Ahsoka really hated her ballgown – if the ornate scraps of deep purple fabric twisting down her back from her shoulders and into a slitted skirt at her hips even fell under the definition of 'gown'. The only thing solid about the construction was the matching bandeau pressing her breasts tight to her chest; the rest of her felt like she was one stiff breeze away from billowing out like a solar sail and flying away. She'd just have to hope that if it came to that, the excessive amount of golden jewelry adorning her arms and montrals would be enough to weigh her down.

Still, there was something kind of nice about getting ready for a fancy party. Lux's excitement was contagious, and memories of Padmé fussing over Ahsoka's borrowed gown at that ball on Alderaan were never far from her mind. Even closer – and more painful to think about – were the times she and Anakin had been invited to diplomatic functions on Coruscant. They'd only ever wanted to go as themselves, without even the very modest frills of Jedi dress robes, but Anakin had always loved a change in routine. Especially if said change meant ready access to quality spirits.

Ahsoka could still remember the feeling of his hair between her fingers when, on one occasion, he'd had her help him fashion it into four neatly braided rows on the sides of his head while the rest of it hung free. She wondered what he'd say to the heavy makeup that had been slathered on her face. A smile crossed her lips. She didn't have to wonder. She already knew; she could almost hear his laughter.

Longing made her stomach clench, and her smile faded. The mission, the voice of reason hissed at her, seizing the opening. Remember your mission. These things are of Lux's world, not yours. The sooner you focus, the sooner you can see Anakin again.

She'd nearly finished scrubbing the makeup off again when Lux and his retinue – his servant Dakharen and a trio of guards – showed up in the mirror of his suite's large refresher. Ahsoka winced. Her eyes were red and puffy with the effort of trying to dislodge whatever darkening agent the servants had put on her lashes, and the water still dripping from her face made it look like she'd just been crying.

Apparently, the last vestiges of her makeup were waterproof. Kriff.

Despite the mess, he lit up when he saw her, affection and warmth coming off him in waves she didn't need the Force to sense. Ahsoka's lekku heated up. Lux, of course, looked radiant, eyelids dusky with kohl and smile bright. His cheeks were powdered with light sheens to accentuate the plains and shadows and to soften the curves, and beneath it all, an excited flush of his own was blooming.

"We match."

Ahsoka snorted, eyeing his clothing – particularly the way his tunic fit around his hips. His outfit certainly covered more skin than hers did. "Do we? Do we really?"

"We both have capes," he pointed out.

Ahsoka ran a skeptical hand down her back, following the complex way her cape – if it could be called a cape – folded into the back of her skirt with her fingers. "Does this even count?"

"I'm doing this all wrong. Let me rephrase." Lux grabbed her hand before it could fall back to her side and sketched a flawless bow. He kissed her knuckles softly, more breath than lip, and she shivered. "You look beautiful, and I'm delighted that a small part of that comes from what our clothing has in common."

Ahsoka flushed darker. Lux beamed.

"You're sure in fine spirits this evening," she managed after a moment. Whatever walls he'd been trying to keep around himself, Lux hadn't taken the heat of the city into account. He didn't have enough willpower to maintain them without constant watch, and since she'd joined in on his outfit evaluation yesterday, he'd definitely been too busy to mind how he spoke to her.

It made her feel ten times better about going into this than she would have with a virtual stranger on her arm. But she still didn't know why he'd locked himself  up in his icy fortress the first place. She certainly hadn't been brave enough to ask him, and that worried her. Before that stupid kiss in the jungle, she would've been.

Maybe after Lux got back from Alderaan, things would be better. Maybe then, she could put him to Ludda's test, and they could have what they once had again.

"Mission, mission, mission," she hissed, shaking her head. Her attachment to him was getting out of hand. He was a good friend, but the only reason she should be interested in testing him was to evaluate his potential as an ally to the Rebellion.

"Pardon?"

In a flash, Ahsoka realized Lux had answered her. Her mumbling must've sounded like some kind of reply. "Oh, that was just me, uh... cursing my lack of concentration tonight," she blurted. "I zoned out for that last part."

