TITLE: First Knight - Part Nine
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Anakin uncrossed his arms as another roll of thunder boomed through the manor. However, the thunder could not compete with Lady Tsara's snoring. He looked over at her. Her knitting lay in her lap, her chins resting upon her chest. A thin strand of spittle dangled from the corner of her open mouth from which was coming a sound which would have made the fiercest Tusken Raider flee in terror.
Anakin grimaced and looked away from her. He sighed and re-crossed his arms. The thunderstorm had been going on for some time now, but he still had not sensed Obi-Wan's presence in the bridal chamber. Anakin was tempted to go look for his master and Onara. Of course, he was also aware that if he were to do so, Lady Tsara and the others would learn the two had snuck out of the bridal chamber. Anakin was pretty sure that definitely was not allowed during the blessing ceremony, therefore he didn't want to take the chance of getting them into trouble. And, anyway, Obi-Wan was a very capable Jedi. There wasn't much his master couldn't handle. Anakin had been a witness to that over the years.
He yawned as he rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't terribly tired, but he wouldn't pass up the offer of a nice warm bed if it were offered to him either. Then he heard a sound from within the bridal chamber. He sat up. It was Obi-Wan. Anakin could feel him. He sat back in his chair and relaxed. Only a few more hours till dawn. He closed his eyes and, as he let himself slumber lightly for a bit, despite all the racket Lady Tsara was making with her snoring, wondered if Obi-Wan and Onara had made love in the rain. And what it had felt like.
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Onara held tight to Obi-Wan as he landed on the ledge of the bridal chamber window. She felt him stagger a bit, and the thought flashed through her mind he was going to fall backwards with her in his arms. However, Obi-Wan quickly regained his balance, stepping off the ledge and into the chamber. He lowered her to the floor. She released his neck and moved away from him. They both were dripping water onto the carpet, but Obi-Wan's Jedi clothing didn't seem to be as soaked as hers.
Onara looked down at herself. Her dress clung to her body, showing every inch of her. Her cheeks colored. She might as well have worn that shameless blessing gown. She looked back up and saw Obi-Wan was staring at her body too. Then he looked up, his eyes meeting hers.
"I'll get you some towels," he said quickly. He turned and went into the 'fresher.
Onara went over to the window. She waved her hand in front of the sensor which would lower the glass. She turned back toward the chamber, rubbing her arms. The room was cold and her being wet didn't help.
"Here."
Onara turned and Obi-Wan handed her a towel. She took it and worked on drying her hair. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, had moved over to the fireplace.
"I'll make a fire," he said as he knelt down. "I suggest you get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death."
Onara lowered the towel from her head. "And just what am I supposed to wear?"
There were no other clothes in the chamber and her ceremonial robe had been taken away. Obi-Wan looked at her over his shoulder.
"Take a sheet off the bed and wrap yourself in it."
He turned back to the fireplace. Onara stared at the back of his head. Take a sheet off the bed and wrap herself in it? Really? Did he think she was going to traipse around in the chamber wearing only a bedsheet?
"Well, you can wear that or nothing," she heard him say as he continued to work on the fire.
Onara jumped. Was he reading her mind again? She shivered and realized she really did want to get out of these wet, uncomfortable clothes. Even her undergarments were soaked. She went over to the bed, pushing back the gauzy curtain surrounding it. She pulled back the covers, wondering where her father had found this monstrosity. The bed was big enough for six people to sleep comfortably in. She pulled off one of the top sheets and turned back to Obi-Wan. He had finished with the fire. She walked over to the fireplace and, the sheet bunched under her arm, held her hands to it.
"Feels nice," she said.
Obi-Wan rose next to her as he also held his hands before the fire.
"It would feel even nicer if you were to get out of those wet clothes."
Onara tilted her head up at him. "You seem most intent, Master Jedi, on getting me out of my clothes."
"Only because I don't want your father or grandmother blaming me if you come down with pneumonia."
"Grandmother!" Onara gasped.
She looked down at her dress. Not only was it wet, there were grass stains on it and, she also saw, it was ripped near the bottom where the valkon's claws had torn through it. She looked at Obi-Wan. His tunic, though most of the blood had been washed away by the rain, still had had some splatters of blood on it, along with grass stains and smears of mud.
