A/N: Thank you to everyone who is still reading and reviewing, it means a lot. I should warn you, this chapter is probably rated a very strong T. I haven't posted a scene like this before, please let me know if I got the rating wrong, I wasn't sure if it might count as an M.

Chapter 9

The clock struck five as Maison hurried through the palace. Part of him wanted to question his Zhelan about what he and the Jedi had been up to in town. His guards had given him as much information as they could and from the sounds of it their trip hadn't been eventful. They had simply wandered about before meeting Pjedro and coming back. But they had talked plenty and now he wanted to know what about.

The other part, the part that would probably get its way, simply wanted to put his King business away and see Obi-Wan. The fifth hour was dedicated to him after all, and he had already wasted time.

"You're late," Obi-Wan noted as soon as Maison stepped into his room.

Obi-Wan had made himself comfortable on his bed. The simple, loose-fitting outfit he had chosen for him did nothing to distract from his beauty. He just lay there with the afternoon sun casting soft shadows over his delicate face and making his red hair glow like a flame.

"Do you want me to apologise?"

"Would you, if I asked you to?"

Maison sat on the edge of the bed, looking down into those stormy eyes, something was there that he couldn't quite place.

"I would do almost anything for you." Especially now.

A smile graced his features and he pulled Maison down to kiss him. In one swift movement he had Maison on his back and straddled him. The duvet beneath him was warm from where Obi-Wan had been lying.

He ran his thumb along Maison's bottom lip, like Maison loved to do to him, and raised his chin slightly.

"Apologise to me, Maison."

That simple command sent a shiver down Maison's spine. "Forgive me, Obi-Wan."

The Zhelan replied with a passionate kiss. His hands slipped under Maison's shirt effortlessly to pull it off.

Maison didn't think he had ever needed the fifth hour more. With the Republic suddenly so nosy and two Jedi under his roof acting suspiciously he needed the distraction. He needed to put the King away for an hour and simply be Maison, letting Obi-Wan take control of him.

When it was over, Maison rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillows. As always, he wished for more time, but duty called again until the evening. He took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. That was when he really noticed something was wrong with Obi-Wan.

He usually teased him like no Zhelan before him had ever dared to do. Maison found it oddly endearing. But today Obi-Wan lay there, silently staring at the ceiling.

When the clock struck six, he stood up and put his shirt on without a word. Maison held him back, inflicting surprise in thoughtful eyes.

"It's sixth hour, you have work to get back to."

"That can wait." He watched Obi-Wan carefully as the surprise on his face grew.

Obi-Wan was usually full of life and sarcastic comments, but now he seemed dulled and it worried Maison.

"You look sick."

"I'm fine."

Maison could see he was lying.

"Was it the sun?" If it was, he knew what his next business would be.

The look in Obi-Wan's eyes hardened. "No." He was always so protective of the servants. But he believed him because he could see it was something else. Something that had been there since the day the Jedi turned up.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing."

"The truth, Obi-Wan."

He waited for him to speak, but instead a single tear rolled down his cheek. Maison caught it with his thumb, brushing over Obi-Wan's fair skin. He frowned ever so slightly as Obi-Wan's facade cracked. Maison should have realised sooner. His fingers brushed lightly over the side of his forehead and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

"Where are you?"

The tears came in streams and Maison took Obi-Wan into his arms as he leant forward to bury his face in Maison's shoulder.

"Kessel," he whispered.

..oOo..

It took a few tries but by the third day, Obi-Wan was sure he had found a dead spot in the mines where the chip deactivated. His heart skipped beats and his mind struggled to think. This meant he could escape. New life filled him as he gained hope. He had to try. Even if it killed him.

He started taking notice of when ships arrived and left. He took note of guard shifts, product loading times. His mind started forming a plan. If he could stow away on one of the ships, he could get away. No matter where he landed, it would be better than this.

The day finally came. The ship was being loaded. Obi-Wan had a small window now.

He snuck down the tunnels until he reached the dead spot. His hand shook as he held the tip of his vibropick against his forearm where the chip was buried.

The metal was rusted and dirty, not to mention not particularly sharp but it was the best he had. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard it bled as he tried to make the cut.

I can't do this, he thought as blood spilled over his arm. The chip was buried deep, and he was sure he was going to pass out. If he hadn't lost so much weight over his time on Kessel, it might have been a harder task.

He was shaking so violently now that his fingers could barely find the cut. Hot tears streamed down his face as he felt for the metal surface. There was so much blood, he wasn't sure if he had caught a vein.

Time was running out. He knew the ship would be leaving soon and he had to be on it.

Finally, his finger brushed against the device, making him flinch. What if it was still active? He didn't care anymore. He grabbed hold of it and pulled.

