AN: The poem included in this chapter is a translation of Du Bist Die Ruh, by Friedrich Rückert. It was written in 1822, and is now in Public Domain. The translation from German to English is my own.

Thank you to Syrena for pointing out my mistake! I had corrected an error in this chapter and then mistakenly selected a chapter from Outsider when I re-uploaded it. Oops. Thankfully, I still had the Word file for this chapter, so it's fixed, now! Enjoy. :)

Chapter 21

The next afternoon, Chiara woke with a start as the door to her room slid open. The datapad she had using when she fell asleep had slid from her hands while she dozed. She blinked against the brightness of the lights. Thrawn was half way out her door by the time her eyes focused on his retreating back.

"Thrawn?" she called sleepily. He paused and turned back to her.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said, coming back in and crossing to her bedside.

"It's fine, I was just dozing a bit."

"How are you feeling?" Thrawn asked, his brow furrowing in concern. "Is it time for you to take more pain medication?"

Chiara shook her head. "No. It's really not too bad, as long as I don't move around. Besides, I prefer to rely on the Force to manage the pain when possible, rather than medication."

"Are you hungry? I can have something brought up to you. Perhaps some of the k'sihi that you like so much," he suggested.

Chiara chuckled inwardly, careful not to let her amusement show. It doesn't matter if they are human or Chiss - men just want something they can do or fix. "I'm fine, really," she said. "There is something you could help me with, though." She picked up the datapad from the bed and thumbed it on. "I've been working on translating this into Cheunh, but I can't seem to get this passage right," she said, offering him the datapad. He crossed the room and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed near her knees.

He read the indicated line in Basic, then looked at the translation she had written below it. "It is very close, but the use of vutar isn't correct. That word implies angry passion. Ch'in'ei would be a better choice, in this context."

"Okay, what about here?" she pointed a few lines down. "Is bseti the correct word for 'brightness'?"

"It is," Thrawn confirmed, giving the datapad back. "Do I get to hear your translation?"

"No, you're just going to make fun of me for not being able to pronounce the Cheunh correctly."

"You have my word that I will do no such thing. How do you expect to ever improve if you don't practice?"

"I do practice. It's not my fault my vocal chords can't handle the sounds. I'll try it, though," she assented. She took a moment to skim through the translation, thinking through some of the more complex sounds. She took a deep breath and started reading in Cheunh:

"You are the calm, the restful peace:
You are my longing and what makes it cease.
With passion and pain to you I give
My eyes and heart are yours to live.
Enter here and close quietly behind you
The gates of your gentle embrace.
All other grief you dispel from my breast:
My heart swells with the love of you.
Your brightness alone lights the canopy
Of my eyes. Oh, fill it completely!"

She looked up as she finished reading, wanting to gauge Thrawn's reaction. The expression on his face was unreadable. "Was the pronunciation and translation pretty close?"

Thrawn's forehead wrinkled and, for the first time since she had met him, he seemed to have to search for words. Then, to her surprise, instead of answering, he leaned forward slowly to trace her cheek with one finger. He gently tilted her chin up until she was looking into his fiery red eyes. Here eyes widened as he closed the last few inches between them and kissed her softly, almost tentatively. Her brain froze in astonishment for a pair of heartbeats; he seemed about to draw back when she didn't respond when she finally unfroze, closing her eyes and relaxing into his touch, lips gently moving against his. Thrawn's fingers skimmed her jaw as he released her chin and and cupped her neck gently, his fingers tangling in her hair.

No! A voice from somewhere inside her head screamed. You are a Jedi! This is forbidden. Somehow, though, she just couldn't bring herself to care anymore. Her fingers gripped the arm that was supporting his weight as he leaned across the bed. She wanted to run her fingers through his silky, blue-black hair but her arms seemed to have forgotten how to move. His lips tasted of mint and she inhaled his slightly woody scent. She was surprisingly breathless when their lips parted. She opened her eyes slowly and found his glowing red eyes staring into hers with an intensity she had never seen, before. She blushed under his scrutiny and released his elbow, her eyes dropping to her hands as they now lay in her lap.

Thrawn cleared his throat softly. "I'm sorry, " he said, standing. "I should not have done that. Shall I leave?"

His words stung a bit, but Chiara caught his hand as he started to go, wincing at the pain that shot through her as she moved. "Don't leave," she said, blinking back sudden tears. "Please." She couldn't tell if the tears were from the pain or the confusing tumult of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Probably both, she decided.

