Hey everyone, back again with the next chapter. No reviews last time
round, hope everyone is still reading and enjoying. Please review and let
me know what you think, it really does help me to write quicker.
Disclaimer: The poem in this chapter is by English poet Robert Herrick, its title is To The Virgins, To Make Much of Time.
Hope you all like it. Thanks for reading.
......................................................................................................
For the second night in a row Jedi Master Mace Windu stood guard outside the room of Obi-Wan Kenobi, careful to make sure that no unwanted visitors showed up during the night.
He wasn't sure how long he was going to have to do this, the Senator hadn't mentioned what time she would leave and there was no need for him to force a time limit on her visit.
Her presence was beneficial to Obi-Wan, that much was clear, so the more time she spent with him the better it was for everyone.
It had been late evening when she'd reappeared in the healer's wing, handmaiden in tow.
There was no disguising the toll the current situation was taking on the young woman, she may have been able to fool many others but Mace had spotted the effects straight away.
To put it bluntly, she looked exhausted.
Her normally slightly golden skin was now pale, drained completely of its entire colour, her eyes were dim with little life to them and her posture was slumped.
It was obvious that she'd had a bad day to say the least.
He knew full well just how much she was both eager and hesitant to see her knight, unsure of what she would find on the other side of the door and whether she would like what she saw.
Despite her anxiousness she still managed to spend a few minutes engaging him in light conversation, much to his surprise.
She really was an incredible woman, the force had certainly chosen wisely.
Right now he didn't think there was anyone else who would be able to cope with the rough ride fate was going to throw at them.
Of course the future was always in motion and nothing was completely determined but unless some major factors were changed in one way or another, much of what Master Yoda had envisioned was more than likely to come true.
And from the amount of courage she had already demonstrated in her young life, Mace felt that she was more than capable of dealing with what may happen.
She really was Obi-Wan's perfect match.
He stretched out with his senses to secretly intrude on the goings on inside the room he guarded.
There wasn't much to detect, Obi-Wan's coma stat had left him broadcasting practically nothing and it took incredibly fine tuned senses to pick anything up from him, while the Senator kept her mind heavily shielded once again.
He knew that if he really wanted to though he could, with some time, read her thoughts but he didn't wish to violate her privacy in such a way.
All he could feel was a calm serenity seeping into the room and its point of origin seemed to be Obi-Wan.
Using his senses to fully focus on the unconscious knight, he was able to pick up on the new responses that Obi-Wan was having to Amidala's presence.
So intrigued was he by this new development that he couldn't help but approach the room and using the force, silently open the door to take a peak inside.
...................................................................................................
...................................................................................................
At last.
He didn't think Master Yoda was ever going to go to sleep.
Now was his chance.
All he had to do was keep quiet while he made his exit from the strange apartment.
He wouldn't be gone long.
He only wanted to sit with his Master for a few more minutes, make sure that he was still somewhat ok.
Hopefully he'd be back before Master Yoda would even notice he'd left.
..................................................................................................
..................................................................................................
It was in the middle of the bare white room that she sat with her love in the limited space of his bed, it having taken her a good 15 minutes to find a comfortable position.
The room was silent except for the soothing tone of her voice as she read to him.
For a while now she had been begging him to let her read a collection of her favourite love poems to him, and up until now he had always found ways to distract her or to suggest that they save it till the next time they were able to be together.
It brought a smile to her face as she pictured the look he would give her whenever she mentioned it.
He would instantly turn his nose up at the suggestion but then try and cover it up, as such, to appear as though it didn't bother him at all.
He said that it wasn't that he didn't like poetry; in fact he quite enjoyed reading it when he had the chance, but that love poetry in itself didn't really appeal to him, considering it to be more for women than for men.
When he'd said it she couldn't quite believe it and was quick to point out to him just how sexist a comment that was.
She always thought that he took way too much pleasure in her stating this but that didn't stop her presenting her case on just how wrong that statement was.
By the end of it she would work out that she had taken such a long time in making her point on many other topics that he had successfully managed to change the subject.
