WARNING: All right, this scene might be rated R for adult situation.
Although it's not too graphic if you're bothered by this kind of stuff,
please skip it and go directly to the next chapter when it will be up,
thanks!
*****
Noor glanced at her watch and grumbled furiously to herself as she strode aimlessly on the shore. It was way past midnight, she literally ached for a nice bed to finally get some rest but here she was, homeless, walking towards the high shadow of the Roman theater. She was an adult, but still, stumbling on--- an intimate moment between her sister and her husband was making her nauseous. She picked up the pace before any visual could form in her mind. Sometimes she loathed being empathic.
She suddenly realized that Kenobi and her had forgotten to plan what they would do about the tomb in the morning.
'That will pass away the time until those two cool off,' she thought, heading back toward the camp. As she neared his tent, she saw the glimmer of the oil lamp filter through the slits of the canvas, indicating that he wasn't asleep yet. She called but as nothing responded, she got in. The main room separated from the sleeping area by a suspended veil was empty. She surveyed the sparse pieces of furniture.
Even absent, something of him was still lingering there. On the table lay a disarray of papers, a data pad, some colored stones he had found during the excavation and a sketchpad. Intrigued, she reached for it and discovered, surprised, this new side of him. She had never known he could draw so well. She browsed through the different sketches. Soon her eyes were full of the pure lines of the sea stretching away to finally fade in the horizon, the imposing verticality of the ruins contrasting with the shadows of the corners which seemed to whisper some ancient secret mingled with the portraits of the people he had met here. She was truly impressed by his ability to capture something beyond the simple resemblance. Something furtive---a flicker of life, a soul--
She chuckled knowingly when she found a picture of her with her unruly hair flowing from her ruined braid as the wind blew behind her, a fierce expression etched on her face. 'I'm glad he sees me as a harpy,' she smiled ironically to cover the fleeting thought that her representation, born under his fingers, looked beautiful. She closed the pad and put it back where she had found it.
Her eyes fell on the blue shirt he had worn during the day draped over the back of a chair. Noor buried her face in the wrinkled fabric and inhaled deeply. As she did so, something dropped from the breast pocket. Noor crouched down to pick it up.
It was a thin plaited lock of hair.
"That's my shirt you have here, woman."
The deep voice made her start guiltily. "You spent way too much time with Garrett," she grumbled, referring to his language.
She looked up and her mouth went dry. Kenobi was standing at the entrance of the tent, bare to the waist, a towel in his hand, observing her intently. The waving flame of the lamp cast specks of gold in his damp tawny hair, enhancing the warm honey tones of his skin darken by the sun. Her eyes followed the fine lines of his well-defined muscles, noted the golden hair dusting his upper chest and trailed down to the tight flat stomach.
He walked to the chair to put down the towel. She had not expected the harmonious fall of his shoulders, the long line of his back smooth like a stone. If he noticed her insistent gaze, he gave no sign of it. He turned towards her, still crouched down at his feet.
"I think I like seeing you from that point of view," he said with a half smile, just to annoy her.
'Likewise, baby,' she thought half ironic, half sincere as she rose promptly.
"I'm sorry, I was--kicked out from my tent. Maeve and Garrett, well--you see."
He nodded, "I do."
Not finding anything to say, she just stood there, ill at ease, fumbling with his shirt.
"I was there," he suddenly said.
She blinked, "What?"
He pointed to the plait in her hand, "During your trials, I was there."
" You mean, it's my padawan braid? But I would have sensed your presence," she countered.
He remained impassive. "Apparently not."
"You came back on purpose? Why?"
He shrugged. "It was your trials, it was important. My master didn't get to see me passing mine and I, well. I wanted to be there for yours."
He busied himself putting some order in the scattered papers. He didn't like to bare his thoughts like that.
A slow smile crept on her lips. Now, that was getting interesting. Could she possibly miss such an opportunity to tease him? Certainly not.
She attacked mercilessly: "Why was it in your shirt?"
