Chapter Four
Going to bed without Obi-Wan was becoming a frequent habit that Padmé did not like. Not to mention the fact that she was in a strange bed. She wasn't uncomfortable being in the lake retreat, but it wasn't home, and she had awakened, reaching out, hoping that Obi-Wan was there, but he wasn't.
They had taken Master Jinn's advice and left Coruscant, arriving in the Lake Country two days ago, under the cover of darkness, discrete and unattended. The droids would take care of their daily needs such as meals and cleaning, but at least with Dormé present, she would have someone to talk to.
Obi-Wan had been so quiet. Withdrawn and distracted. True, Padmé realized that when he was like this, he was reading what he had described to her as the changes in the Force. Sensing if there was any disturbances. In other words, any danger approaching.
She had never questioned him before, but she couldn't help but feel that this was different.
Perhaps it had been the meeting with Qui-Gon. Perhaps it was the fact that he wasn't out there with his former Master tracking down criminals across the galaxy. Maybe he felt useless here. She could understand why. She felt the same. There were important things going on in the Senate, and here she was hiding out in the backwaters of Naboo.
It had to be worse for Obi-Wan. Before they met, he had been used to such an active lifestyle, she imagined, although she had never asked him. They didn't talk about his past, his life of being trained as a Sith or his years as a slave.
Especially, his years in the Jedi Temple.
It was never discussed. She had tried. Once. However, much like the last few days, Obi-Wan had become sullen and withdrawn, barely speaking to her. Him being in such a mood was something Padmé could handle when she was in Galactic City, or even Theed Palace, but here, where there was nothing to talk to except the house droid, it was maddening.
Unable to force herself back to sleep, the young woman rose from bed, slipped on the sheer robe over her matching white nightgown and made her way to the kitchen. After preparing a cup of chav, she strolled through the darkened dining room and paused at the arched windows overlooking the balcony outside. There, she could see Obi-Wan, as she had expected, leaning against the railing, peering out onto the waters which glittered in its reflection of the moon.
He may not be in the mood to talk, but he had never shunned her presence.
Decidedly, Padmé set her half empty mug down on the table and left the house, coming to stand next to the young man, who obviously noticed her presence, but oddly didn't turn to greet her.
Padmé stood quietly by his side glancing out onto the shadowy waters, occasionally rippled by a surfacing fish searching for a meal. Moments passed by and she wished he would speak, touch her, hold her, something. But she would wait. As long as it would take. Thankfully, it wasn't that long.
"It's quiet here."
A frown creased the young woman's brow. One of concern that she had been right. He was unhappy, needing to do more with his time than stand around waiting for something to happen.
"Yes, it is." She agreed softly.
"I know you'd rather be on Coruscant," he explained, turning his head to gaze at her, "at the Senate, but your safety is important. I'm sure Qui-Gon will find the bounty hunter soon and you can get back to work."
"I'm sure he will." Padmé answered, confusion now knitting her brows instead of concern. He was merely worried about her own discomfort?
"I find this place rather relaxing." He noted, looking back out at the lake just in time to see a winged creature taking flight from off the surface. "I know you would rather be elsewhere."
"I would rather be with you."
In the moonlight, Padmé could detect the slightest smile on his face as Obi-Wan reached over and grasped her hand. Her chest filled with a sigh just at the comfort of that simple touch, but then his features became sullen once more and Padmé began to worry.
"Obi-Wan, what's wrong?"
The question prompted a caress of the back of her hand while she waited on a reply.
"I don't know."
It wasn't the answer she had hoped for, but it was spoken in honesty. Padmé stepped closer, stealing an arm about Obi-Wan's waist and feeling the familiar tenderness of his lips against her temple.
"Maybe I'm just being melancholy. I've almost lost you. Twice."
"You're not going to lose me." She reassured him with a tight squeeze.
"I hope not, Padmé. I don't know what I would do…"
"Sh." Her hand placed upon his mouth was meant to dispel his concerns, but surprisingly, it turned into an erotic gesture as Padmé felt the warm, velvety caress of his tongue easing across the digits, and her breath hitched in her throat.
The laving of his tongue turned to tiny nibbles which proceeded down her arm, up onto her shoulder, across the flimsy strap of silk that lay there and onto her neck.
This was what she needed. Him in her arms, like this. Everything else now seemed strangely unimportant.
Obi-Wan's lovemaking was usually slow and tender, as if Padmé was made of the finest Aldaarian crystal, but deep within him, she could sense a driving need, an affirmation that she was safe, their love was real, and she was not going away.
She would give it to him gladly.
"Take me." She offered herself, with Obi-Wan's response being a deep kiss, his desire not only evident in the aggressive thrusts of his tongue into her mouth, but in the hardness that was pressed against her stomach.
Hands were on her waist. Her feet left the stoned porch, and she found herself being deposited on the balustrade, the long skirts of her nightgown shoved upward.
Bites upon her thighs were almost painful but soothed over with kisses, her answering grip in his hair just as intense as Obi-Wan's mouth moved over her, bringing Padmé to teeter on the edge of not only the balcony railing, but of completion.
He fumbled for a moment as his kisses moved back up along her torso, mouthing over a peaked nipple that strained against the fabric of her gown, and finally freed his erection, guiding himself into her fully in one stroke.
Padmé gasped with pleasure and wrapped her legs around him tightly. His movements were powerful, but he held onto her so that she would not fall. However, when the angles of their movements were not to his satisfaction, Obi-Wan lifted her up off the railing, still connected deeply within and carried her inside, falling upon the bed to resume his frantic thrusts.
It was over quickly as passion of such intensity cannot last long.
Hours later, he slept with his head lying upon her belly and Padmé's fingers carding through his hair.
Making love with Obi-Wan was fulfilling no matter how they did it, and no matter what mood he was in, but something resonated in tonight's coupling. Something that Padmé had not felt coming from Obi-Wan before.
A hunger that could not be sated by her love.
Although he wouldn't speak of it, Padmé knew there were questions that Obi-Wan held that she had no answers to, and sooner rather than later, she hoped he would find the strength to ask the one person who possessed them.