"She's going to know we went outside, Obi-Wan. She'll be furious."
Obi-Wan shrugged. "That's the least of my concerns. Now, are you going to get out of those wet clothes or shall I have to do the honors?"
Onara stepped away, clutching the balled-up sheet in front of her like a shield.
"You'll do no such thing," she said fiercely. She stared hard at Obi-Wan as he continued to gaze back at her. "Well, are you going to turn around or what?"
Obi-Wan sighed. He moved away from the fireplace and went over to stand in front of the window, his arms crossed over his chest, his back to the room.
"Is this better?" he asked her.
"Yes," Onara replied as she quickly unfastened her dress and stepped out of it.
"And don't you dare turn around until I'm done," she went on as she took off her undergarments.
She heard Obi-Wan laugh softly. Onara quickly dried herself off with the towel. She was about to wrap the sheet around her, but something about the way Obi-Wan had laughed made her stop. She looked over to where he was still standing facing the window and saw what he had been laughing about.
He was looking at her reflection in the window's glass! Onara's eyes widened. He could see everything! She hastily wrapped the sheet about her body. Then she reached over, snatched a wine goblet from off the table and flung it at the back of his head.
Obi-Wan quickly turned, faster than Onara thought anyone could move, and neatly caught the goblet. He grinned as he tossed it in his hand.
"Really, Onara," he said as he walked over to her, placing the goblet back on the table. "Don't you know goblets are made for drinking, not for tossing."
"Oh! You...you...horrible man! Why didn't you say something?"
Obi-Wan walked over until he was standing right in front of her. He gazed down at her, his blue-gray eyes warm and deep in the firelight.
"And spoil that lovely vision," he murmured.
Onara shivered at his words, but the idea he had watched her undress and not said a word infuriated her. She turned away from him. However, she discovered that walking wrapped in a bedsheet required a bit more dexterity than she had imagined. She stumbled slightly, her feet tangling in the sheet. Obi-Wan grabbed her arm to steady her, but she angrily shook him off.
"Let go of me!" she cried.
She made her way over to the chair and, checking to make sure the sheet was wrapped securely about her body, sat in it. She then scooted the chair around until she was facing the fire.
She heard Obi-Wan walk up behind her. "I'm sorry, Onara. I shouldn't have spied on you like that."
"I would think a Jedi Knight," Onara fumed, "would not stoop so low as to watch a lady undress when she has specifically stated she did not want to be watched. And if, by chance, he were to see her as she undressed, he would at least have the decency to say something."
"You're right, Onara. Please forgive me. It's just that when I saw you, I was suddenly struck dumb and found myself unable to speak. Your loveliness made speech impossible."
Onara snorted softly as she gazed into the fire. What a smooth talker he was. The Jedi were renowned throughout the galaxy for their negotiating skills. That certainly involved a lot of smooth talking.
"And know this," Obi-Wan went on, his voice low and warm. "Although I am a Jedi, I'm not impervious to beauty."
Onara rolled her eyes and kept her gaze fastened on the fire.
"And you did order me not to turn around until you were done," Obi-Wan added.
Onara slowly turned from the fire and glared up at Obi-Wan. Just as she suspected he was smiling at her.
"Oh, so now it's my fault you spied on me. Humph!"
She angrily crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to the fire.
"Again, please forgive my indiscretion," Obi-Wan said. "Now, why don't you get into bed?"
She looked back up at him, her eyes narrowing. "And do what, may I ask?"
He frowned. "And get some rest," he replied as he went over and picked her wet clothes off the floor. "What else did you think I meant?"
"What are you doing with my clothes?"
She blushed as she watched him pick up her undergarments.
Obi-Wan draped them over his arm. "I'm going to hang these somewhere so they'll dry."
"I could have done that," Onara said.
"But you didn't, did you?"
"Are you calling me a slob, Master Obi-Wan?"
"No, but it's apparent you're used to having people pick up after you."
Onara gasped, her eyes widening. "Now you're saying I'm spoiled!"
