Title: Just Some Kindness
* * * * * You press several keys on your data pad, releasing your current botany assignment. You press several more keys, sending the assignment to the teacher. You’re a good student, you turn in your homework, you do your assignments, and for the most part, you do well on the tests in most of your classes. You are, though, pretty shy. As you always have been most of your life. Your master calls it your inner strength, like Master Yaddle, who waits for all things to be present before she makes a decision. You just smile and nod when your master says such things, you know better. You’re just shy. You keep your hair short, like the male Padawans, and wear your braid hanging loosely over your shoulder. You hate to draw any kind of attention to yourself, you prefer the confines of your quarters and the conservatory late at night to the busy lounge areas and other recreation areas in the Temple. But your favorite place to go is your special spot on the roof of one of the towers. You know that many of the female Padawans, as few as there are, snicker and whisper about you behind your back, but you ignore it. What do you care if they think you look like a boy? It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. If you learn anything at the Jedi Temple, you learn tolerance. You can see that Mirna is glaring at you over her shoulder, just enough to make that now infamous gloating face she makes just before she does something really mean. You blink at her, but her face doesn’t change. You reach out with the Force, trying to see what she’s up to, but she seems to, this time, have her mind elsewhere. You glance over your shoulder, to see what it is she’s staring at. Behind you, just over your shoulder sits the newest student in the class. Padawan Skywalker. He’s a handsome Padawan, a warm face and pretty blue gems of eyes. You think he’s about your age, around seventeen. He’s tall, lean and rather sculpted. You only know that because you ran into him the other day in the hall. Literally. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you see Padawan Skywalker grin, on one side of his face at you, and you bow your head and refocus on the lecture. Mirna sees your exchange with Skywalker, and she smirks, a look of pure mockery on her face. You can almost hear her thoughts…You really think he was looking at you??? You know, of course, that he must have been looking at Mirna, only because she is one of the most beautiful girls in the Temple. Everyone looks at Mirna. The instructor is discussing atomic biology in some plant you don’t remember the name of, but you try very hard to focus on his lecture. A blinking light on your data pad draws your attention away from the boring lecture. You press a button, releasing the blinking icon. It’s a symbol for a private message. You keep your lip stiff, because you know what it will say before you even open it. It will be some kind of taunt from Mirna. There is no sender, just a few short words. Someone has a crush on you. The words blink on the screen. You press a couple more buttons to see who sent you the message, but the sender remains anonymous. A strange feeling wells up inside you. You keep your guard up, because you know that this is some kind of trick, something to hurt you. You put up all your defenses. Who would do this? You scan the room, looking for someone with a guilty look on their face. Your normal teasers seem innocent. No one is demonstrating any signs of sending this. Why? You key back into the pad and return it to the original sender. A return comes back in a few moments. Because, you are pretty. You blink at the words, unable to comprehend them. Rarely does anyone ever call you pretty. Even on your best day, pretty is never a part of anyone’s vocabulary when describing you. You determine that this has to be some kind of mean joke someone is playing on you, so you key in a response. Please stop this, I do not appreciate this kind of joke. You send back. The reply comes in a moment. Who said anything about a joke? Please, this is not funny. Stop. I do not appreciate being the butt of anyone’s jokes. You write back. You shake your head in disgust. This is not a joke. I promise. I do not believe you. You reply as you shake your head again, and turn off your data pad. Anger consumes you as you thrash your arm a bit too wildly across the desk, knocking off your pile of data cards. “Padawan, is there a problem?” The instructor asks. You hesitate before commenting. Sure there is a problem, I just want to get out of the room. “I am not feeling well, sir, may I leave?” You glance at the other students in the room, looking again to see if any are watching you, looking a bit guilty. Still, none even show the slightest bit of guilt on their face. “Of course, Padawan.” You scoop up your data pads and stand, silent as you leave the room. “She probably needs a haircut,” one of Mirna’s friends remarks as you leave. You let the comment roll off your back as you head out of the door. You walk down the halls of the Temple, avoiding anyone and everyone. You creep