"Why were you nosing in my things?" he shot back without turning around.
"I asked first."
"I don't know, it was in my utility belt. Now, what are you doing here?"
"You're eluding the question! Come on, Kenobi I'm the voice of your conscience!"
"The Force preserve me!" he mumbled, the light taunt returning in his voice. " Be careful, Noor, one of those pathetic sentimental moments is looming over us."
"Oh, twist my arm!" she exclaimed dramatically.
Suddenly he turned around and crossed the distance between them. He took the shirt from her hands and tossed it on the floor. Startled, she watched his eyes traveling on her face, memorizing every plane, every shade. Finally their breath mingled, slowly, as if it were the very first time. His long fingers came to frame her face, keeping her mouth firmly fastened to his and he opened up all his being to her, letting the emotions he had locked up inside flow into her mind. She reared up breaking the kiss. She was pale when she looked up at him.
"Obi-Wan--"
He blinked at the mention of his name and lowered his gaze to the ground. "I've never planned on this, believe me. You caught me off guards." He glanced at her. "Is that so repulsive to you?"
The biting derision of his tone did not quite conceal the hurt look in his eyes.
She lifted her hand to his face, cradling his cheek in her palm. "Would you willingly break the Code? Would you betray what you have pledged your life to every day to have me?" Noor asked calmly.
"This is my problem, Noor, not yours," he stated firmly.
"I already know the answer, my love. You're just being stubborn now, but soon, you'll see me as your weakness," she answered gravely.
He held her with his gaze, shaking his head with a peaceful certitude. "You're exasperating, obstinate and you never listen to what I say, but I know how I feel." His light smile faded, " I choose to take the chance. The question is: will you take it with me?"
He fiercely gathered her back against him, clutching her as though he was trying to imprint her in his flesh, to leave no place for doubts between them and kissed her almost desperately, overcoming her with his caress as he started to unbutton her shirt. Under his lips, Noor had closed her eyes, she had accepted long ago.
She weaved her own to kisses to his, tasting the night's coolness on the skin of his neck. His hands mapped her bust hungrily, sliding up to her shoulders to push her shirt off, letting it fall noiselessly on the ground. They both hummed their approval when their bare skin met at last.
He went to undo her hair with slightly trembling hands. She smiled and helped him. Soon her heavy locks tumbled down lazily, hanging low on her back. He combed his fingers reverently through the fiery gloss of the dark mass, discovering its weigh, crumpling its soft texture. "It's quite fortunate you kept that fiendish mane out of my sight," he whispered, lying a languid kiss at the junction of her jaw and her neck. " I think I would have lost my sleep." Her pulse grew heavier against his lips. She shuddered.
Obi-Wan's touch was so mesmerizing that it was a while before she started her own exploration. Her hands wandered on the hard planes of his chest followed by her lips running lightly on his face, his eyelids, his jaw, his collarbone--savoring every patch of skin. Her fingers studied the length of his back down to the narrow hips, learning his power and his tenderness. His breathing deepened. His palms mirrored her touch, curving at the small of her back, he traced the beginning of her hips above her pants before going back up on her front, brushing her breasts through the fabric of her bra. It was slow, it was maddening. A searing wave coursed through her body, setting her loins ablaze. She arched against him, unconsciously pushing her hips against his, breathless with the need of him.
He reached around her to unclasp her bra, suddenly craving to remove all the barriers between them. He made quick work of her pants and underwear. She stood in front of him bare and quite self-conscious. Flushing, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and buried her head against his shoulder. He whispered his love and reassuring words in her ear, patiently convincing her to relax and trust him. He took a breath of the fragrance of her hair before he gently pulled her away from him and eased her arms down. He slowly followed the dangerous path trailing between her breasts, his gaze leaving a scorching trace on her skin. She saw the blue shadows of desire shifting in his eyes. She heard a whisper rising from her lips.
"Please--"
Without a word, he lifted her up in his arms and walked to the other side of the veil. There, in his bed, he set about driving her wild, with his hands, his lips, his whole smooth body, drawing surprised sighs and moans from her until the cool night wind carried away their first gasp.
