Medieval AU!

Three months. Three months in chains, every day her fate hanging on the whim of either an unpredictable master or a naïve king. Would she be traded for the freedoms of certain provinces taken during the war, or would she be executed? One was just as bad as the other when she considered the reception she would in all likelihood get from her own side. The constant, daily uncertainty had pushed her past mildly worried to downright irritated. Whatever they decided to do with her she just wished they would hurry up and be done with it. All this waiting around for something to happen was pissing her off.

At least her captors had allowed her some small measure of freedom after proving she wasn't going to murder anyone in their sleep (the chains stayed on her hands and ankles, though); during the day she was given free rein in the gardens, but she was expected to be back inside the castle where eyes could be kept on her by nightfall.

Tonight was the one exception to the stipulation. King Palpatine had organized some grand party for the evening to reaffirm foreign allegiances and boost morale. Apparently, despite the capture of Count Dooku's sorceress, the tide of war was not going in their favor. That knowledge both infuriated and terrified her. All this time she had thought her magicks and her abilities were crucial to her side of the war effort, only to learn that she was just as expendable as any foot soldier. She hated that feeling of worthlessness. The only thing that took the sting away was knowing that Palpatine and his precious Knights, technically on loan from the Holy Jedi Order, weren't as powerful as they had thought.

Either way, tonight the sorceress was allowed out (forced out, actually) while the party commenced. Too much worry that she might show her face and ruin the grand time, apparently. Well, that suited her just fine. She had no desire to be among a throng of enemy combatants and supporters, even if she could amuse herself with baiting them. The fireflies, cool spring air, and newly blossoming roses were better company than pompous kings, hypocritical politicians, and arrogant Knights.

Asajj Ventress took her time in wandering deep into one of the many gardens that dotted the palace grounds. The farther away she could get from the sounds of revelry pouring from the windows the better. Of course, she couldn't escape it entirely, but she sure as hell could try. Lifting her hand to a half-opened bloom, she almost forgot about the manacles around her wrists. She'd almost become used to her restraints. The thought was disturbing, but the scent of the blood-red flower under her fingertips chased it away.

The scene was almost perfect: budding flowers of various colors and beautiful scents, high, green hedges to create a maze of sorts, and a full moon sailing in the night sky overhead. The only things that marred her temporary peace were the abysmal music, the raucous laughter, and the glaring fires from torches and bonfires that blotted out what little starlight would have visible this night. Oh, and the chains, of course. And the fact that she was still in enemy territory with the lay people calling for her beheading everyday.

Other than that, the evening was very nice indeed.

"I wasn't aware you were so fond of flowers." And now it was ruined all over again.

Asajj growled under her breath as she turned to the source of that damnable voice. "I wasn't aware you made it a habit to stalk defenseless women, Kenobi."

He smiled at her, that irritating smile where only one side of his mouth turned up as if silently mocking her. No, she wasn't still bitter about her defeat at his hands. No, not at all. "I think we can both agree that you're anything but defenseless, my dear."

Her silver gaze flicked up and down. She wasn't sure if that was meant to be a joke or if he was being serious. Rather than give herself a headache analyzing it, she turned to fully face him, her feet set as wide as the chains would let them and her head held high. "What do you want, Jedi?"

"Such bite in your words," he said as he stepped to the same flower she had been studying and lifted it to his nose. Odd how his touch was so gentle despite the heavy glove. "Have I not always been courteous to you?"

"You killed my guards and marched me into your palace as a prisoner of war," she said flatly. "Oh, and these" -she raised her hands to rattle the chain- "not exactly the kind of jewelry a lady wants to be given."

"They were the only style the jewelsmith had in stock." His gaze lowered to her wrists, but not before lingering on her neck and chest; Asajj didn't know how she felt about that. Odd. "Though I will admit, you do look better without them."

"Then by all means. Anything to look pretty for you, Sir Knight."

"Well, that's not up to me, now is it." He kept smiling at her. What the hell was so amusing? He never seemed like the type to gloat over a victory. Apparently she had been wrong about that. Yet another reason for her temper to rise.

