He watched her with the careful intensity one would perhaps recognize in that of a predator, but with a curiosity and anxiety that betrayed his title of Jedi Master. His breathing, heavy even in pristine physical health, accompanied the sweat dripping off the beard and onto the sleek floors of the Temple training grounds. He stood, unwavering, hand extended in his usual focusing two-finger point, eyes cemented on her form before him.
She, likewise in the vein of breathing hard, scoured him with her eyes. Reading the movements of a Jedi was only a feat accomplished by years of practice and disciplined force-training – it did not come naturally to many students, a task to be learned. She could sense his anticipation of her movements in the force, despite his desperate attempts to mask it. They stood, adjacent from one another, still – watching, anticipating. Her muscles were burning as she stood poised in a basic defense position, chest rising and falling with each attempt to move air into her lungs. The air about them was heavy with anticipation, waiting for the strike. It was so thick with a desirable tension that it caused her bones to ache.
It had been weeks since she'd sparred last with Obi-Wan Kenobi upon his departure from the Temple. He'd been stationed back to his Open Circle Fleet with Anakin Skywalker, his former padawan, almost twelve weeks previous. They'd been everywhere in the Outer Rim it seemed – everywhere across the stars. Everywhere but here, at the Temple on Coruscant; where they – he – belonged.
And, what was more, after her desperate loss of reason and pursuit of him that day in the gardens, things had never really remained the same for either of them. He was no longer her Master – no longer the Jedi assigned to prepare her for the war; the mentor sent to prepare the coming Knights and advise them. He was Obi-Wan Kenobi – hers. Her secret and her passion; her love and her guilt all rolled into a delightfully tasteful package. He was truly the embodiment of everything she had ever desired – every ounce of him promised her something new each time she laid eyes on him. He was never the same man twice; never the same in the force or in rhetoric or in promise. An enigma, on all counts.
Their parting had been the most of tragedies. After he had kissed her in the gardens and wrapped himself around her in the force she had never been the same person, and she knew he had not. The kiss had opened a floodgate of new emotions and sent both of them to their undoings: from there, they were a hopeless cause entangled in the workings of both romance and dedication.
Gone were the naiveté ways of the young lady force-user in her; the Jedi whom knew nothing of passion and attachment. She had changed into a stronger person – a stronger and more dedicated Jedi. She had flung herself into her duties, partially to become the Jedi he knew she was; mostly to keep the aching reminders of his presence at bay in his absence.
And, to her surprise, her efforts had paid off. She had excellent in her tasks and had gained the attention of the Council – so much so to gain praise from Plo Koon, and also Yoda and Mace Windu. They had praised her efforts and her responsibility; had taken notice of her genuine pursuit of the force. It had earned her marks with them, to be certain.
As well as a chance to take part in the workings of the war.
Her first assignment had been to oversee to the maintenance of Master Plo Koon's flagship while he was on Coruscant for reassignment. It had been a most honorable and exhilarating charge – and she had seen to it with every breath in her being. She had been asked for her professional opinion on the craft's structure, all the while wondering if Plo had had his hand in the endeavor. Upon his deployment, he had put in a good word for her to the Council and had taken her suggestions to heart and seen them to fruition.
From there, it had only begun. Within weeks she had been assigned to training padawan's and conducting research to the utmost importance of the war – had been commissioned to relay sensitive materials to not only Plo Koon and other Jedi, but Obi-Wan as well. Her holocalls to his flagship had been nothing but professional and concise to the wandering eyes, but to them both it had been so much more: she could see the pride in his eyes even being lightyears away.
To see the pride in his eyes had been enough to shatter her and remake her soul. She had never so much wanted the admiration of any one human being before as she did that of Obi-Wan – she had not craved the affections of anything in her years before having kissed him in the gardens. She often walked the gardens and read from his selections of Twi'leki poetry to ease the pain of his absence – if not reacquaint herself with the foundations of their relationship all over again.
