step together as easily as they ever had.

“What have you been up to since the show ended?” he asked.  “I got a picture to show Quinlan as proof that I was actually here, and had a lovely chat with one of the performers.”

“I got to chat with Ringmaster Palpatine,” Anakin answered.  “It truly is quite remarkable how he’s shaped such a group of Winter Fae into something so extraordinary!  I wouldn’t have thought it was possible.”

Obi-Wan paused for a moment, taken aback.  “Well, yes, the show is remarkable, Anakin, but what does them being from Winter have to do with it?

“Oh, you know,” Anakin said awkwardly, “just that you don’t really expect something positive like this to come out of Winter, do you?  Anyway, Palpatine himself is from Summer, he told me – the same village the Summer Lady Padme is from, as it turns out.  It was really interesting hearing about all the adventures he’s had since he founded this circus.  He’s really made it something extraordinary, hasn’t he?”

Obi-Wan grimaced and opened his mouth to say something.  The circus was extraordinary, yes, but surely whatever credit Palpatine deserved for that went equally to the performers who had no doubt put in thousands and thousands of hours of practice to perform so well.  And as for what Anakin’s statements betrayed about his underlying attitudes towards Winter Fae….  Racism was never, ever acceptable, and for Jedi Knights, with the work they did, it was even more critical that they help all people fairly and justly.  

Yet even as he opened his mouth to try to say something, anything, in rebuttal, Anakin had already spotted a familiar face halfway across the tent.

“Sorry, Master!  I have a question I need to ask Sabé.  I’ll see you back at the Temple!”  And then he was gone.

“See you there!” Obi-Wan finally got out belatedly, moments after Anakin had already disappeared into the crowd.  He sighed.  He’d have liked to push back against Anakin’s statements immediately, but at least the delay gave him the opportunity to figure out exactly what he wanted to say, along with more privacy for the conversation than a crowd like this could allow.  He should probably also talk with Ahsoka.  Squires learned from many different Knights in the Order, of course, but with the amount of time they spent with their immediate Master, there was a lot that could be passed along even beyond the official lessons.  Racism was not something he was willing to see passed down. In fact, he should probably spend some time in meditation himself, to think back over his own training of Anakin and see whether there had been anything in his own attitudes or behavior that could have made Anakin believe an attitude like that was acceptable.  

Obi-Wan sighed.  Self-improvement was the Jedi way, and that was work that would never be completed.

There was also the question of what exactly Anakin needed to talk to Sabé about so desperately.  As a handmaiden for Summer Lady Padme, there were plenty of official channels to discuss any quests the Knights had undertaken or which the Court wished to suggest.  

Which probably meant it wasn’t anything official.  

There were plenty of other possibilities, but with a sinking heart, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but suspect this had something to do with young love.

When Jedi took their final vows to become Knights, they swore what was, in essence, a marriage oath to the Order and their mission.  That didn’t preclude the occasional fling, but those were, if not precisely discouraged, at least not encouraged, given the dedication required to be a Knight.  

On the Summer Court’s side, the Summer Lady (or Lord, on occasions when there was one) swore an oath of total celibacy and chastity until such time as the previous King or Queen retired, when they would choose a consort according to the needs of the Summer Kingdom.  Such had Queen Breha done when she chose Bail, and such would Padme do upon her ascension to the throne, when she would also hold the election for the next Summer Lord or Lady.  

So it wouldn’t be her, but it could easily be one of her handmaidens.  They also took oaths to remain unmarried while they served their Lady, but it wouldn’t be the first time a Knight and Handmaiden had had the occasional discreet liaison.  

It just helped when they were actually discreet about it.

But Anakin was a Knight in his own right now, which meant he was old enough to make his own decisions and learn from the consequences, so all Obi-Wan could really do was wish them well.

In the meantime, it was time for him to head back to the Temple.  So long as he was here with his family in person, he’d make the most of this chance to catch up with everyone he could.  Tea with Mace would be an excellent end to the day.

Chapter Text

“What news have you all?  Anything interesting?  Anything we can use?”

“Three lesser members of the Court, decked in enough jewelry to finance the circus for a year.  They implied that they will be staying here in town through the Midsummer festivities, leaving their homes unprotected and the valuables which they have with them more lightly guarded than usual.”

“Fascinating.  Still, it’s time to consider a larger prize.  Other news?”

“I met a Jedi Knight.  He seemed intrigued by the performance and willing to talk.”

“Excellent.  We can always use an in with the Jedi.  If you see him again, continue to befriend him.  He may have more valuable information to share, and even if not, having one who is sympathetic may offer us valuable protection.  Anything else?”

“A handmaiden of the Summer Lady.  I overheard her telling a young man that she’s worried about the Summer Lady’s health.”

“Nicely done.  That may be the key.  Now back to work!”

Chapter Text

Despite his interest in the circus, Obi-Wan hadn’t intended to keep his promise to Cody quite this quickly.  The day after his expedition to the circus with Anakin and Ahsoka, he had been planning to attend a training session at the Temple about two-weapon fighting techniques.  He didn’t strictly need it – he’d actually been an assistant instructor for the class a time or two while he had been training Anakin – but it was always good to keep his skills sharp, and it would be nice to support Anakin and Ahsoka since they were both planning to go.

And yet, something about the circus kept tugging at him, though he wasn’t sure what.  Cody’s story of the circus’ creation was certainly odd, and Obi-Wan had requested Madame Nu look through Jedi records to see if there were any accounts of a Jedi encountering the witch Cody had mentioned, or her island.  However, Cody hadn’t expressed any unhappiness with the fact of his and his siblings’ creation, only that some of his siblings were distant from him.  And yet something – instinct, perhaps, or even magic itself – drew him back to the circus once more.

Or perhaps it was only the desire to see and speak with Cody once more.  

No, Obi-Wan knew himself too well to believe that.  It had been enjoyable talking to Cody, and he thought they could probably become good friends in time, but no part of him would manufacture a problem where one didn’t exist purely to spend time with someone.

He had enough real problems as it was.

However, none of the other Knights he had spoken to in passing had noticed anything amiss at the circus, so perhaps it was merely that too many quests in a row had left him jumping at shadows.  At any rate, he didn’t have any official duties at the moment beyond preparing to stand guard while the Queen attended several of the celebrations surrounding the Solstice, so Obi-Wan figured there was no harm in attending one or two more performances, and hopefully either uncovering whatever might be worrying his instincts or laying it to rest once and for all.

---

There had been no sign of the performers before the show, but that was hardly a surprise given how focused they must be on their upcoming show.  

For this performance, Obi-Wan had paid an additional roc feather for a seat closer to the stage to better see if anything was amiss.  He found it hard to remember that intention, however, when the curtain lifted on a scene of two young men aboard a delicate array of wood and rope that he suspected was supposed to represent a storm-tossed ship.  They were fighting a hoard of demonic-looking monsters (though looking closely, it became apparent that all the horns, fangs, tails, and claws were careful costuming of Fae exactly the same size and shape as Cody) with a dramatic display of swordsmanship that, had he not known it had surely been scripted, would have put many of the less martially-skilled Knights to shame.  Tragedy struck, however, and one young man – it had slowly become clear they were meant to be brothers – was knocked overboard.  His brother, distraught at his sibling’s death, was overcome with grief and quickly captured and dragged off.  

Amazing art by: Alienficsoutofspite (Tumblr)/Aliennotperson (AO3)

[Image ID: Two performers are standing on a stage.  The one on the right has dark skin and black hair.  He’s wearing a puffy white shirt, gold sash, black pants, and tall black boots.  He is turned to his left, with his left arm outstretched and holding a gold-hilted rapier.  Guarding his back, the other performer has dark skin and blond hair.  He’s also wearing a puffy white shirt, black pants, and tall black boots, but his sash is blue.  His left arm is raised and he’s looking back towards the first performer.  In his right hand he has a silver-hilted rapier.  The backdrop of the stage is a grassy field with a starry sky.  To the left of the stage is a large tree.  Obi-Wan is sitting in the audience, facing towards the stage with only the back of his head and side of his beard visible.  He’s surrounded by other shadowy figures sitting in seats.  Some of their head shapes appear humanoid, while others have Togrutan montrals.  End ID]

The first brother reappeared, having managed to avoid drowning and swim to shore.  He was wearing a golden sash over his loose white shirt and tight black pants, and proceeded to embark on an epic quest across the land looking for his captured brother.  Along the way, he was alternately helped and hindered by dozens of groups of Fae, animals, and other beings.  This was where it became clear it was, indeed, a circus, as various groups displayed their athletic prowess while either encouraging him to join them to earn their help or, alternately, attempting to capture him, requiring him to evade them via tightropes, a trapeze, rope climbing, and other assorted acrobatics.

Seeing the performers run lightly over ropes a dozen feet in the air sparked Obi-Wan’s curiosity.  Perhaps if he had another chance to talk to Cody he’d be able to ask about the safety equipment and spells the circus used.  Or maybe they were a trade secret, considering how careful the directors had been to make them absolutely imperceptible to the audience, to the point where Obi-Wan couldn’t begin to guess what methods they might be using.  In that case he wouldn’t pry, but if there was anything Cody was willing to share, Obi-Wan would love to replicate some of the ideas in the Temple training salles.

As the performance continued, the young man eventually reached an obstacle he could not surmount: a glass wall blocking him from going onward.  He tried climbing it, and failed.  He tried smashing it, and failed.  He tried finding an end to it, and failed.  Finally he slumped, defeated, knowing he would never again see his brother.

Then the curtain dropped.

There was a long, stunned silence from the crowd until Ringmaster Palpatine stepped onto the stage.

“We will now take a fifteen-minute intermission!  Refreshments are available to the left of the…”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out in applause as everyone realized with relief that the story was not yet over and that they owed the performers a major round of applause for the performance they had just given.

Obi-Wan found a few Temple members to make polite chit-chat with during intermission but was back in his seat well before the start of Act II.

This act began with the other brother – conveyed by him wearing a blue sash where his sibling had worn gold – waking up in the monsters’ castle.  Through some impressive acrobatics, he squeezed himself out of his cell’s minuscule window, free-climbed down the outside of the tower, evaded and outwitted the guards sent to recapture him, and then embarked on a similar journey as his brother’s, in the opposite direction.  

As the end of the play approached, Obi-Wan found his heart in his throat.  It might make for great symbolism and drama to have the performance end with the two brothers finding each other and yet separated for all time by a barrier they could not pass, but Obi-Wan didn’t think his heart could bear an ending like that.  

And, for a moment, it appeared that that was the ending they would get.  The brother with the blue sash saw his brother in the gold sash and rushed forward, only to be stopped by the glass wall.  He tried to get through it, just as his brother had, and failed in all the same ways.

And yet, as they were looking at each other in mingled joy and despair, dozens of other performers crept on stage – one from each of the groups that each brother had befriended.  And then, in unison, they gave the wall a mighty blow and it shattered into a million pieces.  

The brothers threw themselves into each others’ arms, reunited at last.  All those who had helped the brothers on their journeys began to mingle and celebrate together.

The curtain fell for the final time on their exuberant dance, and Obi-Wan joined the rest of the audience in a standing ovation.

---

As the crowd began to disperse, Obi-Wan wandered over to where the painting stations were beginning to be set up.  More evidence was always useful when dealing with Quinlan, but what he really wanted was the chance to talk with Cody again.

None of the performers had worn anything precisely identical to the gold bodysuit Cody had worn yesterday, though he thought one of the juggling groups had come closest.  Or perhaps Cody had been among the group wearing shimmering dragonfly wings as they did a trampoline act that seemed the most reminiscent of Cody’s previous act.  

Obi-Wan’s heart sank as he looked down the line of performers taking their places and didn’t see anyone in either costume.  

Then he looked again, and did a double-take as the golden-sashed brother jogged towards him with a wave.  Obi-Wan stepped forward with a questioning, “Cody?”  And yes, as Cody got closer Obi-Wan could recognize the scar curling around his left eye, which he had only discovered after staring at the painting last night for rather too long.  It was much easier to see today without the colorful, glittery make-up designs covering large portions of his face.  

“It’s good to see you again, Obi-Wan,” Cody said once he was close enough that he wouldn’t be shouting Obi-Wan’s Name for half the tent to hear.  “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually be back.”

“I confess I wasn’t planning to return quite so quickly, but I’m glad I did,” Obi-Wan admitted.  “That was a truly extraordinary show, and that was an impressive job playing one of the leads.  You are a very talented actor, in addition to your incredible acrobatic skills.”

“Thanks,” Cody answered, ducking his head shyly, but not before Obi-Wan caught a faint blush.  A moment later, he darted a glance back to the rows of easels, and Obi-Wan winced.

“I shouldn’t keep you from your duties.  Though, perhaps, do you suppose I could get another picture with you?”

“Of course!  Just let me talk to Fox and he’ll let you skip the line.”

It was only when Cody spoke that Obi-Wan noticed just how long of a line had formed even in the brief moments of their introduction.  Thoroughly ingrained politeness made him open his mouth to assure Cody he didn’t mind waiting his turn, but it was too late as Cody was tugging him up towards the red-clad figure – brother – taking payment at the front of the line.  A brief, signed conversation later, and Cody was once more tugging Obi-Wan forward.  Obi-Wan pulled Cody to a stop long enough to pass Fox the proper payment – he might be jumping the line, but he wasn’t about to stiff the performers out of their well-earned wages – and then followed him to the same easel set-up as before.

“I guess you already know how this works!  Any preference on what pose I use?” Cody asked.

“Just whatever you’re comfortable with,” Obi-Wan responded.  He didn’t want Cody to push himself into a position that would hurt just for the sake of a measly picture, but he also didn’t want to assume he knew better than Cody what Cody’s limits were.

Obi-Wan arranged himself on the bench, Cody activated the paintbrush, and then he drew the sword he was still wearing and dropped into a dramatic, swashbuckling pose.

“Excellent!” Obi-Wan grinned at the dashing image Cody made.  “I have to say, it was very refreshing to see a show based on brotherly love rather than romantic love.  I sometimes feel society doesn’t always recognize how important other types of love are, so this was a welcome change.”

Perhaps it was just being part of an Order which forswore marriage, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but appreciate the unfortunately rare number of times people acknowledged the value of relationships and love outside of traditional romantic pairings.

“Thanks,” Cody responded, with the same touch of shyness as before at the compliment.  “The original thought was to do a more traditional romantic story, but then Rex and I were chosen as the leads, and well, we weren’t really comfortable acting out a romance together, even if it was just acting.  So that was when Ponds rewrote the script to make it brothers.”

“That was Rex playing your brother in the blue sash?” Obi-Wan checked, and at Cody’s nod added, “Please pass along my compliments to him.  You both were incredible, and I’m glad you were chosen as the leads in it.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him,” Cody promised.  “Our other siblings are great, too, and some of them are more comfortable acting out romances, so if you come to enough of our shows you’ll see some of them, too.”

“I hope I will,” Obi-Wan answered sincerely.  “And Ponds – they must be another of your siblings?”

