Four Kisses
Summary: The first kiss was an accident. The second was to save a mission. The third was unexpected. And the fourth – that was the last kiss. The guy? Obi-Wan Kenobi. Me? Valaina Ilori. Our relationship? Well, let me put it this way – the war kinda ruined it.
Rating: T due to some of the more suggestive parts of the story
Genre: angst (emotional & a little physical) ; friendship ; romance
Canon Character(s): Obi-Wan Kenobi ; Anakin Skywalker
OC Character(s): Valaina Ilori
Set During: mainly ROTS (and some scattered memories before TPM)
Note: If that last part at the end rings a bell with anyone, it's modeled after the last part in Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid. I read it in one adaptation a long time ago, and it just sort of stuck with me, so . . . And if you don't recognize it, just ignore me and enjoy the story.
19 BBY (ROTS)
~ Valaina Ilori ~
If you had told me thirteen years ago that the sweet, gentle, curious little boy that had just come to the Temple to be trained would one day become – not our savior, our Hero With No Fear, our Chosen One as Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn claimed – but our death, the death of the Jedi Order, I would have thought you were out of your mind . . . or really needed to get a mental evaluation immediately.
And yet so he would be.
At first, I had ignored the grunts and snap-hisses that were emanating from the main hall. Master Cin Drallig had been training his students there, and as he was as lightsaber master, dueling was expected.
But when the Force had rippled with the screams of the dying, I had immediately known something was wrong.
I had run outside, lightsaber hilt in my hand, to find what looked like a never-stopping flow of clones pouring into the Temple, blasters and rifles blazing, and Jedi all over fighting . . . and falling. It was like Geonosis all over again – just worse, much worse.
Only . . . that time, we hadn't been fighting clones.
Clones we had worked with. Clones we had trained. Clones who served with and under us.
And now, they were killing us.
Even so, it was hard to harm them.
But I had no choice. The Clone Wars had taken away what remained of my willful brain. With guns blazing and people falling, my instincts kicked in at once.
My lightsaber jumped to life and immediately two clones fell under its blade when they rushed at me. And a third, as I ran across the hall. And a fourth, as I jumped to avoid some shots. And a fifth. And a sixth.
Soon, I lost count.
But I had other things on my mind.
I passed several bodies, wincing each time – and noting that each contained a smoking hole for a wound.
Only a lightsaber could inflict a wound like that, but . . .
Up ahead, I could see Master Drallig fighting furiously with someone I assumed was the commander of the clones. As I ran up, one of his students who was fighting besides him screamed – and the scream abruptly cut up into a watery gurgle as a blue lightsaber blade appeared in his throat.
A Jedi blade.
A Jedi was fighting us.
A Jedi was . . . was . . . killing us.
Before my mind had even begun to register that, Master Drallig sidestepped a blow and caught sight of me. Instantly, the Force rolled out from him and I stumbled backwards as it reached me.
Even in battle, he wasn't a Jedi Master for nothing.
He wanted me to leave. To run. To save myself and leave him behind.
Jedi do not abandon their comrades.
Within an instant, I had overcome his Force-suggestion and was regaining the distance I had lost.
But it was already an instant far too late.
The traitor took full advantage of Master Drallig's momentary distraction. Three more blows, and Master Drallig fell.
Fury consumed me, and when I reached the traitor, my blade was already whistling towards his heart with all the strength I had in me.
He knew.
Somehow, he knew.
And he was . . . he was a master.
My strength did not lie in use of the lightsaber. I was good enough, but not as good as some of the Masters, like Mace Windu or Yoda or Dooku. I was tolerable, but so were all Jedi. No, my strength lay in manipulating the Force, generally for healing.
So I was at a disadvantage. A big one.
I missed a parry, and a charred smell reached my nose – but thankfully my tunic had taken the majority of the damage.
Another block missed two furious exchanges later – my leg twitched as the lightsaber slid that close to severing the main muscle that controlled it.
The traitor sidestepped suddenly, as Master Drallig had, his blade whirling a blue shield of a master defense I couldn't even begin to hope to penetrate. The only defense I had seen surpassing it would have been that of Obi-Wan Kenobi – and perhaps the only attack that could have gotten through it would have been one from Master Yoda.
So I threw a feint to his right shoulder.
Big mistake.
A blur, a shift, a sigh.
I crumpled to the ground soundlessly as my lightsaber hilt rolled uselessly from my hand.
