"Please, no more bantha jerky," Lorna groaned as she and Obi-Wan perused the selection at a butcher's stall. The afternoon heat magnified the aroma of the cured meats in the stall, and Lorna wrinkled her nose as Obi-Wan held up yet another package of the jerky.
"It's high in protein and low in cost," he replied with a smirk, pulling the package out of her reach before she could snatch it away.
"That doesn't mean we can't have some variety every once in a while." Her fingers traced the edge of a package of dewback steaks.
Her success with the pallie pie made her want to be more adventurous with her cooking. It might be fun to develop her new skills. Or perhaps she could make that lamta stew again–Obi-Wan had seemed to enjoy it particularly. She could picture them in the kitchen together, and maybe—
She let the package drop back into the cooler with a plop. What was the point? She'd be gone in a few days. There would be no more cooking in Obi-Wan's kitchen, no time for learning new hobbies. Why did she keep forgetting that?
Her focus needed to be on what they needed for the trip to Savareen.
They continued through the dome-roofed adobe structures of the commercial district, his hand occasionally finding the small of her back again as he guided her through the crowds. The contents of one of the shops caught her attention, pulling her out of her thoughts. There, on a display shelf next to a series of electric viodiddles, was an electro-harp.
Unable to help herself, she drifted inside to get a closer look.
She paused when she reached the harp. The watchful shopkeeper noticed her interest at once. "Do you play, dear?" the weathered gentleman asked, thick silver whiskers nearly covering his warm smile.
It was small, just like the one she remembered from the Temple, meant to rest in one's lap. The synth strings gleamed new, but the body was old and well-used, as were all the instruments in the shop, she noticed.
"I restored her myself," the shopkeeper beamed. "She's a tad worn, but she still plays beautifully. Would you like to try?"
Obi-Wan had moved closer, watching with interest as her hand hovered over the strings. A deep longing overcame her as a finger reached out and delicately plucked one. It had been so long since she'd last played, and yet even now, she knew her muscles would remember the notes, could picture the placement her hands should take for the opening chords of the hymn she had sung for Obi-Wan.
The lesson with the vessicore came to her. She let the longing come, acknowledging it, then letting it pass. Perhaps, if it were not too expensive, she would return to buy it with her earnings from the coaxium job. But she was not one to count her nunas before they hatched. There were plenty of more important things on which she could spend what little money she had now.
"No, just looking, thank you," she answered, returning the shopkeeper's smile.
"Is there anything else you want to purchase before we return home?" Obi-Wan asked as they left the music shop, his eyes lingering on the harp.
"Come to think of it, I saw a medical supply store up ahead," Lorna said, nodding down the street. "I want to grab some bacta patches for our medkit. After the vessicore, I realized we're running low."
"That's a good idea," he said as they headed in that direction.
Lorna quickly found the bacta patches, paid for them, and then stuffed them into her pack. When she turned around, Obi-Wan was gone. She looked up and down the store aisles but found no trace of him. Her concern mounted as she wandered outside, trying not to bump into anyone as she searched the street.
Reaching into the Force, she sought his presence–only to detect him directly behind her.
"Ready?" he asked as she whirled around. "If we leave now, we can make it home before dark."
It reminded her of that time during training when he'd completely masked his presence from her in the Force. Had he done that just now? She tempered her irritation at his mysterious disappearance.
"Where did you go? I was worried," she said, pulling her bag over her shoulders with a huff.
He held up a pack of dewback steaks, his mouth tugging into a smirk. "I thought you wanted to add more variety to our meals?"
Lorna set down her plate and leaned back in her chair, the hearty steak settling in her stomach, leaving her warm and satisfied.
"Alright, I'll admit it. It was nice to have the change in routine," Obi-Wan said, finishing his own portion and carrying their dishes to the sink.
She rolled her eyes to keep from telling him "I told you so" as she pulled the datapad closer, scanning through the information Usto had sent regarding the pickup. A sense of unease settled over her as she considered how little she actually knew about transporting coaxium. Had Barqul questioned her about anything beyond the temperature settings she'd observed on the compartment control panel that day, her ignorance would have been exposed.
Using the HoloNet to research the volatile substance was too risky; she did not doubt that coaxium was one of the keywords the Empire monitored. She would just have to continue faking it and let the Force guide her.