Obi-Wan didn't realise he had blacked out until he woke up lying on the stone hard floor of the tunnel. His arm felt like it was as thick as a log, he couldn't move his fingers, but the chip was out and now he needed to run.

He prayed to the Force that he hadn't been out for too long. As he caught sight of the ship ready to depart, he felt his luck change. The Force reminded him of the guards, and he ducked behind a crate. A few more meters. He didn't know whether his legs would carry him even that, but he hoped that if he failed the Pykes would be merciful enough to just shoot him.

Deep breaths. The loading ramps were being cleared. Deep breaths. The guards turned their attention to the pilot, Obi-Wan could see them talking. This was his chance.

He ran for it, slipping into the cargo hold of the ship, just as the loading ramp was closing. He squeezed between two crates, thankful for his tiny size and pushed himself up to the cold durasteel wall. Pure terror grabbed him as he waited for someone to find him and drag him back into the mines, but no one came. The ship took off and he was finally off Kessel.

He clasped his hand over his mouth so no one would hear him cry.

..oOo..

Obi-Wan registered that they were walking but it wasn't until he felt warm water on his head that he realised where they were.

Maison pulled away from him slightly to wash the tears off his face.

"You're safe."

"It hurts." He rubbed his arm where the scar used to be until Maison took it into his hand and kissed it lightly.

"There's nothing there." Somehow Maison's factual tone was reassuring.

"There's nothing there," Obi-Wan repeated, he knew it was the truth, but he still needed to convince himself of it. Gingerly he moved his fingers. The damage he had done had been completely healed allowing him to move normally. Not a single trace of the ugly scar remained. "There's nothing there."

"And there never will be." Maison cupped his cheek and simply let his hand rest there as the water washed away the redness in Obi-Wan's face.

Slowly, Obi-Wan felt his body relax and his mind come to rest. He focused on the water flowing over his skin and the gentle touch of Maison's hand.

Maison was taking care of him. Why did Qui-Gon have to ruin it all? Obi-Wan liked it here. He liked being taken care of for once. He knew that Maison didn't love him but what did that matter? He was valuable to him. He was respected by him. He trusted him and trust was something Obi-Wan had never been able to rely on before. Qui-Gon had no idea what he was talking about. Yes, Maison had his rules, but how was that different from following Qui-Gon's rules when he was a Padawan?

"Deep breaths, Obi-Wan."

He followed the gentle order and let Maison run his fingers through his damp hair.

"The Jedi will pay for this."

There was a small part of him that actually considered letting Maison do what he wanted. Qui-Gon had brought him nothing but pain. Why was he supposed to save his life? But the considerably larger part of him shook his head.

"They've made plans to leave. Let them go."

"After what they've done to you?"

"It's not worth attracting the Republic's attention."

Maison's grip on his chin was firm when he tilted Obi-Wan's face up to meet his gaze. Even as they stood in the shower with soaked hair and water dripping down their faces, Maison looked like the King again. Now he was in charge, and you could see it in his eyes.

"If the Republic comes, I will deal with them. But no one gets to hurt you."

Obi-Wan looked at him in surprise as he heard what Maison hadn't said out loud. You're worth it.

He grabbed the sides of Maison's head and saw his eyes soften again just before he pulled him close to kiss. They stumbled until Maison's back was against the wall. The water ran down their faces and caught between their lips. Obi-Wan pushed everything else out of his mind because in this moment he felt alive.

o-O-o

Palpatine ended the playback, making the small Jedi disappear.

He couldn't believe they would just give up. The King said no, so what? They had no idea how important Beimeni was to his plan. If the legends were true, it would change everything.

He drummed his fingers on his desk. He had expected at least Anakin to try harder for him. It had been clear the Jedi wouldn't be forceful, but they were supposed to be good negotiators. Beimeni was supposed to be kept discrete.

"I need to make a private call," he said to his assistant who then left promptly.

If the Republic couldn't get him Beimeni, then he was sure the Separatists could.

o-O-o

Sleep tugged at the corners of Obi-Wan's consciousness. He felt the calming rise and fall of Maison's chest beneath him and let himself fall deeper into his embrace.

Things would go back to normal now. The Jedi would be gone by tonight and Obi-Wan could go back to his life.

Maison had called for the servants to bring him something to calm him. But the cold glass of fresh water and Maison's gentle fingers in his hair were all he needed to let sleep finally take him without being scared of the nightmares. So the small pouch of chamomile sat on Maison's nightstand just in case.

He felt the oasis pulse with the Force in his subconscious. He knew how the subterranean rivers flowed kilometres below the deserts like a huge web. There were rains due in the north that would carry down to Solice by tomorrow. The people of the capitol were out working in the baking sun. The Clones on the ship were playing cards. He let his mind skip over the Jedi because he knew they were up to more than planning their departure. And also because his attention was being drawn elsewhere.

Trouble was coming.