"I said I hope you haven't forgotten that I asked for a–"

The front door of Lux's suite slid open, and a pair of heavy boots punched an angry, staccato beat into the marble. "Aluxsidrian? Gods above, what is taking you so kriffing long? Aluxsidrian!"

Lux's smile drained off his face, and up sprang the walls of ice. Ahsoka started toward him (to shield him or console him, she didn't know), but Zakhan Noreino tore through the 'fresher door before she could get close. And he was livid.

Lux crossed his arms behind his back as though standing at attention, hands hidden by his cape in the picture of respect and subservience. But even as Ahsoka bowed low, hoping to gloss over any faux-pas Zakhan might still remember from the auction with a veneer of servility, she couldn't miss the defiant cant of Lux's brow as he inclined his head in greeting.

"Insolent boy, you were supposed to make your entrance in the Great Hall ten minutes ago! I demand an ex–" Then, for the first time, he actually saw Lux through his fury. Somehow, impossibly, his anger ticked up another notch, and he clenched a fistful of Lux's rich mauve cape in whitened knuckles. "What in the gods' names are. You. Wearing."

"Oh, this old thing? I found it while I was deciding on my attire for the gala," Lux said innocently. "Mother always loved the midsummer festivities, and I feel like I'm taking a piece of her back into high society with me in wearing it. It's fitting, no?"

At that, Lux looked outright smug, and for the second time in four days Ahsoka was painfully aware that some secret message in the nobility's clothing choices was flying over her head. She'd have to pay better attention now that she was back in Kyzeron. It was starting to feel a little ridiculous.

For a few long seconds, father and son waged a battle of silent glares and twisted lips; behind them, Dakharen and the guards shifted uneasily. Then, finally, Zakhan shifted his grip to Lux's shoulder and half-pushed, half-threw him toward the door. "Confound it, there's no time anymore for you to change. Get moving."

"Alynna," Lux called softly from the next room, holding his hand out for her. Managing a faint smile, Ahsoka made to follow. Her fingers had nearly touched his when Zakhan stepped between them, looking down a full foot to meet her eyes, and Ahsoka flailed to a stop half a step from walking right into him.

"Not you," he said disdainfully. "You, clearly, are not finished getting ready."

Ahsoka glanced back at her reflection. The red rimming her eyes was gone, thankfully, but with her face wet and a facecloth still clenched in her hand, Zakhan probably thought she'd splashed her makeup off to begin again. She surreptitiously hid the rag behind her back.

Lux winced. "Find me later, all right, Alynna?"

Ahsoka nodded and bowed low as his father motioned sharply to the guards. They formed up around Lux, boxing him in, and before she knew it they were gone.

Zakhan eyed Ahsoka for a long moment, as though he could break her down and quantify the very essence of her by looking at her. Just as she was about to ask if she could help him with anything – it was expected of her, and the less she appeared out of place, the more likely he was to let her go about her business in peace – he turned to leave, waving for Dakharen to fall into step with him.

They began speaking as they reached the door out of Lux's suites into the hallway beyond, their voices so low that at that distance any Human would've been hard-pressed to catch what they were saying. But Ahsoka wasn't Human.

"Do you still have that running list of potential suitors I gave you?"

"Yes, my Lord – it's all in my wrist comm." Ahsoka didn't dare leave the 'fresher to watch the two men's expressions, but it was easy to imagine the genteel old manservant's bushy grey brows rising in surprise. "I have them arrange in order of priority, as you requested, with a few less affluent candidates sprinkled in so no one can accuse the young Lord of going in with a hit list."

"Drop the pretenses, Dakharen. I don't care if he looks like a man on a mission; he is one, and now that I've announced he's officially available for courting, every noble with a brain knows it, too." Zakhan sighed. "Feed him marks to meet with. Make sure his dance card is always full. Just keep Aluxsidrian away from that girl for the rest of the night. He's far too affectionate with her, and if people get the wrong idea, she'll hurt his prospects."

"Yes, my Lord."

Then, with a rustle of rich fabrics and the swish of the door opening and closing, the pair were gone, and Ahsoka was alone.

