~Garen~
"Aaarrrggghhh!" There is something stroking my arm. Something rather odd. Something is rather odd about this situation, really. My senses are fuzzy. Usually I can sense everything the second I wake up, but not this time.
Did someone mind trick me or something? I dimly remember thinking so last night. Hmmm…Interesting. Anyway, the thing stroking my arm does not feel like my master, usually he wakes me up in the time-honored style of either jumping into my bed to wrestle me awake forcibly or to use the force to push me out of bed.
I'm used to this, I take it as routine.
The fact that this is not the case this time means that my master is not the one waking me. So who is? My eyelids flutter, and I see a giant brown mass in front of my blurry vision.
Interesting. Err, now it is tickling me. It is running something that feels like a curtailed claw up and down my arm in a tantalizingly slow rhythm, added with the small bristle of soft, downy fur.
I shiver and swat at the interference. Would you knock it off, Quin-lan? I'm too comfortable to wake up right now. Go wake the others first, I'll catch up later.
Force, whatever blanket I grabbed last night is the b est; it's so soft, warm, and heavy, like a quilt. I can almost feel it responding to my breathing, matching the rhythm. Is it heat stimulated? I love those kinds. Wait…I didn't grab a blanket last night.
My eyes snap open again, all the way this time, and I let out a small gasp. The Princess flashes an impish smile, and I get a close up of her fangs. Why…? Sheesh, it was not a blanket I was feeling, but her! She is on top of me! A dim sense of panic shoots through me, because she is still stroking my arm and…Damn it, why the kriff am I shirtless?! I don't remember that!
"Aaarrrggghhh," she mumbles, pressing her humungous face into my neck. I grit my teeth and clench my fists to keep from letting out a squeal and wriggling. Force, that tickles! "Quin!" I squeak out desperately, hands pinned to my sides by her weight.
She is not completely on top of me, only half way, but her legs are intertwined with mine. Are my pants still…? Yes, oh, force thank you. I'm still trapped though, so Quin-lan get your lazy barve-ness up!
"Your Highness," I gasp, struggling to wiggle from under her. It does no good; she only takes my writhing for permission and begins slowly trailing a furred finger down my abdomen. A shiver runs up my spine.
I am officially panicking right now. I can't throw her off with the force like my instincts are telling me to do. I do not want to hurt her, but I can't let her do whatever it is she is trying to do because human and Wookie anatomy is not the same, I can assure you.
"Your Highness, please! Release me," I try to say with some minuscule amount of sternness. It turns into a yelp. I have never had this happen before, alright? Don't laugh at me. There is no manual in the Jedi archives for this sort of situation! I kick out into air with my free foot, desperate to reach Quin.
My entire frontal vision is taken up by The Princess and…Ugh, she's fingering the hem of my pants. I'm extremely alarmed here, what am I supposed to do? I'm freaking out!
Alarm jets through me. My heart is pounding as if I am personally fighting five bounty hunters with toxic darts at once. To tell you the truth, I'd prefer that predicament to this. I have been trained and prepared for that. Where is Quin-lan when I need him? Or Obi-wan? Siri, Bant, anybody!
"Arrrggghhh?" The Princes asks, breathlessly. "No!" I hiss though I have absolutely no clue what she said. "I want you to get off me, not take certain useful garments off! Please, Your Highness, we can't do this! Quin-lan!" I wail. My senses are starting to come back. Okay, stay calm, stay centered, stay….She is rubbing my hip bone! Time to panic. I'm done with serenity. I'm gonna die.
"Huh? Garen?" I hear a bleary voice say. I've never been so glad to hear his stupid voice in my entire life. About time he woke up, lazy chosski. "Quin-lan!" I croak.
I kick wildly, and after a moment my foot strikes something. "Yow! Hey! What was that for, Muln?" I hear Quin-lan demand irately. Something near my foot shifts, and then a muffled curse.
"Garen?" Quin-lan gasps, sounding as flabbergasted as I felt when I woke up. Damn Obi-wan for mind tricking me! I could have sensed her intentions before this even happened if he hadn't! I'm going to skin him! "Quin-a little help here? Please?" Okay, I may be begging, but she just licked my neck. "Force, Garen," Quin-lan chuckles softly.