The traitor threw back his hood, and I stared through increasingly cloudy eyes into the furious yellow irises of Anakin Skywalker.
He stepped over me with contempt on his face, and my world went black.
Moments – or was it hours? – later, the Force surged once and then twice around me and my consciousness rolled tiredly around in my body as someone shook it.
I felt like all the strength had gone out of my muscles. Opening my eyes took more out of me than healing a person one step away from death. And that was really saying something.
Slowly, the world came into focus – and everything suddenly focused on Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He stopped shaking me when he realized my eyes were open. In the background, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Master Yoda, his ears drooping and his eyes carrying an unspeakable, unbearable sadness.
Sound returned abruptly.
" – to me, please!" Obi-Wan was saying, a note of panic in his voice.
"O . . . Obi-Wan," I croaked out. "H . . . How?"
I found myself suddenly crushed against his chest, his arms tight around my shoulders. It was so tight that I could barely breathe, much less move – not that I really cared right at this moment. How had Obi-Wan gotten in here? How had he found me?
"Thank the Force you're alive," he whispered in my ear.
He released me slightly, enough so I could breathe at least, but he did not let me go.
I stared into his blue-green eyes, the eyes that expressed the love he felt for me that he could not say. I saw the horror and the confusion and desperation in them, emotions I had not seen since Master Jinn's death on Naboo so long ago. I saw how everything was just all jumbled together in a breathtakingly indescribable mix in his eyes, eyes that were the only part of his Jedi mask that he allowed to reflect how he truly felt.
And then I knew I was dying.
I stared into his eyes, swirling depths of blue and green, and suddenly I was jolted back to twenty years ago, when he was eighteen and I seventeen.
The first kiss was an accident.
It had happened during a training mission on Ragoon-6. Only this time, it was different from the normal kind. Normally, training missions were done with Master-Padawan teams to strengthen their bond as they tracked another, usually retired Jedi Master. It would last for about a week and when they returned, most of the time the Master-Padawan teams got along much better.
But this time, both Master Jinn and Obi-Wan were recovering from severe changes in their lives. And I was as well, for my Master had recently fallen gravely ill and died, leaving me in limbo until I was chosen by another Knight.
And so instead of being with a Master-Padawan team, the Council split us up.
To forge help each of us learn to trust fellow Jedi again, they put me with Obi-Wan and my new Master with Master Jinn. To help strength our bond, they made us apprentices track the Masters to learn how they worked.
It was frustrating.
I was by no means a young Padawan Learner, but Obi-Wan was stronger in the Force and more experienced – and therefore, constantly outshone me.
Needless to say, we didn't get along that well.
By the nightfall of our third night together, the tension was so high that it finally exploded.
We fought. And not nicely either.
He told me I was young and naive and easy prey. I was too easily seen through, too easily fooled. If I was ever Knighted, he said to me, it would be a long time – and it would be a barely passed Trials at that.
I retorted that he was stiff and unsympathetic and had no connection to the Living Force. He was too closed-minded, too cold. If he was ever Knighted, I shouted, then I would know the lowest standard the Council set for Knights.
In the end, I stormed off, so furious I didn't even pay attention to my surroundings, a basic technique taught to younglings less than a third my age.
I found a cave to spend the night in, sheltered from the outside world and night predators and danger.
Or so I thought.
In the middle of night, the cave flooded with water. I found myself floundering in water, soaked to the bone to the point where hypothermia was starting to kick in and I found it harder and harder to swim. I fumbled for and then dropped my rebreather. I was slammed into so many rock formations and walls that soon my vision started going hazy from the lack of oxygen, constant barrage, and freezing cold.
I went under and I felt the sensation of weightlessness.
Then the Force surged.
There was an enormous ripple of bubbles, as though something big had fallen in. An arm wrapped around my waist as hand slammed into my stomach.
I choked, my diaphragm contracting in a reflexive training maneuver instilled in me from my late Master, and water spewed from my lungs. A rebreather was pushed into my mouth, and I desperately gasped in the refreshing, needed air.
I found the strength to swim, strength that grew with each upward stroke and gasp of air.
Which was good, because my rescuer's strength was decreasing. The person obviously did not have a rebreather, because I found that soon I was the one drawing the person up instead of the other way around.
Finally, the water shimmered faintly and then broke over my head. We had made it back to the surface.
