Hello people! Hope you had a nice Halloween. Here's another chapter, I must
say that the rhythm of my posting might slow down given that I'm getting
busy with university:) I'm taking off the Erratum and will correct the
first chapters when I have some spare time. Tell me if you liked or
detested that chapter, it's a bit long, hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless.
~~~. ~~~ first person narrative, they are always direct fragments of the memoir Abigail found in the first chapter. Ps : If you really can't stand the typology of the site, just mail me and I'll send you the Word version which is more comfortable to read. :)
*****
The rest of the way down to the hangar had happened in wispy haze for Noor. She barely registered the blasters shooting in their direction as they rushed toward one of the space shuttles.
Kenobi was planning and reacting for her, shielding them behind his saber and urging her to keep going. She snapped out of her stupor when she heard him gasp and slowed down to check on him, but he pushed her forward, a hand clutched to his side.
:: Later,:: he said.
The Jedi managed a rather spectacular and in Noor's opinion, miraculous take off from the ship. Strapped in a seat in the cockpit, she sensed nervousness gaining on her, as he worked frantically on losing the fighter starships chasing them.
It was upon her again. she felt it coming; there was nothing she could do to stop it. The tremors of an obscure tension sent shivers coursing over her skin, a great chilling sensation seized her as her temperature started to rise. She moved slowly, caught up by the fevers duality: although her skin felt frozen to the touch, she was burning up. She unfastened her belt under Kenobi's bewildered glance and walked to the cabin in the back.
Noor lowered herself on the couch, saving her energy for the exhausting battle she knew was coming: her own body shaken by the first waves of the crisis. She had to face it alone. Once more.
An intense pain crawled up her back and crashed through her whole body, tearing a raspy gasp from her. The whole process was getting under way, the nightmare was about to begin. When another sharp spasm hit her, she reflexively curled into a ball. If she reduced the impact surface of the pain, maybe it would hurt a little less-
She closed her eyes tightly and clutched the couch, focusing on her breathing, in and out, over and over again. The column of air she raggedly drew into her lungs was her only link with life and sanity.
She kept as still as she could, not letting panic win over the control she fought to keep on her soul. She knew she couldn't give in to the shadows of her mind, fear, anger, angst-- she was trying but why did it have to hurt so much? Why did she feel so alien in that jarring body? The pain was maddening, she felt she was losing her grip on reality-- she was so cold.
Would nothingness bring her some release?
What if she let go?
What if she simply surrendered to the drowsiness pulsating along the spasms?
The repeated assaults of pain were numbing her will. She knew it, but her force was declining. How long was it going to last?
Suddenly, something interfered within her, an energy buzzing inquisitively inside. An anxiousness she did not recognize as her own dragged her out of her torpor-- but the fever showed no sign of receding. Once more the pain charged viciously and vibrated sourly in her bones. She was too spent to scream.
Noor barely registered the voice in her head that frantically called her back. Kenobi was here yet she could not situate him precisely. As he tried to reach out for her through the link, something reared up in her. She fiercely blocked him out; he wouldn't see her so devastated, ever. She knew she had to protect him from that. As he slowly sank down at the other end of the couch, her bare feet came to rest against his left thigh. He did not pull away: he just sat there, bewildered and powerless to help her fighting back the fever raging within her .
The contact she had with his flesh through the uniform fabric was the only source of heat in her frozen world. She focused on it with all her might, letting it filter through her defenses with the soothing vibration of his voice whispering in her mind.
Little by little, the storm in her body abated, the pain slowly faded before finally retreating completely. An unexpected relief washed over her tightly clenched muscles with the calm certitude that he would help her to bear that load.
And then came silence, not a sound, not an image, not a tremble.
Only an immense peaceful emptiness.
She dimly registered a warm hand on her brow. Losing the track of time, she welcomed the void and slipped into oblivion.
~*~
~~~Blurry spots of colors--
I felt myself slide back up to the surface.
I stirred from my dead sleep.
I did not dream, it is strange--I always dream after the fevers.
