Even with the protective goggles to shield his eyes, Obi-Wan could only see a few meters in front of him. He had wrapped his cloak around the lower half of his face, but despite that, sand grated in his mouth from the particles that had found their way in. Lorna sat huddled under her cloak on the eopie while Obi-Wan led it on foot through the sand-blasted dunes. The storm had made it impossible for the beast to navigate safely with both riders.

If they did not find shelter soon, their situation would become dire. In his time here, he'd seen sandstorms that clouded the air so thickly, anyone not wearing the right oxygen equipment would suffocate. And with night approaching, the cold would become an issue and visibility would soon be nonexistent. Both of them had their senses flung wide into the rolling dunes and masses of rock, searching for a cave or structure in which they could find refuge.

He ignored the prickling of sand on his face, like needles as the wind hurled it onto his exposed skin, keeping his focus on the terrain. Another violent gust tore across the desert, far stronger than the ones before, nearly knocking him off balance.

Then—there. A small cave, no more than two klicks east of them. He called back to Lorna but the howling of the wind swept his voice away. She simply nodded and pointed east. She'd sensed it too.

Through the blinding fury of the storm, the land appeared as a shifting, featureless wasteland, but the Force guided his steps until the faint outline of a jagged rock formation loomed ahead. The rocky outcrop jutted from the earth, its edges weathered by wind and sand. The cave was small but unmistakable, the entrance a blurred shadow in the rock's surface.

They halted outside and Lorna dismounted. Together they guided the eopie toward the cave opening.

"It's not very deep," he called over the howling storm, crouching to examine the interior, "but the storm is worsening. This will have to do for now."

The cave's mouth opened into a shallow shelter, wide enough for the eopie to settle near the entrance while leaving room for both of them to sit against the back wall. Beyond that, the cave continued deeper into the rock, but the passage narrowed until it became nothing more than a dark crevice, too small for either of them to squeeze through.

"Come on, girl," Obi-Wan coaxed the eopie, guiding her to lay down across the cave's entrance. The beast grunted but complied, providing them with a living barrier against the howling wind. At least here, tucked into the accessible portion with their mount blocking most of the storm's fury, they had some shelter from the elements.

He looked out past the eopie at the fading light. With no time to gather what sparse kindling might be found in these wastes, they would have no fire tonight. It was going to be a long, cold night.

Lorna pulled her goggles back on. "Perhaps I could search nearby for something to burn..." she said, though without much conviction.

His hand moved to stop her, coming to rest on her shoulder. He felt her muscles tense where his hand rested, so he let go. "Save your strength," he said. "You'll need it for tomorrow's training."

She hesitated, as if she might argue, then sighed in resignation, abandoning the goggles on her pack. The small space suddenly felt far too confining as she settled against the side furthest from him, drawing her knees up to her chest.

He slumped heavily against the cave wall as he sat down. The exhaustion from trudging through the sand for hours finally caught up with him. The eopie plopped it's head down to rest between them, snorting in commiseration.

"Well, this is just lovely," Lorna muttered, her features pulled into a frown that had been present since they'd set out that morning. "Are you certain we needed to come this far into the Dune Sea for my training?"

"It could be worse. I could be taking you to the swamps of Nal Hutta," he said, his mouth cracking into a smirk. Maybe he could undo his unwise decisions from the previous night if he pretended it hadn't happened at all, keeping up their usual playful needling.

Lorna only glared at him, then crossed her arms and looked away. "You still haven't told me why we're going there."

"I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," he answered, his tone still teasing.

She started absently rubbing the back of her neck, and his humor faded. She caught him watching and immediately dropped her hand into her lap.

He cleared his throat. "I want to continue to help you confront your fears. Part of the lesson is that you will not know what to expect." It was true. If Lorna knew what he was looking for, his plan was unlikely to work. "You'll just have to trust me."

Her eyes narrowed slightly but then the lines of her frown softened. "I trust you."

He responded with a tired smile, then dug some strips of bantha jerky out of his pack. He reached over and handed her a piece. The eopie grunted in indignation, so he gave one to her too. The wind howled outside, but the unspoken tension between them made the cave feel unnaturally quiet.

The moments next to the fire the night before had replayed in his mind on an endless loop. A good part of their journey had been spent rationalizing them. He had offered her comfort as any teacher would to a student in distress. The massage was practical, a technique to relieve her chronic physical pain. Each attempt to minimize what had happened crumbled under the weight of a truth he had been avoiding.

His heart had ached watching her finally confront those painful childhood memories, and he knew he could not let her suffer alone. But if that was all it was, why had taking her hand felt as natural as breathing? Why had his touch lingered longer than necessary when he'd tried to heal her pain?