through the back halls that you know better than nearly anyone else in the Temple, and head for the rooftop balcony. In just a few minutes, you are alone on the balcony. You take a seat in your favorite spot, watching the passing transports and listening to the sounds of the living city. What if it wasn’t a joke, you think to yourself. What if? You push away the thoughts. You knew better than to think like that. You knew a long time ago that you are destined to be alone for the rest of your life, studying the Jedi ways in solitude. You preferred solitude to being around other people anyway. No one to irritate you. Still, part of you has always craved a secret lover, like so many of the other Padawans at the Temple. Such behavior is not acceptable at the Temple, but many of the Padawans do participate in it. Part of you, just a tiny voice, wished you could too. But the Padawans that even spoke to you civilly would never consider you anything but a mere fellow student. You would even settle for a good friend. Someone to talk to aside from your master. The bug in your head to write something consumes you. You click on your data pad, and begin. A simple word, A kind thought, That’s all I ask, Just a bit of kindness, For a fellow Padawan. Love I know Will never happen, So this I ask, Just a bit of kindness For a fellow Padawan. You pause, trying to think of the next line for your poem. The icon that shows you have a new private message blinks. You let out a sigh and release the new message. You don’t want to look, but part of you does. I am sorry you think this is a joke, and I am sorry if I made you leave class. I promise you, this is not a joke. I really do like you. I would love to spend some time with you sometime, just to talk, to get to know you better. Please let me know if you are interested. A friend. You stared at the message, reading it over and over. You can’t decide if your believe this. Past experience is screaming at you that you shouldn’t. But also, in the past, most of these kinds of jokes have not been so persistent. But if you do this, you want to do this on your own terms. You carefully think of a good response. You toss a few ideas around in your head, how to approach this, where to meet, and when. You decide to get this over with right away, so you can deal with any humiliation that may be inevitable. Meet me in the Conservatory one hour after curfew. Be prompt. You click on the send button, and the message disappears. You set the pad down, and you can’t help the smile that creeps across your face. ~~*~~*~~*~~ You sit in the Conservatory, rereading the poem you had started earlier. You purposely set with your back to the door, to keep you from staring out it, just to see if he comes. You know, if he is serious, he will break curfew. If not, then he was just trying to get under your skin. You press a few editing buttons, changing it here and there, trying to make the flow better. You gut several lines, adding things here and there, until you think you have something. You like the first part, but the second part needs more work, and you are sure you will get it right tonight. Shuffling more stanzas, you think you have the piece somewhere in the completed area. You glance at the crono display on the corner of your pad. He has five minutes to get here. You resist the urge to glance over your shoulder. Mentally, you prepare yourself for the inevitable. You prepare yourself for the probability that he, whoever he is, will not show up. You glance at the crono again. Three minutes. He’s not coming. You know that. Two minutes. He probably is in his room, sleeping soundly, and not giving you a second thought. As usual, for you. One minute. Your icon on your data pad begins to blink. You quickly open the file, shocked at your own anxiousness. I am on my way, please do not leave. I will explain when I get there. You stare at the message, and decide to give this person just a few more minutes. After all, you still need to work on your poem. You look at the poem again, but feel yourself stuck on it. You take a deep breath, trying not to think about who this person could be, and focus on the poem. You dive yourself deep into a meditation, looking for the inspiration to finish the poem. You disappear into a creative world that helps you clarify your thoughts and listen to your inspiration. Words run rampant in your mind, images creep into your consciousness. You begin to see the words, and you let them overtake you. The words start to flow from your mind onto the data pad. Your hand scribbles them down as fast as you can, the words taking control of your every movement. They spill out of you like a torrid river, barely getting onto the pad as you start to scribble the next one. Lost in your writing, you jerk as you feel a hand touch your shoulder. You spin around, taking in a deep breath. Anakin Skywalker looks at you, smiling; a slight glint of perspiration on his forehead. He sits down next to you, keeping a fair amount of distance between you both. “I’m sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from my master. He