"When I brought up the prospect of marriage last night I didn't think you'd get ideas from it," at the word marriage The Princess perks up. "No, I'm not getting married!" I tell her resolutely.
Her expression sinks, but she shrugs and lays her head on my collarbone again. Her head is thoroughly too big for this. It's crushing my collarbone, soon it'll crack. I don't think she cares.
"Quin-lan!" I implore again. "Your Highness!" I hear another voice gasp, scandalized. It's Bant. Oh, thank the force its Bant. The Princess looks up, and upon seeing her little friend gives a friendly wave and signals for Bant to wait a minute, she's busy.
"Bant!" I holler, since Quin-lan has been such a great help. Bant appears over the Princess's shoulder, hands on her hips. "Your Highness!" she scolds sharply. "You mustn't tease the boys! They're sensitive, you know?" Sensitive? I'm hyperventilating here, not sensitive.
"Yeah, Garen there is still a virgin. He's not experienced, poor boy has been sheltered all his life," another voice interrupts. My face flushes bright red. You don't have to go that far, Tachi. Hey, it seems to do the trick, because the Princess's face contorts into thoughtfulness. She looks up and narrows her eyes at me appraisingly.
"See there? He looks like a panicked puppy. You've scared him," Siri snickers. I glare at her, projecting every bit of indignant detestation I can through the force, this is not funny. The Princess grunts in affirmation and pats my head in a sisterly sort of way before she stands.
The weight on my chest lifts. I sit up, gasping for breath. "Come on, girls. Let's go check up on our precious leader," Siri calls as Quin-lan chucks my shirt back at me. I scramble to grab it, my heart thudding in my chest.
"Well, Garen," Quin-lan says with a smirk as I hurriedly put it back on. Bant and The Princess trot after Siri with a morning cheerfulness I find unwarranted for all the grief I just suffered. "Looks like you're the new ladies man of the group. How do you feel?" Ha, ha. I'm laughing on the inside, you barve.
"Why didn't you help me?" I demand, as I pull my shirt back on, covered in clay and blood and dirt and all kinds of other unsavory things. Force, I can't wait for a bath. I wonder if Dray has a fresher in here. "I was having too much fun," Quin-lan replies with a smirk.
His eyes are twinkling with mischief. I glare and place a hand on my saber. You know, we don't really need Quin-lan to finish the mission….But no. Murder is not the Jedi Way, no matter how better a place the universe would be without some well-placed people. "Anyway," continues my new most hated person of all time.
"Do you remember falling asleep?" he asks. I shake my head, and think back to the night before. "No. A mind trick implant. Obi, our precious leader as Siri deigned him, must have mind tricked the girls and then when they came in here it spread to us. I was so tired it probably did not take much of an effort," except that Obi-wan is tired, and wounded and he was across the hall.
How did he even manage it? How does he ever manage this stuff? And since he's so dang manageable, why can't he be the one the ladies all flock too and grant their unwanted attentions, huh?
"That haughty ass. I'm going to kill him. It'll take us twice as long to fix this piece of hog-wash now," Quin-lan nudges the long-range transmitter with his toe. I nod. "Sure is, but I have to admit I'm grateful. I needed some rest," I admit begrudgingly.
Quin-lan does not answer, or rather; he does not have time too, because at that moment the force trembles with a flash of alarm from the girls. "Garen, Quin-lan, get in here now!" Siri barks; and her voice is tense and serious. Joking aside, Quin-lan and I dash to the other room, sabers in hand.
Inside, Bant is kneeling next to Master Qui-gon. Miraculously, he looks a little bit better. The Princess is standing to the side, hands clasped close to her heart. Her eyes are filled with concern. The force is rigid with it. Siri stands above a spot where a bit of blood stains the floor.
The Force is wrong here, it is taut with unsaid things and waylaid emotions. This isn't good. My saber burns hot in my hand, responding to my surge of battle readiness. "We have a problem. Where's Dray?" Siri announces unnecessarily, her eyes are hard with solemnity.
Bant looks up with tears of fury in her eyes. One of her webbed hands is clenched, and I have never seen the fire in her pupils that I see now. She's ready to stab somebody, and so is Siri.
"I don't know. Why?" Quin-lan answers. He is partly crouched, ready for action. "Because he did it!" Bant explodes, surging to her feet. We all turn to her, aghast at the fierceness in her voice. "He took Obi-wan!"