Ahsoka tossed her makeup-streaked facecloth in the sink and leaned back against the counter, the marble cool against her palms. She'd been offered an out. Even skilled people sometimes took the better part of an hour to do their makeup, and Ahsoka would hardly call herself skilled. The servants who'd puffed and primped her had long since been called away to the quarters to style the other slaves for the long night ahead. There was no one here to hold her accountable.

But Lux had always spoken so highly of his reliable advisor who'd served under his mother before him. Dakharen might not see taking orders from the father as betraying his loyalties to the son, but Ahsoka didn't trust Zakhan for a second – not with the way he treated Lux. If they wanted to lead Lux around by the nose like a baby shaak, the least she could do was give him a heads-up.

The gala wouldn't be so bad if she could find herself something to drink and a quiet vantage point away from the sycophants and suitors who were too handsy for their own good. If this party was anything like the ones they threw on Coruscant, there were sure to be dozens of extravagant outfits to point and laugh at.

She only wished Anakin were there to laugh with her.

Ahsoka shook the thought away as she tightened the golden sandal straps crisscrossing her calves and smoothed down a stray fold of her skirt. She wasn't going to delude herself into thinking she'd actually have a good time, but few Rebel operatives ever had the chance to get this close to power. There was no telling what kind of juicy details she'd overhear, or connections she'd witness being made – and that was well worth the number of hopefuls she'd have to remind that her slave's garb wasn't a free pass at her before the night was over.

She took one last look at the girl in the big 'fresher mirror, and unexpectedly found herself smiling. The Sky-walker could change their shape into whatever they wished, and so could she. Her flimsy excuse for a ballgown didn't symbolize her inability to choose. It was a disguise that would get her within earshot of all kinds of conversations unnoticed – including Lux's, when she found an opening to warn him.

Okay, she took it back. Maybe this was going to be just a tiny bit fun.

The cold, gloomy Great Hall of Noreino House would never be inviting by any stretch of the imagination. But brightly lit by immense geometric chandeliers and crowded with a few hundred guests, at least it felt lived in.

Ahsoka managed to slip in through a servant's entrance with only a quick scan at the hands of a guard in Noreino livery to confirm she was indeed one of the palace slaves. Then, like any one of a few dozen other newcomers, it was all she could do not to stare blankly at the opulence around and above her.

Thick swaths of rich purple cloth the same shade as her dress blossomed out from the centermost chandelier, hanging just loose enough from their anchors on the ceiling to give the impression of petals. The other, less ornate chandeliers had been given much the treatment with differently colored draperies – vermillion, turquoise, lavender, emerald, fuchsia, cornflower, amber – and the bands nearest to the walls streaked downward to obscure or adorn the painted stone.

Ahsoka felt like she was in a freefall looking down at a bed of exquisite flowers hedged with tall grasses – a fantastical place where the rich and high-born sampled fine spirits and delicate finger foods from tables bracketing a dance floor on the sky, watching their fellows dance in complete defiance of gravity.

She'd only spoken with Lady Chrysilika once since arriving at Noreino House, but something about the way this presentation blunted the hard, unforgiving nature of the space had the perceptive noblewoman's touch.

Lux had left their rooms for the Great Hall only a few minutes before she had, but if he was here, he'd already been swallowed up by the crowd. She parted her lips a fraction to taste the air, searching for the herbal-within-citrusy smell that was as familiar to her now as her own. She nearly gagged when the smoke from a nearby censer hit the roof of her mouth, a dozen heady roots and oils all muddled together.

Well, that was the end of that. She'd have to find him the old-fashioned way.

Ahsoka performed a perimeter sweep of the cavernous room as quickly as she could, deftly avoiding the couples stealing a moment alone on the semi-private adjoining verandas rendered even more intimate by the draperies obscuring the doors. On some, she caught flashes of gauzy, shadows-darkened fabric and the same gold jewelry weighing on her own arms; clearly, Zakhan Noreino hadn't invited the other pleasure slaves to the gala just so they could stand around and look pretty.

Ahsoka shivered and tightened her circuit by a few paces, keeping closer to the center of the room. If someone grabbed her and pulled her out of the light, she wasn't sure she could risk a mind trick to dissuade them.