I was forced to draw on the Force to heave my rescuer out of the water; I just wasn't strong enough and the person was heavy – and, apparently, unconscious. But when I finally rubbed the water out of my eyes and shook back my dripping hair and looked at my rescuer, I couldn't believe my eyes.
It was Obi-Wan.
He was still and pale and soaked, with the watery sunlight of early morning giving him the appearance of a drowned man. Somehow, he had sensed I was in danger. Somehow, he had managed to find me.
I checked for vital signs – he was fine. He must have just inhaled too much water; the Force and training only lasted so long against self-preservation instincts, after all.
And that was when I realized that he had suddenly stopped breathing.
Even so, I still hesitated before leaning over him and drawing in a quick breath. Obi-Wan had saved my life, yes, but . . . but, sheesh, did I really have to end up saving his butt too? Especially this way?
Suppressing an instinctive grimace at the invasion of personal space, I tilted his head back and lowered my lips to his. A strange, warm sensation blew through me when our lips touched, and my cheeks heated up immediately.
It was a moment before I remembered why I had done this and blew a gentle breath into his lungs . . .
And jumped back immediately as his eyes snapped open.
He caught sight of me.
"Wet, isn't it?" he said casually, before coughing out a small stream of water.
I stared at him. "You . . . You . . ." I raged, unable to form a complete sentence and shaking with suppressed anger – and, strangely, the strongest desire to start laughing.
"But," he continued, a grin starting to really stretch across his face, "generally you check with the Force as well instead of just for vital signs. Just for future reference, you know."
I punched him, but gently. "You were faking it!"
He grinned. "I do remember you saying I was too stiff for jokes. . . And lo and behold – you just fell for one."
I crossed my arms and sniffed. "Well, it wasn't funny, Kenobi."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his grin falter. "I was just joking," he said uncertainly.
I dipped my hands into the river and washed my face. "Sure," I said sarcastically. "I really believe you."
"Valaina. . ."
"And here's payback!"
I whirled and splashed him full in the face.
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes going wide and his mouth falling open almost comically. Okay, completely comically. Then the grin reappeared and he thrust a hand out. The Force-push was so strong that I tumbled head over heels back into the shallow water.
The desire to laugh bubbled up unexpectedly, and I laughed.
He laughed too, and crouched by the water, extending his hand. "Truce?"
I set my hand in his, hesitantly but with growing confidence. "Truce," I agreed.
That night, after we had squished our way back to his camp and had dried off, he looked at me from where he sat in his sleeping roll and said, "I'm sorry for what I said."
"As I am," I said uneasily.
"Friends?"
I smiled at him for the first time. "Friends."
"Good night, Valaina," he said softly with a smile.
The first kiss was an accident. But perhaps the friendship that sprang from it wasn't.
The second was to save a mission.
It happened when I was in an undercover role to gather information from a rather reluctant contact. The mission had gone on for a month, and I had gotten all the information I needed. It was my first mission in terms of deciding whether I was ready for the Trials, and I felt I had done rather well. The only problem was that I couldn't risk sending the information to the Council without also risking blowing my cover. In other words, I needed another Jedi to help in my extraction.
As I batted my eyelashes at the man, I nearly lost my act as the Force swelled with gentle power and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Another Jedi was here.
"Just let me get you your drink," I said sweetly to the customer I was talking to.
He winked at me. "Be back quick."
I buried my grimace under another false smile. This charade was really getting tiring. I wandered in a seemingly random fashion on the way to the bar, flirting with other men and in general just showing off.
In truth, though, I knew exactly where I was going.
I knew I had been right when a strong hand closed over my arm and nearly yanked me off balance.
"A new human," rasped a drunken voice from the hooded patron. "Perfect."
I pretended to try and get away from him. "There are others here, sir, please let – "
"Don't even try that sweet talk on me," thundered the patron. "Pretty you may be, but that's nothing until the money is worth it. You're coming with me."
"Sir, there are – "
"Shut up and move."
I let him stand and pull me away, careful to resist a bit to make it look right but not enough to make a scene. If he had really been a threat, I could have dropped my cover and fought – but I didn't need to. Not yet. I had to wait.
He yanked me outside and dragged me into a shallow, dark alley. He shoved me against the wall, so that we were both in complete shadow – and then released me.
I rubbed at my arm, looking into his shadowed face. "Quite a performance, Kenobi."
He threw back his hood, shrugging. "I had to make sure it was believable," he said in his normal voice. "Are you all right?" he added, his eyes flitting over me carefully.