I see glimpses of the harsh tawny fullness of the dunes in the sun, the abrupt slope in the shadows on the other side
- and the space--
So wide that only the unsubstantial immensity of the wind seems to fill it.
There are also patches of Irish green; an ever-moody grayish sea. In those dreams, I can almost taste the dusty sweetness of my native country raindrops.
Curiously, I can see those colors right now floating above me, the blue, the gray. Or is it more like gold and green?
I dream of dear images of long-gone faces. I remember now that, today, another one had joined them, but for a few more precious minutes, I won't feel the ache crushing my heart--
The release after the pain often brings me close to another world, hidden and secret. It seems that all I have to do is to stretch out my hand to be part of it. I am always so close to them. Yet never close enough.
I see the future sometimes, elusive things that haven't yet come to pass. This time the recurrent visions of spilled blood and violence did not taint my mind.
How long have I been lying down like this? I have no idea, my sight is still troubled and my surroundings unreal. But the two drops of a bright changeable color piercing through the mist of my waking up are comforting. I find their depth attractive.
I am not cold anymore for I am wrapped in a protective warmth. It is strong yet somewhat softened and safe. I try to raise my arm to feel its source but my muscles vehemently protest.
I wince and my vision clears.
I discover that he spots of color are a set of eyes wavering between concern and relief. I smile into them with all the serenity I am harboring now. They are truly beautiful.
My body feels weightless, as it did when I use to plunge under water as a child and let the swell carry me away. All I want is to immerse myself completely in this scented warmth.
I shift slightly and my position is adjusted. I listen to his calm breathing under my cheek and hear myself heaving a small contented sigh.
I bury my face further into the snug heat and drift off again.~~~
~*~
~~~She had pushed me away.
There I was with all my years of training and experience, me, the Jedi master, standing there like a useless idiot. Can somebody give me a clue as how to handle that infuriatingly stubborn woman?!
But my body knew--
What a surprising, simple thing to see how naturally my arms stretched to gather her carefully, how my shoulder curved to accommodate her still form and give her my warmth.
I felt my eyes widen slightly--
I held my breath, I didn't dare to move anymore, Noor is sleeping against me--and it is--oddly right.
My mind is screaming all kinds of warnings to me.
I have to untangle myself from both this girl and this situation. She belongs to another world. How many times have I repeated it to myself like a mantra over the years?
Once gone, she is back now, all grown up, with that unwavering wild personality, but for the moment she is all fragility nestled in my arms.
Pull yourself together man! Look at her, she is nothing but trouble, she is just as unruly as Anakin. ~~~
He sighed. Why did he always end up with the most rebellious elements among the Order? First Qui-Gon Jinn, then his padawan and finally this Alrahan brat. Dealing with the 'chosen ones' was really not a job.
"What an absurd situation," he murmured, mechanically brushing away a lock of her hair. He watched her tiny exhausted face, she was pale under her tan and her skin was cold.
"Another pathetic life form," he thought, giving a forced mental snort. He pushed away the memory of her silent scream when Gabrielle had been executed, how it had echoed on and on inside of him, immense and inhuman. How she had struggled against him blinded by rage and pain. He attempted to quell the image of her clenched body, her fists gripping the material of the couch to control the shivers. Alone.
He tried but he couldn't.
He had been stern with her, even harsh. The truth was that she reminded him so much of himself when he was younger. The same passion, the same recklessness and defiant attitude. And what had it brought to him? Misery, solitude, rejection. Until his master came along. Watching her was like watching himself doing the same mistakes than in the past. He suddenly felt very poor, his life was devoted unconditionally to the Jedi what did he have left to offer her? Compassion? Discipline? No, Noor was very different from him at the same time, fascinatingly different--
Kenobi fiercely shook off those uncalled thoughts forming in his mind. The Jedi were working for a greater good far beyond their own lives, far beyond the risks it represented and that was all that mattered.
He started to whisper his bare thoughts aloud without logic or eloquence, bending his head towards her.
"So, you have weaknesses after all? You who always seem out of reach. I wonder where you go when you suddenly look to be a thousand miles away from here. You are so determined to stand up against me. When are you going to listen to me, my headstrong padawan?"