can be quite talkative at times.” He bows his head, the slightest glimmer of crimson creeping into his cheeks. You stare at him, unable to form sentences. You stumble through your reply, your voice barely audible. “It is okay.” “Uh,” he begins, uncertainty filling his voice. “Why did you want to meet here, this late?” “I wanted to see if you would actually show up. If you were serious, you would show up, regardless of it being after curfew.” You say, not realizing how strongly it sounded until after you spoke. “This is a problem?” he asks. You can’t help the smile that creeps across your face. “You have to ask that?” “I don’t know why it would be.” He shifts so that he is fully facing you. “I didn’t mean for you to think I was being spiteful before.” “When you get a lot of hurt, it’s hard to imagine someone trying to be nice.” “I haven’t,” he says. “No, but you have never been kind, either.” He shifts on his seat, looking at the floor, then back at you. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” he asks, his voice filled with a tiny bit of annoyance. “I want,” you begin. But you stop. He is here, is he not? He is sitting right next to me. Your heart begins to pound as the epiphany hits you like a wild hutt. “Yes?” He asks. You blush, and look away. “I don’t know what I want.” You fiddle with the data pad, saving the poem on the page, something, anything to pull you away from his gaze. “What’s that?” he asks, gesturing to the data pad. “It’s just… it’s nothing.” You try to hide the pad from his view. He reaches out and grabs the pad away from you. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” He glances at the text on the pad. “Poetry? You write poetry?” “There are a lot of things you do not know about me,” you say, sounding just a tiny bit proud of your words. “Can I read it?” You let out a sigh. “Can I really stop you? You have it in your hand.” He smiles at you, and begins reading. You glance away, but then you hear his voice. “Force of Kindness,” “Do not read it aloud!” You cry out, breaking his concentration. “I always read poetry out loud. I understand it better that way.” He smiles at you, holding the pad out of your reach. “If you don’t want to hear this, go over there while I read.” You roll your eyes, and prepare yourself for the inevitable laughter that will come from his voice. You know that he will laugh at you, that he will make fun of you. But how do I know for certain, I never let anyone read my poetry, you think to yourself. You take a deep breath, preparing to hear your words out loud. Something that you don’t even do. Still, you stay next to him, listening. Anakin clears his throat. “I take it you don’t let anyone read your poetry.” “Never,” you reply. “This should be a treat for you then,” he says, his eyes twinkling. “I am thrilled,” you reply sarcastically. He shakes his head at you, then begins: “Force of Kindness,” he says, reading the title again. “The Force is encircling, It makes us stronger, It enlightens It encompasses, But it does not judge. Unlike us, who have emotion. We think and feel in ways That can be unfair and heartless. But gentleness and kindness Makes us whole. So I ask gingerly A simple word, A benign thought, A bit of kindness For a fellow Padawan.” His voice sounds like acoustic satin, pouring out the words of your poem. You sit there, in shock, hearing the emotion behind his words as he reads. You sit there, staring into nothingness as he exhales after the last word. He does not speak as he hands you the data pad. Your entire system is in shock after hearing your words aloud. You take the pad, afraid to look in his eyes. You stare at the ground, at the walls, at the plant nearest you. But not at him. He says your name. He says it again, trying to get you to bring your head up, but you don’t. “That was probably one of the most beautiful poems I’ve ever read,” he whispers. “So true, and so full of emotion.” You snap your head around to him, probing him with the Force as you do so. He’s serious! He’s completely serious! You stare at him, and his eyes say as much as your Force probe. “You look surprised.” “I…” You stammer. “You write beautifully.” He reaches out and gently touches your hand. “I mean that,” he whispers. Your hand feels like it’s on fire at his touch. Your first instinct is to pull away from this Padawan’s touch. There is no emotion, only peace. The Jedi mantra chants through your head. “Thank you,” you manage to squeak out. His hand laces through your fingers, as he scoots just a tiny bit closer to you. The two of you look into each other’s eyes for what seems like an eternity in time, but neither one speaks. You just stare at each other, subconsciously getting closer and closer together. You feel the desire deep within you to lean across the distance between the two of you and kiss him, but you stop yourself. You do not want to give him the wrong impression about you. Although, you can see in his eyes he wants to kiss you too. “AAAAHHHH CCCCHHHHOOOOOO!” Anakin sneezes at you. You jerk back, and before you know it, you’re laughing so hard, tears