She now belonged to him, she realized. Never before had the waters of the Jedi been so treacherously crossed in ways such as this – this idea of belonging to something other than the Order. But, try as she would, she could not deny the feelings she had had for Obi-Wan Kenobi since having first laid eyes on him: she had known then that he was an extraordinary person, and that he would change her life. However, she hadn't known she would develop such strong feelings for him – such feelings driving her to the point of self-sacrifice at his feet, of giving up herself for him. Of respecting him on an entirely new level and knowing he felt the same way. She had never dreamed that she, a most dedicated Jedi and he, a passionate master of the force would ever stretch the limited boundaries of the Jedi Code. She had never asked to be different – only better. But, she had been different – from the very start of it all. He had been different.
It was an act of the force, as he'd promised her that day in the gardens before he'd gone; after he'd kissed her so delectably. He had promised her that upon his return they would navigate these waters together to find a way to make this right and proper; to do this confession of love properly. While he had not used the word, she had seen it in his eyes and etched across his face: he loved her, just as much as she loved him. An idea so diametrically opposed to everything the Jedi stood for but at the same time so parallel to everything it was. She was fully ready to lay her life down for this man, and she knew in her heart he would do so the same. How could something so pure and so beautiful be denied any human being, Jedi or not? How could such a divine feeling be absent from the light?
It couldn't be, she reasoned. It was the ignorance of the Jedi that kept this emotion away – their own insecurities and fear. It was a precaution against those who would use such emotion at a disadvantage; those who would pursue greed and power instead of true, unadulterated love. She culminated that the Jedi refused such emotion for the betterment of the whole, at least in their minds – but did they know what they were missing? Did they know what they were denying the Jedi?
She doubted it. If they did know, then they were cruel and heartless people; everything opposite of what she knew of the Jedi Council. If they had any idea the feelings that were embedded inside of her for one person, then they could not in any sane way be so against attachment. No being could be. Her thoughts were at risk, however, against the Council – both her and Obi-Wan would be exiled from the Jedi if they knew of their attachment.
Which, she was thankful Obi-Wan so was acclaimed in the force and so masterful. She could only hope to glean such understanding of it from him in their time together – she would love for nothing more to spend her days studying beneath him and gleaning his wisdoms in the force. Even so far apart could she feel him in the force as he meditated – she could hear his voice in her dreams and feel his connection through the force. It seized her in new ways each and every time; an adventure she wanted nothing more than to fall in and remain in.
However, their deception came at its costs. She could not shake the inevitable guilt that penetrated her soul by conveying such emotions in her heart. The Jedi in her was lost in the wake of this newfound emotion – while it grew, she could also feel it die. The truthfulness the Jedi clung to so tightly was slipping from her grasp in an aching war between emotion and duty. She was slowly losing control of her ability to remain focused in her meditations, as often her thoughts drifted to the day in the gardens and the day in the future when Obi-Wan would wrap his arms around her and kiss her all over again.
And while her tenacity for growth expounded, her focus was cloudy. Though the Council saw a bright and shining Jedi Knight, she felt the part of the wolf in sheeps clothing as she deceived them before their very eyes. She had briefly wondered how such a powerful group of Jedi could be blind to see the love in her eyes, but reasoned that if they truly weren't looking than they wouldn't see it. If they were under the pretense that she had abandoned all hope of attachments b by becoming a Jedi in the first place, they had nothing to suspect nor concern themselves with. She had never had the opportunity to know what attachment felt like in her life before Obi-Wan, so it was a concept lost to the Council and dismissed abruptly.
But, did that make it right? Did it make it right for her to continue deceiving the Council? Her gut pitted into her feet and she steeled herself for the answer she already knew was planted inside of her heart – no, it wasn't right. It was not right to deceive her Masters and those she so desperately admired – but, it was also wrong to deny herself the love she felt for Obi-Wan Kenobi as well. The mere thought of her abandoning him left knife wounds across her heart, as if stabbed repeatedly and left to wither and die. She couldn't imagine herself without his love and desire – couldn't imagine herself without desiring and loving that man. It all was so blind and cloudy in the force.