The reminder that Barqul was coming along for the trip made her stomach turn, the Force curdling with apprehension. Just thinking of the Falleen made her body go rigid. She didn't need the Force to know he was dangerous and untrustworthy. She would be keeping a very, very close eye on him.
Obi-Wan interrupted her thoughts with a cup of tea placed in front of her. "You're worrying again, aren't you?"
She set the datapad down, a guilty look on her face. "Just want to be prepared."
"And that is wise, given what we have to do," he said, sitting across from her with his own mug. "But why do I get the impression that's not all of it?"
"I don't trust Barqul," she admitted. "I have a bad feeling about him."
"Well, that makes two of us." He turned his mug idly, watching the steam rise as he stroked his beard with his other hand. "But Usto's insistence on securing his investment makes good business sense."
"That doesn't mean I have to like it. The way he looks at me, that stupid nickname…" She rolled her eyes.
"He's just trying to rattle you," he said, a hint of a smile on his face. "Don't let him."
"If I survived the patrons at Evo's, I suppose I can manage one Falleen, even if his pheromones give him an advantage," she replied.
"I thought you handled him rather brilliantly during the meeting." He sipped his tea, one eyebrow daringly raised at her. "I particularly enjoyed watching his face when you reminded him there was more to admire about you than your…shapely silhouette."
Deep in her stomach, embers flared to life. She had to keep her mouth from hanging agape at the boldness of his compliment. It still amazed her how her body reacted to Obi-Wan's attention after so many years of nothing but discomfort when anyone else admired her appearance. She knew she should redirect to less dangerous territory, but somehow the quiet intensity in his voice inspired a boldness of her own.
"Your performance as the whiskey connoisseur was a nice touch," she found herself saying with a coy smile over her tea. "I had no idea you were a man of such refined tastes."
"Some things are worth taking time to appreciate properly." His eyes didn't waver from hers, a keen observation in them that fanned the embers, the flames licking their way up her ribcage.
She broke eye contact first, glancing down into the green liquid in her cup and shifting slightly in her chair. The inside of the stuffy hut was suddenly much too warm, too confining.
"I think I will take my tea outside for a bit. Get some fresh air," she said, her chair scraping loudly on the stone floor as she stood. Just a moment to collect herself, to reset, that was all she needed.
The suns had set, but the sand beneath her feet was still warm, the heat not yet driven away by night's chill. Wandering past the hydroponic garden, she paused to check on their crops. Despite the Tuskens' attempt to destroy them, the plants had made a remarkable recovery. Leaves grew lush and supple, with new branches forming on the vines. Because she and Obi-Wan got them back into the nutrient solution in time, the plants had transformed from shriveled to thriving while they'd been away.
Lorna's fingers traced along a tender new leaf, its energy mingling with hers in the Living Force. In some ways, it reminded her of herself. She too had arrived here withered, adrift in an inhospitable environment, existing but not truly growing. But Obi-Wan had done more than simply offer her shelter. Like the nutrient-rich water that now fed these plants, his guidance had nourished her connection to the Force. With him, she was flourishing in ways she never imagined possible after the fall of the Order.
This tiny homestead became more than just a refuge. But there would only be a few more shared meals like the one they'd just finished. Just a few more quiet nights in the hut. She hadn't expected a sense of belonging to blossom here. Hadn't expected leaving to feel so much like another loss. With a sigh, she let her fingers slip from the leaf. She was supposed to be collecting herself, not dwelling on such sentimental thoughts.
She sensed Obi-Wan's approach before she heard him, his Force presence joining with hers and the plants. There was a vulnerability in his emotions, doubt where she normally sensed certainty.
Perplexed, she turned to face him.
In his arms, he cradled an object wrapped in thick cloth.
"There's something I want to give you," he murmured.
Though the cloth obscured it, Lorna was fairly certain she knew what it was by the size and shape.
With her heart drumming in her chest, she let him lead her up the gentle ridge to the large, flat sandstone where he had first started training and meditating with her. The smooth stone was still warm as she lowered herself onto it, setting down her tea so she could accept the item into her lap.
"I wanted to… well, I was thinking…" His fumbling for the right words was so endearingly shy she could scarcely reconcile it to his usual eloquence.
She pulled away the cloth, revealing the electro-harp that she saw in Mos Espa.