are pouring out of your eyes. Anakin starts laughing too as he mumbles all kinds of apologies. “I’m so sorry,” he says between his fits of laughter. “It is okay,” you reply, wiping the sneeze off your arm. “It must be the…” Anakin glances at the plants that surround him. “The plants,” he says with a smile. He sees the crono on the far wall behind him. “I really should be getting back to my quarters. We have an early morning tomorrow.” You nod your head, not wanting to go back to your domicile, but you know he’s right, too. He stands, and holds out his hand to help you up. “Can I walk you back?” “If you want to.” “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.” He takes your hand and leads you out of the Conservatory. ~~*~~*~~*~~ In a few moments, the two of you are nearly to your quarters. You two made some idle chatter about your classes and such, but nothing serious. You showed him a few of the back corridors that you had discovered, leading you two almost all the way back to your room, without the chance of running into anyone. You knew, as did he, if you got caught out after curfew, you both would get into trouble. From the Council. You knew, at least in your case, that your master wouldn’t be upset. You are rarely back home at curfew, a leniency that your master allows you. But you don’t know about his master. You’ve only met his master on a couple of occasions, and the man’s eyes are very intimidating. The corridor is silent when you two enter back into the main hallway. You both walk, still holding hands, up to your door. “Are you still surprised that I came?” Anakin asked. “I am,” you say, smiling. “Don’t be,” he says as he leans in and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. Before you register anything beyond the warmth of his lips on your cheek, he’s gone, striding down the hallway toward his own domicile. You do not register in your brain entering your home or getting ready for bed. Your cheeks flame with the feeling of his kiss. After all, you have never been kissed before. Your heart does flip-flops in your chest and you drift off to sleep, pleasantly dreaming about Padawan Skywalker. ~~*~~*~~*~~ You hate physical training. You loathe it. You stand in one of the training rooms, sweat dripping off your body, as you prepare for your next jump. You pull and tug at your workout clothing, wishing for once that the Council would let you wear something not so covering for this aspect of training. Your full body suit, you don’t care what any master says, is incredibly constricting and heavy, and very hot. You try pushing the sleeves up to your elbows, to at least cool you somewhat.
Suddenly, you are next. You bring yourself to center on the task at hand. There is no death, only the Force. You repeat this mantra to yourself as you prepare for your leap. You have to leap nearly fifteen meters into the air, and land on a platform jutting out from the top of the room. And you know that you will not make it.
“Padawan, be in tune to the moment!” Master Kenobi says to you. He stands next to you, waiting for you to make your jump.
You nod your head, and a fleeting thought wanders through your mind. How many Padawans have died during training?
“None, Padawan. Now, go jump!” Master Kenobi snaps at you. “You will not always have time to consider a Force leap!”
Your face turns crimson as you prepare for the jump. You run your fingers through your short, sweaty hair. Glancing up, you see Skywalker standing at the top, watching. He smiles at you, and you stare back at him. You smile, unable to help yourself, and you prepare to leap.
Pushing off with all the strength you can muster, you leap. You grasp at the Force, feeling it pulling you up to the platform. But your aim is off, and you miss the platform. You reach your hand out, and grab the ledge, hanging on. Swinging, you try to get your other arm up.
A hand appears, grabbing your loose arm, and pulling you up to the ledge. You sit, your legs dangling over the edge and take a deep breath to your racing heart. From below, you hear the cheers and jeers of the rest of your class, including your least favorite Padawans, laughing at you. You don’t hear what is said, but you see Master Kenobi heading over to her and her friends, and by his posturing, you know he’s not being polite.
“Class dismissed,” you hear Master Kenobi call out.
The other Padawans, still at the top of the platform, begin climbing down. Anakin pulls you back out of sight from the rest of class. He smiles at you.
“I knew you could do it.”
“Glad someone thought so,” you say, still panting.
He runs his hand through your sweat-soaked hair, and winks at you. His hand slides down to your chin, and he pulls your face to his. Your heart begins racing again, this time, though, not from the jump.
His lips touch yours, and your entire body floods with energy unlike anything you know. Your heart races at the touch and your whole body fills with electricity.
A thunk snaps both of your heads around, and your face turns a vibrant shade of red. Master Kenobi stands there, not speaking, but staring at you both.