If Obi-Wan was right, and this is of the force – it will work itself out, she told herself over and over again every time the thoughts bombarded her like crashing waves on a shore.
And now, those thoughts paraded around her mind like a waving banner, blinding her focus and her ability to read the man she had been so desperately pining after in these twelve weeks apart. So blinded was she that she didn't prepare for his striking blow and took a sharp blow to the chest, not having seen him shift his weight and swing his leg around.
The heel of his boot collided solidly with the training armor secured on her chest and sent her flying backwards a good five or six feet, until her shoulders slammed into one of the magnificent stone pillars of the Temple's training grounds. She sharply hit the floor, her head cracking against the pillar. Blackness danced before her eyes, and the training saber she'd been using had long since left her grasp, sitting motionlessly and abandoned a good twelve feet from her. Her chest burned with the traces of the impact left by him, and she winced.
He panicked, and dropped his training saber as soon as he'd realized what had happened, and crossed the distance between them in three strong, quick strides. He fell to a knee beside her and unbuckled the armor from her body, discarded it to the side rashly. She could already feel a bruise begin to form on her breastbone, and coughed as she tried to replenish the air in her chest.
Obi-Wan was all jitters now, and she regretted her display almost immediately. The pain and apology in his eyes was enough to break her, and he pushed aside one of her curls to tuck it behind her ear, taking his fingers to lift her chin to stare him right in the eye. He searched her own carefully, finding traces of her condition and marking them in the back of his mind. She could see his concern mount, traces left behind in the blanched whiteness of his skin, now devoid of any type of color. Sweat trickle down his temple, and his eyes broke from hers, scanning her body.
The shock in his voice was laced with apology. "I'm sorry," he said hastily, "I was sure you'd deflect or counterstrike – are you alright?" His hand came to rest on her cheek, forming to the outline of her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone tenderly. She nodded furiously, her chest still burning, "Say something, would you?"
She croaked out a reply, "I'm alright," her voice was scratchy and low-pitched, burning returning to her chest again. She coughed and put a hand to her chest, inhaling a sharp breath. "I think you just knocked the wind out of me,"
His brow frumpled, "I did a lot more than that, I'm afraid," he took her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles, "that was a strong kick to take in training armor."
She interlaced their fingers and nodded, shifting to begin to stand, "It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd deflected," she coughed again, and he intercepted her quickly when she slipped, "I'm okay."
"You most certainly aren't," he chastised her softly, "I'm taking you to see Vokara for an assessment –" Once she found her feet and had stopped swaying, she grabbed his wrist with her hand and fell against the pillar, the burning heat in her chest beginning to subside. It fell almost into a rhythm with the beating of her heart.
He stopped, locked eyes with her, and shifted to stand fully in front of her. She took her other hand and ran her fingers through his beard, her nails tenderly dragging across his skin. A small smiled pulled at her lips and she shook her head, "No," she chuckled, and moved his hand to her waist, "stay here, with me. Let me catch my breath," She let her hand fall from the hair of his beard and trace the rippling muscle of his arm and allowed it to move to his chest. "It'll be along any minute now."
He stood stock still, like a pillar of cemented stone power that wouldn't be moved. She could see the apprehension rise in his eyes as her fingertips traced the muscle of his chest beneath his own armor. Whatever apprehension in his eyes began to fade when she edged him closer, to fill the mold of her body, until finally his arm securely wrapped around her waist. Heat washed through her body as the distance between them closed and rattled her bones, the pain of her chest skyrocketing to new levels before again falling into pace with her heartbeat. His closeness began to overwhelm her senses until ever nerve was tight and tingling with emotion.
The smile that twisted his beard was dismantling. "You're a dangerous force," he chortled, moving aside another one of her fallen curls with a wisp of his hand. His expression suddenly turned serious, "whenever you're not so easily defeated in a sparring match." Her mouth fell open in mock surprise at him, and she playfully socked his shoulder.
