Disclaimer: The Star Wars universe and the characters in it still don't belong to me . . . except for Queen Shalla, I guess she's mine.
A/N: This is where it starts to get a bit sexy . . . this chapter and the next one. So be prepared! Hehe:-) Also, I deeply thank those of you who took the time to review. Your words filled me with happiness and the confidence to continue!
Expressing much, forced, regret to the Queen she excused herself from the dinner. It was rather odd that the guest of honor should jump up and leave in such a hurry. Maybe there was some kind of emergency. Or perhaps the exotic Noobian food had been too much for him and he was feeling ill. If either were true, he would probably head for his quarters.
She approached the door to his room with caution. From behind the barrier, two sounds reached her ears. There were muffled grunts and the familiar hum of a lightsaber. That can't be good! Her heart began to beat faster, thudding in her ears, making her light-headed.
A delicate, trembling hand reached up to finger the button which would open the door. Did she dare? How would he feel about her coming into his room unannounced and uninvited? Against her better judgment, she pressed it.
With the large curtains drawn, the spacious sitting area was completely dark . . . except for one thing.
A line of solid blue pierced the darkness, swaying and arcing, seemingly floating in mid-air. That first impression would be dashed upon closer inspection, however. If one were to look closely at the area around the light, small glimpses of tan fabric, a boot, or eyes locked in concentration could be seen.
Padmé tried to melt into the door as it closed behind her. She didn't want to disturb him, though what it was she would be interrupting still remained a mystery. The vibrant blue of the Jedi weapon had her hypnotized. She watched, spellbound, as it fought an invisible enemy.
So perfect was its attack that it was quite easy to forget about the living being that was wielding the instrument. The Jedi was one with his weapon, dancing to music that Padmé could not hear. His feet glided across the carpeted floor almost totally silent, and his movements were fluid, like water.
Obi-Wan had sensed her entrance but so deeply tied was he to this moment, he could not stop. And so he let her watch as he released the frustration and confusion that had been building in him for a week.
The speed of his movements increased and Padmé watched in awe. The light of blue spun, thrust, and arced so quickly that instead of one single light, all she could see was a large blue blur, looking almost like the sky itself. It was amazingly beautiful; beautiful and, Padmé reminded herself, quite deadly.
The power of his movements was almost frightening, and somehow familiar. Six years ago she remembered watching a security recording that had been taken deep in the bowels of Theed Palace, in the Generator Room.
A blade of red had overpowered one of green. And an anguished cry from a young man, forced to watch as his father was slain in front of him, broke her heart. The shield dropped and blue met red in a flurry of motion and power, light against dark. Even though the end would come as no surprise, she had been frightened. But amazed and intrigued also, at the skill and power that had existed within the Jedi Padawan.
And here, in this room, she watched him again. Her eyes having now adjusted somewhat to the darkness circling her, she could see his form more clearly, devoid of his heavy, dark brown outer-robe. Light tan fabric clung tightly to his beautiful Jedi physique, thanks to the sweat he had worked up. Padmé could see clearly the strength of his body as his muscles rippled and flexed with each swing of his weapon.
As his breathing increased with the exertion so did hers. There was something incredibly erotic in watching him like this. Seeing his mouth, open slightly, breathing in and out made her long to kiss him. His body, moving gracefully, rhythmically made her imagine . . . something she shouldn't. The desire within her surfaced, and her body throbbed, making her shiver.
The routine seemed to reach its climax and, without warning, the light vanished. There, in the darkness, she could hear the sound of deep, heavy breathing. But after a time, even that stopped. There was no light in the room and now, no sound.
Clinging to the door, her back plastered firmly against it, she could only hope that Obi-Wan had not sensed her presence. Right Padmé, a Jedi not feel your presence! Who are you kidding?
Now what?, she thought to herself in frustration. There were only two real options. She could run; right out the door, knowing that he would certainly be able to catch her. Or she could just face the fact that she had entered the room without permission and call out to him. Thankfully, or perhaps not, she was saved the burden of choice by a deep, whispered voice next to her ear.
"Is there something I can do for you M'Lady?" Obi-Wan asked, still slightly out of breath.
His voice in her ear, his hot breath on her neck, sent shivers down her spine. She could barely respond to the question posed. When her voice was found, it came quietly, like a whisper, "I'm sorry to disturb you Master Kenobi. I – I um noticed that you had left the dinner and just wanted to make sure that . . . you were alright."
"Crowds are sometimes a bit much for me," he responded. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, a tangible reminder of their close proximity to one another. And each word he spoke could be felt in her core, making her weak in the knees. "I made my excuses to Queen Shalla if you were worried."