"So, why aren't you living it up with your Jedi friends and your King, Kenobi?" She turned away and started down the gravel path, half hoping he wouldn't follow. "Seems like a bad trade to miss all that to bask in my radiant company."

She bit down a groan when he fell into step beside her, hands clasped behind his back as if he were simply strolling with an old friend. "Firstly, he's not my king. I support the monarchy itself, not necessarily the monarch. And secondly, I'm not much for parties. Give me a library or a sparring ring any day." She felt his eyes slide towards her. She ignored it. "Now that you mention it, I'm surprised you haven't tried to crash the celebration. You must be awfully bored."

"You think I go around crashing dull parties whenever I get bored?"

He shrugged. "In this case, it seems like something you might do."

The chuckle left her mouth before she could stop it. "In case you haven't noticed, my dear, prisoners of war don't exactly make for good party guests. And my lovely jewelry makes any kind of merriment rather difficult."

Her hackles rose when he reached into his tunic. He wouldn't reach for a weapon now...would he? A lifetime of betrayal and the necessity of watching her back made her paranoia flare up regardless of what she knew about him. She relaxed when it wasn't a weapon he pulled from his robes.

"How lucky for you that I have the key, then." He held it aloft like a some kind of trophy...or bait.

"What are you doing?"

One shoulder lifted and fell in a shrug. How did he make even that simple move seem graceful and planned down to the last muscle movement? "I just thought perhaps we could have our own party." He said it so lightly and causally he may as well have been commenting on a peculiar cloud formation. "Unless, of course, you'd rather remained shackled in your solitude."

Kenobi was up to something, she knew it. But she sensed no malice, no trickery from him. He was one of the few she could never get a clear read on; another reason he irritated her so much. As much as she would rather have fallen on her own sword than admit it aloud, his offer intrigued her. She'd spent so much time alone even before being captured that intelligent company, any company, was tempting. In her captivity, she had come to realize that she did miss trading barbs with someone like him.

Instead, she simply said, "Are you sure you can trust such an evil Sith sorceress? I may cast a spell on you and escape."

To her surprise, he just laughed. She refused to admit that it was a nice sound. A pleasant one. "If you were going to do that, my dear, you would have done it by now." He motioned to her hands, and she lifted them. His fingers were gentle when they closed around each forearm. Hard to believe such gentility could exist in hands that were also so skilled with a blade. Then again, although she'd had no reason to express it in years, she could be just as flexible when it came to touch. But it had been so long since she'd done so. Perhaps she had lost that skill by now...

A sharp clang broke her out of her errant thoughts. Kenobi had tossed her manacles aside like they were nothing. She raised a brow at him. "You won't be needing them right now."

Feeling bold, she pushed the side of her split skirt back to expose one pale leg. "And the ankle restraints?"

His gaze was inscrutable when he looked back up, but his eyes did linger a little longer than necessary. "I don't trust you that much yet, darling."

Now she smirked; more of a grin, actually. "You'd be a fool to do so, my dear. I would hate to think less of you now of all times."

He returned her grin, then swept one arm towards her in a low bow. "May I have the honor of this dance, my lady?"

Asajj almost laughed. One of the most touted and devoted Jedi was actually flirting with her and asking her to dance. And Force help her, she was playing along. "You're terrified of parties, but you'll dance with a witch." She took the offered hand just the same. "What a peculiar man you are, Kenobi."

She allowed him to draw her closer. When his other hand settled on her hip, she had to suppress a shiver. Momentary anger at herself flared in her breast; she wasn't some doe-eyed maiden unfamiliar with the touch of a man. It dissipated quickly, however, as he stepped forward to force her back. "I never said I was terrified of them. I just prefer more...unconventional company."

Asajj instinctively placed her free hand on his pauldron and wondered if he ever removed his armor even when not in the midst of battle. She fell into the rhythm of the simple dance quickly; the faint music drifting on the breeze from the palace helped her keep time with the steps. "Well, an enemy prisoner of war is about as unconventional as it gets, sir Jedi."

