Author's Note: I hope everyone is enjoying the tale so far. As always, I am not a professional writer so all grammatical mistakes are mine and mine alone. If you like the story, feel free to drop me a comment! I love hearing the thoughts and opinions of my readers. It helps me grow as a writer. Cheers!

"Give me a man;

strong and sure footed.

His mouth so full of my name,

he has no room for lies.

Give me a man with

adventure in his bones

and fire in his gut.

Open hearted and

just bold enough,

to see through my disguise."

-Mia Hollow

I...do not understand. Why should he care?

I have done nothing to warrant either affection nor concern. The last time we laid eyes upon one another, I led him on a merry chase through the woods and left him stranded. He should be cursing my name, laughing at my misfortune.

So then why?

"My lady? Did that knave harm you?" His eyes are a storm of shadows and his grip tightens around my waist, "Tell me what he has done and I will see his head rots on a pike."

I hear it in his soft words, the whisper of death. The promise of pain to come and my traitorous heart beats a little faster for it.

He would do it. He would drag that craven idiot out by his blonde hair and kill him.

For me.

When was the last time a man acted as my sword and shield in the unjust world?

Not since I was a child. My brothers fight for the freedom of others, as do I. It would not occur to them to take up arms for my sake because I have proven, again and again, I am not a damsel in need of rescuing.

I refuse to be pleased by this. I am not the least bit delighted to hear he would do violence if I but gave a nod of my head.

"No," I pressed my palm to his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart that seems to echo my own, "I am unharmed. Please, I pray, let me go."

The feel of his arms fitting my body snugly against his tall frame makes me feel strange. A soft, languid heat infuses my blood and I want to turn and draw the scent of his body into my lungs. Leather and steel and something more. Lightning and wind, the edge of a raging storm.

"Are you certain?" He dips his head, the soft murmur of his voice for my ears alone, "I assure you, I am in no hurry to let go."

Heat scalding my skin as if I have pressed too close to a fire and I shove him away at his unmerciful teasing. His arms slip away from my waist and I stagger back onto my feet, my heart trying to break through my ribs.

Heavens, I was right. He is a silver tongued devil.

I have no doubts whatsoever he has stolen a kiss or three with that glib mouth of his. I glance back at him as he lifts a lofty brow in my direction, the slightest curve of his lips setting my pulse racing.

I am not disappointed he didn't try to steal a kiss from me when he had the chance just now.

I turn back to the younglings, guilt tripping on the edge of my consciousness. I had forgotten them so easily when he spoke to me.

"Will they be alright?"

I approach the temple healer with caution. Now I know what to expect, I can ignore the pulse of power emanating from her slight frame. She has finished wrapping Wicket's hand and the boy is flexing his short fingers, a look of wonder on his face.

"Yes, though this one will have a sore throat for a few days yet. Not much can be done about it except rest."

"Lay off you," Kit pushes the healer's hands away albeit gently I notice, "I ain't dead-" a choking sound as painful coughs shake his thin body and the healer, Kaja, makes circular motions with her hands against his pack.

I feel it, the touch of power. A shift in the Force and the boy's cough quiets within seconds. I blink, taken aback to see her openly using the Force to heal.

Except no one seems to notice.

Because only I have been trained by Master Kenobi to sense the living Force.

"An interesting trick to soothe a cough so quickly."

I startle, badly, when Kylo's silken voice cuts through the silence. I turn, staring at him but he is watching the healer with a frown upon his lips. Icy shadows lurk in his gaze and there is no sign of the man who flirts with such ease.

A whisper of warning, a frisson of fear passing like a cloud before the sun.

This man is dangerous.

"One learned over many years, errant knight." Kaja's reply is serene and unperturbed as she continues to sooth Kit, "This is not the first time I have used such methods. The heat allows the lungs to expand, loosening the tension constricting the airway. You are free to try yourself if you disbelieve."

"No," he waves a hand and takes a step back, "you are clearly a master healer and I dare not interfere."