You jerk away from Skywalker, and head for the ladder.
“Padawan, wait,” Master Kenobi says.
You freeze, and turn around. Only the Force knew what penance you’ll have to pay for standing up here kissing another Padawan. Babysitting duty? Cleaning some obscure room in the Temple with a manual brush? Sorting the recyclable trashes? Your mind can think of hundreds of penalties for this indiscretion.
“Anakin, you may go down. I wish to speak with her.”
“Yes, Master,” Skywalker replies, and heads to the ladder, quickly descending.
Master Kenobi waits a few moments, and peers over the edge. He sees that Skywalker is gone, and he returns his gaze to you.
You bow your head, waiting for the inevitable lecture about fraternization with another Padawan.
“Do you always have such a problem with those other Padawans? Mirna and the others?” he asks.
You blink, not expecting the comment. “I… sometimes… I mean…”
“Mirna made some cruel comments, and I have a feeling that she does that more often than not.” The Master seats himself on the platform, and gestures for you to do so also.
You sit just a meter away from him. You nod your head in agreement, but do not speak.
“Padawan, no one deserves the kind of ridicule and torture that she is exhibiting toward you. Why have you not told anyone of this?”
You sigh in contempt. “Why have none of the Masters or instructors done anything about it before?” You surprise yourself with your boldness, but you do not apologize for your words.
“I do not know.” He shifts his position, and lets out a sigh of his own. “My Padawan told me of the poem that you allowed him to read last night. It concerned me greatly. I wanted to speak to you about this. Especially since it seems that no one else is addressing this.”
“He told you about the poem?”
“He has mentioned you several times. He thinks very highly of you. He hates the way your fellow Padawans treat you.”
You stare at him, your jaw on the platform. You cannot believe what he’s saying. Hearing the words only confirms what you had hoped in your deepest recesses of your heart, but still, it hits you like a durasteele girder. Part of you still feels like Skywalker’s attention is more of a passing fancy, at least for the moment. You stare at Master Kenobi.
“You seem shocked.”
“Do you blame me?” you reply, your sarcasm replacing your usual timid-ness.
The Master laughs. “I can see why he finds you interesting.”
“He likes girls with the same haircut he has?”
Master Kenobi lets out another deep laugh. “No, my dear.”
“Well, then? What am I to think? He’s a very much admired Padawan. I can think of many female Padawans who would love to get to know him.”
“Yes, but he’s interested in you. He transferred to your class schedule just so he could get to know you better.” Kenobi states.
“No way!” You blurt out.
Kenobi grins. “Way,” he begins to stand up. “I want to speak with your master about the treatment you are receiving from Mirna and her friends. Is that okay with you?”
“What good would that do?”
“Someone needs to stop this.” Kenobi says as he walks to the ledge. “I feel I must do something.” With that, he leaps off the 15 meter ledge, landing perfectly sound on the mats below.
You stick your head over the edge, watching the Master walk off. I have a bad feeling about this.
* * *
You are walking into the cafeteria, preparing to get some food. You would much rather go back to your quarters to eat, but that doesn’t seem to be an option today. Your master had said something about doing some renovating to the domicile, and that you couldn’t come back to them until after all your studies for the day. What she is up to, you’ll never know.
You pick up your food and take a table alone in a corner, away from your fellow classmates. You sit down, allowing yourself to be alone and enjoy your meal in private. The food in the Temple is not the best food, nor is it the most appealing, but it does balance your nutritional needs. And for that you are grateful and thankful. After all, you have to go back to physical training this afternoon. You’ll need all the nourishment you can get.
Thoughts of your morning of physical training flood you.
Well, only the interesting parts.
Anakin kissed me! On the lips!
EECCKK!
You grab your fork and work around the food on your plate. The food looks more like mush than anything today. Of course nothing could look appealing to you that isn’t attached to Anakin somehow. You scoop some of it on your fork and begin shoving it into your mouth when a voice interrupts you.
“May I join you?” Anakin Skywalker says, standing over your table.
You sit there, your fork dangling from your lips and stare up at him, the food sliding off the tipped fork. Anakin Skywalker wants to sit with me! With me!!! In front of everyone! What parallel universe is this?? It lands on your plate with a thud, just enough noise to drag you back into reality.