"Onara," Obi-Wan said calmly. "I am not saying anything about you. I am merely making observations. It is you who are labeling yourself so. Perhaps that is how you see yourself."
"Oh, you!" Onara cried as she searched around for something to throw at him.
Obi-Wan shook his head and laughed. "If it will make you feel any better and, hopefully, calm you down, you can watch me undress. Then we will be even."
Onara's mouth dropped open at his words, her heart thudding in her chest.
"I most certainly will not watch you undress, Master Kenobi!" she cried. "What do you take me for?"
She whipped her head away from him and looked hard into the orange-red flames of the fire.
"All right. I'll dry myself off in the 'fresher. Which you could have done if you had really not wanted me to see you," he added with a teasing laugh. "And I'll hang your clothes up in there too."
Onara said nothing, but she did blush at the idea that he thought she had wanted him to spy on her. She frowned. She most certainly had not wanted him to see her naked and was about to tell him so but, instead, she kept her eyes focused on the fire.
When she heard the 'fresher door slide shut behind her, she released a deep breath and put her hand on her cheek. Obi-Wan was confusing her and she did not like being confused. One minute it felt as if he was going to kiss her. The next, as if it were the last thing on his mind. However, he had kissed her in the rain. Onara scowled. But only on the forehead. Then she smiled. But he had whispered those words in her ear. She shivered. How deliciously improper they had sounded, especially in his rich, warm voice. No one had ever said anything like that to her. Then she frowned. But, he'd also said he hadn't meant them. Or had he?
Onara twisted the edge of the sheet around her fingers. Well, she mused, he had said she was beautiful, and that was why he had spied on her in the window. Onara suddenly wished there was a mirror in the chamber. There was one in the 'fresher but she certainly wasn't going in there while he was in it. She just wanted to look at her reflection for she had never thought of herself as beautiful. Her father said she was, but all fathers said that about their daughters. Grandmother never commented on her looks one way or the other. She had always found other things to nag and pester Onara about.
Onara was tempted to go over to the window and look at herself, but that reminded her of Obi-Wan's spying. She gritted her teeth. Then she again recalled what he had said. That even though he was a Jedi, he found her beautiful. She sighed. She was so confused. She wished her aunts were here. They knew a lot about men. More than she did. Onara had learned much at the Cloister; history, science, philosophy, literature. But one thing she hadn't learned about was men. Especially Jedi men.
However, before Onara could dwell on her thoughts further she heard the 'fresher door open. She deliberately kept her face turned towards the fire. She heard Obi-Wan walking about the chamber. Then she felt something soft on her shoulder. She looked over. It was a honeyrose. Obi-Wan had plucked one from one of the vases scattered about the room. He was stroking her bare shoulder with it. She looked up at him.
"Do you forgive me for spying on you?" he asked, his eyes soft on her.
Onara was about to answer when she saw Obi-Wan was wearing only a large towel which was wrapped low around his hips. Her gaze traveled slowly over his body. She had seen men's bodies before, of course, but never in quite this context; alone in a room bathed with both candle and firelight, the scent of flowers heavy in the air, a storm raging outside and, nearby, a huge, soft, warm bed. A bed in which she was supposed to lose her virginity.
She swallowed heavily as she continued to stare at Obi-Wan's lean, muscular body. And the way he had the towel wrapped around him, it revealed just enough of his hips and the upper part of his pelvis that her thoughts could not help but wonder as to what lay beneath it.
"Well? Do you?" Obi-Wan asked.
Onara started and quickly drew her gaze from his body. She looked up at him, reached over and took the honeyrose. She held it to her nose as she breathed in its sweet, musky scent.
"Yes, I forgive you. For now," she added.
"Good," Obi-Wan said as he moved past her and sat on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Onara kept an eye on that towel, but he had tied it in such a way she doubted it would accidentally slip off. She then looked at his arm.
"Obi-Wan, you've been hurt!" she gasped.
He turned and looked over at her. "What?"
She pointed at the scratches on his lower right arm. "Didn't you know?"
Obi-Wan turned his arm as he examined it. He shrugged and looked back at the fire.
"I've been hurt worse," he said nonchalantly.
"But, those scratches must be treated. You could get an infection."
