Well before the sun rose on the Jedi Temple, Asajj was awake, showered, and dressed. She had slept deeply ensconced in her lover's arms, but her confession mere hours ago had lingered in her mind until it forced her awake. She had spoken true when she had whispered the words in his ear through her post-orgasmic haze. And his responding admission had lightened her heart beyond imagining.
So why did she not feel as happy as she should have?
Now she sat in the same chair she had once occupied when these nighttime visitations had first started. Rather than look upon the sleeping Jedi with apprehension and no shortage of confusion as to why she was there in the first place, now her gaze was serenely contemplative. Looking at him as he continued to slumber (she'd learned long ago that when he was relaxed he could sleep through a mag-lev train roaring past him), she thought about how quickly and naturally her loathing of the man had grown first to grudging respect, then to friendship and eventually to love.
As a Sith assassin, Dooku had taught her to use her emotions to her advantage, that they were tools to be used for strength, not sinful weaknesses that needed to be stamped out. Of course, he had never taught her about love. That was one emotion that was considered a weakness. To love something was to make oneself vulnerable; enemies would quickly exploit that love and leave one drowning in grief rather than making use of the righteous fury that accompanied loss. And so Dooku had instructed her in the ways to turn her rage, despair, and fear into weapons as potent as her lightsabers. But never love. Not that she had had much time or concern for it. But that was before she was betrayed, left to die alone on a world she had no connection to by the man she had considered a surrogate father after her birth father and first Master had both been taken from her.
Because she hadn't been alone when Dooku turned on her. Despite all evidence to the contrary, only Obi-Wan Kenobi had believed her to still be alive after her defeat in the Coruscant underworld. Only he had searched for her while Dooku experimented on her, seeking a way to enhance her rage and turn her into a more ferocious monster than she had been. Only he had held out hope that she wasn't truly evil.
Asajj almost smiled at the memory. A new question had formed during her silent introspection, one that had begun to bother her almost as much as why she wasn't happy after assuring Obi-Wan of her love and being reassured of his for her: why had he searched for her in the first place? Even if he had sensed she was still alive, why would he care so fiercely that he would track her down to the backwaters of the Outer Rim with Anakin Skywalker in tow? At first she'd thought it was just because she still represented a threat to the Jedi and the Republic and he had wanted to be sure she could never do harm to anyone again. But then she remembered his face as he held her when her life had begun to ebb. He had been genuinely sad at the thought of her passing. When he'd thought that she finally did die, he'd wrapped her in his robe (she'd known it was his when she woke on the Bright Flight) and ordered her to be given a proper funeral. Why would he do that for an enemy who had shown him nothing but contempt and disgust?
Asajj shook her head when she realized she was scowling. This was not how she wanted to start her morning. Pushing the troubling questions to the back of her mind (because she would indeed ask them later), she instead focused on Obi-Wan. Perhaps it was just the depth and strength of the bond they shared that made her think so, but looking at him now she couldn't deny that he was a particularly beautiful man. His bearded face shone with kindness and intelligence even in sleep. His hair was still mussed from their earlier activities and only added a more primal sexuality to him; he would probably blush if she ever told him that. Even the scars that littered his body did little to detract from his appearance. She knew most of them, having put a few on his skin herself, but the ones on his back not from her fingers were especially mysterious. She had wanted to ask about them before but she'd always been distracted by masterful caresses or scintillating kisses.
A deep sigh from the bed brought Asajj out of her thoughts. Obi-Wan shifted and reached one hand out to where she had lain only moments before. When it closed only on sheets and air, his head lifted from its pillow. She smiled at his sleepy look of confusion before brushing his mind with hers. I'm still here, darling.
He turned to her with a smile; she would never get tired of seeing him look at her like that. Not that she would admit it, of course. I'm never going to wake before you, am I? he replied. I'd almost thought you'd pulled one of your famous disappearing acts again.
She didn't miss the hint of sadness in his tone. She rejoined him on the bed, sitting on the edge and letting him grasp one of her hands for a chivalrous kiss. You thought I'd leave without saying goodbye? After last night?
You do have a tendency to be unpredictable, my sweet. There was no accusation, no resentment. Just a simple statement of fact. The spark in his eyes also kept her from being completely offended; if he truly thought that she would hurt him by vanishing after telling him she loved him he wouldn't look at her with such unabashed love and joy.
Her lips turned up in a half-wicked smile as she nuzzled his cheek with hers. Unpredictability can sometimes be a good thing. Or have I not already proven that several times over, my love?