I let out a breath I did not realize I had been holding. For a moment I thought he had sensed the same current of power. Perhaps her method of healing is new to him and he was merely curious as to why it worked so quickly.

I am jumping at imaginary shadows. Kaja being Jedi trained has spooked me much more than I realized.

There were so many questions swirling in my thoughts I wished to scream. But I dare not reveal her secrets with so much as a casual remark. She must be in hiding for a reason and the white film over her blind eyes might be the cause.

"For once you show sense, surprisingly." I flick fingers at him and he gives me a dour look and I feel my lips twitching in response, "Have you nothing better to do than harass a woman who is clearly trying to do some good?"

"That was unkind."

A soft growl from him and everything soft and feminine inside me awakes and far too eager to tangle with this male.

"I do not recall saying I was kind."

I turn my back on him and sink down to the ground to get a better look at Kit. He is breathing better and I swear the bruising around his neck has faded several shades.

"Why would you do something so foolish as to try and swipe the purse of a noble?"

Kit turns his head and spits onto the sidewalk, just barely missing my skirt. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I have seen the men in camp do this far too often to be more than mildly disgusted.

He glances at me, obviously waiting for a reaction. I fold my arms and keep my silence.

"He was flashin all them coins around like it was nothin. Me and my sibling, we gotta survive somehow. Didna think he was so quick t'notice a few coins missin."

"You have siblings? How many and where?"

"Yeh, because Imma really going t'say. You ain't my mam. Imma fine now."

He bats the healer away and this time she retreats, straightening as her robes settle like falling water to the ground.

Kit is on his feet in a thrice, a slight nod to Kylo, surprising me yet again. "Thanks for the coin. Wicket, you a good mate. Come find me next time!"

Kit is off and running before I can even think to stop him. I sigh, shaking my head, worrying how much longer he will be able to doge the local guard.

"He will be fine. He has survived this long." I glance up as Kylo's dark shadow falls across my face, hand held out to me, "Take my hand."

" I don't-"

But his fingers are sliding against my wrist, beneath the long sleeve and rough calluses caress my skin as he pulls me to my feet. My stomach clenches hotly, my breath catching at the rush of intimacy between us.

Before I can protest he is already stepping back and I find myself bereft of his touch and clench my fingers in an effort not to grab his hand.

He has bespelled my mind, it is the only explanation why I wished him to remain.

"Young Wicket I shall need a guide back to the temple. Will you lend me your arm?"

"Oh," I turn towards the blind healer, "forgive me for not offering. Let me-"

"Nah, I owe her a debt." Wicket steps between us so the woman can rest her hand on his shoulder, "Elder said never to be in-indeb-"

"Indebted?"

Kylo's amused tone clears Wicket's confusion with a hasty nod, "indeb...ted to anyone and t'pay it back quickly. So I will help."

His earnest words leave me chagrin for overstepping my role. I wish Chirpa were here to see his apprentice for this would quell any doubts he might have regarding the boy's maturity.

"A good day to you both. Young woman," her sylvan voice catches my attention immediately, "should you fancy a tour of the temple, I would be glad to assist. The same for you, errant knight."

A slightly annoyed sigh from Kylo. "I wish you would stop calling me by such titles."

"Oh? Did you not come to yon maidens aide? A knight who takes upon another name is still a knight."

With those cryptic words the healer departs with Wicket, leaving me much bemused by the exchange.

"Perhaps blindness has addled her thoughts, making such assumptions."

I give my erstwhile rescuer a sharp glance. "Perhaps she sees far more than what we discern of the world."

A thoughtful mien settles over his handsome visage and I find myself wishing I was what I pretended to be. A merchant's daughter who would not give a second thought in asking this man to escort her back to her dwelling so she might get better acquainted.

But that can never be. I am fated to die on the battlefield, for it is the life I have chosen and my path has but one ending.

"I give you thanks for your timely aid," I gather a handful of skirts and my shaky curtsy is not too embarrassing, "but I must be off. Fare well...errant knight."