Onara rose from the chair, careful not to trip in the sheet. She hunted around the vases of flowers until she found what she was looking for. It wasn't a flower, more like a weed actually, but it was often included in bouquets to add some color. Its leaves were a dark red color, but it wasn't the leaves Onara was interested in. She went back to Obi-Wan and knelt next to him, making sure the sheet was wrapped securely around her body.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Mother's Milk."
"Mother's Milk?"
Onara nodded as she broke the stem of the plant. A white liquid oozed out of the broken end.
"The sap has healing properties. Now, be still."
Onara moved the end of the stem along the cuts on Obi-Wan's arm. Once she had enough sap on them, she gently massaged the fluid into the cuts. She tried not to let herself dwell on how smooth and warm his skin felt under her fingers. Once she was done, she moved away, but remained sitting on the floor. Obi-Wan inclined his head to her, giving her small smile.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The two sat in silence for a bit, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Onara looked at her fingers, the tips of which were still tingling from her having touched his skin. She looked over at him. He was still staring into the fire.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Hmmm?"
"A decicred for your thoughts."
Obi-Wan chuckled and the sound lightened Onara's heart. He turned and looked at her.
"I was just thinking of the report I will have to write regarding my mission here. And whether I should mention the blessing ceremony."
Onara smiled. "Well, if your reports are anything like the reports the managers of my father's estates must file every month, I would imagine you're not allowed to leave out a single iota of information."
Obi-Wan smiled and nodded. "I am not."
"So, what will you say?" she asked, inching closer to him.
Obi-Wan tilted his head. "I'm not sure. I was never as good as Qui-Gon at writing mission reports. He was notorious for doing things which would have been frowned upon by the Jedi Council, but when he wrote them up in his reports, they always sounded terribly innocuous."
"Qui-Gon? Who is he?"
"Was," Obi-Wan said, his eyes darkening. "He's dead."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan. Was he a friend?"
"Yes, and more. He was my master."
"Your master? You mean, in the way you are master to Anakin."
Obi-Wan nodded. "He was killed on a mission. Years ago."
Onara heard the pain and sorrow in his voice. She reached over and put her hand over his.
"You miss him, don't you?" she said softly.
"Very much so. There isn't a day that goes by I don't wish he were still alive."
Obi-Wan then turned his hand up so he could clasp hers with it. She took this as a sign and moved closer until she was sitting next to him, her bare shoulder touching his.
"What was he like? If you don't mind talking about him," she quickly added.
Onara suddenly wanted to know everything about Obi-Wan and those who had been important to him.
"No, I don't mind."
He squeezed her hand, but gazed over at the fire as he spoke.
"He was strong, wise and good." Then Obi-Wan laughed softly and looked over at her. "We didn't always see eye to eye on things, but I could not have asked for a better master. I was honored to have been chosen by him."
"So, you're chosen by another Jedi to be their apprentice?"
"Yes. When an initiate reaches the age of thirteen he or she is chosen, either by a Knight or a Master, to be that Jedi's Padawan."
"And what happens before you turn thirteen?"
"All Jedi children live in the Temple. They are divided into ten different clans. Master Yoda instructs all the clans."
"Master Yoda? Who is he? You mentioned him before."
"He is the wisest and strongest of all the Jedi. He's nearly 800 years old. And no taller than the children he trains."
"Really? How old were you when you started your training?"
"I was brought to the Temple as a baby. Candidates come to the Temple when they're between the ages of six months and five years old."
Onara's eyes widened. "You take children away from their families?" she gasped.
Obi-Wan frowned at her. "We don't take them, Onara. We offer to train them. If their families give us permission, then we take them to the Temple."
Onara shook her head. "I don't think I could ever give up a child of mine. Even to become a Jedi." She shrugged. "But, I won't have to worry about making such a decision. I will never have a Force sensitive baby." She grimaced. "Edress is far from being Force sensitive. Actually, I don't think he's sensitive about anything. Except money and power."
Then Onara shuddered at the thought of having to bear Edress children and what she would have to endure from him to do so. Obi-Wan reached over and stroked her cheek.
"Don't think of him, Onara," he said softly, his eyes gazing deep into hers. "He's not here now. But I am." "
To be continued...