Slowly, Thrawn sat back down, his normally bright eyes clouded with emotion. Chiara stretched out towards him with the Force, trying to get a read on his emotions, but she couldn't even begin to understand the roiling storm she felt from him. "You can't just kiss me and then walk way," she chastised him gently. He tugged his hand free and looked away. "Why are you upset?"

"It is considered inappropriate to kiss a woman without first asking for her permission, unless it is a relationship that is already well established," he explained, studiously avoiding meeting her gaze. "And clearly you are embarrassed, which would suggest that my actions were not welcome."

Chiara might have chuckled if she hadn't thought he might take it the wrong way. She'd always heard that inter-species relationships were usually complicated by cultural differences and assumptions and now it looked like she was going to get firsthand experience in the subject. "Look at me," she commanded. She had to wait for three long heartbeats before he unwillingly complied. "First of all, if it is consent that you are worried about, you have permission to kiss me any time you feel so inclined. Secondly, I'm not embarrassed by you kissing me, it's just... Well, attachment is forbidden for a Jedi. In all my 384 years, no one has ever looked at me the way that you do; I've never wanted anyone else to. It's both wonderful and just a bit unnerving at the same time," she admitted.

"Then why were you blushing?" he asked, sounding confused.

"I was afraid that maybe I was bad at kissing," she confessed sheepishly. "Sometimes I have a hard time reading your face and you were looking at me so intently..."

Finally, a hint of a smile touched his lips. "Although I don't have experience to compare it to, I would not say that you are a bad kisser."

The door chime sounded before she could reply. Thrawn hastily stood up as the door slid open to admit Chaf'alm'itrina. "Chiara, how are you feeling today?" he asked, picking up the hypospray and examining it to see how many doses had been used, oblivious to the tête-à-tête he'd interrupted. "I see you've cut back on the medication, already."

"Yes, it makes me too sleepy."

"The dose must not be quite right, it should not have that effect. Your metabolism is quite a bit slower than ours, so it is hard to know exactly how much to give you." Chaf'alm'itrina adjusted the settings on the hypospray. "Try this and see if it is better." His eyes narrowed as he checked her pulse. "Your heart rate is elevated. What have you been doing?"

She felt a blush creep up her neck and warm her cheeks, again. Thankfully, the medic hadn't seemed to figure out what that reaction indicated, yet. "Nothing. I took a nap and then Thrawn and I were just talking."

"Hmm," the medic said, his eyes searching her face for some explanation for the increase in her heart rate. Chiara forced herself to meet his gaze evently, but she could feel her blush deepen under his scrutiny. "Alright, then. Try the adjusted dose and let me know if it still makes you sleepy. I will check on you again tomorrow," he finally said.

"Thank you," she said as he headed out the door.

Thrawn waited for the door to slide shut before he sat down on the edge of her bed again. "You're 384?" he asked, sounding a bit surprised. "How long do your people live?"

"I'll let you know, if I ever meet another one," she said drily. "No one seems to know what I am or where I came from. I was found wandering around on my adoptive father's grounds when I was about three years old. I pretty much stopped aging when I hit about 20, though. Not much has changed since then, physically speaking."

Thrawn was clearly still trying to wrap his head around the idea. "And how long are your years? Perhaps it's just a difference in calculations."

"A year is 368 days. There is a slight difference in the length of a day, at least. Each day is 24 hours long, in the Republic."

"Whereas they are 25 hours long, here. Our years are 462 days, as well." Thrawn did the math. "But that still means you are 293 years old, by our calculations."

"Is that a problem?" She asked.

"Not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It's just another surprising fact that I didn't know about you."

"How long have you..." she trailed off, looking for the right way to ask her question. She cleared her throat nervously. "How long have you, ahh, been interested in me?"

"I'm not quite sure," he told her. "The first time that I consciously realized it was during the expedition with the science team, when you were attacked by the avian. I didn't fully understand the depths of my feelings until the invasion; I had thought it was just a passing interest that would fade once you were gone."

"Watching someone you care about almost die will do that to you," she pointed out. "So that's why you were suddenly in a hurry to take me back to the Republic?"

Thrawn looked a bit embarrassed. "Yes. In my own defense, I also thought you wanted to go back and that you did not reciprocate my inclinations."

"You don't have to explain yourself," she told him. "This sort of thing is confusing at best, even when two people are from the same species and cultural background."

That elicited a half-smile from him. "It is, indeed. Were you serious when you said that I didn't need further permission to kiss you?"

"Yes, why?" she asked. In answer, Thrawn leaned forward and kissed her again.