The truth was, he had wanted to be closer to her in ways that had gone beyond the boundaries of a teacher's compassion. And when she had leaned into his touch, when his hands on her neck had drawn that soft sound of pleasure from her, the surge of desire that had nearly shattered his self-control had nothing to do with compassion.

Most damning of all had been his choice to leave his mind unguarded in that moment. Rather than shield himself, rather than maintain the appropriate distance between them, he had allowed her to sense his feelings. Had wanted her to sense them. Even knowing where such honesty might lead them, knowing the dangers of attachment, some part of him had yearned for that connection. He had allowed that part of himself to indulge, no matter how unwise.

Her encouraging responses only further threatened the balance between them. He had felt her confusion, her awakening attraction, echoing his own. Her reactions betrayed her own conflict. For him to be the catalyst for such conflict in her, when he was supposed to be helping her overcome it—

I failed Anakin by not recognizing his attachment, and I'm failing her by developing one of my own.

The dark thought filled him with guilt. He tried to detach himself from it so he could observe it and let it pass, but it embedded itself in his mind like claws painfully sinking into flesh. He must not distract her further with his lack of restraint. In their remaining time together, he would focus solely on completing her training and helping her with her agreement with the Pykes.

He closed his eyes and reached for the Force, willing it to wash away his treacherous impulses. He thought of Lorna and acknowledged the feelings that arose. He gathered these sensations, these moments of weakness, and tried to release them into the Force. But some continued to cling to him, like the grains of sand he couldn't shake loose from his clothing.

Irritated by his own inadequacy, he opened his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The eopie was peering up at him, her head still resting on the cave floor. He could have sworn there was judgment in her large, dark eyes.

If you hadn't kicked that bucket of milk on me that day, none of this would have happened, he thought accusingly at the beast. She only blinked at him placidly, as if to tell him his predicament was entirely of his own making.

In the fading light, he could still make out Lorna across from him, also attempting to meditate. She shifted uncomfortably in the confined space of the cave, first tucking her left leg under her right, then switching. Evidently, she wasn't having much luck either. Perhaps his training wasn't helping her as much as he'd thought.

He remembered what she'd told him about finding peace through the Temple Conservatorium. Music. This, at least, seemed an appropriately distant way to proceed with guiding her.

"You mentioned that music helped you meditate," he said, pulling himself out of his brooding. "Perhaps that would serve you better than traditional meditation right now."

She looked up at him, eyebrows flying up in surprise, then settling into an expression that was more guarded. "It's been a while since I've tried…"

He glanced up, gesturing to the cave interior and then to the sand-blasted cave entrance. "There is little else we can do right now. And you need not fear any judgment from me, if that is your concern. I'm only passably capable of carrying a tune." He tried a self-deprecating smile. The corners of her lips twitched slightly.

"Alright."

She closed her eyes and took a breath.

A clear, lilting soprano emerged from her lips, soaring easily over the noise outside. Her natural speaking voice tended towards a deeper, velvety sound, and the contrast both surprised and delighted him. Focusing on the lyrics, he found they unmistakably belonged to one of the Church of the Force hymns she had mentioned.

How lovely is your dwelling place, Cosmic Force
My soul yearns, even faints, for my Temple's halls
My heart and my flesh cry out for the Living Force
Even the sparrow has found a home
And the porg a nest for herself
Where she may have her young
A place near your Light
O Force eternal, my guide and truth

As she sang, the Force began to ripple around her. He observed in quiet wonder as the Force responded to her song, drawn to her like a ship caught in a tractor beam. The melody seemed to weave through the Force itself, and Obi-Wan found his own Force signature responding, reaching for the tranquility produced by the intermingling. He'd never known music to have such an effect on him. Now he understood why she spoke of it as a path to inner calm.
Blessed are those who dwell in balance
They are ever one with you
Blessed are those whose strength is in you
Whose hearts are set on peace

In the dim light filtering through the cave entrance, he watched her, entranced. Serenity marked her features as she sang, her eyelids gently closed, dark lashes resting against freckled cheeks. Her chin tilted slightly upward as she projected her voice, the muscles in her slender neck moving to create the sound. He made himself close his eyes to stop the direction of his thoughts, forcing his focus back to the melody.

As they pass through Darkness
They make it a place of Light
They go from strength to strength
Till each finds unity with the Force.

His breathing slowed, matching the rhythm of her song. Her voice ascended in an expressive crescendo, and it seemed as if the song's climax dispelled some of the dark thoughts that still hung over him. Even the stubborn ache of his old griefs seemed to quiet under the gentle power of her voice.