This elicited another chuckle from him and a smile. "I've missed you," he said softly, lifting a hand and brushing his fingertips over her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed and she tipped her head back in relished delight at his touch. "I have missed you so much."
She let out a lingering breath and moaned delightfully, "I've missed you too," she conceded, opening her eyes to look into his own. He met her there with a tenderness that alarmed her at first, but soothed her concerns immediately with a fleck of playful intensity. "whenever you're not brutally knocking me down in a sparring match."
This broke them both into a fit of laughter, and he met their foreheads together and his chuckle faded into his chest, deep and low until it was gone in a strong exhale. She broke the silence between them, "I don't want you to go again."
She felt him bristle. "I know," he sighed heavily, "but I must. I'm afraid the war doesn't stop outside these walls," he pulled back to stare into her eyes again, "despite how much I want it to." He took a step back from her and took her hand, pulled it to his lips, and left a gentle kiss on it. She watched him carefully as he released her hand and moved to intercept her training saber.
He stooped, picked it up, and then approached her again, extending it to her. A goofy smile twisted his beard this time, "Do you think you can handle another go, or are you finished?"
She snatched it from him, lifted her chin playfully, and moved towards the training circle again. "Of course I can do another," she sounded purposefully insulted, "don't be so quick to kick me down next time and you'll see I can match you strike for strike."
His brow lifted in a surprised expression, "I see I didn't manage to knock your pride off its pedestal," she smiled at him and poised herself in the circle, lightsaber brought up close to her right ear, left hand extended before her in a steadying gesture. He extended a hand and called his own saber to him through the force, activating the blade. "Are you ready?."
She gave him a smirk, "Are you ready, Master Kenobi?" She cajoled him now, and his eyes flecked with a dark hint of playfulness and desire.
He broke eye contact and scanned her body with his eyes. Playfully appalled, she threw herself at him, bringing her saber in a wide-arching swing, only to have him do the same and take half a step back to meet her blow. Their sabers collided, bounced off one another, and she spun away from him. She came around sharply, arching again, and their sabers collided low this time, braced against one another, her body half twisted.
He patronized her now. "Very good," his lips upturned in a sarcastic smirk. She frowned at him, grunted, and broke the contact sharply, pushing her hands down. She threw herself into a quick backflip, moved away from him, and landed in a low defensive posture, eyeing him carefully. He laughed at her.
She allowed him a small smile, "Don't be shy," she winked at him, "that can't be all that you have." She followed him as he circled her in a half-moon, and then once three-quarters behind her, came at her swiftly. She, however, pivoted, and rolled out of his way.
Without warning, he came at her again in a barrage of quick strikes, and she matched his movements, timing them carefully and sensing their progress through the force. Her chest burned now, the bruise well since having formed in the deep tissues of her skin, and finally spun away from him. He staggered forward, and came around swiftly. He was sweating again, and reached for the hem of his shift, then lifted it away over his head. She froze.
She watched him nervously, as he shed the shirt and tossed it well outside their training circle. Every piece of her was now alive with newfound fire to the point where she thought she would incinerate where she stood. She blinked, taking in his chest now, dumbfounded again by never having seen a man's chest before. She felt her throat constrict and tighten, and her mouth dried. The smirk on his face hinted that he'd done it on purpose, to disarm her.
"Still doing alright, darling?" His patronizing tone was incredulous – almost insufferable given her current state. Even beside herself she couldn't without a sneering glare at him, which earned her another bout of laughter from him. "We may stop, if you'd like."
"No," she inserted quickly, rising out of her pose. She lowered her defense and deactivated her blade, then clipped the hilt to her belt. She stepped away from him and turned, and without thinking, she began to lift her own tunic over her head, until it was well away from her body and halfway through the air. It landed to the floor silently, and she couldn't withhold the burning breaths threatening to escape her throat. She briefly considered what she'd done, but didn't think twice about it again when she spun around a bit quickly to face him in nothing more than her chest wrapping.