It was there, at the edge of the dance floor, that that Ahsoka caught a glimpse of a dusky mauve cape between the well-dressed shoulders of two people sipping at brightly hued drinks. Then, it was gone again.

Much as it was with their architecture, Onderonian dances usually revolved around complex, sharply angled choreography formed by many members; these broke into base pairs or trios as they moved from one shape to the next. A large group of dancers viewed from above – a mezzanine or a private box, perhaps – made a kaleidoscope of jumbled rhombuses and sharp angles extravagant outfits a decent substitute for the psychedelic bursts of color.

Exactly which patterns and base units were used in a dance was decided by the genre of music and the tempo. This piece was a slow waltz meant for two main partners who switched with other couples frequently, and had a lot of tricky spins and footwork to keep up with the larger display. The odds were slim that the caped dancer would pass this way again, but still...

Ahsoka shuffled and swerved as close to the front of the cluster of onlookers as she could. She made it just in time to see Lux spin past on the arm of a gorgeous young man with deeply tanned skin, curly black hair, and eyes like coals touched by golden flame. The pretty flush Lux had had for her in the refresher was back on his cheeks, and he looked completely enthralled. Ahsoka understood – really, she did – but did he seriously have to go grinning like an idiot at the first beautiful face to cross his path like that?

Jealousy is the shadow of greed, a voice that was remarkably like Anakin's murmured at the back of her mind. Ahsoka forced that train of thought to switch tracks back to the present with a sigh. It wasn't jealousy if Lux wasn't bound to her – which he certainly wasn't, no matter what she could swear she felt brewing between them some days – but Jedi could allow themselves the luxury of envy on occasion.

Lux's partner took him by the waist and swung him up into the air between steps, much to the delight of the crowd. Averting her eyes and letting the gasps and applause muffle her whispered curse or two, Ahsoka made a beeline for the nearest refreshments table. There were glasses of champagne arrayed in a dizzying spiral on one end of it, but she wasn't about to trust drinks she hadn't seen made at a party like this. Fortunately, the far side of the table doubled as a bar for custom orders.

"I'll take one Corellian Sunrise, lighter on the sunfruit liquor," she said to the bartender, a smartly dressed Twi'lek with blue skin. If he thought it was strange that a slave was ordering herself a cocktail, he didn't say as much, and before long she had the dawn-colored drink in hand, complete with a little decorative kebab of meiloorun cubes.

She'd just sucked the first cube off the skewer when a voice she recognized in a split-second and would be perfectly happy never hearing again cut through the din. "Why, if it isn't Lord Aluxsidrian's little pet! I hoped I'd see you here tonight."

Lady Noronessa came into view, immaculately dressed in her usual head scarf and a fetching traditional slitted tunic. Ahsoka froze, the skewer still stuck between her teeth. Instinct took over. Plunking the kebab back in her glass, she bowed low. Humility was her only defense now. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be drinking on the job, as it were, and there would be no passing the drink off as an errand she was running for Lux now that she'd been caught sampling it.

"My Lady, your notice honors me," Ahsoka said demurely, gaze still planted firmly on the floor. She managed to strike the perfect balance between awed and cowed on the first try, and was that ever a relief. Normally she could only stomach a line like that when it was heavily salted with sarcasm.

Noronessa waved her politeness off with a manicured hand. "Don't bother with that, Commander. You'll only wear yourself out."

Ahsoka's jaw dropped. Did Lady Noronessa know who she really was? Had she recognized her from a function or a campaign or some contraband holos of the Republic's old Clone Wars heroes? Her heart leapt to her throat at the thought, closing her airways up so tightly she could barely breathe around it. Even more far-fetched, was this pompous noblewoman working for the Rebellion?

No, she couldn't be. None but a few trusted individuals knew Ahsoka was back in touch with the Rebellion in the first place, and not a one of them would send a courier without informing her when the situation on the planet was still so tense.

She forced herself into outward calm even as she quietly began to chip away at the mental walls keeping her disconnected to the Force from the inside, readying her senses for a quick escape should one be needed. Choosing the safest tact, she echoed, " 'Commander'?"