“Ponds was our scriptwriter, and he did a lot of the broad strokes of our choreography, too, before we lost him,” Cody said, and Obi-Wan winced to hear the sorrow in Cody’s voice as he used the past tense.  That had clearly been a far more final parting than someone retiring to take up a new career.

Fae were long-lived, but they weren’t immortal, and they could be killed by any number of things.  

“I’m sorry,” he offered, wincing at the inadequacy of the sentiment.

“I still miss him,” Cody admitted quietly.  

Obi-Wan dearly wanted to give him a hug, but this wasn’t the time or place for it, so instead he suggested, “Tell me about your other siblings?”

“Sure,” Cody said, with a smile back on his face as if it had never left.  “So I mentioned Rex – he’s probably my closest brother and we hang out together pretty often when we’re not performing or practicing.  He was on the trapeze yesterday, and you probably saw him on the picture line with me afterwards, buried under that group of kids.  Then there’s Fox, who you just met; he runs the public-facing side of things, so tickets, security, that sort of thing.  He mostly doesn’t perform, but we manage to get him up on stage ever so often to keep his skills sharp.  Wolffe is another of my close brothers. He does most of the sets and props, including all the special effects like the waves and the shattering glass today.  Then there’s Iris – she writes all our music and plays the shawm – and Tooka – they led the unicyclists today and were one of the swimmers yesterday.  Oh, and Jet – he actually designed and choreographed the entire fire poi performance yesterday–”

“Poi?” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but break in.

“The lit balls?”  At Obi-Wan’s nod, he continued, “–and he’s also really good with a sword, so he was the one who knocked me overboard today.  Then there’s…”

As Cody happily chattered away, listing what had to be nearly every one of his siblings, Obi-Wan smiled and basked in the simple joy.  Every once in a while, he broke in with a question, which Cody was happy to answer if he could.  There were a few he couldn’t answer, which was fair – with sixty-three of his siblings actively involved in the circus, of course there would be some Cody was closer and not as close with.  Not to mention some details that were too private for Cody to share with someone who was, honestly, nearly a complete stranger.  Personal motivations for why some had joined the circus and some hadn’t, for example.  Colt was apparently one brother who had stayed with Nala Se for reasons Cody wasn’t comfortable disclosing, and Keeli had left just as the circus was really taking off, for unspecified personal reasons.  

Still, it was delightful to learn more about Cody’s family, and at Cody’s urging, Obi-Wan also began sharing stories of all his family in the Temple: Anakin, Ahsoka, Quinlan, Mace, Yoda, Luminara, Shaak, and so many more.  

Long before he could finish, the bell rang, and Obi-Wan suddenly realized how fast the time had flown.  The picture, when Cody showed him, was even more detailed than the last, and Obi-Wan had to wonder if perhaps Cody had instructed the paintbrush to give them some extra time to chat.  

Resolving to add a tip to Fox’s collection jar on his way out, Obi-Wan gave his regretful farewell to Cody.  It wouldn’t be fair to monopolize him any longer, not with how long the waiting line was, and especially given that Cody would, no doubt, appreciate the chance to sit down and take a break and get out of his costume and makeup at some point.  But if it was any consolation, Cody looked as disappointed to have Obi-Wan leave as Obi-Wan himself felt, so it was very easy for Obi-Wan to promise to return the next day.

Obi-Wan grimaced slightly as he walked away.  That had been an enjoyable conversation, and he hardly begrudged the chance to make a new friend, but it didn’t get him any closer to figuring out what his instincts were pinging on.  Cody seemed perfectly pleasant and he certainly seemed to be on good terms with his siblings.  Obi-Wan had been fooled before, but he didn’t think Cody was part of some nefarious secret plot.  And now that Cody knew Obi-Wan was a Jedi – and what a Jedi was – hopefully he would know he could mention it to Obi-Wan if there was anything that was putting Cody himself in danger.  

Well, Obi-Wan didn’t need to be back at the Temple at any particular time prior to tomorrow’s final strategy meeting for the week of Midsummer celebrations, so he could still do a little more investigating.  

Palpatine seemed to be a good place to start – why would someone order up nearly a hundred identical siblings grown from plants?  Had that request come before or after his decision to mold them into a circus?  

And for that matter, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder, what was the going rate to pay for their creation, never mind whatever other enchantments the witch had included to increase their strength, skill, and speed of growth?

As Obi-Wan approached the door to the backstage, hoping to perhaps find another of Cody’s siblings who’d be willing to carry a message, his thoughts were entirely derailed by the sight of Anakin stepping through the curtains as if he had every right to have been wandering around backstage.  

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, with perhaps a touch of reproach.  “I wish you had told me you were going to be here – I would have saved a seat for you.”  The bigger question, of course, was why Anakin hadn’t been at the training he was supposed to have been at.  It wasn’t technically necessary for him to have gone, as Ahsoka was the one actually interested in dual-wielding techniques, but as her Master, Obi-Wan had assumed Anakin would want to make a point of refreshing his own skills to continue Ahsoka’s training while they were out questing together.   

Anakin’s eyes widened in shock as Obi-Wan greeted him, but after a moment, he grinned.  “You should have told me, you mean.  Ringmaster Palpatine was kind enough to offer me a spot in the best seat in the house, on the house, during our chat yesterday.”

“That’s very kind of him,” Obi-Wan replied, debating whether he should give voice to his concerns.  There were some people who offered kindnesses to Jedi out of the goodness of their hearts, in recognition of the service the Jedi offered to the Kingdom.  There were others – many others – who did so in the hopes of getting something out of the Jedi.  Accepting such gifts could incur debts a Jedi could not, in good conscience, pay.  Debts such as a noble asking a Jedi to look the other way at their abuse of those they were sworn to protect, or a merchant hoping to encourage a ruling favorable to them in a trade dispute.  It was another reason why Obi-Wan had been careful to make sure he paid for the painting, even if Cody and Fox seemed willing to let him have it for free.  

Something ephemeral, like a show, could sometimes be less of an issue than a physical gift, but then again, at least a physical gift could be returned if necessary.

“Just be careful,” Obi-Wan finally sighed.  “You never know what someone might be after.”

“A bribe?!   Is that what you think, Master?” Anakin spat out, annoyed.  “Sheev is hardly the sort of person to do that, and anyway, don’t you trust my judgment?  Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan assured, then bit his tongue on the follow-up, but I’m not sure I trust you to think things through, especially once you’ve already made up your mind.   He still needed to have that proper discussion with Anakin, and maybe this was another thing that he could bring up at the same time, in a more appropriate venue than the middle of a – quite literal – circus.  

He still needed to do some more investigating of the circus, and perhaps especially one Sheev Palpatine, but right now, the higher priority was to get back to the Temple with Anakin and have that discussion before Anakin managed to find some other excuse to escape, or worse yet, was offered a quest that let him disappear from the Temple for the next half a year.  

“As long as we’re both here, let’s walk back together.  We can grab some food at Dex’s Tavern on the way back and do some catching up.  It’s been so long since I got the chance to hear what you’ve been up to.”

The bribe worked concerningly well, and Anakin lit up.  “Dex’s Tavern sounds great!  I haven’t been there in ages.  Let’s go!”

As Obi-Wan followed Anakin from the tent, he started making a mental list.  

Give Anakin yet another reminder talk about Jedi ethics.

Check in with Mace on the latest plans for the Midsummer celebrations.

And ask Librarian Jocasta and Shadow Tholme if either of them had any clues about why his bad feeling about this circus might be getting worse and worse.

Chapter Text

“24, report.”

“The Jedi is responsive and remains willing to talk.  He has so far shared some personal anecdotes of other Jedi Knights.  He may be willing to share additional information if I have more time to speak with him.”

“Good, good.  Yes, take whatever time you need to speak with him and befriend him.  In fact, seduce him.  He may be willing to share more information with a lover than a friend.  But remember your orders.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Chapter Text

Today’s performance was once again more of a traditional circus, with none of the previous day’s storyline, but Obi-Wan found it fascinating how it was still an entirely different show than the performance from the first day.  The acts were almost entirely different for one, with different costumes and tricks.  This show was also performed earlier in the day, and there were several large groups of children all oohing and aahing over each trick.  Perhaps because of their presence, each act was introduced by Ringmaster Palpatine with a brief explanation of what the performers would be doing and technical details about why the trick was particularly challenging or dangerous.  

Obi-Wan personally felt Palpatine should never be entrusted with talking with small children again, as he clearly had no idea what he was doing, but perhaps Obi-Wan was just letting his growing dislike for the man color his opinion.  Then again, if he was this bad with children, why had he ordered ninety-nine of them?

The bigger issue, of course, was Anakin.  In their brief chat on the way to Dex’s Tavern, Anakin had continued to express great admiration for Palpatine, along with a worrying lack of concern for the performers.  But before Obi-Wan had been able to properly sit him down and talk things out, Anakin had managed to wriggle out of it once more, claiming he desperately needed to get some things ready for the upcoming festival week.  

Maybe this just wasn’t meant to happen before the celebrations.  Anakin had offhandedly mentioned not sleeping well, which might explain, though not excuse, some of his poor judgment.  Obi-Wan would mention his concerns to Mace, who could make sure not to assign any quests to Anakin for a little while longer, and they could have that discussion after the Solstice when everything had calmed down a bit.

The performance was wonderful, of course, but other than a vague attempt to pick out Cody (doomed to fail when he was this far away and had no idea what costume Cody would be wearing), Obi-Wan couldn’t concentrate.  In addition to the question of Anakin, there were also all the final security details for the upcoming days of celebrations surrounding Midsummer, which meant he really needed to either figure out what was worrying him about this circus or stop wasting his time here.

Still, with the performance over, he couldn’t help but make a beeline straight to the painting line.  Beginning at one end, he started methodically walking down the line, hoping he’d either recognize Cody, or – more likely – Cody would recognize him.  There were several spells that would help him find Cody much more easily, but considering that they were generally intended for tracking criminals, it was unlikely Cody would be willing to let Obi-Wan cast one on him.  Plus, it seemed like at this point he should be able to recognize Cody without that.  

Yet after looking at every performer at every painting booth, Obi-Wan could not for the life of him tell which one was Cody.  

That probably meant his next step was to get in line, wait until he reached the head, and then hope that it was Fox on duty and he’d be willing to point Obi-Wan in the right direction.

But before he could do that, he felt a tap on his shoulder.  He whirled around, and there behind him, in a simple tunic and leggings, and with only the slightest hints of glittery blue and gold on the edges of his face where he hadn’t quite gotten all the make-up wiped off after the show, was Cody.  

“Cody!” he exclaimed with some relief.  “I’m glad you found me.”

Cody grinned.  “We trade around duties, to keep anyone from getting too bored.  After a couple of shows where I’m on the picture line, I get a couple of shows where I don’t have any duties afterwards at all.  Then starting next week I’ll be helping reset the sets and props between shows.  But today I’m totally free, so maybe we could have a longer chat?”

“That would be nice.”  Obi-Wan looked around at the crowd, clearly reluctant to leave as they were chattering away at each other.  “Do you have any suggestions where?”

Cody looked at him consideringly.  “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No – perks of being a Jedi.  Though if you put me on a tightrope I will fall off.”

Cody laughed, a beautiful sound.  “No tightropes, then.  But I think I have just the place.  Follow me.”

Cody led Obi-Wan through a staff-only curtain by the side of the stage, and then over to a several-story tower that looked very familiar.  It had been the tower Rex had been imprisoned in during the second show, while during the first and third there had been various acts that involved performers jumping off it.  

Behind the tower was a simple ladder going down the back of it, which Cody climbed up.  He didn’t stop at either of the mid-level landings, instead going all the way up to the roof of the tower.  Obi-Wan followed, a little slower and more carefully, but Jedi magic included a number of spells to slow one’s falling speed, so he wasn’t particularly worried.  

Besides, he didn’t think Cody would take him somewhere intentionally dangerous, though that didn’t preclude Cody not necessarily having a good sense of what someone not trained as a circus acrobat could or couldn’t do.

Obi-Wan reached the top and looked out over the circus, the tower’s roof being even higher than the curtain hiding the stage from view.  The roof here was round, perhaps a dozen feet across, and had a knee-high crenellated edge.  Cody was already sitting on the far side, his legs over the edge, looking out across the tent.

Everything looked very small and far away from this high up.  He could pick out dozens of bright spots of color throughout the crowd  –  probably Fox’s crew  –  along with all the many, many guests using the food stands, painting lines, and carnival games as excuses to linger just a little bit longer before they had to leave the magic of the circus behind them.

“Will it be a problem if anyone sees me up here?” Obi-Wan asked, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor and taking a seat with all of his limbs inside the crenellations.  

“I mean, we’re not really supposed to bring visitors backstage, but it’s not like people ever look up far enough to see us here.”  Still, Cody retreated from the edge of the roof and leaned back on his elbows in the center, looking up at the tent overhead.  Obi-Wan went over to join him, leaning back against the low wall surrounding the roof.

Even this high up, the tent roof was still higher, and Obi-Wan wondered what collection of spells was powerful enough to make that possible.  Next to him, Cody followed his gaze upward with something like longing in his face.  

“I sometimes come up here to feel closer to the sky,” he admitted quietly.  “I like to imagine I can feel the sun on my face, up here.”

Obi-Wan’s heart clenched in sympathy.  “Do you not get to go outside much?”

“Not really, no.  We have too much to do to get ready for the shows, so mostly when we do go out it’s after dark, which isn’t the same.  Fox sometimes teases that maybe since we were grown from plants then there’s some part of us that still wants to photosynthesize.”

“I’m sorry you don’t get that chance,” Obi-Wan said.  Ironic, that the rest of Faerie wanted to come to the circus to feel a part of the magic, while the performers themselves, or at least this one, just wanted to leave, even if only for a little while.  

Cody gave a half-hearted smile of agreement, then shook off his wistfulness.  “I’d rather talk about happier things with you,” he said decisively.  “It’s been really nice spending time with you these past few days, and I don’t want to waste it feeling sad about things that can’t change.”  Seeming to come to a decision, Cody pushed off the floor of the tower to crouch in front of Obi-Wan.  “May I kiss you?”

Obi-Wan tried not to show his surprise.  It felt a little abrupt, but he wasn’t averse to the idea.  “You may,” he breathed, and Cody leaned in.  The kiss was enthusiastic, if clearly unpracticed  –  Cody apparently wasn’t the type to have a lover in every town.  

A moment later, Cody leaned back, just as breathless as Obi-Wan.

“I want to kiss you again,” Cody told Obi-Wan, “and then I’m going to seduce you.”

That was moving a little faster than Obi-Wan was entirely comfortable with, though he wasn’t opposed to the idea in theory.  

Seduce.  Obi-Wan tried not to smile at the phrasing.  Given Cody’s apparent inexperience, he wondered if Cody was leaning on dialogue from one of the romantic plays in the circus’ repertoire.  It sounded like that kind of language.

Still, there were limitations on what Obi-Wan could commit to as a Jedi Knight that he ought to make sure Cody was aware of before their relationship got that serious.  A proper date or two first might be good, too.

But before they could get that far, or even to a second kiss, a voice  –  one of Cody’s brothers, though Obi-Wan couldn’t be entirely sure which  –  sounded from below.