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Anakin uncrossed his arms as another roll of thunder boomed through the manor. However, the thunder could not compete with Lady Tsara's snoring. He looked over at her. Her knitting lay in her lap, her chins resting upon her chest. A thin strand of spittle dangled from the corner of her open mouth from which was coming a sound which would have made the fiercest Tusken Raider flee in terror.
Anakin grimaced and looked away from her. He sighed and re-crossed his arms. The thunderstorm had been going on for some time now, but he still had not sensed Obi-Wan's presence in the bridal chamber. Anakin was tempted to go look for his master and Onara. Of course, he was also aware that if he were to do so, Lady Tsara and the others would learn the two had snuck out of the bridal chamber. Anakin was pretty sure that definitely was not allowed during the blessing ceremony, therefore he didn't want to take the chance of getting them into trouble. And, anyway, Obi-Wan was a very capable Jedi. There wasn't much his master couldn't handle. Anakin had been a witness to that over the years.
He yawned as he rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't terribly tired, but he wouldn't pass up the offer of a nice warm bed if it were offered to him either. Then he heard a sound from within the bridal chamber. He sat up. It was Obi-Wan. Anakin could feel him. He sat back in his chair and relaxed. Only a few more hours till dawn. He closed his eyes and, as he let himself slumber lightly for a bit, despite all the racket Lady Tsara was making with her snoring, wondered if Obi-Wan and Onara had made love in the rain. And what it had felt like.
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Onara held tight to Obi-Wan as he landed on the ledge of the bridal chamber window. She felt him stagger a bit, and the thought flashed through her mind he was going to fall backwards with her in his arms. However, Obi-Wan quickly regained his balance, stepping off the ledge and into the chamber. He lowered her to the floor. She released his neck and moved away from him. They both were dripping water onto the carpet, but Obi-Wan's Jedi clothing didn't seem to be as soaked as hers.
Onara looked down at herself. Her dress clung to her body, showing every inch of her. Her cheeks colored. She might as well have worn that shameless blessing gown. She looked back up and saw Obi-Wan was staring at her body too. Then he looked up, his eyes meeting hers.
"I'll get you some towels," he said quickly. He turned and went into the 'fresher.
Onara went over to the window. She waved her hand in front of the sensor which would lower the glass. She turned back toward the chamber, rubbing her arms. The room was cold and her being wet didn't help.
"Here."
Onara turned and Obi-Wan handed her a towel. She took it and worked on drying her hair. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, had moved over to the fireplace.
"I'll make a fire," he said as he knelt down. "I suggest you get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death."
Onara lowered the towel from her head. "And just what am I supposed to wear?"
There were no other clothes in the chamber and her ceremonial robe had been taken away. Obi-Wan looked at her over his shoulder.
"Take a sheet off the bed and wrap yourself in it."
He turned back to the fireplace. Onara stared at the back of his head. Take a sheet off the bed and wrap herself in it? Really? Did he think she was going to traipse around in the chamber wearing only a bedsheet?
"Well, you can wear that or nothing," she heard him say as he continued to work on the fire.
Onara jumped. Was he reading her mind again? She shivered and realized she really did want to get out of these wet, uncomfortable clothes. Even her undergarments were soaked. She went over to the bed, pushing back the gauzy curtain surrounding it. She pulled back the covers, wondering where her father had found this monstrosity. The bed was big enough for six people to sleep comfortably in. She pulled off one of the top sheets and turned back to Obi-Wan. He had finished with the fire. She walked over to the fireplace and, the sheet bunched under her arm, held her hands to it.
"Feels nice," she said.
Obi-Wan rose next to her as he also held his hands before the fire.
"It would feel even nicer if you were to get out of those wet clothes."
Onara tilted her head up at him. "You seem most intent, Master Jedi, on getting me out of my clothes."
"Only because I don't want your father or grandmother blaming me if you come down with pneumonia."
"Grandmother!" Onara gasped.
She looked down at her dress. Not only was it wet, there were grass stains on it and, she also saw, it was ripped near the bottom where the valkon's claws had torn through it. She looked at Obi-Wan. His tunic, though most of the blood had been washed away by the rain, still had had some splatters of blood on it, along with grass stains and smears of mud.