His eyes widened at her, and she saw him first flush red and then blanch, even from across the training ring. Her body tensed again, her hands tingling, as every nerve found a new level of heated tension. She was breathing hard again, this time out of nervousness instead of exertion. She swallowed, their eyes locked, neither of them daring to break the stare and look beyond the inevitable. She could feel the dynamic between them thicken; break away to a new level. It shifted before her very eyes – and, from what she could tell, he saw it to. She guessed he'd never seen anything more than a woman's outline within a tunic, given their vows of chastity, just as she'd never seen a man's chest.
A sudden wave of uncertainty floated over her, and a newfound exposure hit her like a sharp blow to the gut. She was suddenly very aware that she was half naked before Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Jedi Temple, and a wave of nausea hit her. She panicked, hitched in a breath, and brought her right arm up to cover her, looking away from him; feet cemented to the floor. Heat dashed up her neck and exploded onto her face, and she wrapped her other arm around her torso, suddenly aware he could see all the imperfections of her body, and her uncertainties. It was a vain attempt to cover what she'd already uncovered.
She stood there, contemplating herself, until suddenly she noticed he was coming towards her, saber deactivated and in hand. She gave him a cautious side look, as if to tell him to stop, but if he knew what she was asking he didn't pay it any mind. Instead he kept coming, until he was mere feet from her, and she took a precautionary step back from him. His eyes broke away from her own and moved down her body, and she could see him memorize every detail. She swallowed thickly again, her tongue feeling like cotton, and she whirled around quickly, back to him now.
"I'm sorry," she uttered breathlessly, digging her nails into the flesh of her shoulder, "this was wrong, and I –" she hitched a quick, uneasy breath. The words had seemed coherent in her brain, but now she realized he hadn't said anything to condemn her actions and now they sounded flooded and mottled coming from her mouth.
She could feel the heat of his stare, now. He stepped forward again, and she watched his shadow fall over her until she could feel the heat radiating off his body against her own skin. She was instantly unnerved by his closeness, and tensed, closing her eyes. She inhaled shakily, bit her lower lip, and tried not to focus on his warm breath cascading down her spine and sending and sending ripples through her resolve. She hoped she hadn't begun to tremble, and opened her mouth to speak –
-but instead the back of his hand found her arm and he traced her skin with his own, until his hand cupped around her shoulder and his fingers fell down her back in a gentleness she didn't know could exist in a man's hands. His touch sent goose-bumps immediately down her body and threatened to buckle her knees, but to her surprise she was unwavering. With a gentle pull of her shoulder backwards, he stepped into her, and the form of her body molded against his beautifully, his other arm moving to her other shoulder to brush away her hand carelessly. It fell away as if it were never an extension of her body in the first place.
"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen," he said, echoing the statement that hadn't failed to engrain itself in her mind twelve weeks previous, "and do not be sorry for it." The soft words cascaded down her shoulder in a warm breath, his beard tickling the supple skin of her collarbone. In a breath he nuzzled his face against her skin, and planting a soft kiss to the nape of her neck. She almost crumbled, and fell fully against his chest, letting her head fall back against his pecks. Her eyes floated closed and she moaned only slightly in ways that she had never fully comprehended as he kissed a trail down her shoulder.
She lifted a hand and her fingers found his hair, and she entwisted them in the auburn strands, feeling herself falling so far into his ministrations that she was sure there was no return. His other arm wrapped around her torso, his fingertips grazing over the skin of her abdomen, not stopping to notice the imperfections of her skin, nor caring. Once he had finished kissing her shoulder, he spun her to face him. He cradled her face in his hands and held her there for a brief moment, before she found herself dumbfoundedly unable to contain her words.