“Cody!  Come on down!  You’re missing practice!”

Obi-Wan winced.  “I’m sorry to have taken you away from your duties, and I’d hate for you to get in trouble for bringing me up here.  Perhaps we should pick this up later?”

“Nah.”  Cody looked supremely unconcerned.  “It’s not an official practice session; this is just when I usually spar with Rex.”  He leaned over the edge of the roof to shout back, “I’m busy, Rex!  Go find someone else to spar with today!”

He turned back towards Obi-Wan with a dramatic eye-roll.  “We have more than 60 other siblings.  He can manage without me for one day.  Now where were we?”

Obi-Wan leaned away from Cody and took a concerned glance at the blond head pacing angrily below.  “I’m not sure it would be a good idea to start anything with your brother right there.  After having grown up with an entire Temple full of siblings, I’m pretty sure most of them would have adored climbing up here and catching me in an embarrassing position with someone, and just offhand, Rex seems like he might be the same type.”

Cody had retreated when Obi-Wan had, giving him some space, but he clearly didn’t share any of Obi-Wan’s concerns.  “No,” he said dismissively.  “Rex is afraid of heights, so there’s no way he’ll willingly come up this high outside of a performance, even for the chance to tease me.”

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding, until the actual meaning of the sentence registered and dismay made him freeze mid-nod.  “Correct me if I’m wrong, Cody, but in that first performance, didn’t you say Rex was on the trapeze team?  And escaping from the castle  –  didn’t that require him to climb down this tower and then later run across a tightrope?”

“Yes?” Cody answered, clearly not sure where Obi-Wan was going with this.

“Cody, if Rex is afraid of heights, why did he pick roles and acts that required him to be up this high?”

“Oh, he didn’t pick.  That was what he was assigned.  It doesn’t matter what acts we do or don’t want to do.”  

Obi-Wan felt his temper fraying at Cody’s relaxed tone.  “That is not appropriate behavior by whoever is making your assignments!”  Why could Cody not see that there was a problem?  If Rex had made the choice to try to overcome his fear of heights, well for one thing, it clearly hadn’t worked, but at least that would have been his own choice.  But for someone  –  Palpatine?  –  to have assigned Rex to multiple roles that involved so many high places, either unknowing or uncaring of Rex’s fear….

Obi-Wan sighed, and reined himself back in.  Cody had likely been with this circus since he was a few days old, however old he had been physically by that point.  How would he know what was and wasn’t considered appropriate, much less how that might differ between Winter and Summer?  Still, his heart ached for what Rex must be feeling every day flying through the air dozens of feet above solid ground.  “Cody, I know there must be many things tying Rex to this circus, but if Rex is being required to do things he’s not comfortable doing, why hasn’t he just left yet?”

Cody finally seemed to grasp Obi-Wan’s concern, but he just smiled sadly and said, “I can’t say.”

It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did, Obi-Wan’s blood ran cold.  

Why did Palpatine create you all?

I can’t say.

Why did Colt stay with Nala Se instead of joining the circus?

I can’t say.

Why hasn’t Rex left, when he’s asked to do things he doesn’t want to do?

I can’t say.

There were two options here.  One, Cody was very protective of his siblings’ privacy.  Two, Cody literally couldn’t say.

As a Jedi, Obi-Wan was extremely well-versed in all the different types of Dark Magic he might run across in the course of his duties.  One of the absolute worst, in his opinion, was a geas.   A spell to murder someone just killed them, and then they were dead.  Awful, certainly, and yet….  A geas made the person it was cast on required to obey every order from the caster.  The caster could order them to do anything, up to and including murdering others or themselves.  Even once they were freed  –  if they were ever freed  –  they’d have to live with what they had been ordered to do.

And traditionally, one of the very first orders a caster would give would be to forbid the subject to ever speak of the geas.   The second was to report back if ever someone recognized the presence of the geas.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said brightly, trying very hard not to let any of his sudden horror show on his face, “I’m sorry for getting frustrated.  I’d much rather spend our time together enjoying ourselves.  Now I was thinking: before we get to any seductions, I’d love to take you on an official date.  I could show you around the town during the daytime.  There are some lovely gardens in the Temple that I think you’d really enjoy the chance to bask in.”

Rather more importantly, inside the Temple were several extremely sophisticated chambers enchanted to identify and break any spells present on anyone inside of them.  If Obi-Wan was being paranoid, there’d be no harm done.  Cody might think it a strange first date, but if he was the kind of person Obi-Wan thought he was, he’d understand why, having thought of the possibility of a geas, Obi-Wan had to check before they went any further.

If he wasn’t that kind of person, well, better to know sooner rather than later.  

Because if Cody were under a geas,   Obi-Wan couldn’t trust a single word he’d said.  Anything at all could have been something he had been ordered to do or say.  Cody might not have actually wanted to kiss him.  Cody might not even like him  –  there would be no way to know until the spell was broken and they could confirm Cody was actually acting out of his own free will again.

Obi-Wan tried not to hold his breath as he waited for Cody’s response.

But Cody was already shaking his head no.  “I can’t.  It’s safer for us to stay inside the tent between shows.  We’re not supposed to go out and risk getting into trouble, especially not with so many performances going on because of the Midsummer celebrations.”

“You’re sure I can’t talk you into heading out anyway?” Obi-Wan wheedled.  “Just for a little while?  You could hardly get in trouble looking at some gardens, and you said earlier you had some free time.”

“I can’t.”

Obi-Wan sighed.  “You can’t join me on a date, you can’t answer questions.  Is there anything at all you can tell me?”

It wasn’t fair of him to get frustrated.  Either Cody wasn’t bespelled and thus had no idea why Obi-Wan had suddenly gotten worried, or Cody was and he had no choice whatsoever about obeying his orders, however much he might want to do otherwise.

Yet knowing that didn’t help ease his annoyance when Cody brightened into his “announcer” voice: “The Circus Fantastica is honored to have been chosen for a special performance for the Summer Queen in honor of the Summer Solstice!  In this dramatic retelling of the Legend of the Court Jester, you will be astonished and delighted by daring swordplay and side-splitting humor.  Come one, come all, and enjoy the show!”

Obi-Wan sighed.  He did not need another reminder of that performance  –  not after the multiple hours of meetings he’d sat through over the past week as the Royal Guard planned security for it.

This wasn’t going to get him anywhere and he needed to leave before he let Cody talk him into something ill-advised.  He could already see Cody opening his mouth, likely to offer that they entertain themselves here instead.  “I’m sorry, Cody,” he broke in hurriedly, “but I really shouldn’t stay any longer.  I have meetings I need to get back to, but maybe I can see you again before you leave and we can pick this up again then?”

“Sure,” Cody gave a decent attempt at a smile.  “I’ll see you then.”

And Obi-Wan made himself turn and climb down the ladder.

 –  –  – 

Back at the Temple, Obi-Wan dithered briefly; the security meeting was coming up quickly, but he should still have enough time to go see if Madame Nu had found anything useful in the Temple records.  

Obi-Wan’s mood was not improved as he walked in only to be greeted by the unfortunately familiar sounds of a frustrated Anakin.  

Anakin was still too far away for Obi-Wan to make out his words, but as Obi-Wan walked closer to the stacks he guessed Anakin’s voice was coming from, he heard Jocasta reply with strained patience, “As I’ve told you, Knight Skywalker, that information is too dangerous to be authorized for anyone less than a Jedi Master.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan asked as he rounded the last corner and could finally look down the shelves covering the range from flowers for use in potions of levitation to hamadryads willing to assist stranded Jedi for a night.   As he had guessed, there indeed were Anakin and Jocasta, almost nose to nose.  “If there’s something in particular from the restricted shelves you’re looking for, Anakin, perhaps I can help?  If you let me know what you need, maybe I can put in a request for it as a Jedi Master.”

Or maybe not.  It would depend on the information, and why Anakin needed it.  If something was that thoroughly restricted, there was probably a reason for it.  At least 90% of materials in that category were Dark Magic, kept around only in case that information proved critical in combating it at some future date.  After the last few days, that wasn’t something Obi-Wan was inclined to risk sharing with Anakin, especially not until they actually got to sit down together for a proper talk.  Still, nearly all Knights, Obi-Wan included, went through a stage where they were convinced all the answers to their problems were hidden in those secret archives.  It usually took working through their difficulties with a Master before they realized that half the answers they were looking for were in the regular collection, free for the finding, and the other half weren’t ones that could be found in any book or scroll anywhere, and needed to instead be discovered by oneself.  

Obi-Wan smiled gently at Anakin, silently encouraging him to admit whatever was worrying him and ask for help.  

Anakin started to open his mouth, then turned away and shook his head.  “It wasn’t anything important.  I’m sorry for wasting your time, Librarian Nu.  Was there something you were coming to ask her, Master?”

This wasn’t the best time for it, but it didn’t look like Anakin was going to open up about his actual concerns, so Obi-Wan finally said, “I asked you the other day if there were any records that mentioned anything about the circus’ history, or the story I told you of the witch Nala Se?”

“About Nala Se, nothing I’ve been able to discover yet; even my sources and library assistants take time to do their research.  As for the circus….”  She sighed, heavily.  “Either that circus has the worst luck in Faerie, or something is very wrong.  All along its path have been dozens and dozens of strange reports: alleged curses, thefts, even a few suspicious deaths of varying sorts.  Put together, it’s quite the pattern.”

“But how many of those are just excuses?” Obi-Wan countered.  “Blaming a traveling group for no other reason than that they’re outsiders is a very long tradition, with few options for the accused to prove their innocence, even if they aren’t already long gone by the time the crime is blamed on them.”

“I know,” Jocasta assured him gently.  “And, yes, it’s very likely that a decent proportion of these claims are either entirely spurious or looking for a scapegoat to blame in lieu of the effort of a real investigation, and I’ve already suggested any Jedi who can be spared be tasked with investigating these claims and discovering the truth of the matter.  Some of them…” she rolled her eyes.  “A tree can stop bearing fruit or a cow stop giving milk without it being an evil plot!  And the one case where a town claims to have made an arrest for an attempted assassination….  Reading that so-called report of that so-called attempt I can only conclude the writer was thoroughly drunk.  No theater group would ever dare perform a comedy of errors like that even as a farce or they’d be laughed out of town!  From everything I’ve heard about this circus, if they were trying to commit a crime like that they’d do a much better job.”  Jocasta’s voice rang with conviction, and Obi-Wan had to smother a smile; she always had felt unprofessionalism was a greater crime than any other.  

A moment later Jocasta softened as she finished, “But I’ve compared these reports to those of other traveling groups, and while the evidence is circumstantial, there’s still a high chance this circus is responsible for at least some of these crimes.”

“I told you, Master!” Anakin burst out with grim vindication.  “They’re Winter, and nothing good can ever come from Winter!  Poor Palpatine, someone will have to tell him that he’s been too trusting of their ability to change.”

“Anakin!”  How had Obi-Wan missed that it was this bad?

At the same moment, Jocasta reared back as if slapped and then stepped forward with a furious, “Knight Skywalker!”

“Oh, come on!” Anakin said contemptuously.  “I grew up on the borders of Winter.  I’ve actually seen them, up close and personal, not like you two.  And Librarian Nu said it herself  –  the records show they’ve been committing crimes in every city they’ve stopped.  It’s only a matter of time before they start in here, and when the Temple gets stripped bare don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“And while you leap to appallingly stereotyped conclusions about the performers, why are you so quick to assume Palpatine must be blameless?” Obi-Wan demanded back, but it was too late.  Anakin had walked away from him, in what was becoming a depressingly familiar routine.  

He debated running after Anakin, but then glanced at the clock on the wall and blanched at the time.  He turned back to Jocasta with an apology on his lips, but she knew how busy this time of year got as well as anyone and simply waved him off.

Obi-Wan nodded his gratitude, then hurried through the Temple to make it to the final security briefing.  Most of the security for the various celebrations and assorted festivities would be handled by the town watch, with some supplementing by the Royal Guard.  They’d already been busy for weeks now, as the town began to fill up in preparation for the official week of celebrations around the Solstice.  

Obi-Wan suddenly thought to wonder where they’d decided to put all the market stalls from the various vendors selling their wares for the festival, considering that the Market Square was currently entirely full of circus tent.

That wasn’t his responsibility to figure out, however, thank Summer.  No, the Jedi took a much more ceremonial role, assisting in security at only a handful of special events that the Queen had chosen to make an appearance at, supporting her personal Guard.  Tomorrow, the Queen was planning to preside at the sacred songs at dawn, a glass blowing demonstration in the morning, the unveiling of a new Healer’s College at lunch, the performance of the Circus Fantastica in the afternoon, and finally the first Summer Banquet at the palace in the evening.  After that would be two days largely filled with the Royal Family judging competitions  –  everything from athletics to crafts to magical skill.  Then would come the Solstice itself, with a full day of rituals and ceremonies.  The final three days of the celebrations would be quieter, with more crafting demonstrations, performances, and petitions to the Royal Court.

The details had long since been set; now it was just a matter of running through them all one last time to make sure everyone was ready and remembered their assigned locations.  

The meeting hall was packed to the brim with nearly every Knight in the Temple.  Anakin was still clearly cross and refused to look at Obi-Wan, but at least that meant he was staring fixedly at the maps instead.  It was an uncharitable thought, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but hope Anakin remembered that it would only be Knights and above guarding the Queen, and so Anakin couldn’t rely on Ahsoka to remember the fine details of their instructions for him.

Between who was on guard duty when, where each Knight was supposed to stand at each ceremony, and what the proper procedures were if any of three dozen possible things went wrong, there frankly was a lot to remember.  Still, it never changed all that much from year to year  –  oh, this year was a glass blowing demonstration and last year it had been the unveiling of a new tapestry, and the year before that a unicorn dressage demonstration, but the broad strokes of standing behind the Queen and keeping an eye out for anyone intending to harm her or the gathered crowds were always consistent.  

The meeting finally ended an interminable time later, and for just a moment Obi-Wan debated making a dash for Anakin before he could escape Obi-Wan yet again.  But then Plo asked him a question, and in his moment of distraction Anakin vanished out the door.  Obi-Wan sighed, and reminded himself that it wouldn’t help to talk before Anakin was actually ready for the conversation.  

He answered two questions from Plo about the hand-off between shifts, and three more from Mace about the contingencies for inclement weather during the outdoor competitions, and then stood there, staring at the town map.  

He was missing something, he knew it.

Still, better to start from the beginning, and perhaps talking it over with the rest of the group would help.

“Mace, Shaak, Plo, Depa, Luminara,” he looked around at the handful of Knights who were still lingering as they discussed the morrow.  “I had a very odd conversation earlier this afternoon.  At the moment, this is all pure conjecture, with no actual evidence, which is why I didn’t bring it up during the meeting.  But I think there is a chance the Ringmaster of the Circus Fantastica is a Dark Magic Practitioner who has his performers under a geas and is using them to commit thefts and other crimes.”

Every head whipped around as the other Knights stared at him in shock.  

“Explain.” The command came from too many voices to identify.

So Obi-Wan did, starting with his first meeting with Cody and culminating with their strange conversation earlier that afternoon.  