His cheeks colored beneath his beard, both at the new endearment and her less-than-chaste meaning. That you have, dearest. He sat up and ran his free hand down her shoulder to her wrist. I've got a new assignment today. Back in the Outer Rim. I don't know when I'll be able to see you again, but – his arms wrapped around her thin frame and pulled her close to his chest, his mouth close to the curve of her neck – "I love you, my darling."
Asajj tensed for a brief moment before relaxing into his embrace and returning it wholeheartedly. There was still a tiny part of her that waited for the illusion to shatter, for a squad of clones or Jedi to burst through the door and thank Obi-Wan for his role in this elaborate ruse to catch her. But then she felt along their bond and knew he was sincere. "This isn't goodbye, Obi-Wan," she breathed against him. "I'm too stubborn to die just yet, and you're too foolhardy to be a victim of a blaster bolt. Too much dumb luck." She reluctantly pulled herself away from his comforting aura, lightly combing his hair back down with her fingers. His eyes fluttered closed at the touch. "You'll come back to me, my dear. You're the only one who's never let me down in that regard."
Obi-Wan brushed the backs of his fingers up her cheek and over the side of her smooth head, ignoring the Sith tattoos still emblazoned on her scalp. "I'll do my best to retain that trust, my sweet."
"You'd better," she replied with a playful grin. "Because if you don't, I know how to find you."
"That you do," he laughed before pulling her close one more time. "Stay safe, Asajj."
A chaste kiss to one corner of his mouth and she was at the window, one booted foot on the edge like so many times before. "Don't I always, my love?"
He remained staring at the window long after she'd gone. He couldn't deny the happiness that settled in his chest every time he looked at her or thought of her now. He'd never felt as if he'd been lacking before; he'd always had the camaraderie of and sense of community with the Jedi to keep him company. For the better part of his life he'd had the tutelage of Qui-Gon Jinn and the apprenticeship of Anakin; those two were more family to him than anyone else he'd ever met.
And then Asajj had come into his life. At first she'd been little more than another enemy. As he'd come to learn more about her, however, the more he'd believed that she could be saved from the lure of the Dark Side. That belief had led him into obsession after Anakin had reported her dead. He still didn't fully understand why he had staunchly refused to accept his former Padawan's report, but he was now glad he did. If he had taken Anakin at his word, Asajj Ventress would still be in the service of Count Dooku and in all likelihood beyond all redemption. Dooku would have used her as a second Grievous and sent her to destroy entire planets just as she had the moon of Ohma-D'un.
He gave thanks to the Force that that fate had been avoided by his stubbornness. Perhaps that was when their bond had first began to form. Or perhaps it had started even earlier than that. Whatever the case, she had since renounced her allegiance to the Dark Side and now occupied a very special place in his heart.
Which led to his current problematic situation. He wasn't lying when he said he loved her, when he whispered his fantasies into her ear in the dark of the night. He'd loved before, had loved deeply, but this was something entirely different. All those previous times, he had given serious thought to leaving the Order if the woman in question had asked, but fate had had other plans.
Cerasi and Siri had been his first loves. Cerasi had died in his arms just after he had decided to abandon the Jedi. Siri had chosen the Order, as had Obi-Wan, over their own wants. She had died shortly afterwards as well. And then he had met Satine. Looking back now, he knew he had truly loved her. But they had their own destinies and paths to walk, neither to intertwine the way they had hoped. When they had met again during the war, that spark had still been there, but Obi-Wan knew that he had moved beyond romantic love for the Duchess. He cherished the memory of their time together, but that was it. He had still loved her, but in a different way than the impulsive passion of youth. Her death had still hit him hard, however. After he had defeated Maul for good, he grieved for her as another life that should not have been so cut short.
Obi-Wan had begun to wonder if perhaps the problem lay with him that everyone he loved and had been loved by had suffered tragic deaths: Qui-Gon, Cerasi, Siri, Satine. And all of them had died in his arms. It was like some great cosmic joke at his expense, one that he didn't find the least bit funny.
Then there was Asajj. He had held her as she died as well, but had returned from the dead (or had she really been dead at all?). He would be lying if he said he had never felt an attraction to her before her appearance in his bedroom all those months ago; he had simply been able to push it aside and remember who and what they both were. But when they started talking, really talking, he had begun to see a side to the former assassin that he was sure no one else even imagined existed: a passionate, sensitive, gifted, beautiful woman who wanted only to spare herself further heartbreak by any means necessary. Somehow, the Force had seen fit to join them together with a bond so profound and strong that he doubted it would ever be broken by anything short of outright betrayal, something he fully intended to spare Asajj even if it meant his life.