"She's going to know we went outside, Obi-Wan. She'll be furious."
Obi-Wan shrugged. "That's the least of my concerns. Now, are you going to get out of those wet clothes or shall I have to do the honors?"
Onara stepped away, clutching the balled-up sheet in front of her like a shield.
"You'll do no such thing," she said fiercely. She stared hard at Obi-Wan as he continued to gaze back at her. "Well, are you going to turn around or what?"
Obi-Wan sighed. He moved away from the fireplace and went over to stand in front of the window, his arms crossed over his chest, his back to the room.
"Is this better?" he asked her.
"Yes," Onara replied as she quickly unfastened her dress and stepped out of it.
"And don't you dare turn around until I'm done," she went on as she took off her undergarments.
She heard Obi-Wan laugh softly. Onara quickly dried herself off with the towel. She was about to wrap the sheet around her, but something about the way Obi-Wan had laughed made her stop. She looked over to where he was still standing facing the window and saw what he had been laughing about.
He was looking at her reflection in the window's glass! Onara's eyes widened. He could see everything! She hastily wrapped the sheet about her body. Then she reached over, snatched a wine goblet from off the table and flung it at the back of his head.
Obi-Wan quickly turned, faster than Onara thought anyone could move, and neatly caught the goblet. He grinned as he tossed it in his hand.
"Really, Onara," he said as he walked over to her, placing the goblet back on the table. "Don't you know goblets are made for drinking, not for tossing."
"Oh! You...you...horrible man! Why didn't you say something?"
Obi-Wan walked over until he was standing right in front of her. He gazed down at her, his blue-gray eyes warm and deep in the firelight.
"And spoil that lovely vision," he murmured.
Onara shivered at his words, but the idea he had watched her undress and not said a word infuriated her. She turned away from him. However, she discovered that walking wrapped in a bedsheet required a bit more dexterity than she had imagined. She stumbled slightly, her feet tangling in the sheet. Obi-Wan grabbed her arm to steady her, but she angrily shook him off.
"Let go of me!" she cried.
She made her way over to the chair and, checking to make sure the sheet was wrapped securely about her body, sat in it. She then scooted the chair around until she was facing the fire.
She heard Obi-Wan walk up behind her. "I'm sorry, Onara. I shouldn't have spied on you like that."
"I would think a Jedi Knight," Onara fumed, "would not stoop so low as to watch a lady undress when she has specifically stated she did not want to be watched. And if, by chance, he were to see her as she undressed, he would at least have the decency to say something."
"You're right, Onara. Please forgive me. It's just that when I saw you, I was suddenly struck dumb and found myself unable to speak. Your loveliness made speech impossible."
Onara snorted softly as she gazed into the fire. What a smooth talker he was. The Jedi were renowned throughout the galaxy for their negotiating skills. That certainly involved a lot of smooth talking.
"And know this," Obi-Wan went on, his voice low and warm. "Although I am a Jedi, I'm not impervious to beauty."
Onara rolled her eyes and kept her gaze fastened on the fire.
"And you did order me not to turn around until you were done," Obi-Wan added.
Onara slowly turned from the fire and glared up at Obi-Wan. Just as she suspected he was smiling at her.
"Oh, so now it's my fault you spied on me. Humph!"
She angrily crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to the fire.
"Again, please forgive my indiscretion," Obi-Wan said. "Now, why don't you get into bed?"
She looked back up at him, her eyes narrowing. "And do what, may I ask?"
He frowned. "And get some rest," he replied as he went over and picked her wet clothes off the floor. "What else did you think I meant?"
"What are you doing with my clothes?"
She blushed as she watched him pick up her undergarments.
Obi-Wan draped them over his arm. "I'm going to hang these somewhere so they'll dry."
"I could have done that," Onara said.
"But you didn't, did you?"
"Are you calling me a slob, Master Obi-Wan?"
"No, but it's apparent you're used to having people pick up after you."
Onara gasped, her eyes widening. "Now you're saying I'm spoiled!"
"Onara," Obi-Wan said calmly. "I am not saying anything about you. I am merely making observations. It is you who are labeling yourself so. Perhaps that is how you see yourself."