And having worked herself up so much over it he could easily distract her with his wandering hands and his heavy voice whispering to her that he would rather make love to her and show their love, than read about someone else's.
That would always get her.
So now as she sat next to him she decided to take full advantage of his comatose state and spent her time reading a few to him.
Finally there would be no interruptions, nowhere for him to, no way for him to get out of it; he would just have to listen.
Clearing her throat she read the next poem.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------
Gather ye Rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying.
The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his Race be run And nearer he's to Setting.
That Age is best which is the first, When Youth and Blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may forever tarry.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
She sat still for a few moments, digesting the poet's advice.
She studied Obi-Wan's motionless face for a while and wondered had they been wasting their time?
Had they worried too much about the duties that their lives had placed upon them?
Should they start living their lives for themselves, leave behind all the responsibilities that kept them apart?
She could go on forever asking questions that she didn't have the answers to, there were so many.
She let herself imagine what their life might be like if she weren't a Senator and he a Jedi.
Maybe they would be living in a cottage in the countryside of Naboo, he a carpenter or some other kind of craftsman and she a writer, she chuckled to herself, a poet, she could be a poet.
By now they might have children, yes a little girl.
She would have the dark brown locks of her mother and the ever changing blue eyes of her father.
She may even be pregnant with twins, oh how she'd love to have twins.
She knew that there was a possibility that she may; they were in her family already.
They would be able to spend their day's together, watch the sun set in the evenings, fall asleep in the same bed each night or make love until dawn.
There were so many possibilities.
Right now that imaginary life sounded so appealing.
She thought that if it were offered to her at this point in time she might not turn it down.
She had to stop herself.
She shouldn't be thinking like this anyway, there was no point in dwelling on something that would never come true.
So instead she snuggled even closer to her love and read the next poem.
........................................................................................................
........................................................................................................
He'd made it.
All he had to do now was walk down the next corridor, without being seen, and then he'd be at his Master's room.
Looking from side to side he made sure that no one had followed him, before walking through the door.
TBC.....
Ok so that's all this time round. It would be great to hear what you all think. Hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon. I have quite a flow going with my writing at the moment. Thanks a lot, Sassy.
Disclaimer: The poem in this chapter is by English poet Robert Herrick, its title is To The Virgins, To Make Much of Time.
Hope you all like it. Thanks for reading.
......................................................................................................
For the second night in a row Jedi Master Mace Windu stood guard outside the room of Obi-Wan Kenobi, careful to make sure that no unwanted visitors showed up during the night.
He wasn't sure how long he was going to have to do this, the Senator hadn't mentioned what time she would leave and there was no need for him to force a time limit on her visit.
Her presence was beneficial to Obi-Wan, that much was clear, so the more time she spent with him the better it was for everyone.
It had been late evening when she'd reappeared in the healer's wing, handmaiden in tow.
There was no disguising the toll the current situation was taking on the young woman, she may have been able to fool many others but Mace had spotted the effects straight away.
To put it bluntly, she looked exhausted.
Her normally slightly golden skin was now pale, drained completely of its entire colour, her eyes were dim with little life to them and her posture was slumped.
It was obvious that she'd had a bad day to say the least.
He knew full well just how much she was both eager and hesitant to see her knight, unsure of what she would find on the other side of the door and whether she would like what she saw.
Despite her anxiousness she still managed to spend a few minutes engaging him in light conversation, much to his surprise.
She really was an incredible woman, the force had certainly chosen wisely.
Right now he didn't think there was anyone else who would be able to cope with the rough ride fate was going to throw at them.
Of course the future was always in motion and nothing was completely determined but unless some major factors were changed in one way or another, much of what Master Yoda had envisioned was more than likely to come true.
And from the amount of courage she had already demonstrated in her young life, Mace felt that she was more than capable of dealing with what may happen.
She really was Obi-Wan's perfect match.
He stretched out with his senses to secretly intrude on the goings on inside the room he guarded.
There wasn't much to detect, Obi-Wan's coma stat had left him broadcasting practically nothing and it took incredibly fine tuned senses to pick anything up from him, while the Senator kept her mind heavily shielded once again.