Laying it out, though, it suddenly felt like such a pitiful chain of logic.  So Cody was careful about his brothers’ privacy.  So what?  That was entirely fair.  So he didn’t know all the answers to Obi-Wan’s questions.  Why should Obi-Wan expect him to, especially when he had pried past the point of polite conversation?  

“It’s not much,” he admitted as he finished.  “Like I said, not worth a general meeting for.  And yet, now that I’ve thought of the possibility, I can’t just ignore it.  There has to be some way to determine whether there’s any truth to it or not, and free Cody and his siblings if there is.”

Depa shook her head gently, “You can stop worrying, Obi-Wan.  You’re right that it does seem somewhat suspicious, but it wouldn’t be possible for anyone, no matter how powerful, to keep an entire circus full of performers under a geas.   Because a geas is in direct opposition to a being’s own sense of self-determination, our own internal magic will instinctively resist.  It’s why it’s harder to successfully cast a geas on someone with the potential to be a mage than someone without.  That also means there’s a constant magic requirement to keep the spell going.  I’ve heard of Dark Mages who could keep two or three people under a geas at once, and there are legends of one who managed seven, but several dozen is far beyond the bounds of plausibility.”

Obi-Wan breathed out a sigh of relief.  That didn’t solve all the problems, unfortunately.  In fact, it opened up a new one if it meant Cody was likely a willing participant in that string of crimes Jocasta had mentioned.  Still, if it meant there wasn’t a massively dangerous Dark Mage enslaving Cody and all his siblings, he’d take it.

The other Jedi were turning to walk out of the room when a new realization froze Obi-Wan to the bone, and he desperately croaked out, “Wait!”

“You thought of something?” Luminara asked.

“Depa,” Obi-Wan made himself say, “you said our internal magic instinctively resists the control of a geas.”

“Yes?” Depa answered with only a trace of confusion.

“But if I’m remembering my Magical Theory classes correctly, we aren’t born with our internal magic fully formed; it only develops with our growing sense of self.  So what would happen if you cast a geas on an infant?”

Her eyebrows shot up.  “I suppose then the magical requirements to cast the spell would be much smaller, as they wouldn’t have to overcome that instinctive resistance, and one could therefore cast the spell on more people at once.  But I can’t think of any occasions anyone has actually tested that, because – the sheer evilness of such an act aside – what would be the use of having a geas on an infant?  One couldn’t even use it to force the child to stop crying as a geas only functions when the target understands the caster’s words.  There’d be no point.”

“And if the infants were then subject to a spell that made them grow up in days instead of years?”

Everyone in the room froze.  

“Cody told me he and his siblings were grown from flowers and a hunter’s hairs at Palpatine’s request, and then were the target of growth spells to age them quickly.  The reason why Palpatine asked for them was one of the pieces of information Cody couldn’t speak about.  But what if Palpatine cast the geasa the moment they were all born?  They might not even remember it had happened.  Then, as they grew, the spell would grow with them  –  likely making it such an integral part of them that their own magic would never recognize it as foreign or attempt to shake it off.”

And now that Obi-Wan had made that connection, others were starting to snap into place, too.  All those impressive magical feats, that were far too large for one person alone, for example.  Casting magical spells jointly was a challenge at the best of times.  That same instinctive resistance to being controlled by external magic also made it hard for mages to share their magic with another caster for a joint spell.  Jedi started training the moment they became pages and trusted each other unconditionally, and yet it still was a constant struggle to give up control of one’s magic even for the length of a single spell.

In a case like this, though….  The fact that all the siblings were patterned after a single person might help or might not  –  Obi-Wan hadn’t spent enough time yet with any of Cody’s other siblings to get a sense for the degree to which their magic was in sync or not.  But that wouldn’t matter if Palpatine simply ordered them to share it with each other  –  or with him.  

Obi-Wan had once read a very harrowing report of someone using a geas to order their victim to simply stop breathing.  If Quinlan hadn’t been able to use his psychometry on the victim’s corpse, no one would have ever known he had been murdered.  

In comparison, ordering someone to simply give up all control of their magic would be downright easy.  

“That changes things,” Mace said gravely after he’d had a few moments to think through the implications.  “We’re going to need to get at least one of the performers under a diagnostic spell to determine for sure whether or not there’s a geas involved here.  But until we can manage that, there’s still another question: what purpose would Palpatine have in doing this?”

Obi-Wan hesitated.  Theft would certainly be plausible as a motivation.  Over the course of the past week, Obi-Wan suspected he had seen a noticeable fraction of the entire Summer Realm’s wealth go by in breathtaking jewelry, fancy outfits, fine steeds, and powerful magic items.  Cody’s siblings were all physically skilled in a wide variety of ways, and obtaining some of those valuables via pickpocketing or breaking and entering would no doubt be entirely within their capabilities.  

And yet, as a grand master plan went, it still seemed somewhat… limited.  Surely there were less complicated methods of getting rich than ordering up a hundred children from a witch and training them as a circus.  Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think any thefts were more opportunism than Palpatine’s ultimate goal.

If only Cody could have explained what was really going on!

Unless… maybe he had.  

Obi-Wan had asked Cody what Cody was able to tell him, and in response, Cody had talked about the circus performing for Queen Breha.  In fact, if Obi-Wan remembered correctly, Cody had even specifically highlighted their “daring swordplay.”  And Jocasta had mentioned suspicious deaths.  Put that all together….

“I think Palpatine is planning to assassinate the Queen during the performance tomorrow,” he said hoarsely.  

That naturally led to a second round of demands for an explanation, with a similar result.

“It’s possible,” Plo finally said.  “Perhaps even plausible.  But it is still a very tenuous chain of logic  –  too tenuous, I think, for the Queen to be willing to cancel the performance because of it.”

“We can’t just ignore it!” Shaak burst out.

“And I’m not suggesting we do so,” Plo answered.  “But we need to consider what steps we can take.”

“Making sure more Knights are present, certainly,” Shaak suggested.  “When we explain the situation, some of the morning-shift Knights may be willing to stay on through the afternoon and be there for the performance.  Myself, for example.”

“And me,” Obi-Wan added.  “And even if the Queen isn’t willing to cancel the performance altogether, maybe she’d be willing to limit how many guests will be joining her for it once we explain the potential threat?”

Mace nodded thoughtfully.  “Some of her detractors will no doubt use that as an excuse to claim she’s distancing herself from the common people, but the rest of the week’s agenda should make it clear that’s not the case.”

“It seems like the most important preparation we should make is some way to break the geas,” Luminara said.  “It is possible that after years of obeying orders, the performers may continue to do so even after they are no longer compelled, out of loyalty to Palpatine or simple habit.  Still, if there is any chance they might choose otherwise, far better for us to be dealing with one threat than dozens.  Depa, are there any spells designed to break a geas?”

“Not that I’m aware of, and we don’t have enough time to create an entirely new one before tomorrow,” Depa answered, regret clear in every line of her body.

“Surely there’s some way of ending a geas!” Obi-Wan interrupted in shock.

“Historically, I gather, people tend to go with the most traditional method,” Depa offered, and then at Obi-Wan’s questioning glance added, “Nearly every spell ends when its caster dies, and geasa aren’t exceptions to that rule.  However, that doesn’t help us, as we have a responsibility not to jump to murder as a first resort.”

Obi-Wan nodded, as did the rest of the group  –  they were Jedi Knights, not judges, juries, and executioners.  

“Instead,” Depa continued, “I think we’ll have to use a general counterspell.  There are some that are powerful enough to break even a geas.   The catch is, however, that since it won’t be targeted to the geasa alone, it will break every spell in the area.”

Mace considered that for a moment.  “I hardly care about offending the vainer courtiers if our counterspell reveals just how many glamour charms they insist on using.  But I don’t know how many spells are required to maintain the circus, and in particular how many might be necessary to keep the performers safe during their tricks.  I would hesitate to cast a general counterspell too early and risk the performers’ lives as their protection vanished unexpectedly.”

“Then we have to wait until we know if they’re attacking or not, and cast it then,” Obi-Wan concluded.  “So we should start by spreading the word to as many people as we can without causing a mass panic, and then, Depa, can you get us all copies of the counterspell you have in mind so we can make sure we have it memorized for tomorrow?”

“Of course, Obi-Wan.”

“I’ll speak to the Queen, and Plo can take the officers in the Royal Guard,” Mace said.

“And Luminara and I will talk to as many Knights as we can find,” Shaak added.

“Thank you all, for being willing to believe me,” Obi-Wan said.  “And may Summer’s blessing be upon us all.”

Chapter Text

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Then take your places.”

Chapter Text

By dawn the next morning, Obi-Wan was already exhausted.  Not by choice certainly; after getting the directions for the counterspell copied and distributed, and making sure he himself had it memorized, he’d attempted to get at least a few hours’ good sleep.  But he’d spent the brief night hours tossing and turning, occasionally falling into fitful sleep only to be awoken moments later by dreams in which Cody killed him, or he was forced to kill Cody, or they killed each other simultaneously while Queen Breha bled out in the background.  

Getting up three hours before dawn to stand guard over the grove where the Queen would preside over the sacred songs had ultimately been a relief.  

Now the ceremony was almost halfway through, with not the slightest hint of anything going wrong, but that hadn’t helped Obi-Wan relax in the slightest.  Palpatine could have thought that attacking during the performance would be too obvious, and instead planned an attack earlier in the day.  There were also plenty of more mundane risks  –  there was a reason the Queen traveled with Guards when she left the palace after all, and that was despite her being a powerful sorceress in her own right.  

Yet ultimately not a single threat materialized during the dawn ceremony.  

The glass blowing went similarly uneventfully, with the guards’ only task being to keep curious children far enough away from the molten glass for safety’s sake.

As the group processed towards the new Healer’s College, Anakin fell into step beside Obi-Wan.  He looked nearly as tense as Obi-Wan felt, but still managed a smile as he asked, “Ready to take your break?”  

“Not today, I’m afraid.  Did Shaak or Luminara fill you in last night?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t at the Temple last night.  Fill me in about what?”

“We think there may be an assassination attempt against the Queen today.”

Anakin’s even pace stuttered as he lost a step in his shock.  A moment later, though, his steps firmed and he looked back at Obi-Wan with the rakish grin Obi-Wan remembered so fondly from Anakin’s days as his squire.  “With both of us together, any attackers don’t stand a chance!”

Even after their recent struggles, his confidence was heartening.  All too soon, though, the carefully choreographed guard arrangements pulled them apart again, and Obi-Wan took his place two steps back and to the left of Queen Breha as she was escorted to a gilded throne in front of the imposing carved doors of the Healer’s College.  A slightly smaller throne across the corded off entry way was offered to Lady Padme and Anakin offered her a courtly bow as he assisted her up the steps to it.

Then the speeches began.

Obi-Wan had nothing against a new Healer’s College.  Healing magic was both valuable and complex, and always in demand.  Just within the Temple, Obi-Wan knew of three Knights and a double handful of Squires who were planning to attend classes at the College as soon as it opened, and another couple Jedi Masters who were planning to take sabbaticals as teachers.  But none of that explained why every courtier in Coruscant had decided it was their solemn duty to babble on interminably about the value of a good education.  

At least the Queen and Lady were being offered various flowery pastries and confections as something vaguely resembling lunch.  Obi-Wan would have to sneak some travel rations once they were on the move again and he could disappear back into the mass of guards.  Or maybe it would be safer not to, with the mass of nerves currently making up his stomach as the tension ratcheted higher and higher.

Finally, finally, after a time that was much too long  –  and yet also far too short, considering what Obi-Wan suspected the next few hours would bring  –  the speeches were done, the Queen and Lady ceremonially cut the ribbon in front of the doors, and the College was opened.  

Then came the procession back to the palace, and then the last details before the performance.

The Queen and Lady disappeared into their chambers to change outfits for the afternoon  –  and, no doubt, to have a few moments to themselves before the afternoon’s pomp  –  which gave Obi-Wan a little time to check on the set-up for the performance.

Very early on it had been decided that the show would be held at the palace, and now a large courtyard had been given over to the members of the Circus Fantastica to prepare.  

On one end stood the Summer Queen’s throne, flanked by slightly smaller chairs for the Summer Lady and Summer Prince Consort.  Surrounding them, spilling out along both sides of the courtyard and underneath the colonnades encircling the courtyard, were less ornate chairs for the other guests.  

On the far side of the courtyard loomed the stone tower from the circus tent, and Obi-Wan wondered how many of Cody’s siblings’ magic it had taken to teleport it here for the day.  Curtains on either side of the tower shielded the backstage, while also setting the scene.  One side was painted with massive stone blocks, with a throne set up in front of it in nearly mirror image (Obi-Wan wondered whether it was intentional or not) of their audience.

The other curtain was painted up as a forest, with trees Obi-Wan had only ever read descriptions of in annals of Jedi who had traveled through Winter.  Downstage from it was a thicket of poles, ranging from a dozen feet high to half again that much, all about an arm span apart.  

For a moment, Obi-Wan was intensely curious what act was meant to be performed on the poles, but it was snuffed out as he noticed Mace approaching, a grim look on his face.

“The Queen is aware of the threat,” he spoke without preamble, as soon as he was within range for a low-voiced conversation.  “She’s uninvited all the servants, pages, and other assorted palace children with the promise of a performance just for them tomorrow.”

At Mace’s words, Obi-Wan looked back at the courtyard’s setup with new eyes.  The center of the courtyard was grass  –  it would have made a prime seating area for the horde of children who spent time at the castle for one reason or another.  Hopefully it wouldn’t seem too strange to Palpatine to instead have that extra space to perform in, and if worse came to worst, the children at least would be spared.  

“Unfortunately, doing the same for the visiting nobles would be a diplomatic disaster, but at least they should help disguise the number of Knights present.  As per standard protocol, we’ve inspected the tower, equipment, props, and performers, and found nothing out of the ordinary.  All the weapons are unsharpened props and there aren’t any secret compartments hiding armies of assassins waiting to leap out and attack.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean much if the performers themselves are weapons and they have the levels of magic at their disposal you’ve surmised.”

But then there was no more time to talk, as the doors opened and courtiers began filing in and taking their seats.  Mace took his place by the Queen’s throne, with Anakin, Yoda, and the other Knights who had been officially scheduled to stand guard during the show.  Obi-Wan, Shaak, and the others who weren’t technically supposed to be present lurked around the edges of the courtyard; the shadows of the colonnade disguising both their presence and that of any more nefarious threats.  

Moments later, the Herald’s trumpet blew and everyone stood and bowed as the Royal Family  –  Queen, Prince Consort, and Lady  –  entered.  The Queen sat, giving everyone else (save those on guard, of course) permission to follow suit, and then the show began.