****
*****
Noor glanced at her watch and grumbled furiously to herself as she strode aimlessly on the shore. It was way past midnight, she literally ached for a nice bed to finally get some rest but here she was, homeless, walking towards the high shadow of the Roman theater. She was an adult, but still, stumbling on--- an intimate moment between her sister and her husband was making her nauseous. She picked up the pace before any visual could form in her mind. Sometimes she loathed being empathic.
She suddenly realized that Kenobi and her had forgotten to plan what they would do about the tomb in the morning.
'That will pass away the time until those two cool off,' she thought, heading back toward the camp. As she neared his tent, she saw the glimmer of the oil lamp filter through the slits of the canvas, indicating that he wasn't asleep yet. She called but as nothing responded, she got in. The main room separated from the sleeping area by a suspended veil was empty. She surveyed the sparse pieces of furniture.
Even absent, something of him was still lingering there. On the table lay a disarray of papers, a data pad, some colored stones he had found during the excavation and a sketchpad. Intrigued, she reached for it and discovered, surprised, this new side of him. She had never known he could draw so well. She browsed through the different sketches. Soon her eyes were full of the pure lines of the sea stretching away to finally fade in the horizon, the imposing verticality of the ruins contrasting with the shadows of the corners which seemed to whisper some ancient secret mingled with the portraits of the people he had met here. She was truly impressed by his ability to capture something beyond the simple resemblance. Something furtive---a flicker of life, a soul--
She chuckled knowingly when she found a picture of her with her unruly hair flowing from her ruined braid as the wind blew behind her, a fierce expression etched on her face. 'I'm glad he sees me as a harpy,' she smiled ironically to cover the fleeting thought that her representation, born under his fingers, looked beautiful. She closed the pad and put it back where she had found it.
Her eyes fell on the blue shirt he had worn during the day draped over the back of a chair. Noor buried her face in the wrinkled fabric and inhaled deeply. As she did so, something dropped from the breast pocket. Noor crouched down to pick it up.
It was a thin plaited lock of hair.
"That's my shirt you have here, woman."
The deep voice made her start guiltily. "You spent way too much time with Garrett," she grumbled, referring to his language.
She looked up and her mouth went dry. Kenobi was standing at the entrance of the tent, bare to the waist, a towel in his hand, observing her intently. The waving flame of the lamp cast specks of gold in his damp tawny hair, enhancing the warm honey tones of his skin darken by the sun. Her eyes followed the fine lines of his well-defined muscles, noted the golden hair dusting his upper chest and trailed down to the tight flat stomach.
He walked to the chair to put down the towel. She had not expected the harmonious fall of his shoulders, the long line of his back smooth like a stone. If he noticed her insistent gaze, he gave no sign of it. He turned towards her, still crouched down at his feet.
"I think I like seeing you from that point of view," he said with a half smile, just to annoy her.
'Likewise, baby,' she thought half ironic, half sincere as she rose promptly.
"I'm sorry, I was--kicked out from my tent. Maeve and Garrett, well--you see."
He nodded, "I do."
Not finding anything to say, she just stood there, ill at ease, fumbling with his shirt.
"I was there," he suddenly said.
She blinked, "What?"
He pointed to the plait in her hand, "During your trials, I was there."
" You mean, it's my padawan braid? But I would have sensed your presence," she countered.
He remained impassive. "Apparently not."
"You came back on purpose? Why?"
He shrugged. "It was your trials, it was important. My master didn't get to see me passing mine and I, well. I wanted to be there for yours."
He busied himself putting some order in the scattered papers. He didn't like to bare his thoughts like that.
A slow smile crept on her lips. Now, that was getting interesting. Could she possibly miss such an opportunity to tease him? Certainly not.
She attacked mercilessly: "Why was it in your shirt?"
"Why were you nosing in my things?" he shot back without turning around.
"I asked first."
"I don't know, it was in my utility belt. Now, what are you doing here?"