He knew that if he really wanted to though he could, with some time, read her thoughts but he didn't wish to violate her privacy in such a way.
All he could feel was a calm serenity seeping into the room and its point of origin seemed to be Obi-Wan.
Using his senses to fully focus on the unconscious knight, he was able to pick up on the new responses that Obi-Wan was having to Amidala's presence.
So intrigued was he by this new development that he couldn't help but approach the room and using the force, silently open the door to take a peak inside.
...................................................................................................
...................................................................................................
At last.
He didn't think Master Yoda was ever going to go to sleep.
Now was his chance.
All he had to do was keep quiet while he made his exit from the strange apartment.
He wouldn't be gone long.
He only wanted to sit with his Master for a few more minutes, make sure that he was still somewhat ok.
Hopefully he'd be back before Master Yoda would even notice he'd left.
..................................................................................................
..................................................................................................
It was in the middle of the bare white room that she sat with her love in the limited space of his bed, it having taken her a good 15 minutes to find a comfortable position.
The room was silent except for the soothing tone of her voice as she read to him.
For a while now she had been begging him to let her read a collection of her favourite love poems to him, and up until now he had always found ways to distract her or to suggest that they save it till the next time they were able to be together.
It brought a smile to her face as she pictured the look he would give her whenever she mentioned it.
He would instantly turn his nose up at the suggestion but then try and cover it up, as such, to appear as though it didn't bother him at all.
He said that it wasn't that he didn't like poetry; in fact he quite enjoyed reading it when he had the chance, but that love poetry in itself didn't really appeal to him, considering it to be more for women than for men.
When he'd said it she couldn't quite believe it and was quick to point out to him just how sexist a comment that was.
She always thought that he took way too much pleasure in her stating this but that didn't stop her presenting her case on just how wrong that statement was.
By the end of it she would work out that she had taken such a long time in making her point on many other topics that he had successfully managed to change the subject.
And having worked herself up so much over it he could easily distract her with his wandering hands and his heavy voice whispering to her that he would rather make love to her and show their love, than read about someone else's.
That would always get her.
So now as she sat next to him she decided to take full advantage of his comatose state and spent her time reading a few to him.
Finally there would be no interruptions, nowhere for him to, no way for him to get out of it; he would just have to listen.
Clearing her throat she read the next poem.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------
Gather ye Rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying.
The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his Race be run And nearer he's to Setting.
That Age is best which is the first, When Youth and Blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may forever tarry.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
She sat still for a few moments, digesting the poet's advice.
She studied Obi-Wan's motionless face for a while and wondered had they been wasting their time?
Had they worried too much about the duties that their lives had placed upon them?
Should they start living their lives for themselves, leave behind all the responsibilities that kept them apart?
She could go on forever asking questions that she didn't have the answers to, there were so many.
She let herself imagine what their life might be like if she weren't a Senator and he a Jedi.
Maybe they would be living in a cottage in the countryside of Naboo, he a carpenter or some other kind of craftsman and she a writer, she chuckled to herself, a poet, she could be a poet.
By now they might have children, yes a little girl.
She would have the dark brown locks of her mother and the ever changing blue eyes of her father.
She may even be pregnant with twins, oh how she'd love to have twins.
She knew that there was a possibility that she may; they were in her family already.
They would be able to spend their day's together, watch the sun set in the evenings, fall asleep in the same bed each night or make love until dawn.
There were so many possibilities.
Right now that imaginary life sounded so appealing.
She thought that if it were offered to her at this point in time she might not turn it down.
She had to stop herself.
She shouldn't be thinking like this anyway, there was no point in dwelling on something that would never come true.
So instead she snuggled even closer to her love and read the next poem.
........................................................................................................
........................................................................................................
He'd made it.
All he had to do now was walk down the next corridor, without being seen, and then he'd be at his Master's room.
Looking from side to side he made sure that no one had followed him, before walking through the door.
TBC.....
Ok so that's all this time round. It would be great to hear what you all think. Hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon. I have quite a flow going with my writing at the moment. Thanks a lot, Sassy.