It started simply enough, with one of Cody’s siblings (Obi-Wan didn’t think it was Cody or Rex, but that didn’t narrow it down much) coming out in a jester’s outfit to welcome the audience and introduce the show through song and dance, supplemented by a brief narration giving background information.  Apparently a usurper had taken over the Winter Kingdom by dint of slaughtering the entire royal family, leaving only a single infant left alive.  (Which made Obi-Wan curious  –  was this based on a true story from Winter’s history, or mere drama?  Perhaps Jocasta would know.)  At any rate, loyalists, under the command of a dramatic figure named the Black Fox, were attempting to oust the usurper and put the infant on the throne instead.  Considering the show had been billed as a comedy rather than a tragedy, and what that implied about which side would be victorious in the end, Obi-Wan had to wonder at the irony of choosing this particular performance, particularly once Palpatine was revealed to be playing the usurping would-be king.  

With the introductory elements done, the play began properly, with the usurper discovering the rebellion was not as defeated as he had hoped and debating the best course of action with his advisors.  Obi-Wan jumped as one of his advisors  –  Cody!  That one was Cody, with Rex beside him!  –  drew his sword on another.  But a moment later it became clear this was part of the play, and not the opening salvo of the assassination attempt, as the usurping king, Palpatine, ordered them to put down their swords and work together, and the scene concluded.

The lights dimmed on the mock throne room and rose on the poles, now with a touch of illusion indicating they were supposed to represent a forest.  Obi-Wan finally learned what they were for, as a dozen performers sang about being the Black Fox while performing dramatic feats of acrobatics as they climbed up and down the poles, culminating in jumping between poles half a dozen feet away.

The plot sped up from there, with the leader of the singers revealed not to be the Black Fox, but instead the jester from the introduction playing dress-up, before the real Black Fox sent him on a mission to take the infant king to safety.

It seemed like an interesting tale, but Obi-Wan doubted he’d have been able to immerse himself in it even if he hadn’t been standing guard, given the level of tension coiling tightly in his gut.  Every sharp movement made him jump, and his eyes roamed back and forth around the edges of the courtyard, as he wondered just what those not on stage at the moment might be getting up to.  

In the end, the threat didn’t come from the stage, and the immediate threat didn’t even come from the shadowy corners around the stage.  

Obi-Wan looked across the room to check that Anakin was still paying attention, but as his gaze passed over the royal throne his face paled and his eyes widened. The Queen was chalk-white and dazed-looking, and even as he opened his mouth, she slumped over in her chair, not breathing.  Beside her, Prince Bail wasn’t looking much better.

“The Queen!” bellowed Obi-Wan in the loudest voice he could muster, and all hell broke loose.

Palpatine, realizing he had been made, eschewed any further subtlety.  From the mock throne he called out to the performers, “Deal with the guards!”  Cody’s siblings spilled out from everywhere  –  not just the stage and backstage, as others had clearly been stealthily making their way all around the area, some popping up from behind chairs while others dropped down from where they had apparently been clinging to the ceiling of the colonnade.  

Unexpected, it would have been an instant massacre, yet Obi-Wan’s  –  Cody’s  –  warning had been just enough.  All around the courtyard Jedi stepped forward and pulled out their lightsabers, ready to guard the Royal family with their lives.  

Yoda and Luminara were the only two who didn’t, as they bent forward over the Queen and Prince to determine precisely what had been done to them and do their best to reverse it.

The performers-turned-assassins prowled forward, each with a drawn sword Obi-Wan suspected was now far more deadly than they had appeared during the official inspection.  Equally importantly, swords weren’t their only weapons.  As Obi-Wan stalked forward, about to demand Palpatine surrender, Cody and every one of his siblings raised their off hands.  In each was a ball, the size of an apple, but a sickly, poisonous green.  

Obi-Wan stared, horrified, into Cody’s blank face.  There was no life in Cody’s eyes, not a hint of recognition on his face.  With no more expression than if he were tossing a tunic in a wash pile, he threw the ball straight at Obi-Wan.  Obi-Wan ducked, but it didn’t matter.  The moment the ball hit the ground it started hissing out a poisonous-looking green smoke.  Every other ball had been thrown simultaneously, and wherever they had landed they were doing the same thing.  

Instantly, Obi-Wan threw up a spell to protect himself from whatever the smoke was meant to do.  Around the courtyard, the other Jedi were doing the same thing, but the courtiers weren’t so lucky.  The moment their own protection spells had gone up, the Jedi switched to casting larger shields, or spells to call the wind, but it wasn’t fast enough.  Every courtier, nearly all of the regular Royal Guards, and even a few of the Jedi who hadn’t reacted quickly enough, slumped to the ground in heaps.  

Keeping his eyes trained on Cody stalking towards him, Obi-Wan sidestepped over to the nearest fallen figure  –  a Pantoran with an elaborate headdress  –  and checked their pulse.  His eyes widened momentarily in surprise when he found it, strong and steady.  He forced his expression back into neutrality, but his heart leapt.  Cody and his siblings might have to obey the letter of their orders, but not the spirit of them.  Yet that protection would last precisely as long as it took Palpatine to realize he hadn’t actually ordered them to kill everyone, and not an instant longer.  

There was no more time for introspection, as everyone who hadn’t fallen to the sleeping potion still qualified as needing to be “dealt with,” and Cody’s siblings raised their swords and moved in.  Cody himself faced Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan called on his lightsaber, and the brilliant blue blade burst forth.  He drew it up in a careful guard position, and waited to see what Cody would do.  Cody feinted, then struck properly.  But Obi-Wan was a master of defensive combat and parried easily.  As their blades locked together, he stared at the place where they connected.  Obi-Wan wondered what spells had been used to enhance Cody’s blade.  As he had both hoped and feared, it was holding strong against Obi-Wan’s lightsaber.  Normally a thin metal blade  –  never mind one that wasn’t even supposed to be an actual weapon –  would have been sheared straight through, Obi-Wan’s blade continuing onward in its arc to head straight toward Cody’s neck.  And yet Cody’s blade was holding strong, with not so much as a nick in the metal or a hint of overheating.

At least Cody wouldn’t die from an errant strike of Obi-Wan’s when his blade failed him, but that said nothing for Obi-Wan’s chances of getting out of this alive.

Cody pulled back, eying him briefly as he took Obi-Wan’s measure, and then attacked in earnest.  Obi-Wan gave himself over to the familiar dance of blocking and parrying.  Strangely, he considered after a few minutes of back-and-forth, it felt surprisingly like a friendly spar at the Temple.  Obi-Wan had stumbled, briefly, on the uneven grass of the courtyard.  Yet Cody hadn’t sprung forward to instantly skewer him in his moment of distraction.  As for himself, the only openings Cody had left in his own guard would have left Obi-Wan too far open himself to take advantage of.  He could have, should have, taken one and just made sure his strike was lethal so that Cody would be dead before he had the chance to retaliate.  And yet so far he hadn’t managed to bring himself to do so.

He was grateful, of course, that Cody didn’t seem desperate to kill him at the moment, and yet he knew it wouldn’t last.  For now, Cody was “dealing with him” by keeping him occupied and preventing him from going to the Queen’s aid, but it was unlikely Palpatine would let that stalemate continue for long.  He needed a better solution to take Cody  –  and all his other siblings  –  out of the action before then.  

Rescue came in the form of a typically dramatic Anakin Skywalker entrance.  

With the ease of long practice, Obi-Wan slipped out of combat with Cody and Anakin took his place.  Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, wanting to call out “Don’t hurt him!”, but he didn’t even know which of them he’d be addressing that to.  Both, he supposed, but Cody couldn’t listen to the plea, and with Rex already approaching to join the battle beside Cody, he didn’t dare distract Anakin.

Besides, he had a bigger concern.  

Obi-Wan slipped through the dozens of duels taking place across the room, as the Jedi fought desperately to keep the performers away from the Queen.  At their feet, he could see the sleeping figures of those who hadn’t been able to defend themselves against the enchanted smoke that was still lurking in the corners of the courtyard where the wind hadn’t yet swept it away.  As the combatants gained and lost ground, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of Lady Padme.  She had likely been caught by the edges of whatever effect had struck down the Queen and Prince, for she wasn’t moving with her usual grace, but she was still making it very clear why she was considered one of the preeminent duelists in the Palace.

Finally Obi-Wan reached the Queen.  Grandmaster Yoda was bent over her, hand on her heart, and Obi-Wan heaved a sigh of relief to see her chest was rising and falling.  Next to them, Mace had joined Luminara and they were both bent over the Prince.

“What did this to them?”

“A draining spell, this is,” Yoda answered, ears drooping in his distress.  “Their health, their magic, their very lives, at risk now are.  Much longer, and the damage permanent shall be.  And if the spell is not broken, die they both shall.”

“The counterspell Depa suggested last night  –  will that break the draining spell?”

“I can’t say for certain, but it’s our best chance,” Mace agreed grimly.  “Together?”

Obi-Wan nodded, and began the chant.  Mace’s voice joined his by the second syllable, and Yoda’s and Luminara's on the third.  

The spell fought, as it always did in a joint casting.  Obi-Wan breathed in, and out, and wrestled down that instinctive part of him that hated letting his magic out of his own control.  This wouldn’t succeed unless they worked together, and for the Queen’s sake, and for Cody’s, and for all of theirs, he wouldn’t let this spell fail.  So he poured his magic into the spell, and let Yoda, as the most experienced caster of them all, weave it into a form that would break any and every spell it came in contact with.

Obi-Wan felt them, like bubbles popping or flashes of lightning out of the corner of his eye: first, a glamour.   Obi-Wan couldn’t help but turn and look, and so he caught the moment it broke, turning the unconscious fae’s headdress from live butterflies circling an entire bouquet of flowers back into a simple green hat that wouldn’t do much more than keep one’s hair from blowing about too wildly.  The various fae nobles didn’t wake up from where they were snoozing on the ground, however, which confirmed his guess that the sleeping gas was potion-based rather than bespelled.

Obi-Wan kept chanting.

The next spell to break was one that was keeping one of the stage swords sharp and undamaged despite dueling a lightsaber.  Yaddle pulled her blow right before it would have taken the performer’s leg off, and they quickly disengaged.  Yaddle didn’t follow, instead adding her voice to the growing chant.

Two more glamours broke, and then the magic on the Queen and Consort began to fray.  It was a strong spell, however, and a complicated one.  Worse, Palpatine was actively feeding magic into it.  It wouldn’t break easily.  

The counterspell spread further, and then Obi-Wan felt it reach Padme and begin to break a spell on her  –  another glamour if he was sensing it correctly.  

With the small part of him not wrapped up in spellcasting, Obi-Wan wondered.  The Summer Lady had periodically spoken out against the culture of using magic masks to hide reality instead of being honest and accepting oneself and each other without glamours.   Still, it wasn’t like the Royal Family were perfect, and as nobility went, this was pretty minor hypocrisy.  

Then the glamour began to break, and Obi-Wan suddenly had a lot more questions.  The Summer Lady’s skin grew ashen, and she stumbled.  Then the robes around her middle shifted, and Obi-Wan suddenly wondered at the very distinctively-shaped bump that was starting to appear.

But he was pulled abruptly out of his thoughts a moment later when a sword flew by inches in front of his nose.  A very familiar sword.  A sword, made not of enchanted metal, but of the very hearts of stars, given life in an impossibly deadly blue.

“Stop it,” Anakin growled.  “Stop the counterspell right now.”

“What?!” Obi-Wan gasped, aghast, pulling himself out of his utter shock a moment later to realize gratefully that others in the group were breaking off their battles to take up the chant he had dropped mid-syllable in his surprise.  “It’s Breha’s life at stake!  And Bail’s!  And probably most of the performers’, too!  Join us!  We could use your strength to break Palpatine’s spells!”

“How dare you!  Like you don’t even care!”

“Care –  what??  What in all of Faerie are you talking about?”

“Padme!  Palpatine is saving her life and if you finish breaking that spell you’ll kill her and I won’t let you!”

Obi-Wan was now thoroughly off-balance and only just put up in his own sword in time to block Anakin’s next blow  –  not a killing blow, but one that would have hit and done real damage if it had connected.  

“Palpatine is trying to actively murder the Queen!  I have no idea what you’re talking about with the Summer Lady, but I guarantee you Palpatine does not have her or anyone’s best interests at heart!”  

Obi-Wan didn’t know, certainly, what Palpatine’s plans were beyond mass murder, but if Palpatine succeeded in killing the Queen and her husband, leaving Padme to take the throne but with some sort of secret debt to Palpatine going on…  Or maybe that was too risky of a plan and Palpatine was simply planning on killing the Queen first as the biggest threat and then taking out Padme next.  Regardless, Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine a version of the future where Palpatine lived and Padme had a safe and happy future.

Anakin’s blows were coming faster now, not quite killing strikes, but with a power and fury behind them far beyond any of their training spars.  If Obi-Wan could just get Anakin to calm down enough to think rationally for a moment or two…!

“Anakin,” he forced out between parries, “stop fighting me and go fetch the healers!  Let whatever spell Palpatine cast on Padme break and let actual healers take a look at her  –  and all the rest of the injured here!  –  like they should have from the moment you or she noticed something was wrong!”  And between Anakin’s knowledge of whatever that was, plus the familiar way he had spoken of someone who far outranked him, Obi-Wan was starting to develop some very disturbing suspicions about their relationship.  

“I…  No!  No, they’d find out!  They can’t find out!  No one can!  Just stop casting that counterspell and it’ll all work out like it’s supposed to!”

Anakin had been squirrelly all week, but Obi-Wan had never imagined this was what he was hiding.  Already knowing it was useless, Obi-Wan tried one final time.  “Anakin, let us finish the spell to save the Queen’s life.”

“No,” Anakin answered, his frantic desperation of a moment before coalescing into deadly calm as he made his choice, Obi-Wan watching with grief as the sickly yellow of Dark Magic seeped into his eyes.  “I won’t let you.  Stand down or I’ll make you stop, any way I need to.”

Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, but felt a distant pang of regret.  He wasn’t sure how long he could withstand Anakin  –  especially an Anakin fighting to kill, and especially when, even now, Obi-Wan doubted he’d be able to do the same.  And yet behind him were half a dozen Jedi locked into the counterspell chant.  They wouldn’t be able to respond in time if Anakin attacked them.  Obi-Wan had to hold for as long as he could.

Then Anakin started chanting. Obi-Wan didn’t recognize the spell at first. It wasn’t the counterspell, that much was obvious, but it also wasn’t any of the other common combat spells Jedi used. Then a feeling of phantom fingers wrapped around Obi-Wan’s throat, and he suddenly recognized the harsh syllables as a particularly nasty – and extremely Dark – spell to crush someone to death. As Anakin channeled the Dark Magic through the kyber crystal in his lightsaber, the brilliant blue bled into a sinister red.

The magic around his throat tightened, and Obi-Wan fought not to panic as it held him in place and cut off his air. Anakin was just out of range of Obi-Wan’s saber and there were a limited number of spells Obi-Wan could use to fight back while being strangled. With spots forming in front of his eyes from the lack of air, Obi-Wan readied himself for one last-ditch effort to fight back.

Salvation came from the most unlikely source.

Over Anakin’s shoulder, Obi-Wan distantly noted Palpatine stalking forward with rage on his face.  Apparently he had noticed his army’s lack of enthusiasm for doing permanent harm, and wanted to rectify the oversight.

“Kill the Jedi!” he bellowed, and every performer in the room raised their sword.  