He caught a flutter of her eyelids, her eyes opened slowly, unfocused. Her expression grew from confused to dazedly relaxed. She wasn't fully awake.
Two impossibly large gray pools were gazing up at him with a look of contemplative wonder. She gave him a warm sleepy smile which did strange things to his stomach and moved slightly, trying to find her way through his robes closer to his body heat. He couldn't help but smile.
Kenobi tightened his arms around Noor and cautiously guided her head in that strong tender spot in the hollow of his shoulder. He closed his eyes and for the first time, allowed himself to feel what it would be like to be no more than a man, nameless and faceless in a countless crowd. Just be the one who holds a woman in his arms and marvels at the simple joy of it before falling asleep. Her steady breathing against his neck soon lulled him into a short dreamless rest.
~*~
Noor awoke from her heavy slumber for the second time, frowning when she found that the warmth around her was different. Impersonal.
She became vaguely aware that she was being watched. Her eyes came into focus right into Kenobi's. She realized that she was now lying on a cot and that the General, wrapped in his Jedi cloak, was kneeling at her side, his chin resting upon his arms folded in front of him on the mattress.
"What was that?" His voice was coarse from disuse.
His usually golden complexion was ashen, his features were strained and Noor could tell by the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't gotten much sleep. He hadn't said a word but he was mourning the lives wasted away, just like her.
"I am so sorry--about everything." She finished in a whisper as her voice cracked. Lifting his head, he made a soft denying sound as the back of his hand made contact with her arm sending soothing waves through her. There was nothing to worry about.
Noor looked away, feeling the urge to talk. About anything.
"Those crises started a year ago, when I was traveling from Palestine to Libya. I can't explain what happened, but one day I found myself lying on the floor shivering despite of the desert heat. They come and go without precise cause or pattern. I spent a month in a specialized hospital; nobody could tell what it was. What is sure is that during those crisis I, I see things--"
"Things? What things?" His voice suddenly seemed to come from afar as a succession of bloodcurdling images veiled her gaze. She turned to him, fear creeping through her body. He sensed it. His fingers clasped her arm gently and he whispered her name to calm her down.
"Images from the past and some about the future.I'm not sure they aren't mine, they flash alternatively in my mind and mingle."
"What did you just see?"
"I think I saw how the Weapon will destroy a planet. I feel their pain. Oh, it was so real, it will happen." She squeezed her eyes shut, missing the shadow passing on Kenobi's face.
"Would you trust me with what has been weighing on your mind?"
The young woman opened her eyes and nodded. She watched him rise and move to sit down on the edge of the narrow bed. She inched away to accommodate him.
"Show me."
She lifted her arm to establish a connection, but her trembling muscles failed her. Without a sound, the Jedi lowered her hand and coaxing her to roll on her side, he lay down facing her, mindful of his injury. He adjusted his wide cloak so it covered them both. Although there wasn't any contact between their bodies, his sudden closeness, the scent of his skin, his weigh curving the mattress at her side were a bit overwhelming. She hesitantly reached out, touched her fingertips to his temple and poured her nightmare into him.
Her voice rose unexpectedly in the small cabin, cold, strangely detached.
"There's a hope still. A boy."
'Anakin?' wondered Kenobi.
"No. He hasn't been born yet. You will show him the path."
Her breathing pattern quickened.
"Another battle will be fought after many of them. The moon--There is a weakness in the system! But there will not end the fight against the dark side, the Force is still unbalanced with anger, with revenge--"
Her hand left the side of his head and flew to hers as the pain exploded inside.
She started to whisper incoherently, rocking back and forth.
" Look at me, Noor, open your eyes!"
She heard him faintly through the vibrations of pain, then again the temptation to let go.she thought she heard a whisper, not Kenobi, somebody else--no SOMETHING else. Terror was sending shivers along her form. God, what was that? A strange presence grazed her mind, something she couldn't identify. Her breath became erratic as panic threatened to overcome her. The whispering carried on unhurriedly. She was trapped! Her mouth opened, gasping for air.