"I love you," she ministered in a whisper, her eyes fluttering closed again. She swallowed thickly again and released a shaky breath. She felt tears well up in her eyes and tried to bat them away with her lashes, but instead they spilled over and traced a glossy trail down her cheeks. She lifted her hands to his wrist and tipped her head in his hands, his own eyes brimming with tears. "I am so sorry that I love you," she felt her soul break as the years of the Jedi inside of them both screamed every form of protest imaginable. Her voice cracked into a sob, "I am so sorry."
He said nothing for a long moment, contemplating her words. They hung on the air like a thick blanket, and she felt herself begin to dismantle before him. They heat between their bodies was almost inconceivable. She wanted nothing more than to hold every part of him and know each ounce of his being; to let her hands explore the wonder of his finely tuned physique. She, however, was rock solid as he tipped her head back, his fingers enmeshing with the curls behind her ears and down her neck. Without blinking, he managed to remove the clip from her hair and toss it aside, her brown curls spilling down her shoulders and back.
"How unfortunate it is that I have the love of a woman as powerful as you," his voice floated over her like a hazy breeze, and she lost herself in his words before he started speaking again, "for even as I am standing here now, a Jedi Master, you dismantle me in ways that I have never before conceived possible." His eyes shifted with her own, "And I am not the least bit sorry for what I am about to say, despite what every instinct I possess protests," he gulped, "I believe I am in love with you as well, my dear." A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, "Though I am unsure how it happened."
She gasped, feeling her stomach pitch into her feet. "You…you are?" The disbelief in her voice sounded childish – as if she didn't know, while all along she had. It betrayed her sense of composure, but at this point she was beyond such hopefulness. Her eyes scanned his own for any trace of joking or jest, but one thing she knew about Obi-Wan Kenobi was when he was serious – and he was deadly serious, now.
He smiled at her, "If you had any doubts, you are more foolish than I thought."
She smiled at him in return, feeling a rush of peace cascade through her. She relaxed in his hands, his thumb tracing her skin lightly still. She wrapped one of her arms around his neck, the other she placed on his chest and let her fingertips wander of his skin, feeling newly empowered with their shard confession. She broke their stare and looked to the toned flesh of his chest, allowing her thoughts to wander only briefly before she looked back up at him. The warmth of their bodies pressed together tightened her skin in recognizable places beneath her wrappings, suddenly feeling cumbersome, but extremely necessary.
She was without thought for a moment, and then spoke. "Marry me," she blurted, unable to fully comprehend what she was thinking at the moment. It was only until she pulled her eyes to look back up at him that she felt the danger of her own words, "Let me love you in the most selfless way and marry me," he blinked, comprehending her statement, "I can think of no other way to love you any more than that."
He said nothing for a long moment, just staring at her, and finally he nodded, then lowered his head to kiss her. He kissed her sweetly, but when she gave a sigh and reached up on tip-toes to wrap her arms around his neck, he delved deeper and allowed his tongue to move along her lips. His hands fell away from her face and down her arms, until his hands rested on her hips and pulled her forward into him.
His beard tickled her lips as he pulled away and he inhaled a deep breath before releasing it. She ran her fingers through the air along his neck and he groaned slightly, nodding again, "Yes," he breathed, then smothered her again in another kiss that left her feeling faint and rendered her knees back into gelatin. He pulled back again and she fell back to the flats of her feet. "Yes. I will."
A smile painted onto her lips slowly, and he lowered his head to touch her forehead with his again. They broke into a fit of chuckles and giggles, and she melted farther into the mold of his body, if possible. "A most unorthodox proposal," he interjected between their laughter.
She chastely kissed him again and let her hand fall into place along his bearded jaw again. "I never said I was orthodox, Obi-Wan."
He flashed a smile at her. "I never presumed you were."
She kissed him again, perhaps deeper than she ever had before.
Summary: The dynamic of student and Master now broken, a student of the force contemplates her decisions about love for a Jedi Master she's forbidden to have - breaking any orthodox she's said to have possessed in the meantime. [Sequel to Diametrically Opposed]. [Kenobi/OC].