A dozen worried Jedi voices rang out, repositioning those still standing into a tighter defensive circle around the fallen Queen and the casters of the counterspell.

One voice rose above the hubbub.  “Kill the Jedi!” it called, and Obi-Wan recognized it.  In the split second he had to respond, his heart didn’t know how to react.  Joy, that Anakin’s attack on Obi-Wan didn’t mean that he had escaped his previous battle by killing Cody.  Horror, to hear Cody’s voice raised to order his siblings to kill Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan’s family.

“Kill the Jedi,” Cody repeated, loud enough for the entire room to hear.  And then he added one more sentence: “Kill Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.”

Two dozen performers began stalking towards Anakin with murder in their eyes.  Disbelief flashed across Anakin’s face, before he forgot Obi-Wan even existed and turned to face the more immediate threat.

The spell cut off in an instant as Anakin’s focus on it lapsed, and for just a moment, all Obi-Wan could think about was drawing in giant gasps of air through his bruised throat. And yet he had decades of discipline as a Jedi Knight, and so only a moment later he had forced himself back into a guard position, assessing the oncoming threats. Cody and Rex were the two closest of those approaching Anakin, but behind them were more than a dozen others who had abandoned their own battles to stalk towards their new target.

For just a moment, every part of Obi-Wan wanted to step up beside Anakin like the last five minutes had never happened, and fight side by side with Anakin like they had so many times before.  

And yet it only took a moment for reason to reassert itself.  Anakin had just tried to kill him with Dark Magic because he was attempting to save the Queen’s life. Besides, Anakin was one of the best duelists in the Order.  If anyone could survive the next few minutes, it would be him.  But with him and the performers distracted as they focused on each other, right now was their absolute best chance to finish breaking Palpatine’s spells.  

Because Palpatine was the biggest threat.  So long as he had command of his small army, everything else was at risk  –  horribly illustrated a moment later when he opened his mouth to yell, “You idiots!  Not  –”

His order was abruptly cut off by an extremely familiar gag wrapping around the lower half of his face  –  the one that periodically appeared on courtiers who had so thoroughly exasperated the Queen that she had ordered them to stop for a moment and think before they spoke.  Obi-Wan whipped back around to the throne, and saw with growing glee that the draining spell on the Queen was finally starting to shred.  Her eyes were open now, if only barely, and she had gathered her wits enough to croak the silencing spell, but she was still as pale as death, and Palpatine was already unraveling the gag spell.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, resolutely ignoring the scratchiness of his voice and letting all of his concerns about the outside world fade to the back of his mind, and threw himself into the counterspell chant.

The sickly Dark Magic of the draining spell would take much longer to fully break, but a dozen syllables of the counterspell chant were enough to snap four more of the performers’ enchantments on their swords.  Another glamour broke, and then another layer of whatever spell was on Padme.  Not a single safety spell on the circus’ equipment had broken yet, though, and Obi-Wan was getting the strong suspicion that that was because there weren’t any to break.  Why bother spending magic to preserve the lives of beings who would only ever be means to an end?

Palpatine might not care, but Obi-Wan did.  Even after such a short time, he wanted Cody to live.  He wanted Cody to be free to make his own choices, and not be trapped by an evil master into committing crimes against his will.  He had met Rex and Fox only briefly, and Cody’s other siblings not at all, but that didn’t matter.  Cody loved them.  They were his family, and they all deserved a life of freedom and happiness as much as he did.  

And right now, Obi-Wan had exactly one shot at giving them that freedom.

This was a battle worth every drop of magic Obi-Wan had.  He poured it all out into the spell, freely, holding nothing back, letting it be molded by the combined efforts of the Jedi as a whole.  

It was, just barely, enough.  The magic washed against the sickly chains of Palpatine’s magic wrapping around Cody, and with a crack Obi-Wan felt down to his bones, they broke.  

If that was how bad the backlash felt to him, how bad had it felt to Palpatine, as the caster of the spell?  But at least that could only be to the good.

The breaking of the geas energized all the casters, and in short succession, two more shattered, and then another.

Still continuing the chant that was probably burned all the way into his soul by now, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and immediately met Cody’s gaze across Anakin’s kneeling body.

Anakin wasn’t completely out of the fight yet, but after even just a few minutes against so many opponents he clearly wasn’t doing well  –  he had lost his right arm just below the elbow, and only a quick tourniquet spell had kept him from bleeding out.  His lightsaber was held tightly in his left hand, but at an awkward angle.  Cody was standing above him, sword raised  –  Anakin wouldn’t be able to block before Cody could strike.

For just a moment, Obi-Wan was sure Cody would take the strike. Even freed from the geas and Palpatine’s control, the habit of following Palpatine’s orders would be too strong to break. Or if not that, then simply the bloodlust of battle and the instinct to take down an enemy while they were vulnerable to ensure they couldn’t get back in the fight.

And yet even as Obi-Wan watched, Cody took a deep breath and halted his downward stroke just before it hit. Cody searched Obi-Wan’s eyes, then dropped his gaze down to Anakin’s defiant face.  Obi-Wan saw him hesitate, but then straighten as he made his decision.  “Leave him,” he called out to his siblings.  “He’s not the true target.”

In a single motion, they turned and zeroed in on their new quarry: Palpatine.

Palpatine had clearly been dazed by the backlash of so many of his spells breaking, but he refocused quickly as he saw a handful of his own people marching towards him, and his face went chalk-white as he saw whatever expression was on their faces.  

It just as quickly morphed from panic into fury.

With a burst of power he tore off the last remnants of the Queen’s gag spell, and spat out, “How dare you!  I order you to stop right now!”

The last handful of performers who weren’t following Cody and hadn’t yet been incapacitated by one of the Jedi froze in place.  Cody, and the group following him, didn’t.  

Palpatine’s face twisted up further in rage, and sparks began shooting out of his fingertips  –  a dangerous sign of a mage losing all control over their own magic.  “You will obey me!  By your Names I compel you!  24, stop!’

The number made no sense to Obi-Wan, but Cody’s steps stuttered and he swayed in place for a moment.  But then he caught himself and took two defiant strides forward.  “24 is not my Name, and you do not get to control me by it.”

Palpatine looked as poleaxed at Cody’s defiance as if Cody had hit him over the head with a dead fish.  

“I will deal with your treachery soon enough!” he hissed.  “67!  Defend me!”

Rex, standing firm at Cody’s left shoulder, gave one deliberate shake of his head.  “I’m free of the geas, I’m free of your control, and I’m free of you calling me by a number and trying to convince me it’s a Name.”

“10!” Palpatine tried, looking desperately at the man standing on Cody’s other side, still dressed in the costume of the Black Fox.  “By your Name, I order you!”

“No,” he replied flatly.  “I reject that Name, and I reject you!”

The sparks were growing stronger and stronger as Palpatine turned to the last member of the group still steadily advancing towards him.  “55, this is your last chance!  Cease your defiance and defend me or you will die like the miserable worm you are!”

The performer Palpatine pointed at was no longer the bumbling jester he had been portraying just ten minutes earlier as the protagonist of the show.  Instead, he was focused, implacable, and deadly furious as he answered, “If I’m going to die, I’d much rather do it defending people from you than killing them for you!”

The four of them were close now, less than a dozen feet away from Palpatine.  Except Palpatine wasn’t out of tricks yet, and Obi-Wan could see him starting to gather the lightning around him into a massive, lethal storm.  He was suddenly certain that if Palpatine wasn’t stopped, 55’s prediction of death would come true.

Obi-Wan was too deep into the casting of the counterspell to switch to another spell in time, even if he still had the strength for something powerful enough to distract Palpatine.  But maybe there was something he could do.

Obi-Wan reached even deeper inside himself, down to the wellspring of his very soul.  Drawing on the magic of one’s own life force was a measure of last resort that would knock him flat on his back for a good week, but if ever there was a time for such a last resort, it was now.  

Obi-Wan released the last guard and threw that final well of power into the spell.  With this last rush of power, one more geas broke.  Obi-Wan saw the very moment the backlash hit Palpatine, the shock of it just enough to break his concentration on the lightning that had been growing around him.  

The backlash of his own lightning hurt Palpatine badly, warping his face and breaking the glamour that hid his Dark Magic yellow eyes, but it wasn’t enough to kill him.

Then Cody, Rex, and their brothers took one last step forward with their swords raised, blocking Obi-Wan’s view for a moment.  Then there was a thunk and a smaller thunk, and Obi-Wan could just barely see past their legs to Palpatine’s fallen body  –  and, a few feet away, his head.

Before Obi-Wan could even process what had happened, a vast rush of power blew through the room as Palpatine’s death broke every remaining spell he had ever cast.

A moment later, Obi-Wan realized he was sitting on the floor, ears still ringing from the backlash of that many spells snapping in an instant, and wondered when that had happened.  He dearly wanted to pass out where he sat, but the adrenaline would be enough to keep him going a little while longer  –  important, as he needed to know what would happen to Cody.

He was about to call for him when he was preempted by the Queen standing up, already regaining some of her color.  “Members of the Circus Fantastica!” she called out in a ringing voice.  “What are your intentions now?  Will you continue to fight, or will you lay down your weapons and surrender?”

Cody stood stock still, staring at the Queen, for long moments.  Then there was a clattering sound as he and every single performer in the room dropped their swords as one, not bothering even to sheathe them or lay them down neatly, but practically throwing them down as if they were lethal snakes to be let go of as quickly as possible.  Then Cody knelt there on the ground, heedless of the blood soaking the grass, and raised his hands over his head.  A moment later, every single one of his siblings followed suit.

“Thank you,” the Queen said, and Obi-Wan suspected only the Jedi were close enough to recognize her relief.  But even a near-assassination wouldn’t keep her down for long.

“Someone, go fetch every healer in the Palace!”

The Jedi looked at each other briefly, sizing up their comparative injuries and stamina.

One of their younger Knights, Aayla, relaxed from the defensive pose she had still been holding and offered, “I’ll go!” before dashing off deeper into the Palace.

Within moments, the first healers were flooding into the courtyard, checking on the injured and getting into heated discussions with several of the performers about which sleeping potion they had used and the best antidote.

Shortly behind them were more guards, highly apologetic that they hadn’t noticed the silencing spell Palpatine had discreetly cast around the courtyard or thought to check on how things were going earlier.  

By this point, Obi-Wan was very nearly ready to curl up and fall asleep right there in the grass, but he couldn’t yet, not with Anakin’s and Cody’s fates unresolved.  Thankfully one of the healers stopped by, slathered a healing potion on his bruised neck, and offered him a second potion for treatment of magical overextension along with a reminder not to cast any spells for at least the next two weeks.  The taste of honeysuckle almost covered the flavor of raw onion, but the worst of the exhaustion faded, leaving behind the more familiar aches and pains of too much vigorous exertion in an aging body.

Finally the Queen spoke again, “Padme Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, you will be treated in the healer’s wing under guard.  Once you are recovered enough to answer questions, I will want a full accounting of what exactly your roles in all that has been going on have been.  Members of the Circus Fantastica…” she paused for a moment, meeting the eyes of each one around the room.  “I would hear the entire story of what happened, and what Palpatine’s role in all of this was, and your own.  But this is not, I think, the time or place for that,” she added wryly, looking around at the chaos of the room.  “Will you all swear to do no harm to anyone, save in defense of yourself or another, for as long as you remain within this city?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the group swore.

“Thank you.  Then… the Guardians of the Whills, I think.  They frequently host pilgrims in their abbey here, and so will have room for all of you.  Stay with them until I send for you, and in the meantime, recount for them everything you know of what led up to this.”

They gulped, and nodded.  Obi-Wan signed with relief.  The Guardians of the Whills had their main temple in Jedha, but the secondary one here in Coruscant still had plenty of space.  And given that the Circus Fantastica’s tent was now both a crime scene, and probably also missing most of its structural integrity with the breaking of Palpatine’s spells, it would be a safe place for them to stay and recover until the Queen was ready for them.  And while many of the Guardians were powerful mages in their own rights, they were also compassionate and kind, and would never abuse anyone in their custody.

“Arden,” the Queen called to one of the older pages who had been fetching and carrying for the healers, “run to the Whills and let them know what I’ve volunteered them for.  Bring as many back with you as you can to escort the group to their new quarters.”

Xe bowed, then dashed off.  

Obi-Wan felt a fresh wave of exhaustion just watching xem, but knew this was his chance.  The few minutes it would take xem to run to the abbey on the outskirts of town, and then bring some of the Guardians back with xem, would probably be the last opportunity Obi-Wan would have to talk to Cody for days, if not weeks.  So Obi-Wan dragged himself stiffly to his feet, then tottered over to where Cody was still kneeling and dropped down beside him.

Cody looked to be basically in one piece, thank Summer, and his handful of cuts and scrapes had already been bandaged by one of the healers.

Even before Obi-Wan had the chance to say anything, Cody was speaking up, “Thank you, thank you for understanding and warning them.”

“You were intentionally trying to warn me, then?”

“Not very well,” Cody huffed a laugh that was very close to being a sob, “but it was the only thing I could think of.”

“It worked, and it saved the Queen’s life, and all the rest of ours, too, probably,” Obi-Wan said firmly.  “And, ah, the rest of it?”

“That first time we met, well, we’re always supposed to be friendly and keep an ear open for useful gossip, but I really did like getting to know you and want to be friends.  But after that… Palpatine ordered me to report on you, and keep befriending you, and then seduce you.”

A good thing he hadn’t let things go any further than that kiss, Obi-Wan reflected gratefully.  But it was painful to see so much guilt on Cody’s face, and the way he was hunching away from Obi-Wan like he expected Obi-Wan to hate him, or maybe just hit him, for following orders he wasn’t physically capable of refusing.  “I don’t blame you for what Palpatine made you do, and I’m glad it wasn’t totally on Palpatine’s orders that you liked getting to know me.  I was glad to make a new friend, and I’d like to stay friends, if you want that, too.”

Cody visibly brightened at the reassurance, turning to face Obi-Wan with something approaching wonder in his eyes.  “You mean that?”

“I do.”

Cody opened his mouth, but then shut it with a snap as the doors to the courtyard opened and a dozen Guardians of the Whills followed Arden in the courtyard.  

“Thank you,” Cody whispered quickly, in a tone that sounded far too much like “Good-bye,” and then he rose gracefully to his feet.  The rest of his siblings fell in behind him, and they marched away.

Cody didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

“How is the Queen, truly?”

“Physically?  Recovering well.  The spell was ended quickly enough that it did no lasting damage.  Emotionally?  Betrayed.  Grieving.  Much like you, I would guess?”

“I…  Yes, I suppose very much like me.  How… How is Anakin, have you heard?”

“The Brightshield Clan of dwarves has been visiting Coruscant for Midsummer.”

“They’re the ones who make enchanted prosthetics?”

“Yes.  Two of their Master Crafters have examined the stump of Anakin’s arm and promised to begin work on a prosthetic as soon as they return home.  But that’s not what you’re really asking, is it?”

“I loved him.  Some part of me still loves him.  But he tried to stop me from saving the Queen’s life, even when I begged him to stand down.  He was willing to kill me with Dark Magic and let her die all for the sake of maintaining the deception that he and Padme hadn’t broken their vows.  That’s treason, isn’t it?”