I knew he was talking about more than just his dragging me off here. "Yes."
His stance relaxed a tad bit, but he continued with the interrogation. "And the information?"
"I have it."
"Did he suspect anything?"
"Of course not, or else I would have had to make a run for it."
"True," he conceded, stepping back and slipping his hands into the sleeves of his Jedi cloak. He was taller now, towering at least a full head over me, and his shoulders were broader. His Padawan braid was longer, and he held himself a constant and serene air, like a true Jedi. And he was a lot stronger than I remembered; his grip was full evidence of that.
But then again, it had been over six years since we had last met on the training mission. He had changed. We all had.
"Can you leave?"
I shook my head. "Not without – "
"Ah," he said, frowning. "Yes, the Council mentioned that . . . bit of it."
"Just use the Force," I said, blushing fiercely and hoping the light was dim enough that he wouldn't see.
"What happened to your lectures on frivolous use of the Force?"
I blushed even more and looked down. In truth, I had had to use the Force numerous times and mainly to get out of a rather . . . embarrassing situation.
He put his hand on my shoulder, his fingers warm against me bare skin and his expression sympathetic. "You did what you had to do, and without getting caught. You should be proud of that. I know I wouldn't have been able to do this."
"You wouldn't have been able to pose as a female pleasure slave, Kenobi."
He shrugged. "True. I'll probably have to do something else then. Maybe it'll be as embarrassing as this."
"Hopefully not."
He looked at me again, and his eyes were alight with amusement. "What happened to wishing the worst on me?" he teased.
I grimaced. "After this, I'm not wishing the worst on anyone."
His eyes clouded momentarily. "Let's go, shall we?"
I nodded in agreement. He stepped back into the light – and my danger sense surged.
Oh Sithspit. The club had rolling recording devices, and Obi-Wan had just stepped into full view of them. And his Padawan braid was clearly visible!
Thinking fast, I grabbed his neck with one hand and his braid with another, yanking him back towards me. Caught by surprise and off balance, he crashed against me, nearly squishing me against the wall as his full weight slammed into me. His hands sprang to my shoulders, to try and add distance between us, and the Force swelled alarmingly around him.
I was desperate. If he used the Force, both of us would be in a lot of trouble.
So I kissed him.
His whole body stiffened in surprise, his eyes going wide. But at the same time, his hands stopped pushing against me and he actually returned the kiss. The Force drained away slowly, and a pleasurable tingling sensation swept through my body again – the same sensation I had felt the first time we had kissed.
Embarrassed, I pulled away and tugged hard on his braid.
He understood immediately – but I didn't think that his slip up was the real reason behind the dull flush creeping into his face.
I released him, and for a moment we stood there in silence, our eyes locked and our breathing rapid and shallow.
"Valaina," he whispered. "I . . ."
"Don't talk," I cut in harshly. "We need to leave. Now."
For a second, his eyes flashed with something very close to desire or anger – but then it was gone and he was slipping away from me, deeper in the shadows, and raising his hood to shield his face. "Come on. I have a ship waiting."
I knew my tone had been too harsh. But I had been so afraid of what would have happened had I not spoken. Something primal had arisen there, and even though my brain was telling me that it was wrong and against the rules . . . my body was still aching for something I couldn't even begin to express. Something only he could give me.
I pinched myself – hard – and the pain jolted me back to my senses. And then I followed him in silence.
The second was to save a mission. And so it did. But it had also endangered something much larger than the mission – my career as a Jedi.
The third was unexpected.
It happened the night after tumultuous news had swept the Temple – Anakin Skywalker had been appointed to the Jedi High Council, but was not being given the rank of Jedi Master.
Now, that was a rather stinging blow.
Of course, the Council did have their reasons.
As a healer, I spent a great deal of my time on Coruscant, helping the wounded Jedi to heal and then shipping them right back off into war to be battered to pieces again. It irked me greatly, but I had little choice about the matter. So I shut my mouth and put my energy into healing them as best as I could before they came back.
And through being quiet, I heard a lot.
So I knew the Council's reasons. I didn't necessarily agree with all of them – for Force's sake, why would they even think to order Obi-Wan to ask Anakin to choose between him and the Chancellor? – but some of them I just couldn't disagree with. We needed to know what the Chancellor was up to; he seemed to prolong the war more than he did anything else about it and got a lot of emergency powers as a result. And Anakin just wasn't ready to be given the title of Jedi Master, even with all of his deeds as the Hero With No Fear.