Without warning, Obi-Wan took her hand in his own, his thumb gently rubbing the skin of her palm. "There is no need for you to lurk in the shadows Padmé."
He led her slowly into what she assumed to be the center of the sitting room. Leaving her for only a moment, Obi-Wan moved to draw back the heavy curtains of his windows. Gradually, soft moonlight began to filter into the room, revealing plush furniture and ornate Noobian works of art.
The Knight was struck once again by Padmé's beauty as she stood before him. Seeing her by candlelight at the dinner party, he imagined that he would never again see anything so lovely. But that was before he saw her in the moonlight. It seemed to somehow highlight her form and figure and make her eyes darker and even more seductive.
Blast! Why hadn't he turned her away? Perhaps it was because he could sense that there was another, less respectable, reason for her presence here tonight, one she wished to keep locked away in her mind . . .
This has to stop! He had to stop looking at her like this, like a goddess. They were friends. And that is all they ever could be! He was not willing to give up the Order . . . not even for her. Though the sex act itself may not be forbidden, attachment certainly was. And Obi-Wan Kenobi was not the kind of man who could engage in such an act and not become attached.
Walking to her, his resolve stiffened, he nonchalantly wiped the sweat from his brow. He addressed her now with an impeccable degree of formality, "I appreciate your concern M'Lady. But as you can see, I am quite well."
For many moments she did nothing but look at him, attempting to gauge the meaning behind his words. Though his voice remained strong, and his style was formal, his eyes betrayed him. It was difficult to see, his face only half exposed by the moonlight, but those shining blue-green orbs left him open and vulnerable to her penetrating gaze.
Tonight, those eyes held not the brightness of his Force-filled spirit, but something darker. It was that same look he had unknowingly given her earlier: desire. But there was something else there too. Was it sadness? Or guilt? Or both?
Padmé didn't have to be a Jedi to sense this. Nor did she have to be a genius to put the pieces together. In fact, she had done so already on Obi-Wan's second day on Naboo. But she had pushed her thoughts away then. To entertain them would only allow her fantasies room to run in her mind. And that would only have gotten her into trouble.
Though, as she had just discovered, they ran where they pleased regardless.
Never before had a non-Force user been able to see through him the way she could. Scrutinizing him as she did now, with those beautifully disarming eyes, he knew that all secrets, all desires were laid bare. This woman saw the truth that he continued to deny even to himself.
How had it come to this? For the whole of his life he had never been tempted by the beauty of a woman. The Code had been his life and the Order, his family. Because he had known nothing else, he had missed nothing. But now, he was painfully aware of how different his life could have been.
Obi-Wan's heart ached to love her. His body longed to please her. But he couldn't, and it was tearing him apart. Being a Jedi had taken him to all parts of the galaxy and placed him in the company of the most beautiful women. None of them had made him feel the way Padmé did. What was it about this woman that tugged at him so?
Her voice, simple and strong, brought him out of his thoughts, "Are you 'well' Obi-Wan? It doesn't look that way to me." Padmé reached up and stroked his cheek gently, "Tell me, Jedi. Who were you in here fighting?"
Eyes of blue-green fell to the floor; he could not find his voice to answer her. Nor did he need to. The answer was clear to them both. The Jedi, accustomed to fighting the tangible enemies without, had spent the evening battling the demons within.
"Padmé," he began quietly, "I care about you very much . . . much more than I should."
She continued to caress his face, committing every centimeter of his profile to her memory. Moving her other hand to rest on his warm chest, Padmé felt the rough fabric of his Jedi robes, a symbol of his life's commitment. "I know you can't give up the Force for me Obi-Wan . . . any more than I could give up the Senate for you. You can feel that we're both meant for something more. And we can't let love get in the way."
Without a word, his strong arms went around her, holding her near. Obi-Wan was so grateful. Finally, he understood. He shared a deep bond with this woman, one that he was only beginning to understand. When she had needed him, his first night on Naboo, he had felt it and went to her. Now, as his mind and thoughts were clouded, she was here to tell him the truth and understand.
"Where does that leave us Padmé?" he whispered.
"We've both been left here to fight our demons Obi-Wan. At this moment in time we are here together. No Senate, no Jedi Council . . . just the two of us."
She was afraid; afraid of his reaction, of rejection. But she would never have another chance like this one . . . neither of them would. And so, to show him her heart, for the sake of them both, she did something she knew Obi-Wan would never have been able to.
Pulling his head toward hers, Padmé captured his lips in a deep, passionate kiss.