Feel our presence, eternal Force
Flow through us like wind through trees
Guide your faithful ones
Look with favor on your chosen.

The final notes faded into the night air, but their echo resonated in the Force around them. Obi-Wan felt more centered than he had all day. But the feeling faded as he slowly opened his eyes into total darkness and his awareness returned to the reality of the cold, miserable cave. With the sandstorm, nightfall had brought even more chill than it usually did, and he found himself drawing his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The wind continued to whistle through the cave entrance, bringing with it occasional gusts of frigid air.

Using the Force, he enhanced his sight enough to make out the opposite side of the cave. Lorna huddled against the wall, her limbs visibly shivering, even with her own cloak drawn tight.

"I c-can't sing anymore," she said, teeth chattering. "It's t-too cold."

"It was truly lovely though," he answered, trying to keep the tremor out of his own voice. "You have a unique gift."

She smiled, and even through the darkness he knew it was that smile. His smile.

She curled further into herself against another gust of wind.

A few moments passed as they both endured the chill, the only sounds the storm outside and the snoring of the eopie between them. She, at least, seemed unphased by the cold wind. He watched Lorna shift positions repeatedly, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground.

Oh, blast it all.

"Lorna..." He hesitated, knowing he was about to suggest exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. "My dear, come sit by me."

A pause.

"Are you sure?"

No. He wasn't. Just when he'd resolved to do everything he could to maintain appropriate distance, here he was inviting her closer. But he couldn't very well let her spend the night shivering against cold stone.

"Yes."

When she rose, he held a hand out to her. She took it, letting him guide her to him in the darkness, carefully stepping over the eopie's neck. She nestled into his right side, tucking her knees up against his thigh and resting her head in the crook of his neck. His arms encircled her shoulders, pulling her in close. Why did her soft warmth have to be so welcoming?

"Thank you…" Her voice faltered almost imperceptibly. "…Ben."

It was no use fighting it. His old nickname—it was a mask to hide behind. It might serve him well in the marketplace, but with Lorna, masks seemed pointless now. She made his burdens feel lighter, made his walls feel weaker. Her tenderness when she'd offered to cut his hair, her patient understanding when he opened up about Anakin the first time.

Her smile.

She made him feel less like Ben the recluse and more like Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The truth was, he would never be Ben to her, and he didn't want to be. Not anymore. And while feelings could be released to the Force, the truth lived within it.

"Obi-Wan is fine…when we're alone."

He smoothed back a few errant strands of her waves that were tickling his nose, then rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Obi-Wan…" She said it slowly, as if she just wanted to hear it out loud. "There's something I've been thinking about."

"And what is that?"

"After I finish this job for the Pykes…I still want to go to Jabiim to try and find Niko and Sinya, but…"

His heart skipped a beat, already sensing the direction of her thoughts.

"Regardless of what happens… I think I'd like to come back. To finish my training."

He closed his eyes, wrestling with the conflict that was rekindled within him anew. There was a question behind her words, an unspoken hope that he knew he should extinguish, before it became uncontrollable.

Put an end to it now, he told himself.

But the words wouldn't come. He couldn't tell her to stay away, couldn't bear the thought of severing their connection. Nor could he tell her what he had discovered in his heart. That he wanted her here. That he did not prefer his solitude, and that his life had only improved since she came into it.

"Let's just focus on the present."

The platitude was a feeble evasion and he knew it, but he was too paralyzed with his own clashing emotions to think of a better response. Lorna stiffened beside him, though she didn't pull away. He sensed a flicker of hurt before her shields flew up, preventing any further revelations about her current state.

He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Try to get some rest."

Eventually, her breathing deepened and evened out as sleep claimed her, though his own thoughts continued to chase themselves in circles until exhaustion finally pulled him under as well.

Hours later he awoke to dawn's first light streaking into the cave. Lorna still slumbered against him, her face peaceful with sleep. Despite the ache and stiffness in his muscles from the hard cave floor, he remained still, unwilling to disturb her. During the night one of her hands had found its way to his chest where some of his tunic was bunched into her fist, as if she were afraid he might leave. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, the fluttering of her eyelids while she was caught up in a dream. In the morning light, he noticed grains of sand still clinging to her cheekbones.

Before he could stop himself, he reached down and brushed it off with his thumb, cupping the side of her face with his hand.

Leave her be, he commanded silently. But his hand ignored him, lingering to trace the constellation of freckles across her skin, to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. One finger trailed the elegant line of her jaw, marveling at the smoothness of her skin, the delicate symmetry of her features.

Stars, she was so beautiful.

And he…Force help him, he was fighting a battle he had already lost.

This song served as inspiration for how I imagine Lorna sounds singing Church of the Force hymns.