Not, of course, that they had bothered to tell the boy that.
But Obi-Wan knew, and when he came storming into my quarters with a murderous expression on his face and the Force buzzing around him like a pack of angry animals, I knew why immediately.
I allowed him to vent and pace for a long time. It wasn't really his fault; the Council and Anakin were putting a great deal of pressure on him and he had nowhere else to turn to. And he had a lot of other things on his mind as well – the war, the Chancellor, General Grievous, the Separatist Council, along with everything else.
After an hour or so, he finally seemed to have gotten the most of it out of his system.
"I am sorry about this," he said tiredly, standing rigidly in front of my bed with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "But I – "
"I know," I interrupted gently. "Relax, Master Kenobi. I know."
He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. "Just because you're not a Master yourself yet doesn't mean you have to call me that," he pointed out.
I shrugged. "It helps. Sometimes."
He sighed and his shoulders relaxed. "Thank you." He stared off into the distance. "I hope Anakin thinks long and hard about this. The Council won't let him make another mistake, and I really don't want to – "
"Hey," I said, reaching out to put a hand on his arm and turning him slightly to face me. "Obi-Wan, you have got to stop blaming yourself."
"I do not."
I snorted.
"Maybe a little," he conceded.
I elbowed him. "Obi-Wan, you take the blame for everything. Even when Dooku injured the both of you, you were still blaming yourself for everything. Anakin disobeyed your order and he got hurt. It was not your fault."
"A Master is supposed to protect their Padawan."
"What were you supposed to do, rush forward and grab him? Or better yet, leap forward and use the Force to trip him and hope that he managed to sweep out Dooku's legs in the process?" I demanded.
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Still – "
"Oh, shut up, Kenobi. I win and you know it."
He smiled reluctantly. "Your way of winning is harsh, Valaina," he remarked with a sigh.
"Yes, well, listening to you beating yourself up all night is a lot worse," I said tartly. "Obi-Wan, even Master Yoda concedes you are one of the best Jedi around. We all know it. The only reason Anakin surpasses you all the time is because of his raw talent. I know it's not nice, but there it is and you need to hear it. So stop saying you're at fault. You're not."
He stared at me for a long time. Then he dropped his arms. "Thanks for that."
"Someone needs to kick your butt once in a while." And why in the name of the Force was I suddenly whispering?
"Valaina. . ." He was whispering too now.
"What?"
He didn't answer; he just continued staring at my eyes. His pupils were dilated, but for some reason the blue-green color seemed as strong as ever despite the faint light. And for some reason, his breathing was accelerated, like he was nervous or something. What in the name of the Force was going on?
"Obi-Wan, what is – "
He suddenly lowered his head and kissed me.
The kiss was gentle, tentative, and passionate. The Force washed over me in a gentle wave, and a strange sensation of warmth spread through my body. The last two times it had, the feeling had faded quickly when we had separated, leaving me yearning for something – something else, something more. This time, however, the feeling seemed to grow unbearably quickly within me, and I tilted my head to kiss him back better.
He shifted closer to me, and I succumbed to the urge to slide my hands around his neck and bury my fingers in his hair.
A muffled groan escaped his lips, and I felt his fingers slide against the skin of my side. I shivered in his embrace, suddenly freezing cold despite the fact that I was fully clothed, and his fingers were like hot brands against me.
I pressed closer against him, sensing the unbearable need of my body that only he could sate rise within me and feeling his own unbearable need as well. . .
I woke the next morning in a warm cocoon of blankets. I stirred, blinking rapidly in the clear sunlight, and spotted Obi-Wan lying next to me, his head supported by his bent elbow and his steady gaze resting on my face.
Heat rose to my cheeks as memories of what had happened last night returned, and I averted my eyes, feeling suddenly vulnerable and embarrassed. As I started to draw the sheets around me, curling into a ball to hide my nakedness, Obi-Wan spoke.
"Do you regret it?"
His tone was perfectly calm and even, and he did not seem at all perturbed, as I was, that he wasn't wearing anything either.
I hesitated. "No."
It was the truth, but . . .
He relaxed slightly, but his eyes remained troubled. "Why do you feel vulnerable, then?"
Blast. He was better at sensing my emotions than I had thought. I flushed even more, curling into a tighter ball. "After last night . . . I . . ." I trailed off into silence.
He reached out to me, his eyes soft. "Valaina . . . I would never hurt you."