Kenobi grabbed her hands and pulled them to her side and replaced them with his own, summoning the Force around him. He had to shake her from her trance. Her skin was turning cold again, her muscles were rock hard. He quashed his rising dread and drew her to him, enclosing her in his good warmth, in the scent of him, anything that could bring her back, anything she needed he would give. Casting aside the pain growing in his side, he kept murmuring to her, almost chanting:
" Stay with me, don't let the shadows speak to you. Come on, my nerve wrecker, open your eyes, let me see those grey eyes of yours."
The Force was flowing from him, encircling her. She gradually relaxed in his tight embrace and finally opened her eyes. She felt the wild beating of his heart against hers, their chests molded together. A pale smile came to her as she thought idly that it was difficult to tell where he started and where she ended. Being so close to Obi-wan Kenobi felt like being melted in his energy, feeling alive, and cared for--
Unwanted tears welled up, burning her eyes. Annoyed but too tired to do anything about it, she let her head drop against Obi-Wan's shoulder and allowed it to flow noiselessly.
Obi-Wan?
Yes, she instinctively knew that at this moment, disheveled and weary with his hand buried in her hair, he was definitely Obi-Wan.
The salted stream had long dried on her cheeks yet she did not stir, soaking in the protective comfort of his arms. The smooth, hard muscles under her hands were real and sure. He moved first, resting his forehead against hers.
"Don't. Do. That. Again." He enunciated the words gruffly. She shook her head obediently and just lay there, sensing herself sinking in his gaze.
She closed her eyes when she felt him nuzzling her cheek. His fingers slowly trailed along her jaw line. She almost gasped when she felt the warm moisture of his lips brushing her chin in a faint caress. Her head unconsciously fell back to grant him more access. She felt his breath tracing her neck, her collarbone. Not touching, just hovering, learning her.
She already knew his warmth but the heat he was creating now was totally different. It was deeper, wilder. Unknown too. No Jedi there. No comfort. No measured talking. Just his hands on her. Just a raw need.
And an unexpected tenderness. For him.
He abruptly wrenched himself from her. A shift of the mattress, he was up and out the room, leaving Noor in a stunned languid haze.
And he had barely touched her--
*****
~~~. ~~~ first person narrative, they are always direct fragments of the memoir Abigail found in the first chapter. Ps : If you really can't stand the typology of the site, just mail me and I'll send you the Word version which is more comfortable to read. :)
*****
The rest of the way down to the hangar had happened in wispy haze for Noor. She barely registered the blasters shooting in their direction as they rushed toward one of the space shuttles.
Kenobi was planning and reacting for her, shielding them behind his saber and urging her to keep going. She snapped out of her stupor when she heard him gasp and slowed down to check on him, but he pushed her forward, a hand clutched to his side.
:: Later,:: he said.
The Jedi managed a rather spectacular and in Noor's opinion, miraculous take off from the ship. Strapped in a seat in the cockpit, she sensed nervousness gaining on her, as he worked frantically on losing the fighter starships chasing them.
It was upon her again. she felt it coming; there was nothing she could do to stop it. The tremors of an obscure tension sent shivers coursing over her skin, a great chilling sensation seized her as her temperature started to rise. She moved slowly, caught up by the fevers duality: although her skin felt frozen to the touch, she was burning up. She unfastened her belt under Kenobi's bewildered glance and walked to the cabin in the back.
Noor lowered herself on the couch, saving her energy for the exhausting battle she knew was coming: her own body shaken by the first waves of the crisis. She had to face it alone. Once more.
An intense pain crawled up her back and crashed through her whole body, tearing a raspy gasp from her. The whole process was getting under way, the nightmare was about to begin. When another sharp spasm hit her, she reflexively curled into a ball. If she reduced the impact surface of the pain, maybe it would hurt a little less-
She closed her eyes tightly and clutched the couch, focusing on her breathing, in and out, over and over again. The column of air she raggedly drew into her lungs was her only link with life and sanity.
