Maridian looked as terrified as Obi-Wan felt. He was pretty sure his gut had hit the floor and had settled at his feet at the sudden turn of events – he wasn't exactly sure how it had escalated to this, and he replayed the situation in his mind over again as Barholomew Hail had set clearing the table. He hoped the sudden surprise was not so evident on his face, so he steeled himself just to be sure.

He supposed it was for the best, but as Maridian turned away to begin working in the kitchen again, he suspected a mixture of emotion of radiate from her. The stiffness in her shoulders as she worked spoke volumes to him of her uneasiness, but he felt an odd, comforting warmth in the force about her. Unmistakable was the waves of attraction flowing out of her now. He had to divert his eyes so they wash over her body again.

The two other girls, Henna and Remy, looked as pleased as peaches. Remy had a girlish, goofy smile plastered on her face, and Obi-Wan reasoned that he could get lost in the youthful pools of her eyes as he recalled the years before when he himself had looked into those doe eyes of his padawan – and many younglings of the Jedi Code in his time as a Master.

"Girls," Bartholomew called to them, "come and finish these dishes." They said nothing, the littlest girl slipping out of her chair smoothly and moving into the kitchen. Henna didn't take her eyes off of him until Maridian grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the sink, leaning to whisper in her ear. He had to suppress a lopsided smile. He felt a blush pool in his stomach.

Bartholomew moved out of the dining area and towards a desk in the corner of the house, and he paused, turning his chair. He waved Obi-Wan over, "Come, son. Let me show you the place I mentioned." Obi-Wan nodded, gave one glance into the kitchen and watched Maridian reach high to replace a dish before slipping out of the chair.

As he approached, the man dug from one of the desk drawers a holomap; an older, pre-Clone Age device. He activated it and set it on the desk, and Obi-Wan found it to a detailed map and log of the Talba regions. He had clearly marked Tusken activity, and his fingers moved along the map before it jabbed into the holo and circled. "Right here, the old hobby farm. It's a bit closer to Mos Eisley than we are which isn't bad. Good water there." He nodded and stroked his chin, "A decent place." Obi-Wan calculated it was about twenty klicks from the Hail's property, another 10 from the Larses. Out in the middle of the Dune Sea, far from eyes and business.

He liked it almost immediately, and nodded his approval, reaching up to stroke his beard. "Fantastic," he agreed, "perhaps I will go into Mos Eisley and inquire of the land myself." The man's eyes sparkled and he beamed at Obi-Wan, "It would be nice to be alone." He was more hinting at the idea of not living in the back room of someone's store, but Bartholomew had other ideas.

Bartholomew winked, "But not too alone, eh? Bad for any man," he jabbed his elbow into Obi-Wan's side, "there's something about having a woman in the house that settles a man down and calms his soul," Obi-Wan resisted every urge within him not to look into the kitchen, but Bartholomew's eyes led him to, "being in exile isn't the way to live, especially out here." He slapped the desk and turned down the holodevice.

Obi-Wan, slightly uncomfortable by the undertone in the man's platitude, crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight on his feet, "Where I come from, solicitude is a precious amenity." The man waved off the idea almost instantly.

"Perhaps for a monk or a Jedi," he shook his head, "but for a man like yourself, Ben – solitude isn't good for you. I can see it." He gestured up and down Obi-Wan's body with a hand, "I have a sense about people, you know."

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding and quirked a brow. The man moved back towards the kitchen, guiding the chair along. Obi-Wan followed behind slowly. Maridian was drying her hand on a towel and turned to face her father, "I'll be going outside to see to the barn for the night, Papa," her eyes moved over to Obi-Wan and scanned him carefully, "before I see to Ben's sleeping arrangements."

Her father nodded, "Very well. I will have your sisters help me to bed then." He turned his chair slightly and glanced at Obi-Wan, "Why don't you take Ben with you, Maridian? Give him an idea of the livestock," he smiled at them, and Obi-Wan's stomach hitched, "I won't be persuaded to sell livestock to a man who has no idea how to care for them out here."

She said nothing, only nodded and tossed the towel onto the now empty table. Remy moved to intercept it, Maridian walking towards the door to grab her cloak, as well as Obi-Wan's. He moved towards the door and she handed it to him, "For the chill," was her simple statement. He nodded and slipped into it, and she was already situating her hood over her head and moving to intercept the door panel's controls.