"Oh!" Lady Noronessa covered her mouth as though suppressing a giggle, but the look in her eyes was poisonous. "I do beg your pardon. It's a little joke of mine. You have such a command over Aluxsidrian's heart, I can't help but be reminded of a general on the battlefield pointing her loyal foot soldier at the next target she wants him to attack."

"He is a kind Master, my Lady, but I have no such influence over him," Ahsoka said as she straightened up again, a little more at ease but still wary. Why was Lady Noronessa so interested in speaking with her when half of Kyzeron's elite were here as well? What was her game?

Suddenly Ahsoka had second thoughts about her Corellian Sunrise. Her tolerance was at an all-time low, and even with more mixer in it than usual, she was starting to suspect she'd need all her faculties at her disposal this evening.

Noronessa rolled her eyes. "You must know him well enough by now to tell the difference between genteel fakery and true enjoyment." She motioned back to the dance floor, and as Lux's dancing partner lifted him into the air again, Ahsoka caught a glimpse of his face.

It was only a quick look, so quick Ahsoka nearly missed it. On the surface, Lux still looked as captivated as before, a bright grin splitting his cheeks as a startled laugh escaped him. But underneath...

"He's not smiling with his eyes."

"Good girl. There's hope for you yet. You might even survive what's coming."

Ahsoka's brows shot up. "I beg your pardon?"

"Surely you've guessed why Lord Aluxsidrian is attending this gala after over two years out of the public eye."

Lady Chrysilika's warning about marriages and matches in the hallway by the landing pad came back to Ahsoka in a flash, but she shook her head, playing dumb. "He's here because his father the Lord Imperator expects him to be, my Lady."

"A perceptive answer, but not quite on the nose," Noronessa said with a grin, sidling closer as though preparing to confide a secret. "Rumor around town was that Lord Noreino decided he's held his Heir-Designate over our heads long enough, and tonight, that was proved right. Aluxsidrian is here to start looking for a spouse."

"He doesn't look like he wants to be," Ahsoka said, feeling oddly defensive, "so why should he?"

"Oh, you sweet girl. Haven't you noticed almost everyone here is our age?"

Ahsoka pursed her lips. Lady Noronessa gestured to the other guests, and, with a sigh, Ahsoka obliged and gave them a closer look.

Her brows rose. Noronessa was right. Aside from a few individuals dressed as attendants or personal guards, nearly everyone Ahsoka could see looked under thirty Standard years old; most, she'd guess, were in their early twenties.

"All the heads of the Great and Lesser Houses went to Iziz to attend King Dendup's midsummer festivities – save the Lord Imperator, of course," Noronessa went on. "But all the young people ­– the future leaders of Onderon's nobility and bourgeoisie – are here, forging new alliances. As far as I'm concerned, that sends a clear message about where the Houses' priorities lie."

"He shouldn't have to court anyone if he doesn't want to," Ahsoka reiterated.

"Oh, it's not all bad; he'll like some of the other contenders better than others. The man he's dancing with is Lord Ejan, son of a Bonaga shipping magnate. I expect his family bribed a few of the other Great Houses to give Ejan a shot to woo Aluxsidrian before he's too worn out to remember new faces." Noronessa clicked her tongue in distaste. "Sooner or later his family will have to learn money can't buy them everything they want." She paused, tapping a fingertip to her chin. "Still, those two make a striking couple. And that tan... oh, I wish I could tan that dark."

Ahsoka went very still. The way Noronessa had slurred the word tan, and the choice of filler word that had followed it... Well, sentient brains were wired to look for patterns, and she knew better than to jump at every shadow that moved without warning, but it sounded an awful lot like her last name.

"Say, Alynna, have you ever been to Coruscant?"

Ahsoka glanced surreptitiously around her, searching for some way to make a quick exit. It was crystal clear to her now why Lux found Noronessa so unnerving; watching him bear the brunt of her razorblade questions was difficult enough, but being in the line of fire herself was downright freaky.

Was the petite noblewoman just toying with her because she didn't think a slave girl would fire back, or did she actually know something? Ahsoka was getting too frazzled from all these mind games to tell.

"I hail from Shili, my Lady," Ahsoka forced out, scraping together a few truths that when spoken out of order would tell a different story altogether. "I spent most of my life there."