She kept as still as she could, not letting panic win over the control she fought to keep on her soul. She knew she couldn't give in to the shadows of her mind, fear, anger, angst-- she was trying but why did it have to hurt so much? Why did she feel so alien in that jarring body? The pain was maddening, she felt she was losing her grip on reality-- she was so cold.
Would nothingness bring her some release?
What if she let go?
What if she simply surrendered to the drowsiness pulsating along the spasms?
The repeated assaults of pain were numbing her will. She knew it, but her force was declining. How long was it going to last?
Suddenly, something interfered within her, an energy buzzing inquisitively inside. An anxiousness she did not recognize as her own dragged her out of her torpor-- but the fever showed no sign of receding. Once more the pain charged viciously and vibrated sourly in her bones. She was too spent to scream.
Noor barely registered the voice in her head that frantically called her back. Kenobi was here yet she could not situate him precisely. As he tried to reach out for her through the link, something reared up in her. She fiercely blocked him out; he wouldn't see her so devastated, ever. She knew she had to protect him from that. As he slowly sank down at the other end of the couch, her bare feet came to rest against his left thigh. He did not pull away: he just sat there, bewildered and powerless to help her fighting back the fever raging within her .
The contact she had with his flesh through the uniform fabric was the only source of heat in her frozen world. She focused on it with all her might, letting it filter through her defenses with the soothing vibration of his voice whispering in her mind.
Little by little, the storm in her body abated, the pain slowly faded before finally retreating completely. An unexpected relief washed over her tightly clenched muscles with the calm certitude that he would help her to bear that load.
And then came silence, not a sound, not an image, not a tremble.
Only an immense peaceful emptiness.
She dimly registered a warm hand on her brow. Losing the track of time, she welcomed the void and slipped into oblivion.
~*~
~~~Blurry spots of colors--
I felt myself slide back up to the surface.
I stirred from my dead sleep.
I did not dream, it is strange--I always dream after the fevers.
I see glimpses of the harsh tawny fullness of the dunes in the sun, the abrupt slope in the shadows on the other side
- and the space--
So wide that only the unsubstantial immensity of the wind seems to fill it.
There are also patches of Irish green; an ever-moody grayish sea. In those dreams, I can almost taste the dusty sweetness of my native country raindrops.
Curiously, I can see those colors right now floating above me, the blue, the gray. Or is it more like gold and green?
I dream of dear images of long-gone faces. I remember now that, today, another one had joined them, but for a few more precious minutes, I won't feel the ache crushing my heart--
The release after the pain often brings me close to another world, hidden and secret. It seems that all I have to do is to stretch out my hand to be part of it. I am always so close to them. Yet never close enough.
I see the future sometimes, elusive things that haven't yet come to pass. This time the recurrent visions of spilled blood and violence did not taint my mind.
How long have I been lying down like this? I have no idea, my sight is still troubled and my surroundings unreal. But the two drops of a bright changeable color piercing through the mist of my waking up are comforting. I find their depth attractive.
I am not cold anymore for I am wrapped in a protective warmth. It is strong yet somewhat softened and safe. I try to raise my arm to feel its source but my muscles vehemently protest.
I wince and my vision clears.
I discover that he spots of color are a set of eyes wavering between concern and relief. I smile into them with all the serenity I am harboring now. They are truly beautiful.
My body feels weightless, as it did when I use to plunge under water as a child and let the swell carry me away. All I want is to immerse myself completely in this scented warmth.
I shift slightly and my position is adjusted. I listen to his calm breathing under my cheek and hear myself heaving a small contented sigh.
I bury my face further into the snug heat and drift off again.~~~
~*~
~~~She had pushed me away.
There I was with all my years of training and experience, me, the Jedi master, standing there like a useless idiot. Can somebody give me a clue as how to handle that infuriatingly stubborn woman?!
But my body knew--
What a surprising, simple thing to see how naturally my arms stretched to gather her carefully, how my shoulder curved to accommodate her still form and give her my warmth.
I felt my eyes widen slightly--
I held my breath, I didn't dare to move anymore, Noor is sleeping against me--and it is--oddly right.
My mind is screaming all kinds of warnings to me.