Obi-Wan followed her out, and they stepped into the wind of the night, which tossed bits of sand across the desert floor. They crossed the yard quickly to the barn, and she opened the doors and stepped through swiftly, expertly. Obi-Wan followed as she moved to the back wall and began pulling down blankets from a shelf. She turned and headed back towards him.

Her eyes met his briefly as she handed him a stack of blankets, "For the thinner animals," she gestured to the stalls, "eopie's and the younglings." He nodded and she led him towards the stall, opening one of the doors where he noticed the animal she had ridden into town. "I'm sorry about tonight."

Her statement surprised him. He noted she seemed calmer, as if in her element. Perhaps even a bit brusque. "Why would you be?" He questioned, her intercepting a blanket from him. She unfolded it and draped it across the animal's back, pulling it into place.

"My father can be very…outgoing," she smiled softly, then rolled her eyes, "and my sisters are a different story altogether. I can't even begin to describe their behavior other than it is...horrible." She stooped to fluff the fresh bed of straw, then stood and brushed her cloak off with a quick hand, "They're all very forward."

She struck him as forward too, but also tactful. It didn't shock him. She had a strong spirit and her head was screwed on straight - at least it appeared to be."There is no need to apologize. Your family is most hospitable." As she left the stall, he reached a hand to guide the door back into place, seeing that it locked. He hadn't noticed how he'd towered above her until she plucked another blanket from his arm, "I would not have expected less, having met you."

Maridian gave him a wry smile, and he briefly considered that he'd taken a liberty, "I can be forward," she sighed, opening another stall. "And brash. Even a little standoffish," he gave her a half smile and she shook her head, "which I have been." She shot him a look, "I hope you don't think I'm rude or something." She busied her hands and stooped to stroke the nose of the youngling in a tender gesture.

He shook his head, "On the contrary, I think you're rather noble in light of everything that has happened."

She smiled at him, this time her eyes sparkling. He noticed immediately and looked down to his boots, which were now caked with sand and bits of straw. The conversation dropped from there, and she instructed him on the doings of preparing the barn for the night. After they'd blanketed the animals, they refilled grain and water. She showed him how much grain went to specific animals and how to check to see if they were responding well to the diet, and so forth.

By the time they had finished, two hours had gone by; Obi-Wan not missing a one of them. By this time Maridian had entirely opened up to him, and he finally met her personality unabashed and in full. He noticed she talked with her hands and was a good teacher. By now she had entirely released, and no longer was the force in question about her. He reasoned she had dismissed the episode the night before, guessing he hadn't seen. He made sure to remain indifferent about it, and didn't press the force. In her openness, he found he rather liked her company.

"And that's that," she concluded, extinguishing the lights and opening the heavy panel door. They stepped through and she saw it closed. Turning to him, she brushed aside a stray curl within the hood of her cloak, pulling it closed at the nape of her neck.

He nodded and extended a hand to her elbow as if to guide her back to the house, "It doesn't seem too difficult," he replied.

Maridian shook her head, "It's not. A matter of understanding animals," she looked up at him, "which you seem to have a handle of. It won't take long before you have a good understanding. Working for Talor will help you."

They came to the house and stepped down into it, finding Henna and Remy had already changed into nightclothes. Henna had been curled onto the couch with an older-model datapad, and Remy was at the table, a leather pouch of drawing utensils sprawled before her; a piece of parchment paper under her careful study. Obi-Wan hung his cloak beside Maridian's, who moved to her father's desk to write something down.

Obi-Wan approached Remy, finding her busily drawing with stained hands. He peered over her shoulder, examining the work, her not even noticing. Or maybe she had noticed but didn't seem to mind. He crossed his arms over his chest, "You have a magnificent eye." He stated simply, impressed. Life on Coruscant had made him well aware of the arts, that much was certain. There had been an abundance of it there, and he found a pang of sadness hit him at the thought.

She didn't flinch from her work, "Thank you," she said simply. Obi-Wan noticed she had the end of her tongue sticking out between her lips in concentration. "I want to be an artist someday."

He nodded, "A most noble profession."

She shrugged and changed utensils, "It beats life in the desert." Came the simple reply. He could not argue with that – a young lady with an endless pool of possibilities perhaps would want to be away from desert life. Anyone with aspirations would. Anyone who wasn't running away from something, anyway.