"Oh, you!" Onara cried as she searched around for something to throw at him.
Obi-Wan shook his head and laughed. "If it will make you feel any better and, hopefully, calm you down, you can watch me undress. Then we will be even."
Onara's mouth dropped open at his words, her heart thudding in her chest.
"I most certainly will not watch you undress, Master Kenobi!" she cried. "What do you take me for?"
She whipped her head away from him and looked hard into the orange-red flames of the fire.
"All right. I'll dry myself off in the 'fresher. Which you could have done if you had really not wanted me to see you," he added with a teasing laugh. "And I'll hang your clothes up in there too."
Onara said nothing, but she did blush at the idea that he thought she had wanted him to spy on her. She frowned. She most certainly had not wanted him to see her naked and was about to tell him so but, instead, she kept her eyes focused on the fire.
When she heard the 'fresher door slide shut behind her, she released a deep breath and put her hand on her cheek. Obi-Wan was confusing her and she did not like being confused. One minute it felt as if he was going to kiss her. The next, as if it were the last thing on his mind. However, he had kissed her in the rain. Onara scowled. But only on the forehead. Then she smiled. But he had whispered those words in her ear. She shivered. How deliciously improper they had sounded, especially in his rich, warm voice. No one had ever said anything like that to her. Then she frowned. But, he'd also said he hadn't meant them. Or had he?
Onara twisted the edge of the sheet around her fingers. Well, she mused, he had said she was beautiful, and that was why he had spied on her in the window. Onara suddenly wished there was a mirror in the chamber. There was one in the 'fresher but she certainly wasn't going in there while he was in it. She just wanted to look at her reflection for she had never thought of herself as beautiful. Her father said she was, but all fathers said that about their daughters. Grandmother never commented on her looks one way or the other. She had always found other things to nag and pester Onara about.
Onara was tempted to go over to the window and look at herself, but that reminded her of Obi-Wan's spying. She gritted her teeth. Then she again recalled what he had said. That even though he was a Jedi, he found her beautiful. She sighed. She was so confused. She wished her aunts were here. They knew a lot about men. More than she did. Onara had learned much at the Cloister; history, science, philosophy, literature. But one thing she hadn't learned about was men. Especially Jedi men.
However, before Onara could dwell on her thoughts further she heard the 'fresher door open. She deliberately kept her face turned towards the fire. She heard Obi-Wan walking about the chamber. Then she felt something soft on her shoulder. She looked over. It was a honeyrose. Obi-Wan had plucked one from one of the vases scattered about the room. He was stroking her bare shoulder with it. She looked up at him.
"Do you forgive me for spying on you?" he asked, his eyes soft on her.
Onara was about to answer when she saw Obi-Wan was wearing only a large towel which was wrapped low around his hips. Her gaze traveled slowly over his body. She had seen men's bodies before, of course, but never in quite this context; alone in a room bathed with both candle and firelight, the scent of flowers heavy in the air, a storm raging outside and, nearby, a huge, soft, warm bed. A bed in which she was supposed to lose her virginity.
She swallowed heavily as she continued to stare at Obi-Wan's lean, muscular body. And the way he had the towel wrapped around him, it revealed just enough of his hips and the upper part of his pelvis that her thoughts could not help but wonder as to what lay beneath it.
"Well? Do you?" Obi-Wan asked.
Onara started and quickly drew her gaze from his body. She looked up at him, reached over and took the honeyrose. She held it to her nose as she breathed in its sweet, musky scent.
"Yes, I forgive you. For now," she added.
"Good," Obi-Wan said as he moved past her and sat on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Onara kept an eye on that towel, but he had tied it in such a way she doubted it would accidentally slip off. She then looked at his arm.
"Obi-Wan, you've been hurt!" she gasped.
He turned and looked over at her. "What?"
She pointed at the scratches on his lower right arm. "Didn't you know?"
Obi-Wan turned his arm as he examined it. He shrugged and looked back at the fire.
"I've been hurt worse," he said nonchalantly.
"But, those scratches must be treated. You could get an infection."