I have to untangle myself from both this girl and this situation. She belongs to another world. How many times have I repeated it to myself like a mantra over the years?
Once gone, she is back now, all grown up, with that unwavering wild personality, but for the moment she is all fragility nestled in my arms.
Pull yourself together man! Look at her, she is nothing but trouble, she is just as unruly as Anakin. ~~~
He sighed. Why did he always end up with the most rebellious elements among the Order? First Qui-Gon Jinn, then his padawan and finally this Alrahan brat. Dealing with the 'chosen ones' was really not a job.
"What an absurd situation," he murmured, mechanically brushing away a lock of her hair. He watched her tiny exhausted face, she was pale under her tan and her skin was cold.
"Another pathetic life form," he thought, giving a forced mental snort. He pushed away the memory of her silent scream when Gabrielle had been executed, how it had echoed on and on inside of him, immense and inhuman. How she had struggled against him blinded by rage and pain. He attempted to quell the image of her clenched body, her fists gripping the material of the couch to control the shivers. Alone.
He tried but he couldn't.
He had been stern with her, even harsh. The truth was that she reminded him so much of himself when he was younger. The same passion, the same recklessness and defiant attitude. And what had it brought to him? Misery, solitude, rejection. Until his master came along. Watching her was like watching himself doing the same mistakes than in the past. He suddenly felt very poor, his life was devoted unconditionally to the Jedi what did he have left to offer her? Compassion? Discipline? No, Noor was very different from him at the same time, fascinatingly different--
Kenobi fiercely shook off those uncalled thoughts forming in his mind. The Jedi were working for a greater good far beyond their own lives, far beyond the risks it represented and that was all that mattered.
He started to whisper his bare thoughts aloud without logic or eloquence, bending his head towards her.
"So, you have weaknesses after all? You who always seem out of reach. I wonder where you go when you suddenly look to be a thousand miles away from here. You are so determined to stand up against me. When are you going to listen to me, my headstrong padawan?"
He caught a flutter of her eyelids, her eyes opened slowly, unfocused. Her expression grew from confused to dazedly relaxed. She wasn't fully awake.
Two impossibly large gray pools were gazing up at him with a look of contemplative wonder. She gave him a warm sleepy smile which did strange things to his stomach and moved slightly, trying to find her way through his robes closer to his body heat. He couldn't help but smile.
Kenobi tightened his arms around Noor and cautiously guided her head in that strong tender spot in the hollow of his shoulder. He closed his eyes and for the first time, allowed himself to feel what it would be like to be no more than a man, nameless and faceless in a countless crowd. Just be the one who holds a woman in his arms and marvels at the simple joy of it before falling asleep. Her steady breathing against his neck soon lulled him into a short dreamless rest.
~*~
Noor awoke from her heavy slumber for the second time, frowning when she found that the warmth around her was different. Impersonal.
She became vaguely aware that she was being watched. Her eyes came into focus right into Kenobi's. She realized that she was now lying on a cot and that the General, wrapped in his Jedi cloak, was kneeling at her side, his chin resting upon his arms folded in front of him on the mattress.
"What was that?" His voice was coarse from disuse.
His usually golden complexion was ashen, his features were strained and Noor could tell by the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't gotten much sleep. He hadn't said a word but he was mourning the lives wasted away, just like her.
"I am so sorry--about everything." She finished in a whisper as her voice cracked. Lifting his head, he made a soft denying sound as the back of his hand made contact with her arm sending soothing waves through her. There was nothing to worry about.
Noor looked away, feeling the urge to talk. About anything.
"Those crises started a year ago, when I was traveling from Palestine to Libya. I can't explain what happened, but one day I found myself lying on the floor shivering despite of the desert heat. They come and go without precise cause or pattern. I spent a month in a specialized hospital; nobody could tell what it was. What is sure is that during those crisis I, I see things--"
"Things? What things?" His voice suddenly seemed to come from afar as a succession of bloodcurdling images veiled her gaze. She turned to him, fear creeping through her body. He sensed it. His fingers clasped her arm gently and he whispered her name to calm her down.