"Well, if ever Aluxsidrian goes to visit and brings you along, make sure he gets both of you invitations to one of the Senate functions. Doesn't matter which; there are dozens every month. But truly, they are not to be missed. In fact–"

A knot of people too deep in conversation to watch their surroundings had been slowly edging closer for the past few minutes. When Ahsoka angled herself back a fraction and felt someone's arm there, it was the chance she'd been waiting for. She tightened the angle of her body, making as though she'd bumped into the person behind her, and let her Corellian Sunrise fall to the floor.

The tall glass broke on impact. The people standing closest to her scrambled to hike long pants and skirts and capes out of the mess, shrieking or cursing her carelessness. Ahsoka made a pacifying gesture and bowed quickly.

"Forgive my clumsiness, my Lady, and please excuse my leaving you so unceremoniously, but I need to fetch the custodian before someone slips in this."

Noronessa smiled conspiratorially, and for a tense moment, Ahsoka was sure she'd seen right through the ruse. But she only moved to loosen her scarf. "Oh, very well. In case I don't see you again before the gala is over, bid you good evening."

"Thank you, my Lady," Ahsoka said, and forged off through the throng of guests, twisting and turning to throw off pursuers or curious onlookers watching her go with their eyes. The second she was clear, she aimed straight for another refreshments table and swiped a glass of bubbly green champagne from the display. Then, pressing her back to the wall, she lifted it to her lips and took a long swig.

It was several minutes before Ahsoka was able to calm her racing heart and silence the panicked voices at the back of her mind debating how much Noronessa knew – if she knew anything at all. Jedi didn't believe in coincidences, but Ahsoka did believe in false positives. Until she was sure her cover was blown, she wouldn't give in to paranoia. What she would do was make a contingency plan.

Step one: keep an eye on the ebb and flow of the crowd for Noreino guards in plainclothes or livery moving toward her. Step two: head for the stairwell down to the kitchens. There was a servants' exit there, and the guards would expect her to leave that way. While they were distracted locking the exit down and checking IDs, she could take the turbolift near the training arena back up to Lux's suite and grab her transmitter, a change of clothes, and some jewelry to pawn – steps three and four. Step five: leave from the landing pad on the same floor.

A hard burn with the Force and she could make the jump over the palace walls and onto the rooftops beyond. If she was quick enough about it, she'd probably escape Elite detection. From there, it was just a matter of reaching Moonspinner Inn and getting Tosi to cut out her tracker before she hightailed it to the border villages.

If her luck held, she wouldn't have to go further than step one. Playing the fly on the wall for the rest of the night was fine by her; the only thing she was really keen on was telling Lux what she'd overheard his father and Dakharen saying. All she had to do now was hunker down, sip her drink, and wait for a chance to do that.

After a near miss with Noronessa – if it was even an attack at all – Ahsoka's settled in a quiet corner wait for the right moment to speak to Lux. But the gala holds many dangers, least of which are the unsavory characters who were invited. Why are Dakharen and Zakhan so determined to keep Ahsoka out of the crossfire from their schemes against Lux? Are Ahsoka's precautions to conceal her identity more transparent than she thinks they are? Has Noronessa guessed or somehow been tipped off that Alynna Taari is not, in fact, Alynna Taari at all? Only time will tell...

I was initially reluctant to post these two chapters together, cause the ones that made the most sense to post together were this one and the next one – the gala in its entirety. But this gives me a great chance to showcase Noronessa's scheming with Vader AND Ahsoka, and hint at her motivations, which is delightful.

I'm also announcing that the next chapter is the last one on the weekly updates schedule. After that, I'll be posting every two weeks, cause between getting a driver's license and doing some supplementary art classes to get ready for next semester, I'm going to need time during the summer. Plus, building up a bank of chapters for the school year will help me out a ton, as I said in the last update. I'll stick with Wednesdays for now, but if there are any changes I'll let you guys know :)

Next chapter, Noronessa and Lux will go head to head and try to figure out what the other knows, and when it ends badly, he'll be in need of some encouragement to cheer him. I'll talk to you guys then!