"Is Papa in bed?" Maridian intercepted their conversation as she moved into the living area. Obi-Wan watched as she swatted Henna's feet off the couch, his eyes unable to stop following her movements. She crossed her arms and cocked a hip, expectantly.

"Yes," Henna replied without looking up, and pointed to the chair in the corner of the room, "comforter's right there for Ben." She broke concentration with the datapad and smiled at him. He looked away and Maridian moved to intercept the blanket.

She began unfolding it and moved to the center of the living room, which he noticed was sparsely decorated, but nicely kept. She knelt and began situating the blanket on the floor, turning to look at Henna on the couch, "get yourselves in bed. Morning comes early tomorrow, since I have to take Ben back." Neither girl responded at first, "And that means I won't be dragging your sorry bones out of bed for the morning chores."

"Who said you had to?" Henna replied, eyes falling back to the datapad.

Maridian paused her work, hands on the comforter. Obi-Wan watched her hair fall over her shoulder, "When don't I?" She stood, and moved towards the couch, pulling from it a hand-knitted throw pillow. She fluffed it and set it back, then swatted Henna's shoulders. "Go fetch a pillow from my bed, and a blanket." She looked up at Ben as Henna sprang into action, taking the datapad with her. Her eyes dropped immediately, and he looked away. The blush was evident on her nose.

Remy began to put away her things, and grabbed her piece of paper. She pressed it to her chest as if to hide the artwork, which was nothing more than an outline at this point. She nodded to him and walked past, as if his presence was the most casual thing ever. It wasn't - he noticed the tension begin to rise in the atmosphere. "Good night, Ben." She chirped. She didn't seem to have a problem with him.

He nodded and bowed politely to her, "Good night."

She shrugged and moved into the corridor, and vanished inside one of the doors. It closed with a light bang, and soon Henna came bounding into the living area, stepping down into the sunken in room. She handed the pillow and folded blanket to Maridian. "I didn't have an extra blanket, so I pulled this one from yours." Maridian nodded and stooped again to finish the bed. Henna moved toward Obi-Wan from across the room and smiled softly at him. He noticed her beauty almost instantly – she was trying very hard to impress him. "Good night, Ben. Sleep well."

He nodded, "And to you."

She smiled again and turned, moving back towards the corridor. "'Night, Maridian," was all she said, and waved at them before moving to the first door on the right of the corridor. She vanished down into it, and Obi-Wan stepped down into the sunken in area, pausing at the foot of the make-shift bed. He stared down at Maridian and she glanced up at him. He noticed she had a slight tremble to her hands. A pang of guilt hit him expectantly, and he kept his distance.

They both became suddenly uncomfortable. The atmosphere tightened. Obi-Wan didn't remember the last time he'd been alone with a woman in such a situation involving a bed – none came to mind. It was a painfully obvious observation, the undertones of the situation. He briefly remembered he had never been alone with a woman in a situation involving a bed. His Jedi vows came rushing back to mind, as did his blood to his ears. Calm yourself, Obi-Wan. She's only a girl.

He stopped mid-thought, and watched as she moved past him, mumbling a quick, "I'll leave a light on in the kitchen, should you need to get up." He didn't turn and stifled a yawn, stretching his neck to relieve some of the tension. She came back, but didn't step down into the area. He turned and looked up at her, slightly. "The refresher room is down the hall, last door on the left." She crossed her arms in front of him, then gestured to the bed. "I'm sorry it's not more. The couch isn't big enough."

He shook his head, staring bluntly at her. "This is fine. Thank you."

She nodded and looked away, fiddling with a curl by her cheek. He'd noticed she'd done that when she was nervous, "Alright. Good night, then."She began to move towards the corridor. He could sense her apprehension.

Without thinking, he replied, "Good night, Maridian." He stopped quickly. He'd never spoken her name before, had he? Obi-Wan suddenly couldn't remember if he had or not, oddly confused by the way it rolled off his tongue. He liked the way it sounded. He had noticed her pause at the corridor and put a hand on the entryway.

She glanced over her shoulder, "Good night, Ben." He felt something punch his gut lightly, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but like the way his name sounded coming from her. He shook the thoughts from his mind and she vanished into the corridor, extinguishing the lights as she went.