Onara rose from the chair, careful not to trip in the sheet. She hunted around the vases of flowers until she found what she was looking for. It wasn't a flower, more like a weed actually, but it was often included in bouquets to add some color. Its leaves were a dark red color, but it wasn't the leaves Onara was interested in. She went back to Obi-Wan and knelt next to him, making sure the sheet was wrapped securely around her body.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Mother's Milk."
"Mother's Milk?"
Onara nodded as she broke the stem of the plant. A white liquid oozed out of the broken end.
"The sap has healing properties. Now, be still."
Onara moved the end of the stem along the cuts on Obi-Wan's arm. Once she had enough sap on them, she gently massaged the fluid into the cuts. She tried not to let herself dwell on how smooth and warm his skin felt under her fingers. Once she was done, she moved away, but remained sitting on the floor. Obi-Wan inclined his head to her, giving her small smile.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The two sat in silence for a bit, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Onara looked at her fingers, the tips of which were still tingling from her having touched his skin. She looked over at him. He was still staring into the fire.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Hmmm?"
"A decicred for your thoughts."
Obi-Wan chuckled and the sound lightened Onara's heart. He turned and looked at her.
"I was just thinking of the report I will have to write regarding my mission here. And whether I should mention the blessing ceremony."
Onara smiled. "Well, if your reports are anything like the reports the managers of my father's estates must file every month, I would imagine you're not allowed to leave out a single iota of information."
Obi-Wan smiled and nodded. "I am not."
"So, what will you say?" she asked, inching closer to him.
Obi-Wan tilted his head. "I'm not sure. I was never as good as Qui-Gon at writing mission reports. He was notorious for doing things which would have been frowned upon by the Jedi Council, but when he wrote them up in his reports, they always sounded terribly innocuous."
"Qui-Gon? Who is he?"
"Was," Obi-Wan said, his eyes darkening. "He's dead."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan. Was he a friend?"
"Yes, and more. He was my master."
"Your master? You mean, in the way you are master to Anakin."
Obi-Wan nodded. "He was killed on a mission. Years ago."
Onara heard the pain and sorrow in his voice. She reached over and put her hand over his.
"You miss him, don't you?" she said softly.
"Very much so. There isn't a day that goes by I don't wish he were still alive."
Obi-Wan then turned his hand up so he could clasp hers with it. She took this as a sign and moved closer until she was sitting next to him, her bare shoulder touching his.
"What was he like? If you don't mind talking about him," she quickly added.
Onara suddenly wanted to know everything about Obi-Wan and those who had been important to him.
"No, I don't mind."
He squeezed her hand, but gazed over at the fire as he spoke.
"He was strong, wise and good." Then Obi-Wan laughed softly and looked over at her. "We didn't always see eye to eye on things, but I could not have asked for a better master. I was honored to have been chosen by him."
"So, you're chosen by another Jedi to be their apprentice?"
"Yes. When an initiate reaches the age of thirteen he or she is chosen, either by a Knight or a Master, to be that Jedi's Padawan."
"And what happens before you turn thirteen?"
"All Jedi children live in the Temple. They are divided into ten different clans. Master Yoda instructs all the clans."
"Master Yoda? Who is he? You mentioned him before."
"He is the wisest and strongest of all the Jedi. He's nearly 800 years old. And no taller than the children he trains."
"Really? How old were you when you started your training?"
"I was brought to the Temple as a baby. Candidates come to the Temple when they're between the ages of six months and five years old."
Onara's eyes widened. "You take children away from their families?" she gasped.
Obi-Wan frowned at her. "We don't take them, Onara. We offer to train them. If their families give us permission, then we take them to the Temple."
Onara shook her head. "I don't think I could ever give up a child of mine. Even to become a Jedi." She shrugged. "But, I won't have to worry about making such a decision. I will never have a Force sensitive baby." She grimaced. "Edress is far from being Force sensitive. Actually, I don't think he's sensitive about anything. Except money and power."
Then Onara shuddered at the thought of having to bear Edress children and what she would have to endure from him to do so. Obi-Wan reached over and stroked her cheek.
"Don't think of him, Onara," he said softly, his eyes gazing deep into hers. "He's not here now. But I am." "
To be continued...