He did love her deeply. He had been honest when he'd told Master Yoda that he was happy with her. And yet, in his happiness with Asajj, he felt as if he were betraying everything he had ever believed, the vows of the Jedi he had sworn to uphold. He felt very much a hypocrite every time he rendezvoused with his lover; he was always reminding Anakin of the danger of such relationships, always reprimanding him when he spoke of Padme too fondly. But then he turned right around and found himself in love with a woman who had once sworn to have his head. What did that say about him as a teacher, as a Jedi, as a friend?
That you are a failure at each of them, a voice hissed inside his head. He knew that voice well: it was his own, the one he reserved for his moments of guilt and self-loathing. Who are you to deny Anakin such happiness while you indulge yourself?
He tried to shut out that voice, but he couldn't shut out the plain truth: he was indeed a failure in every regard.
So what do you intend to do about it? You've got two choices: the Order, or your lover.
Were those really his only choices? Master Yoda had all but approved of the relationship, so long as he didn't allow it to override his judgment and interfere with his duties as a Jedi and member of the High Council. Perhaps he should speak to the Grand Master before he left to give voice to his concerns. The Jedi Order had been his whole life, but the Force seemed to think he was in need of something else with Asajj. Could he have both, or would he have to choose? Turning his back on Asajj was absolutely out of the question; he would not let her drown in grief again, let alone by his own doing. Leaving the Order was also not an option. At least not willingly. If his relationship with Asajj were to be discovered, he would surely be stripped of his status, his title, and thrown out of the Order. Could he truly live with that?
Stop it, he chastised himself. These thoughts aren't productive. Get your mind ready for your mission, not personal problems.
Shoving everything else aside, he centered himself in the Force before dressing. The Force can never make things easy, can it? he thought wistfully. At least once he met up with Anakin and Rex everything would be simpler…for a time, at least.
Horror. Betrayal. Anger. Helplessness. Fury.
It was actually amazing that no one in the Temple sensed the swirl of emotions clashing together like thunderheads in Anakin Skywalker's quarters. A small part of him was astonished at the ferocity of his feelings; the larger part was too far beyond caring.
How could this have happened? How did Ventress not only manage to sneak into the Temple, but into Obi-Wan's bedroom? How was she even alive? How did she manage to overpower a Jedi Master in such a way? Anakin had seen the look in his mentor's eyes when the harpy was still on top of him, had felt the honesty in his former Master's Force signature as he whispered those once-sacred, now-desecrated words to the Sith witch. It was…indisputably real. But Obi-Wan would never voluntarily submit to such "base emotions", unless under extreme duress.
Ventress had poisoned him, or else had put him under some kind of dark spell. It was the only way Anakin could make sense of what he had seen and heard.
His emotions came together into an almost-solid thing as his brain put the pieces into place. Ventress had cheated death yet again somehow and used some kind of illusion spell to get past the Temple's security. She had stolen into Obi-Wan's room and used dark magicks to control him in body and mind. And she had used some kind of spell or poison to…he couldn't even complete the thought lest the image of her violating his Master resurface in his mind's eye.
She had accomplished her goal. She had hated Obi-Wan since they first met. She'd always had it out for him. Obi-Wan was always naïve when it came to Ventress; he had thought she could be redeemed, that she just needed someone to help her heal from the loss of her first Master. But Anakin had always known the truth of her: she was evil made flesh. She would never relinquish the Dark Side. She would always search for a way to torture and maim anyone she saw as a threat. She did it to Obi-Wan and Alpha once. But that had been physical.
This was her final revenge. Whatever she had blamed Obi-Wan for all this time, now she had gotten her payback. This wasn't some mere torture of the flesh like a lightwhip across the back or a vicious beating with hands and feet. What she had done was the ultimate violation of body and soul. She had torn a Jedi Master from his convictions and his faith in the Code.
Anakin didn't blame Obi-Wan; how could he blame the victim of such a heinous crime? Whatever she'd done to him, he wasn't to blame. Ventress would pay dearly this. But how best to bring her to justice and free Obi-Wan from her hold?
With a mind clear of confusion and blind rage, Anakin sat on his bed and contemplated every possible option…including ones that the Council may not entirely approve of. He would see the witch burn for everything she had done, everyone she had made suffer, but most especially for this. He didn't care if anyone else thought him in the wrong for wanting revenge. If anyone else had seen what he'd seen, they would surely do the same. It was the only way to deal with Ventress for good. The sooner the galaxy was free of her, the better.