"I know. But the Code . . ."
His face tightened and he flopped on to his back, lacing his fingers under his head and staring at the ceiling. "Ah, yes. The Code." His tone was a mixture of reflection and coolness, as if he was examining a report.
I studied him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Obi-Wan – "
He turned his head to face me with a sigh. "Valaina . . . Look. . . The Code forbids this kind of thing."
A sinking feeling entered my stomach, but I forced my expression to remain impassive.
Obi-Wan paused and reached out to toy with a strand of my hair. "It says," he continued, "that this kind of . . . of attachment is . . . well, is bound to lead either you or me or perhaps the both of us to the dark side. It forbids it. It says it's wrong. Even my mind is telling me this is wrong, completely wrong, and very dangerous.
"And yet . . . This can't be wrong. I know it's not. And I won't let you go."
A relieved sigh escaped me. "Don't ever scare me like that again."
He blinked in surprise. "You agree?" he questioned, his tone that of complete surprise – a rare occurrence for Obi-Wan.
"Yes."
A wide smile crossed his face and he relaxed completely. "Valaina," he whispered, "you are beautiful, you know. And . . . Well, it's rather pointless trying to cover yourself up now."
"Oh shut up."
All the same, I allowed him to draw me back into his embrace. He was right, after all – but not that I was about to tell him that. I rested my head on his bare chest, feeling completely relaxed and at peace and warm. He stroked my hair absently, and between that and the solid rhythm of his heartbeat, I found myself falling back asleep again.
After a long moment, I stirred. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving today?" I murmured.
"I was hoping you had forgotten," he said with a groan.
"Very funny."
A low rumble sounded in his throat, and he pushed at me suddenly, rolling on top of me and pinning me down easily. I stared fearlessly into his eyes, waiting for him to make the next move.
But instead, he simply brushed at my hair and sighed. "I wish I didn't have to leave."
"Well, get going," I said gently, pushing at his shoulders. "Don't make the others get suspicious."
His lips twitched. "Why would they?"
"Obi-Wan. . ."
He sighed. "I know, I know." He lowered his head until our foreheads touched, staring at me unblinkingly. "Stay safe, Valaina."
"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" I demanded, touching one of the many scars that ran across his chest. "I swear, every time you come back to the Temple you got yet another scar or injury or . . . or something! It seems I only treat you to send you out to be hurt again!"
He chuckled sadly. "True. But you know you wouldn't change it."
I bit my lip. He had me there.
He laughed gently and leaned down to kiss me, but I put my hand up.
"What is it?"
I stared into his eyes, a strange sense of foreboding filling me. But with the dark side clouding the Force so strongly, it was hard for me to discern what it was. To me, it was just a vague feeling of uneasiness.
"Wait."
"For what?"
I hesitated. "For when you come back."
He drew back, a confused look on his face. "As a promise I'll come back?"
"Yes."
To my surprise, he merely smiled and smoothed my hair back. "I can promise that. I won't be joining the Force anytime soon."
True to his word, he didn't kiss me as he rose from the bed and started dressing; all he did was brush my cheek once with his hand as he tucked the covers around me and used the Force to slip a sleep suggestion into my mind. And by the time I was asleep, he was gone. By the time I woke back up, he was off to fight General Grievous.
The third was unexpected. Completely. With both of us having long passed the Trials, I had thought I was also long past getting into attachments. I was wrong. But, perhaps, maybe that was a good thing.
And the fourth – that was the last kiss.
Moments – or was it hours? – later, the Force surged once and then twice around me and my consciousness rolled tiredly around in my body as someone shook it.
I felt like all the strength had gone out of my muscles. Opening my eyes took more out of me than healing a person one step away from death. And that was really saying something.
Slowly, the world came into focus – and everything suddenly focused on Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He stopped shaking me when he realized my eyes were open. In the background, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Master Yoda, his ears drooping and his eyes carrying an unspeakable, unbearable sadness.
Sound returned abruptly.
" – to me, please!" Obi-Wan was saying, a note of panic in his voice.
"O . . . Obi-Wan," I croaked out. "H . . . How?"
I found myself suddenly crushed against his chest, his arms tight around my shoulders. It was so tight that I could barely breathe, much less move – not that I really cared right at this moment. How had Obi-Wan gotten in here? How had he found me?
"Thank the Force you're alive," he whispered in my ear.