“Yes.  It is.  And yet all hope is not lost.  As he did not succeed, the Queen has stated she will not seek his execution.  Instead, he will be imprisoned until such time as he repents of what he has done and agrees to make restitution.”

“Thank you, Mace.  That’s good to hear.  He still has a chance to learn.  And Padme?”

“No longer Summer Lady, as I’m sure you heard, not after she broke her vows so thoroughly, but the palace healers were able to treat the complications of her pregnancy and she’ll be retiring to her hometown of Naboo to give birth and live out her days quietly.  The Queen has offered, for the sake of Padme’s previous service, that either or both of her children –”

“Children?”

“Twins, I believe, is what the healers have predicted.  Once the children are old enough, if they and she desire, the Queen will offer them positions in the Palace as pages, with all the privileges and responsibilities that entails.  Assuming their magical level is high enough –”

“Almost guaranteed, with Anakin as their father.”

“– Master Yoda has offered the same for the Temple and the Jedi Order.”

“Thank you.  Despite all Anakin did, they shouldn’t suffer for it.”

“No one will demand they do.”  

“Then all that is left are the members of the circus.”

Chapter Text

Slightly over a week since he had last entered the palace, and two days after the last of the official Midsummer ceremonies had concluded (and Obi-Wan had managed to stay awake for longer at a time than a single meal), Obi-Wan stood in the palace throne room.  With him were nearly all of the Knights who had been part of the fight to defend the Queen, with a handful of exceptions.  Anakin was still under the healers’ care for the moment, but was expected to be released into the custody of the Coruscant prison within the week.  Several other Jedi were also still under the healers’ care, but would instead be returning either to active duty or a peaceful retirement, depending on the severity of their injuries and their own preference.

But all of that was irrelevant to why Obi-Wan was here in the palace today.

Obi-Wan turned to look as he heard the massive doors at the rear of the room swing ponderously open.  Revealed between them was Cody, wearing a plain, unadorned tunic and leggings.  To his right was Rex, and to his left and behind him were other siblings Obi-Wan didn’t trust himself to recognize.  It was quite the crowd of them, and as they kept pouring into the room, Obi-Wan eventually concluded it must be all of Cody’s siblings who had been performing in the circus under Palpatine.  

The bulk of the siblings stayed in the back of the room, clustered by the doors or spreading out along the back wall.  About a dozen  –  Obi-Wan wondered if they were the official or unofficial leaders of the group  –  continued slowly down the aisle formed between the various Jedi, courtiers, and assorted palace staff, until they were about two-thirds of the way from the doors to the thrones at the front of the room.  The Summer Lady’s was empty, and would stay that way until a new election could be held, but the Summer Queen and Prince Consort were both there, recovered enough that one would never be able to tell how close they had come to death a week prior.

Rex halted about twenty feet in front of the thrones, and nearly all the rest halted with him.  Alone, Cody continued forward to the empty space around the foot of the thrones, and there he dropped to his knees.

“Your Majesty,” he began, voice hoarse with emotion, then paused.  A moment later, he gathered himself, and tried again.  “Your Majesty, we are sorry, all of us, for the harm we did to you and your people and your kingdom.  We cannot make up for that.  Whatever punishment you choose to levy on us is fair and just, but please,” Cody’s voice cracked and Obi-Wan’s heart clenched.  “We have no right to beg for your mercy, but my younger siblings bear less of the blame.  We–” he nodded to the group that had come forward with him “–did the worst of what Palpatine asked of us.  I would beg of you to let your harshest punishment fall on us alone.”

“Oh, Cody,” Queen Breha started, face creased in grief Cody couldn’t see with his face to the ground.  Then she hesitated, and asked, “Or is that the name which you would prefer We call you by?”

Cody startled a little at the clearly unexpected question and likely even more unexpected tone, but he answered firmly, “Cody is my Name.”  The pause stretched out a moment longer, before he thought to add, “I would like to be called Cody.”

“Cody, then,” Queen Breha said firmly, and stepped down from the dais to stand in front of Cody.  “We are sorry.  I am sorry I did not make my intentions clear to you and your siblings.  We have not brought you here to punish you.”

At that Cody’s eyes flew open and he threw himself back to stare up in shock at the Queen.  He opened his mouth, then firmly shut it again.  Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder how bad of an idea it had been to question Palpatine.

“Speak, Cody,” Breha prompted gently.

“Then why, this past week  –  all the questions?”  

Breha smiled briefly at the tongue-tied question before she sobered again.  “We are grieved that Our lack of explanations left you in fear, and We are grieved at the pain you all no doubt felt being asked to relive all the harm which Palpatine ordered you to do.  But We asked the Guardians of the Whills to compile for Us a full recounting of all your deeds, and all you knew of Palpatine’s actions and motives for several reasons.”

The Queen raised her voice to address the entire room and all of Cody’s siblings.  “Summer Law has long held that magical compulsions are dreadful things.  The violation of another’s free will is abhorrent.  The laws of Summer also hold that if a person casts a spell of compulsion  –  such as a geas   –  on another person, and then orders them to commit a crime, the legal and moral guilt for the crime belong to the person who gave the order, not the one who had no choice but to carry it out.  Every crime that Palpatine ordered you to commit is on his head, not yours.”

Cody stared up at her in utter disbelief, and it looked like all his siblings felt the same.  

Breha continued, “With Palpatine dead, he is past any mortal accounting for those crimes, but that does not mean that the crimes were not committed, or the harm to the victims undone.  As such, We, with the aid of the Jedi, have begun the process of contacting all those affected, to explain to them what happened, and that the architect of those crimes is now dead.  You graciously offered to the Guardians of the Whills all the stolen goods within the circus, which are now being returned, and for the other injuries We are offering what restitution We can provide.”

“Thank you,” Cody breathed, hope growing on his face like a sunrise.  “And please, if we can help with making restitution…”

“We do not require it of any of you,” she answered gently, “but if it would ease your hearts to be able to help where once you were forced to harm, We will not turn down your aid.”

Cody and all his siblings nodded, and Obi-Wan smiled through his tears at the thought of them beginning to heal from what they had been forced to do.

Breha gave them all a moment to collect themselves, then added with an impish smile, “And, even with only a few days to work, a few of those Jedi teams have gotten some very interesting responses.  There are some who will not give up their blame for you easily, but there are far more who grieve with you that you were just as much victims as they.  And when they discovered that those they had thought to blame were not, in fact, guilty…”

A side door opened at Breha’s gesture, and two young men  –  siblings of Cody, Obi-Wan realized after a glance at familiar faces  –  walked through.

“Ponds?” came from a dozen voices simultaneously, and “Keeli!” from a dozen more.

Then the careful, polite, organized lines dissolved into absolute chaos as Cody’s siblings started a mad dash for the newcomers.  

Cody made an aborted move to get up, then turned back to the Queen and stayed kneeling.  She just smiled and motioned him towards his brothers: “Go.”

Cody ran.

His incandescent joy proved utterly infectious, and the entire room burst into cheers at the sight of the siblings’ reunion.  

Eventually the whole group of them made their way back to stand in front of the Queen, practically tripping over each other to thank the Queen.  

She just smiled and said, a little sadly, “It’s the least We could do, after everything you endured without anyone realizing what was wrong.  And yet you persevered, and freed yourselves, and saved this Kingdom in the process.  Cody, it was your warning that gave the Jedi the time they needed to prepare.  Despite the orders you were given, all of you did everything in your power to work within and around them to do as little permanent damage as possible. And while I know you all had your own reasons for ensuring Palpatine could no longer be a threat, in the process you also defeated a Dark Mage who came extremely close to killing Us and Our spouse, killing or blackmailing the Summer Lady into compliance, and becoming the power behind the throne of the entire Kingdom.  In gratitude for what you have done, We wish to thank and reward you all for your service to this Kingdom.”

Two pages ran up, carrying trays covered in gold medallions hanging from silk ribbons, and one by one, the Queen called each member of the Circus Fantastica to the front of the room to place the ribbons around their necks.

Not all of the members had chosen Names to replace the numbers Palpatine had Named them with, and not all of those who had chosen a Name were comfortable having them spoken aloud in an entire roomful of people, but that was alright.  Those choices were theirs to make now, and every one of them would be free to make them.  And in the meantime, the Queen was more than willing to refer to them by whatever Name, number, or nickname they wished to be known by.

As the entire group turned to face the audience, medals on their chests and faces no longer showing fear or bewilderment, but pride and joy, the entire audience burst into cheers, and no one was louder than Obi-Wan.

 –  –  – 

The assassination attempt  –  and the aftermath of the Summer Lady’s dismissal  –  had naturally put a damper on many of the Midsummer Celebrations that had been scheduled for the last week.  Oh, the Queen had insisted that at least some go ahead anyway, without her if need be, but many had shrunk in size and others had been canceled altogether.  

In practical terms, that meant the Palace kitchens were still full of a number of festive ingredients, and the cooks were all feeling a little disappointed that they hadn’t gotten to show off their skills to the extent that they normally would have.  So when they had gotten wind that the Queen was planning to thank those who had helped save her life, they had gone all out with a celebratory feast for afterwards, held in the largest garden the Palace had.  

Obi-Wan spent a little while chatting with the other Jedi, then when the initial line for food died down he grabbed a plate of food and cup of cordial from the long tables set up in the center, then went looking for Cody.

He found him stretched out on the ground in the sun, food all but forgotten as he stared up at the flowering tree in the center of the garden.

“It’s a meiloorun tree,” Obi-Wan said into the silence.  “Outside of the Summer Kingdom it’s mostly known for its sweet fruit, but here it’s also famous for not flowering until Midsummer.  Because of that, it’s long been an unofficial symbol of the Royal Family, and they’re grown all over the Palace.”

“It’s beautiful,” Cody said, then finally turned to face Obi-Wan properly.  “It doesn’t even feel real yet  –  I keep expecting to wake up back in the Whills’ abbey awaiting my execution, or even back in the tent, waiting to see just how bad the next Order from Palpatine is going to be.  Not here, with this,” he tugged on the medal around his neck, “and not with Ponds and Keeli impossibly back…!”

“I know Palpatine must have taken so much from all of you.  I wish the Jedi had found out what was going on and stopped him earlier, but I’m glad that those two, at least, you got back.  From the way you talked about him, I had assumed Ponds was dead.”

“We thought he was,” Cody answered soberly.  “We had been pretty sure both of them were, by this point.  Keeli was the first one we lost on a mission  –  there had been others before him in training accidents, but we had only been running thieving missions for Palpatine for a few months, and something went wrong and he got caught.  Palpatine found out about it and we left that very night.  The next day he gathered us all together and told us that Keeli failed, and warned us that if anyone caught us, they would kill us.  He gave us a bunch of Orders, too, about all the things we couldn’t say if we ever were caught.  It was the first time any of us had realized it was even possible we might fail.  

“Ponds was over a year later, after Palpatine had started giving us the occasional assassination missions.  I remember him coming to us that evening, shaking, telling us what he had been Ordered to do.  He said the target was a good man, with a loving husband and three young children.  And then he left, and we never saw him again, and Palpatine told us he was about to be executed but we had to leave town before they started asking questions of the rest of us.”

“I wonder what happened?” Obi-Wan mused.

“What do you think was the first thing we asked him?” Cody replied with a laugh.  “Turns out he had realized Palpatine had Ordered him to perform the assassination, but hadn’t actually given him any Orders about doing it well.   So he made every single possible mistake he could think of in the process, figuring his own life was a small price to ensure the failure of the assassination.  Sure enough, he was caught.  But once he was caught, the guards, and later the judge, had no clue what to make of him.  He was the most incompetent assassin they could conceive of, to the point where they couldn’t even be sure that was his intention, he made no defense whatsoever, but every time he wasn’t actively cuffed or behind bars he’d attempt to travel towards wherever his target was.  So they finally decided to just stick him in the town jail for a while and maybe the next time a Jedi came through they’d be able to get an actual explanation of what was going on.  Well, the next Jedi was the one the Queen sent out last week, coinciding with Ponds suddenly no longer under Orders to be silent, and they agreed to let him go.”

“I’m very, very glad it worked out in the end for both of them,” Obi-Wan said.

“So what now, between us?” Cody asked after a moment.  “You said, a week ago, you were willing to stay friends, but we didn’t exactly have a lot of time to discuss then.  You really meant it?”  Cody looked achingly vulnerable as he asked.

“I did, and I do,” Obi-Wan assured him immediately.  He might not know Cody well yet, might not even be certain just how much of Cody’s personality at the circus had been his own and how much had been influenced by Palpatine’s Orders, but that was okay.  He knew enough to want to try to build a friendship with Cody, and the rest they could figure out in time.

“And more than a friendship?” Cody asked, even more quietly.  “You seemed to like the kiss, and then you asked me out on a date.  I couldn’t say yes, then  –  Palpatine didn’t want us leaving the tent except for missions and the very occasional advertising or outside performance  –  but I could say yes now.”

That wasn’t a question Obi-Wan had expected, though maybe he should have.  And this time he could say yes.  He had been horribly right before, that Cody wasn’t acting of his own free will, but over the past week each and every one of Cody’s siblings had been thoroughly tested for any remaining spells on them, and all had come up clean.  And yet, he still hesitated.  Cody might not be controlled right now, but was that trepidation in his eyes the normal worry of someone with a natural fear of rejection, or was there something beyond that?

“I wouldn’t mind trying that again with you, Cody,” Obi-Wan said slowly, “but what do you want?”

Cody’s face twisted in confusion.  “This is a happy ending, isn’t it?  One more amazing than I could ever have even imagined!  Isn’t this how a happy ending is supposed to go?”

A very telling response, Obi-Wan thought, considering there was nothing there about what he wanted.  “Does it have to be?  It could, but when you and Rex didn’t like the ending of your story, you asked Ponds to rewrite it for you.  We get to choose whatever happy ending we want.  So what do you want?”

Cody sat there looking troubled, and Obi-Wan’s heart ached.  Stories could reflect the entire range of existence, but that didn’t mean they always did.  He’d just have to make sure Cody and all his siblings got the chance to see and hear and read and watch all the stories, and all the lives, that Palpatine had never allowed them to be exposed to.

Cody was still contemplative, but finally looked up and asked, “So what do you want?”  When Obi-Wan tried to demur he added pointedly, “If I have a right to my own opinion, then so do you, just as much.”

“Fair enough!” Obi-Wan barked a laugh.  “For me,” he added more gently, “I’ve never been all that interested in kissing, and all the various things that can lead to, for my own sake.  I’ve enjoyed doing them in the past, but mostly because they’re things that bring my partner joy.  But while some people have a strong preference for romantic and sexual activities over other types of activities, I’d be just as happy to spend time with someone drinking tea and chatting.”

“Oh,” Cody breathed.  “It’s okay to not be interested in… those sorts of activities?  That sort of relationship?  At all?  With anyone?”

“It is.  A lot of Jedi in the Order feel like that, to varying degrees.”