"Obi-Wan…" she gasped, her fingers gliding over the instrument as she fought to quiet her choiring heart.
"I saw how you looked at it in the shop, and I know how much music means to you, so I thought…"
Tears sprung to her eyes, a wide grin plastered across her face as she powered it up and plucked a few strings.
"How did you…?" It was her turn to stumble over her words. His disappearance in the marketplace. He'd returned to the music shop to buy the electro-harp. She stared at him in wonder, surprised at the sweetness of the gesture.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
All she wanted to do was to throw herself into his arms in gratitude, but she settled for watching the moonlight reflect silver in his eyes as he carefully gauged her reaction.
"Of course I do," she whispered, experimenting with the knobs and buttons which controlled the pitch, tone, and volume of the built-in amplifier. She ran through a series of scales and arpeggios to test the instrument's range and responsiveness.
"Then play something for me."
Adjusting the harp in her lap, she nodded and raised her hands to the strings. Too excited for the more somber Church of the Force hymns, she chose a lively Alderaanian cantata that she often played to warm up. The piece began simply but grew in intricate layers. A spirited melody, well-suited for her clear soprano voice, accompanied by the rhythmic harmonies of the harp's resonant sound.
She glanced up to find Obi-Wan watching her with an unexpected glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
"I know this one," he said with a smile. "The dance is a known favorite of the Queen of Alderaan."
"Dance?" She hadn't known there were specific steps meant to accompany the song.
"Oh, yes. Very popular during diplomatic functions in the royal court. I can still remember the steps."
"You?" She couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice. Her hands paused their movements on the strings. "The great Negotiator knows court dances?" she teased, her eyebrows raising in delighted surprise.
"I had to learn it on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan. A long story for a different time," he replied with a dignified air. He stood and held a hand out to her. "Shall I demonstrate?"
"I've never… I don't know the steps…" She scrambled for an excuse, not wanting to make a fool of herself, but she couldn't hide her amused smile.
"I'll show you," he said.
He flashed a charming grin, and the hopeful mirth in his eyes as they creased in the corners was impossible to turn down.
"Alright, but wait a moment." She activated the recording feature and repeated the song, letting the melody build to its full refrain before setting the harp to loop the sequence. When she set it down, its amplifier continued to play.
Obi-Wan once again offered his hand. "My lady," he said with a dignified bow, his other hand tucked at the small of his back. She suppressed a girlish giggle at his genteel performance.
Placing her hand in his, she rose to her feet. Their joined hands hung between them at shoulder height, palms pressed together. He guided her other hand to his shoulder then let his own find her waist. She stared down at her feet, unsure where to place them, and held her elbows at rigid ninety-degree angles.
"Relax, my dear. The dance isn't that formal." He was so close she could feel his breath at her temple.
"Sorry," she said, pursing her lips to hide her nervous smile. A jittery kind of excitement bubbled up from her chest. Force, this was a bad idea. Hadn't she come out here to put space between them, to quiet these feelings that were so distracting?
The hand at her waist drew her a little closer, his warm scent surrounding her. That buoyant feeling returned, her chest practically effervescent, driving away her inner protests.
He showed her how to move her feet with each beat, his hand pressed into the curve of her waist as he led her through the steps.
"Now twirl," he said, letting go of her waist and extending his arm for her to twist under. When he pulled her back to him, she swore she was even closer than before, his chest flush against hers. She missed a step, tripping over Obi-Wan's foot, nearly toppling them both over. She quickly apologized, but he recovered them both with a smile.
"You know, the last time I had to dance, my partner was a Thisspiasian," he said, seamlessly bringing her back to the rhythm. "Her tail kept getting in the way. I must have stepped on it half a dozen times."
The image was so absurd that she couldn't help but laugh. "You made that up, didn't you?"
"It's completely true. And I couldn't keep her long beard from getting in my mouth. It was a disaster."
She threw her head back with another burst of laughter. "You're just trying to make me feel better about my terrible dancing."
"Is it working?"
"Obi-Wan!" she exclaimed, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.
"Just think of it like lightsaber forms," he said, giving her another twirl. "One, two, three, four…" With each step, he counted, just like when they'd sparred in the canyon. "Let the Force guide you."