He released me slightly, enough so I could breathe at least, but he did not let me go.
I stared into his blue-green eyes, the eyes that expressed the love he felt for me that he could not say. I saw the horror and the confusion and desperation in them, emotions I had not seen since Master Jinn's death on Naboo so long ago. I saw how everything was just all jumbled together in a breathtakingly indescribable mix in his eyes, eyes that were the only part of his Jedi mask that he allowed to reflect how he truly felt.
And then I knew I was dying.
" – Bail has medical facilities; if we move quickly we can probably save her," Obi-Wan was saying.
I reached up and touched his cheek. He turned his head instantly to me, despair and hope warring frantically in his gaze.
"Obi-Wan," I murmured. "It is . . . no use."
He placed his hand over mine, holding it to his cheek. "I can't let you just die," he said hoarsely.
"I will . . . die . . . anyways."
His grip tightened, and I felt the Force begin pouring into me. "No."
"Obi-Wan," I sighed.
But his eyes reflected the stubbornness he felt. He wasn't going to give up, no matter what. I knew what he was thinking – he had lost his Master; why would he also lose me?
"Obi-Wan . . . Remember what you . . . promised me?"
Bewilderment flashed through his eyes momentarily; then he nodded, a confused look still in his eyes. He knew what I was referring to, but he was wondering why I was bringing it up – especially now, in front of Master Yoda.
But I could care less about that.
"What about it?"
I forced a smile. "Well, you . . . you came back," I said softly. "Alive."
A single tear fell from his eye. "Valaina. . ." His voice broke even as he whispered my name, and in that I could hear his pain.
It hurt a lot more than I thought it ever could have.
"Just do it."
So he did, lowering his lips to mine, and this kiss . . . our last . . . was at once more passionate and more sorrowful than any other. It wasn't by accident; it wasn't to save a mission; it wasn't unexpected. It was quite simply a kiss, but it was so much more than that. It was of overwhelming passion; of heartbreaking sorrow; of dreadful farewell.
In short, it was everything that made up our doomed romance.
Doomed, however, not because of the Jedi Order or the Jedi Code or the Clone Wars; but because of a choice, a betrayal made by one person.
Well, so could I too make a single choice.
I gathered what little strength that remained – it wasn't much – and as I felt myself slipping away into the Force, I pushed everything I had back to life, back into love . . . back into Obi-Wan.
He pulled away from me, startled by my action, and that was the last thing I saw before my world went black forever.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, blue-green eyes awash in tears of sorrow and dashed hope, my name on his lips.
And the fourth – that was the last kiss.
I found myself in some sort of silver plane, one that stretched on and on in every conceivable direction. A glowing light stood not far from me – Master Yoda. And another, streaked with sorrow, right beside me – Obi-Wan.
My love.
I couldn't speak to him; not now. Perhaps, one day, if he learned the way, he could one day speak to me.
Perhaps.
For now, all I could do was wait, and watch, and love.
Obi-Wan raised his head, and his eyes reflected a misery that was beyond any description. His lips moved, but there was no sound: "I didn't get here in time. I'm so sorry, Valaina, I'm sorry."
Without thinking, I reached out to him, even though I knew I couldn't touch him.
Gently, I spoke too, even though there was no sound: "Love means never having to say you are sorry, my love."
The Force surged as I spoke, and Obi-Wan's head snapped up, his eyes casting about in all directions. For a second, he stared straight at me – and I willed him to see, to realize, to understand.
For a second, I almost thought he did.
Then he lowered his head over my cold, still, lifeless body again.
With a sigh buried in the soft wind, I kissed him one last time on the cheek before I stood and drifted away, into the netherworld of the Force. One day, he would understand. One day, he would join me there. One day, we would be reunited.
Four kisses. One by accident; one for a mission; one unexpected. And the last – a kiss of farewell, of sorrow, of death.
But perhaps it wasn't a farewell.
Perhaps, it was merely another promise.
Because Obi-Wan Kenobi and I, Valaina Ilori, did love each other. That promise, we would keep. That promise, we would never be broken. And one day, we would be reunited – never to be parted again.
Funny how our entire relationship could be defined by four kisses.
The End
All right; the reason the line is there between the end of the fourth kiss and the beginning of Valaina joining the Force is because my friend harassed me over it so much that I got annoyed and went back to complete this story. (She hates unhappy endings.) So – I wrote an alternate ending, for anyone who wants to read it. If you don't, then don't.