They continued their dance in quiet, but not in silence. The swish of his cloak and her skirt along the gravel and against the bushes accompanied their movements. The tiny rocks beneath their feet ground together as they moved down the path. Was it her imagination or was the music growing louder? One look at her dance partner and she realized she didn't care. As the minutes went by, battlelines disappeared. Worry over her fate faded. The war itself fell away. All that mattered in this moment was a man and a woman basking in each other's presence while they had privacy.

It wasn't until the music dissipated into silence broken only by the crackle of torchfire and the chorus of insects that Asajj realized how close they had become. The gloved hand that had tentatively held her hip now pressed into the dip of her lower back. Her bare hand that had rested on his shoulder armor now lightly touched the soft flesh of his neck. Her chest brushed against his with each breath she took. There was a moment of hesitation, but the sudden look of intensity in those bright blue eyes drew her in. She glanced down to see that his lips had parted, and registered the soft touch of his breath on her face.

If she had had better control of her faculties she wouldn't have moved her hand from his neck to his bearded cheek. She wouldn't have started leaning forward with the intention of drawing that breath into her own lungs. She certainly wouldn't have lifted her right knee against his leg to press herself more intimately against him...

The world crashed back into place when her leg gave a sudden jerk. How could she have forgotten the shackles around her ankles? She blinked hard and shook her head to clear away whatever fantasy had invaded her mind. She was a Sith sorceress, a woman who had no qualms about committing murder on a massive scale, a prisoner of war. And he was a Jedi Knight. He was her enemy.

Asajj pulled back so quickly she must have taken Obi-Wan by surprise; he lurched forward even as she slipped from his hands. She averted her eyes when she saw the confusion and tiny hint of hurt in his face. Why did that expression on him bother her so much?

"Ah, Sir Knight," a voice called from nearby. Asajj started at the suddenness of it. "There you are."

She waited until Obi-Wan turned away to make her disappearance around the corner of a hedge. Not too far, though. Perhaps she could overhear something useful if King Palpatine believed he and the Jedi were alone. "Your Majesty," she heard the Knight say. She could clearly picture the bow he must have given the king.

"What are you doing out here all alone when there's a celebration to enjoy?" She couldn't place it, but something in Palpatine's voice made her skin crawl. His words were genial enough, but his voice...

"I was just...enjoying the night air."

You're a terrible liar, Kenobi, she thought with a grin.

Palpatine either didn't notice the flimsy lie or chose to ignore it. "Well, come come, my boy. There are several friends who are most eager to meet you."

"Me?" Again, she had a clear image of what the Jedi must have looked like: eyes wide, his head slightly bowed, and a hand going to his chest.

"Yes, of course! Your exploits in this blasted war have earned you a great many admirers. Come, come!"

Asajj took a chance and peered around the hedge when she heard their footsteps moving away. For the briefest of moments her eyes locked onto Kenobi's as he looked over his shoulder. It took a great effort to make her expression blank, but she managed. Secretly, she wondered what might have happened if they hadn't been interrupted. If she had kissed him, would Palpatine have seen? Would the Jedi have kissed her back? From this distance, it was hard to tell if he was thinking along the same lines, so she contented herself with the thought that maybe he was.

The following weeks passed much the same as always, but this time she had occasional company in the form of one of the most celebrated Jedi Knights. Always in secret, always under cover of night, always brimming with tension of a different kind. If anyone had seen them together, they would have thought the witch and the Knight were simply involved in lively discussions. Which they were more often than not, but the banter that they had started on the battlefield had grown bolder with each passing day.

Her fate still rested on the whim of a king who needed no approval from court if he desired her death. Or for one of the vaunted Jedi Knights who needed approval from no one to behead her if their emotions got the better of them for just an instant. All she could do now was wait, either for a chance to escape, for her execution date to be set, or to be back in the grip of her Master.

Somehow, none of that bothered her as much as it once had. She refused to think it was because of Kenobi...but the thought did have a ring of truth to it. And as the days went on, even that didn't bother her so much anymore.