Obi-Wan situated himself on the floor and slipped his boots off carefully, sitting them up against the couch. The satchel he didn't remove from his side, instead btought an arm up to drape up over his head, the other resting on his chest. He closed his eyes and released an exaggerated breath, his hair falling into his eyes. He jerked it aside and took in a deep, relaxing breath. Instantly, he was hit with the smell of roses. His stomach rolled in a somewhat terrifyingly delightful way. She's only a girl, Obi-Wan. Only a girl…

But, as he took another smell of the pillow from her bed, he was fearfully struck with the idea that she was a lot more than that.


Maridian did not sleep. She laid in bed, her hands interlaced on her torso, watching the ceiling. Her body was keenly aware of the man sleeping on the living area floor, using her pillow and blanket. Her throat had clamped shut when he'd said her name and bid her goodnight – she couldn't recall if he'd used her name or not. Really, she could never really clearly recall anything around Ben Kenobi, except her wild attraction to him. It was beginning to irritate her.

She wondered why she didn't have these feelings around Talor – she found him attractive and charming, or at least she thought she had. Her dinner with him and Ben had made her overly aware of the differences between the two men. Talor had seemed to be a ruffian in light of Ben's sophistication. She rolled onto her side, facing the wall, and brought an arm up under her pillow and supported her head. It didn't matter what she thought of either of them. She needed to marry Talor and look out for her family.

The thought dropped a depression inside of her that she hadn't realized before. The feeling returned, this time as a gentle roll in her chest, flowing down her arms and into her fingers. She laid quietly and focused her attention on sleep, but her mind drifted back to Ben. This feeling had never been so alive without him around – he seemed to ignite it inside of her. She wasn't sure why. He hadn't mentioned last night and the episode, so she felt relatively certain he had seen nothing and had dismissed her concerns almost immediately. Her mind began to drift to their time in the barn and his curious eyes.

She did not realize she was smiling when she fell asleep.


Talor leaned back in the chair of the cantina, the night life rumbling and roaring around him in a clamor of clientele activity. Scantily clad waitresses worked the floor and drew his attention almost every time they passed by, but he had to pull them away when he remembered Maridian back in Talba. His eyes were reserved for her.

The man sitting across from him took another drink, his red skin painted with a mixture of scars and tattoos that Talor was sure were efforts of intimidation. He was a built man, not quite as big as Talor, but his credentials brought a keen awareness of his obvious power over the situation – over Talor. The Twi'lek man made him squirm, but he was ever in mind to keep it from showing.

"Jabba's not a patient man, Mr. Jukkuun. Not patient at all." He had a devilish flash to his eye that only briefly concerned Talor as he lifted a glass to his lips.

He paused only briefly before throwing back a drink, "So I've heard."

"You would be wise to remember," the man continued, leaning forward and pointing a slightly crooked finger at him, "that you owe Lord Jabba a fine amount of money that he hasn't lost track of." The finger leveled at his chest, "and he is not gracious."

Talor nodded and clapped his glass on the table. "As I've also heard." He stared at the man levelly, "I have plans set in motion to pay back Jabba all that I owe him. Once I inherit the estate if the girl I am promised to, he will have his money. And with interest."

The man looked only slightly surprised, briefly. "A girl?"

Talor nodded firmly, once. "A girl. I am marrying her and inheriting her land. Her father is ill and will not be able to care for it in her absence." He shrugged a shoulder and cocked a brow, "A handsome sum of land, untapped wealth. Don't worry."

The man nodded, a smile ringing his lips slyly. "Well then. Your three month extension still stands, Jukkuun. Not one day later. The thirty-two thousand accumulates interest quickly, depending on Lord Jabba's mood. As I said –"

"- he's not gracious, I know," Talor waved him off, "and do you have to call him that even away from the foot of the throne?" his tone was that of disgust, "cause you don't have to play me up that you're loyal to him, if that's what you think." The music pounded into his head, and a waitress offered them each another drink. Talor stopped when he considered the man watching him. His hand dropped away from the tray, and she left suddenly.

The man frowned at him, "It's in the interest of the business." He stood and dropped some money on the table for his drinks. He scanned Talor over again and pointed a finger at him, "Three months, Talor. Three. Lord Jabba's counting."

Talor glared at the man, "Yes, Atonas. I understand."