"Wait." His hand lifts but he does not touch me and I pause, curious at his sudden hesitation.

"Yes?"

"You have not told me of your reason for being in Leese."

I lift a brow at him and drop my skirts, hands on hips. "Why should my business concern you?"

He clenches his fist, dropping it to his side as annoyance flashes in his gaze. "You have a prickly tongue for one trying to show you courtesy."

"I never asked for your courtesy."

"Nonetheless, it is polite manners to do so."

"Politeness hmm?"

Well I suppose it will do no harm to tell him the lie for my being here.

"I am selling my family's goods from Aldea at the festival."

A flicker in raven. "You are a merchant?"

"So quick you are to catch on." I cannot help but tease him and my heart pounds to see the slight tilt of his lips in the ghost of a smile. "Tell me, what brings you if we are dispensing courtesy."

"Perhaps I was drawn here by a vision of beauty."

His flowery words, so elegantly spoken, leave me floundering for a response. His smirk is not at all charming.

I am an idiot for believing his honeyed lies for even a moment.

Anger heats my blood and I will not think as to why his teasing affects me when I have heard far worse from the men in our rebellion and thought nothing of it.

"Be off with you and ply your glib tongue to some other unwary maid. I have no need for fools."

I turn my back on him, intending to walk away.

"I am here for the tourney in truth."

I stop and berate myself for turning back around, cursing my curious nature.

"Which part?"

"Will you not take a guess?"

I glance up at the sword strapped to his back. The ease of how he dispatched those would be assailants all too vivid in my mind. "Swordsmanship? But you are well nigh proficient with a bow to win."

I have not yet forgotten how he took that brigand in the eye the other day.

He gives me a courtly bow, the thick fall of his hair obscuring his face and a quiver of delight settles within my bones despite my better intentions.

"Such praise will make me believe you think highly of my humble self."

I let out a snort of disbelief despite it not being ladylike at all. "I have seen many things from you, Sir Kylo, and humility is not one of your virtues."

He straightens and it is there again, the fleeting ghost of a smile. I wish I had the boldness to step up to him and claim his smile for myself.

"You have not seen everything I have to offer, my lady."

I take back my earlier thoughts. Kissing this man would be dangerous to my sanity. I doubt I could stop with a single taste.

He steps forward, once more offering me his hand with a wicked heat in his gaze, "Would you care-"

"Sir Kylo! My lord over here!"

His hand drops, head jerking behind at the caller and I see several riders approaching. The crest of the ruling lord is on their tabards.

Fear grips my lungs and while he is distracted, I bolt into the crowd and lose myself among their numbers.

They called him 'my lord'. I was right again. He is nobility.

Disappointment crashes hard inside of me, a sick sense of falling and not knowing where I will land.

I did not want him to be a noble, a lapdog of Armitage Hux.

He defended those boys against the others. He is different surely.

I shake my head and hike my skirts higher as I quicken my steps from a brisk walk to a run.

He did it only because he knew he would be safe from recrimination. Those riders called out to him as if they knew him personally. Why would they do so if he was to be clapped in irons?

But what if I am wrong? He may be noble but not all are favored by the tyrant king. There are some who have managed to keep their titles and only put on the appearance of loyalty.

A spark, an ember of hope burning in my breast, refusing to go out.

I dare not let it spread any further, I know all to well the futility of hoping for something that cannot exist.

He and I, our paths should never have crossed, our worlds far apart.

He is a noble, pledged to the bastard king and I am the rebel spy pledged to bring said king down.

There can be nothing between us. To think otherwise is traitorous.

I...cannot see him again.

The image of his hand held out for mine, the promise of pleasure in his gaze lingers far too long in my thoughts even as I return to my stall and relieve Chirpa for his much needed respite.

Forget him. You must forget everything but the mission.

If only my heart could be so easily swayed as my head but it is a stubborn creature and is deaf to such pleas.