"You're eluding the question! Come on, Kenobi I'm the voice of your conscience!"
"The Force preserve me!" he mumbled, the light taunt returning in his voice. " Be careful, Noor, one of those pathetic sentimental moments is looming over us."
"Oh, twist my arm!" she exclaimed dramatically.
Suddenly he turned around and crossed the distance between them. He took the shirt from her hands and tossed it on the floor. Startled, she watched his eyes traveling on her face, memorizing every plane, every shade. Finally their breath mingled, slowly, as if it were the very first time. His long fingers came to frame her face, keeping her mouth firmly fastened to his and he opened up all his being to her, letting the emotions he had locked up inside flow into her mind. She reared up breaking the kiss. She was pale when she looked up at him.
"Obi-Wan--"
He blinked at the mention of his name and lowered his gaze to the ground. "I've never planned on this, believe me. You caught me off guards." He glanced at her. "Is that so repulsive to you?"
The biting derision of his tone did not quite conceal the hurt look in his eyes.
She lifted her hand to his face, cradling his cheek in her palm. "Would you willingly break the Code? Would you betray what you have pledged your life to every day to have me?" Noor asked calmly.
"This is my problem, Noor, not yours," he stated firmly.
"I already know the answer, my love. You're just being stubborn now, but soon, you'll see me as your weakness," she answered gravely.
He held her with his gaze, shaking his head with a peaceful certitude. "You're exasperating, obstinate and you never listen to what I say, but I know how I feel." His light smile faded, " I choose to take the chance. The question is: will you take it with me?"
He fiercely gathered her back against him, clutching her as though he was trying to imprint her in his flesh, to leave no place for doubts between them and kissed her almost desperately, overcoming her with his caress as he started to unbutton her shirt. Under his lips, Noor had closed her eyes, she had accepted long ago.
She weaved her own to kisses to his, tasting the night's coolness on the skin of his neck. His hands mapped her bust hungrily, sliding up to her shoulders to push her shirt off, letting it fall noiselessly on the ground. They both hummed their approval when their bare skin met at last.
He went to undo her hair with slightly trembling hands. She smiled and helped him. Soon her heavy locks tumbled down lazily, hanging low on her back. He combed his fingers reverently through the fiery gloss of the dark mass, discovering its weigh, crumpling its soft texture. "It's quite fortunate you kept that fiendish mane out of my sight," he whispered, lying a languid kiss at the junction of her jaw and her neck. " I think I would have lost my sleep." Her pulse grew heavier against his lips. She shuddered.
Obi-Wan's touch was so mesmerizing that it was a while before she started her own exploration. Her hands wandered on the hard planes of his chest followed by her lips running lightly on his face, his eyelids, his jaw, his collarbone--savoring every patch of skin. Her fingers studied the length of his back down to the narrow hips, learning his power and his tenderness. His breathing deepened. His palms mirrored her touch, curving at the small of her back, he traced the beginning of her hips above her pants before going back up on her front, brushing her breasts through the fabric of her bra. It was slow, it was maddening. A searing wave coursed through her body, setting her loins ablaze. She arched against him, unconsciously pushing her hips against his, breathless with the need of him.
He reached around her to unclasp her bra, suddenly craving to remove all the barriers between them. He made quick work of her pants and underwear. She stood in front of him bare and quite self-conscious. Flushing, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and buried her head against his shoulder. He whispered his love and reassuring words in her ear, patiently convincing her to relax and trust him. He took a breath of the fragrance of her hair before he gently pulled her away from him and eased her arms down. He slowly followed the dangerous path trailing between her breasts, his gaze leaving a scorching trace on her skin. She saw the blue shadows of desire shifting in his eyes. She heard a whisper rising from her lips.
"Please--"
Without a word, he lifted her up in his arms and walked to the other side of the veil. There, in his bed, he set about driving her wild, with his hands, his lips, his whole smooth body, drawing surprised sighs and moans from her until the cool night wind carried away their first gasp.
****