She felt foolish for not thinking to use the Force. Closing her eyes, she drew on her connection to it, anticipating his movements and executing her own with a touch more grace. It flowed with her own natural rhythm, and their dance became more fluid.
"You see? There's hope for you yet."
She opened her eyes to give him a pointed look. "Must you always be so smug?"
His grin turned wicked as he spun her out suddenly, making her gasp in surprise. When he pulled her back in, a strong hand splayed across her back, dipping her low. Her heart stammered as he held her suspended there, eyes locked on hers.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but a flash of light overhead drew both of their attention. A fleeting streak of green disappeared into the darkness just as Lorna looked up. He pulled her back to standing as another vivid bolt cut across the night sky.
"A meteor shower," he said, gazing upwards.
Their dance slowed as their focus shifted to the sky, but Obi-Wan didn't pull away, instead easing their lively steps to a steady sway. She followed his lead, catching her breath as another flash of green briefly illuminated a section of the sky.
"I can't remember the last time I had a chance to see one," she said.
"It's the nickel and magnesium that gives them their color, you know," he told her. "The metals burn green when the meteors enter the atmosphere."
"I didn't know that," she said, her feet shuffling in the sand.
The harp stopped playing mid-song as the looping sequence ended. For a moment, the only sound in the sudden quiet was a distant wind and the gentle chirping of insects. Obi-Wan made no move to let go of her, his body still swaying to an imaginary beat.
Lorna tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, self-consciously smoothing down her stubborn waves. She kept her eyes on the stars, too afraid of what she might think if her focus wandered anywhere else. She wouldn't think about the heat of his body or his breath on her cheek, wouldn't think about how this was not even close to how Jedi were supposed to behave. Maybe she would just stop thinking altogether and savor the moment of peace, knowing such moments would be rare in the days to come.
Several meteors entered the atmosphere at once, their neon trails blazing across the black sky. The light cast a green glow on the sands, almost as if she had ignited her lightsaber, before the meteors shattered into sparks and faded into darkness. Her lips parted in awe. She'd never seen anything like it.
"It's so beautiful," she breathed.
"Beautiful," Obi-Wan whispered.
Her gaze left the sky only to discover his wasn't on it at all. He looked at her, blue-gray eyes raw and searching as another burst of green sparkled on their surface. The sight devastated her, the flames inside her burning as hot as the fragments of meteors above them.
He leaned in until their foreheads pressed together and the soft hairs of his beard brushed her mouth, then stopped, as if his self-control were still hanging on by a thread. Giving her a chance to pull away.
There was no hope of that now. The hand on his shoulder gently squeezed, a silent plea.
Then his lips touched hers.
She froze, blood roaring in her ears as he kissed her with such restraint she might have mistaken it for timidity were it not for the surging eagerness she sensed in the Force. Her head swam, her body going pliant in his arms as she slowly melted into him, finally returning the kiss.
Only for him to sharply draw back, releasing her and stepping away so quickly she almost stumbled. Cold reality came crashing down on her.
"Lorna, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" he said hoarsely. His hand raked across his face, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"No, you're right–"
"We can't–"
"Of course, it was a mistake." Her last word punctuated the hollow space between them, a harsh finality to it that she immediately regretted.
But it could be nothing else. She knew that.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his features marred by a frown so deep it hurt her to look at him. Her hand flew to the back of her neck, the ache returning with a vengeance.
He turned on his heels, heading back to the hut.
"Obi-Wan, wait…" she said, following him. Wait for what? What did she think she was going to say? They both knew they'd crossed a line.
Once inside, he began packing things into his bag. "You go ahead and get some rest. I'll meet you in Mos Eisley tomorrow."
Her face paled. "Where are you going?"
"It is clear that…space is needed." His eyes flickered to their beds. She imagined trying to fall asleep, listening to the sound of his breathing mere feet away, the memory of his lips on hers still fresh in her mind. She winced, hating that he had a point.
"But the Comet… Barqul…" The possibility that she would have to do this without him, when she'd been expecting his help, made her breaths come shorter.
His eyes finally met hers as he secured his bag on his back. "I promise, I will be there. But tonight…" A muscle worked in his jaw as he looked away. "This is for the best."
Before she could protest, he strode for the door and opened it. He paused on the threshold, and she thought he might say more, but the door hissed closed, and then he was gone.