“Kissing you  –  well, mostly I was focused on trying to figure out how to obey my orders to seduce you, and guilt that that probably didn’t mean Palpatine had any good plans for you and the other Jedi.  But even ignoring that part it wasn’t half as much fun as watching you light up as you shared stories about your family.”

“I think we can work with that,” Obi-Wan grinned.

They sat there in peaceful silence for a few moments, just enjoying the chance to be together.  Eventually Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but before he could ask another question, he was interrupted by Plo Koon walking by with one of Cody’s siblings.  

Plo nodded to them, and Cody’s sibling ( “Wolffe,” Cody whispered to Obi-Wan in introduction, and Obi-Wan returned the favor with, “Plo Koon.”) gave a brief wave, but they were clearly far too engrossed in their conversation to care about unintentional eavesdroppers.  

“It’s not like we’re going to turn you down!” Wolffe was saying with some asperity.  “Help with sets, with special effects, with real, proper safety spells?  Of course we’d be incredibly grateful to have you join us!  But I just want to know what the real reason is for your offer!”

“What is it you’re afraid of?” Plo asked gently.

Wolffe paused for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to answer, but he finally sighed and admitted, “That you’re just joining us to keep an eye on us; to make sure we don’t fall into old bad habits.  To protect the rest of the Realm from us.”

Plo considered him gravely for a moment, then said simply, “No.”

“No?”

“No.  None of those are reasons why I’m volunteering to join you in the circus.”  Plo took a moment to sit down on a nearby bench and arrange his robes meticulously around him.  Wolffe hesitated, but finally swung himself up to perch on the stone wall surrounding a large planter adjacent to the bench.

“Then why?”

“The exact opposite, actually.  Now, to be fair, you all grew up with a terrible role model, so if you or any of your siblings ever have ethical questions I’d of course do my best to answer them, but that’s not my primary motivation.  Palpatine’s attempted assassination happened during the busiest week of the year.  With the Midsummer Festival over, thousands of fae are returning to their hometowns, each of them carrying their own rumors about what happened in the palace that day  –  and many of those rumors, unsurprisingly, bear little resemblance to the truth.  As you travel around performing, you will likely meet many people who judge you based on what you were forced to do under Palpatine, or rumors which are total nonsense.  Such people may be unwilling to listen to your own explanations of what actually happened  –  they might, however, be more willing to believe the testimony of a Jedi Knight.  If I can help defend you against those who believe badly of you for actions that were not your fault, I would like to do so.”

“You’d do that for us?  But what about your job as a Jedi Knight?”

“I have been a Jedi Knight for over three centuries, and been debating retirement for the last three decades.  Mace will be pleasantly surprised when I inform him I’m actually going through with it; he’s been telling me I’ve needed a break for years now.”

“Thank you.”

As Wolffe and Plo Koon left to go tell the others about the decision, Obi-Wan tried to keep the sorrow off his face.  “So it sounds like you’ll be leaving soon to return to the circus?” he asked, hoping his voice conveyed his support for Cody’s future, and not his disappointment at how quickly their time together would be cut short.

Yet Cody looked just as troubled as Obi-Wan felt.  “We have a lot of our siblings who are really excited about getting the circus back up and running again,” he answered obliquely.  “Back in the Whills’ abbey, that was Wolffe’s main way of keeping our hopes up.  We couldn’t even conceive of the idea that it might matter to the Queen whether our attack had been willing or not, or that she’d be okay not having someone  –  or a lot of someones  –  she could make an example of herself.  Our wildest conception of her mercy was that only a few of us would be executed, and the rest would be locked away in prison, maybe with the chance to see the sun on rare occasions and the hope to be released in a few centuries.”

Obi-Wan’s heart clenched in sympathy at the remembered despair in Cody’s voice.  “Even if some of you had been put in prison,” he got out, unable to stop imagining Anakin in the same cells he had delivered prisoners to so many times before as a Jedi Knight, “the Summer Kingdom does its best to treat them humanely.  Every cell has a window, everyone gets at least three hours outside a day unless the weather is truly frightful, and there are classes to help prepare prisoners for when they get out  –  everything from learning new trades to detoxing from Dark Magic.”  Whether it would be enough, whether Anakin would be willing to work for it, was a different question.

“Good to know,” Cody answered soberly, then brightened a bit.  “At any rate, every night after the questioning was done, we’d all crowd into one of our rooms, and Wolffe would lead us in imagining what the circus could be like with us running it ourselves  –  choosing our own parts, using scripts Palpatine forbade, figuring out safety equipment and spells, anything we wanted!  We don’t even know what condition the tent and tower are in right now with Palpatine’s spells having all broken so abruptly, but it was our magic he used to cast them, and he never really bothered hiding them from us, not realizing we were learning as we watched, so we should be able to get everything functional again in relatively short order.”

“So why are you hesitating?”

“I shouldn’t be.  Wolffe is overjoyed to get the chance to do the circus right, and so are Ponds, Fives, Tooka… the vast majority of our siblings, honestly.  But there are a few of us  –  myself, Rex, and some of the others –  who just have too many bad memories associated with the circus.  I haven’t told Wolffe yet, but every time I imagine stepping foot back inside the tent, I hear Palpatine’s voice in my ear, ordering me to do something awful again.  Maybe I just need to force myself to go back and remember he really is gone, but I’m not sure I’m ever going to be willing to get back on stage again.”  Even the admission alone had Cody’s voice rising in fear and his whole body tensed as if he was barely holding himself back from fleeing out of the Palace altogether.

“Oh, Cody,” Obi-Wan drew the younger man in for a hug, which he slid into with relief.  “It’s okay to not be okay after something like what you lived through.  It’s okay to not want to return to things that remind you of that time.  If you want to try, you should, but if you don’t want to, or you try and you confirm you’re not okay with it, that’s just fine, too.”

Cody’s ragged breathing slowly steadied, and eventually Obi-Wan broke the silence asking, “Is there anything else you think you might enjoy doing instead?”

“Helping people,” Cody said instantly.  “We told the Guardians of the Whills about all the stolen goods Palpatine kept in the tent, and where they went back to, but he also left various caches hidden around the Realms, and it’ll take one of us to unlock them so they can be returned.  And the other ways we hurt people  –  I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to heal any of it, but I feel like I ought to at least try.  

“There are my other missing siblings, too.  99 had to stay with Nala Se because she was testing a bunch of her enchantments on him and they turned out badly, so Palpatine didn’t want him in the circus.  He also Ordered Colt to stay as Nala Se’s guard  –  he wanted Nala Se safe to make him more of us if he asked, but he didn’t want her doing anything similar for anyone else, or telling anyone else what she did for him.  There are others of my siblings who just disappeared at some point, and I don’t even know what happened to them.  Besides that, though, I don’t really know.”

“It occurs to me,” Obi-Wan mused, “that just a few days ago you told me that if you weren’t an acrobat, you’d like to be a Knight like me.  Do you think you’d be interested in joining the Jedi Order?”

Cody stared at him, flabbergasted.  “Are you joking?  Is that even possible?  Don’t you have all sorts of rules for who can be a Jedi Knight?”

“It’s entirely possible, and I promise I wouldn’t joke about something like this.  Jedi Knights need magic, which I doubt Palpatine could have stolen from you if you hadn’t had it in the first place, so that’s checked off.  Jedi Knights need martial skills, or at least the willingness to learn those skills, and I’m pretty sure Battlemaster Cin Drallig will invite you to start teaching swordsmanship classes within your first week.”

“Don’t knights usually start as pages when they’re young children?  Like four or five?” Cody asked doubtfully.

“Yes  –  and how old are you right now?”

“...Six.”

Obi-Wan chuckled at Cody’s begrudging tone, then sobered.  “No one in the Temple will ever treat you as less than the adult you physically and mentally are.  But yes, you would be expected to join as a page, and no doubt take some classes with the other pages, despite the age difference.  For all the many skills you do have, I would imagine Palpatine wasn’t interested in ensuring you learned about negotiating trade disputes or the history of Summer nobility.  And then, after a few years as a page, you’d become a squire, apprenticing to a Jedi Knight and assisting them in their quests, until finally you were deemed ready for Knighting.  It would be a long road, but I believe it is a worthwhile one.  And the same path would be open to any other of your siblings who were interested.”

“You truly mean we could become Jedi Knights?”

“Yes, Cody.  Both Master Windu and Master Yoda agree  –  we would be honored to welcome you into the Temple to begin the path to becoming a Jedi Knight.”

Cody hadn’t quite lost the shock on his face, but it was starting to turn to enthusiastic nodding.

“You can take some time to think it over.  Feel free to spend some time with your siblings first, and take as much time as you need to confirm how you’re feeling about being back in the tent and performing.  The Order would be happy to help you do whatever restitution you feel you need to do as one of the elements of your training, or give you whatever support you need to do it independently.”

There was more Obi-Wan could have said, but he belatedly realized Cody’s face had fallen the moment he mentioned Cody’s siblings.  Suspecting he could guess the cause, he finished: “And one of the very first things we can teach you  –  and all the rest of your siblings  –  to do is cast your own teleportation circles to send letters  –  and eventually yourselves  –  through to stay in touch with each other.”

“We could stay in touch?” Cody’s voice was full of hope.

“Oh, Cody, of course!  Besides, how else are we going to keep the rest of your family informed when we track down the rest of your missing siblings?”  Obi-Wan couldn’t help the mischievous smile growing on his face.

“Thank you,” Cody said, throwing his arms around Obi-Wan in a hug.  “Now come on, we have to go tell the others!”

Chapter Text

“Really?!  There are how many different possible greetings for Summer lords, ladies, and ledans?  And we’re just supposed to memorize who insists on which one?”

“Madame Nu had some suggestions about those when she saw me struggling with them in the Archive earlier. Turns out there are patterns, they just aren’t obvious ones.  Look, I’ll help you get these figured out, if you’ll help me with our botany homework.  Master Sinube assigned me an extra essay on top of the regular work.”

“What did you do to get your truth potion to explode like that, anyway?”

“Used the wrong kind of mushroom, I think.  On the minus side, drinking it would have been very bad.  On the plus side, Master Sinube said that once I’m clear on what I did, he’ll help me refine it into a safer recipe I can send to Wolffe for the circus to add to their special effects collection.  But before I can do any of that I have to write a thorough guide on how to tell the two species of mushroom apart.”

“Not before healing class you aren’t!”

“Oops!  And it’s at the college all the way across town, too.  Race you there!”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan looked up at the giant blue and gold tent.  Colors aside, it looked remarkably similar to how it had appeared that first time he had seen it in Coruscant’s market square.  Lessu’s market square wasn’t as large as Coruscant’s, however, so this time the tent had set up in a field a little ways outside of town.  

That hadn’t done a thing to hurt its popularity, judging by the line waiting to get in.  

And just like that first time, Obi-Wan wasn’t attending alone  –  though this time he was taking his current squire, rather than a former squire and grand-squire.  Cody had come a long way from the very first time he had returned to the half-collapsed circus tent, fearful, guilty, and angry.  Now there was nothing but pride and enthusiasm as he looked at what his siblings had rebuilt.

As they reached the head of the line and entered the tent, Thire, on ticket-duty, did an impressive double-take as he realized who was in front of him.  Only Cody’s desperate signs asking him for secrecy kept him from announcing Cody’s presence to the entire tent.  

(He still flat-out refused to let either of them pay.)

Obi-Wan had been impressed by the shows the circus had performed under Palpatine, but that was nothing to what they could do now that they were out from under his control.  Every performer on stage was there because they wanted to be, and in the role they wanted to be in, and the difference was profound.  And while various of Cody’s siblings had either followed his lead into the Jedi Order, or found their ways into any number of other professions, the stage was fuller than ever with the addition of Twi’leks, Dwarves, Goblins, Mon Calamari, plus a dozen more races he could recognize, and at least half a dozen others he couldn’t.

As the performance ended and Obi-Wan stood with the rest of the audience to give the performers a standing ovation, Cody gave him a gentle tug.  Obi-Wan followed, curious, and Cody led them around to the side of the stage where they slipped in through a “Staff Only” door.  

The curtain closed, the applause ended, and the entire cast trooped off the stage to find Cody and Obi-Wan waiting for them in the wings.

“Cody!” rang out from a dozen voices as the group noticed their visitors, and Cody was immediately pounced upon by all those of his siblings who had been performing on stage.  As they heard the excitement, those of his siblings who preferred a backstage role ran up.  Led by Echo, they took one look at the swarm surrounding Cody and turned to offer an only slightly more restrained greeting to Obi-Wan.

The various after-performance tasks were accomplished in record time, and soon the entire group was sprawled out in the green room backstage, peppering Cody and Obi-Wan with questions.

The first of which, unsurprisingly, was why they hadn’t told anyone they were coming.  

“Perhaps because we didn’t even know we were going to be in the area?” Cody answered archly, before relenting.  “Enough people know now about the research Obi-Wan has been helping me with about detecting and breaking geasa that we’re starting to get called upon more and more when there are suspected cases of someone under a geas. ”

“In this case,” Obi-Wan smoothly took up the story, “there was a young man who was accused of starting a fight with a neighbor, but several of his friends had testified that some of his actions made them suspect he was under a geas, so we were called in.  And yet something about the situation seemed odd, so Cody had a brilliant idea  –  he chanted some dramatic nonsense and told the man he was free, at which point the man practically tripped over himself to thank Cody for “freeing” him and then immediately accused one of his neighbors of controlling him and making him start the fight.  At which point the magistrate of the case, a minor mage zerself, pointed out that Cody hadn’t actually cast a counterspell, proving the young man had never been under a geas to begin with.  So the young man, along with his compatriots, got a month of community service for starting fights and another six months beyond that for the attempted deception and false accusation, and we cleared the name of the Zeltron he was accusing before anyone started stringing her up for Dark Magic.”

“So it all worked out in the end, and even better, it finished much faster than we were worried it might for a bit, so when we realized we weren’t that far away from you all, we knew we had to stop in for a visit!”

The group exclaimed excitedly over the story for a few minutes, before one voice rose among the rest:  “And what about Rex?” Dogma demanded.  “His letters are always far too short!”

Obi-Wan hid a smile.  Dogma firmly believed that any letter with less than an hour-by-hour recounting was insufficiently detailed, and had no patience for Rex’s attempts to argue that squires simply didn’t have enough hours in the day to complete all their training and lessons and satisfy Dogma’s record-keeping needs.  

Rex had compromised by giving Dogma permission to interrogate Cody whenever they were in the same vicinity.

“Let’s see…” Cody started, leaning forward in his chair in the storytelling mode that never failed to remind Obi-Wan that Cody had spent years as one of the best performers in any Realm.  “I last saw Rex a week ago, as he and Master Yaddle were heading out on a quest to the assumed-to-be-mythical Realm led by the Lady of Mandalore.  Following hints in an ancient journal Madame Nu unearthed in the Jedi Archives based on the information you all were able to gather from your armored visitors a few weeks ago, Rex and Master Yaddle plan to travel through the borders of the Winter Realm, past the Ice Mountains of Ilum, searching for any news of our final missing sibling  –  00, rumored to have been given the Name Boba, the one taken as the payment for our creation….”

THE END