"Images from the past and some about the future.I'm not sure they aren't mine, they flash alternatively in my mind and mingle."
"What did you just see?"
"I think I saw how the Weapon will destroy a planet. I feel their pain. Oh, it was so real, it will happen." She squeezed her eyes shut, missing the shadow passing on Kenobi's face.
"Would you trust me with what has been weighing on your mind?"
The young woman opened her eyes and nodded. She watched him rise and move to sit down on the edge of the narrow bed. She inched away to accommodate him.
"Show me."
She lifted her arm to establish a connection, but her trembling muscles failed her. Without a sound, the Jedi lowered her hand and coaxing her to roll on her side, he lay down facing her, mindful of his injury. He adjusted his wide cloak so it covered them both. Although there wasn't any contact between their bodies, his sudden closeness, the scent of his skin, his weigh curving the mattress at her side were a bit overwhelming. She hesitantly reached out, touched her fingertips to his temple and poured her nightmare into him.
Her voice rose unexpectedly in the small cabin, cold, strangely detached.
"There's a hope still. A boy."
'Anakin?' wondered Kenobi.
"No. He hasn't been born yet. You will show him the path."
Her breathing pattern quickened.
"Another battle will be fought after many of them. The moon--There is a weakness in the system! But there will not end the fight against the dark side, the Force is still unbalanced with anger, with revenge--"
Her hand left the side of his head and flew to hers as the pain exploded inside.
She started to whisper incoherently, rocking back and forth.
" Look at me, Noor, open your eyes!"
She heard him faintly through the vibrations of pain, then again the temptation to let go.she thought she heard a whisper, not Kenobi, somebody else--no SOMETHING else. Terror was sending shivers along her form. God, what was that? A strange presence grazed her mind, something she couldn't identify. Her breath became erratic as panic threatened to overcome her. The whispering carried on unhurriedly. She was trapped! Her mouth opened, gasping for air.
Kenobi grabbed her hands and pulled them to her side and replaced them with his own, summoning the Force around him. He had to shake her from her trance. Her skin was turning cold again, her muscles were rock hard. He quashed his rising dread and drew her to him, enclosing her in his good warmth, in the scent of him, anything that could bring her back, anything she needed he would give. Casting aside the pain growing in his side, he kept murmuring to her, almost chanting:
" Stay with me, don't let the shadows speak to you. Come on, my nerve wrecker, open your eyes, let me see those grey eyes of yours."
The Force was flowing from him, encircling her. She gradually relaxed in his tight embrace and finally opened her eyes. She felt the wild beating of his heart against hers, their chests molded together. A pale smile came to her as she thought idly that it was difficult to tell where he started and where she ended. Being so close to Obi-wan Kenobi felt like being melted in his energy, feeling alive, and cared for--
Unwanted tears welled up, burning her eyes. Annoyed but too tired to do anything about it, she let her head drop against Obi-Wan's shoulder and allowed it to flow noiselessly.
Obi-Wan?
Yes, she instinctively knew that at this moment, disheveled and weary with his hand buried in her hair, he was definitely Obi-Wan.
The salted stream had long dried on her cheeks yet she did not stir, soaking in the protective comfort of his arms. The smooth, hard muscles under her hands were real and sure. He moved first, resting his forehead against hers.
"Don't. Do. That. Again." He enunciated the words gruffly. She shook her head obediently and just lay there, sensing herself sinking in his gaze.
She closed her eyes when she felt him nuzzling her cheek. His fingers slowly trailed along her jaw line. She almost gasped when she felt the warm moisture of his lips brushing her chin in a faint caress. Her head unconsciously fell back to grant him more access. She felt his breath tracing her neck, her collarbone. Not touching, just hovering, learning her.
She already knew his warmth but the heat he was creating now was totally different. It was deeper, wilder. Unknown too. No Jedi there. No comfort. No measured talking. Just his hands on her. Just a raw need.
And an unexpected tenderness. For him.
He abruptly wrenched himself from her. A shift of the mattress, he was up and out the room, leaving Noor in a stunned languid haze.
And he had barely touched her--
*****