"I'm glad." He said bluntly, then left the bar. Talor only leaned forward and put his head in his hands once he was sure Jabba's lackey was gone. A hole had formed in the pit of his stomach even before he'd sat down to give an update on his loan. He closed his eyes and his thoughts drifted to Maridian – he hated that he had to do this to her. He liked her. He would hurt her once he took the land from her, he knew. It sent a spike of pain into his chest.

But, he had himself to look after. And his best interest was what mattered.


Soft sunlight poured over the sheets of his bed, mixed with the warmth of her body already resting there, clad only in a light gown of white satin. Her ringlet curls fell down her shoulder and her chest, and she twirled one around her finger, bringing a leg up under the sheet of the bed. Her blue eyes watched him softly, a lost and dream-like look on her face.

He did not hesitate to climb into bed beside her, and slipped under the sheets smoothly, keenly aware of her body so close to his. He propped himself up beside her with an arm, letting his other slide along the sheets until they found her waist. He traced the back of his hand against the satin gown, a contented sigh escaping her lips. He gazed upon her for a moment, before leaning across the expanse between them and hovering his lips over hers. He was overcome by the smell of roses and honey, and she sank lower beneath him, under his stare. He moved his hand lightly to her torso, and gently traced his fingertips up the satin, until they were mere inches from her breasts, which filled the gown out perfectly.

He considered her a moment, finding her striking eyes had leveled him frozen where he rested. His throat clamped shut, and he felt his blood begin to rush south as she moved her hands to his chest, letting her fingers run against his skin. He felt his muscles tense, and tried to steady the tremble in his arms. One of her hands snaked up his neck and found his hair, the other running down his torso to the waist of his breeches, and dipped beneath them tenderly. He tried not to focus on the fact the neck of her gown was so low cut.

He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her deeper than he had ever imagined possible, losing himself in her taste. He stopped only when a chuckle erupted in a bubble from her throat. He smiled against her lips and she sighed again, him falling back into her kiss with a moan.. He lowered his head to her neck and took a hand, reaching for her own, and interlaced their fingers. His other found her hair and dipped in her curls, her bringing a leg to wrap around his waist; foot tracing his leg tantalizingly. He felt the chilled circle of steel around her finger, but ignored it. He didn't notice that the chilled loop reminded him of the one wrapped around his own finger, which was buried in her hair now.

Her breath cascaded down his neck as she moaned into his ear, "Master Kenobi…" the name brought a groan out of him as she looped her arm around his neck, her head falling back against the pillow as he supported himself over her, almost tasting the rosy smell of her skin. "Obi-Wan…"


Obi-Wan awakened with a jolt, his eyes almost immediately adjusting the darkness. He had to remember he was still at Maridian's house, on the floor. He ran his hands through his hair and down to his face, pulling himself awake – it had been so vivid. So…rea. Overcome again with the smell of roses from her pillow, he noticed his clothes were sticking to him like they were his own skin – drenched with a covering of sweat. He had to make sure he was alone; because he was sure her voice had been right beside him. It had been only a dream, he realized; though he was forced to reconsider the clarity of it, because all his blood had rushed south as if she had been right there.

Obi-Wan considered this. He noticed he was trembling, and raised his hand slightly to focus on the slight shake of his hand. Her voice kept trolling through his mind like a broken recording: she had called him Master Kenobi. Obi-Wan. His real name. He had known him. It banged like a cymbal in his ears and pumped blood into his heart quickly – this was not good. He was dreaming about her now, and he never dreamed. He hadn't ever dreamed about a woman before, in such a manner as to make his manhood come so alive.

The Jedi in him briefly considered the repercussions – what did it matter now? The Jedi were gone, the Order extinguished under the Empire's reign. Obi-Wan had to consider the idea of this dream becoming a reality – could it? Could he allow it? He wasn't sure if this was something he wanted to reason with, and it rivaled within him. He closed his eyes, but had to snap them open again when the vision of her in that satin gown floated back into his mind like a breeze brought wind to the desert.

He moaned, covered his face with his hands, and rolled onto his side. What worried him more than the potential for the dream's happening was the odd sensation in his gut, the warmth he felt spread over his skin when the vision of her returned again. He wasn't sure who he was anymore, and he wasn't sure what this woman was doing to him. Perhaps it was loneliness. Desperation. He considered Bartholomew's statement: A man like you wasn't mean to be alone, Ben. Exile is never good for a man.

But, exile was necessary. Obi-Wan just wasn't sure to what extent of exile he could stand.