“If it’s a problem,” he says, staring at you.
“No,” you say, grabbing your napkin and wiping off your chin.
“Oh, well, then, I’ll see…”
“No,” you say, your eyes bugging out, “that is not what I meant. Please, sit down. Join me.”
“Oh,” he says, smiling and seating himself down at your table.
Hearing the typical sounds from across the room, you look up and see Mirna and her gaggle of friends whispering and pointing toward you and Anakin. Dropping your head, you look away, down at your plate, then back up at Anakin.
Anakin hears the whispers and turns around. He glares at the table of Padawans, and you’re not sure, but you think he did something with the Force, because they all turn and resume eating.
“Don’t pay any attention to them,” he says with a hint of disgust in his voice.
“It is hard sometimes,” you reply, shoving a fork full of food in your mouth.
“Mirna is spiteful and jealous. Don’t let her get under your skin.”
“Jealous?” You laugh, “what does Mirna get jealous of?” You take a drink of your water. “She is beautiful,” you say, under your breath.
“She’s not that beautiful,” Anakin replies dryly.
The conversation shifts and the two of you chat about classes and other idle conversation while you finish your meals. He tells you of his life on Tatooine before he came to the Temple, and how he helped in the Battle of Naboo. You stare at him in wonder, having never heard these stories about him.
“But you blew up the command ship!”
He’s grinning from ear to ear. “Really, it was an accident. I was just trying to get out of the thing.” He looked almost embarrassed about his escapades.
“I wish I had such exciting stories to tell,” you say, looking down at your empty plate. “I have never even left the Temple.”
He reaches under the table and touches your knee. “You will,” he says. “I’m just different. Special,” he says, almost grumbling about it.
“Do not be like that, Anakin,” you say, feeling the anger flood off him. “You would not be here if you were not meant to be.” You reach down, touching his hand under the table. You squeeze his long fingers, and his thumb caresses your hand. You blush at the warm feelings you get with the feeling. Lacing your fingers through his, you look into his lovely eyes, smiling at him.
He looks up at the wall chrono, and jerks. “We have to get to classes.” The release of his hand makes you shiver, suddenly feeling very cold.
You stand with him and retrieve your things. He takes your tray of food, balancing it on top of his, and takes them to the recycle counter. A droid grabs the trays as he rejoins you near the door.
“Thank you for sitting with me, Anakin,” you say, keeping your head bowed.
You are stopped mid-stride, feeling a tug of the Force around you. A warmth you recognize as Anakin’s finger touches your chin, and you can’t help yourself from glowing.
He pulls your face up to his. “The pleasure was mine,” he says. His finger runs across your cheek, and you inhale a sharp breath at the intimate contact.
You smile, a blush staining your entire face. “You are very kind,” you whisper back.
“As are you.” He smiles at you and looks over his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, folding his arms in front of him like a good little Padawan, and you do the same. “We have to go.”
~~*~~*~~*~~
Classes fly by and you don’t even notice. Your brain is singing.
Anakin Skywalker likes me!
Me!
AAACCKK!
Your master sends you a Force message to come back after your last class. You head there now, your heart pounding in your chest.
Not, however, because of your master. But because of Anakin. His simple touches inflame your skin. The feeling of his lips on yours makes you tremble with desire, and your head feels light.
You shake your head. This isn’t the way of a Jedi. Jedi don’t succumb to passion and desire. They are controlled.
“Control is a mindset,” a voice says next to you.
You jerk, seeing Anakin stepping to meet your stride.
“Control is the way of a Jedi,” you reply.
His steps broaden, matching yours. “How were your classes this afternoon?”
“Typical,” you say. “Yours?”
“Boring.”
You laugh. “Boring? You mean you don’t find stellar sciences interesting?” Sarcasm fills your words, and he grins at you.
“I prefer physical training.”
“Blech.”
“What’s wrong with physical training?” He asks, his voice serious. “Don’t you enjoy it?”
“I prefer academics,” you reply. You really do. That is where you excel. You could do without the physical part of being a Jedi.
“You certainly have a mind for it,” Anakin says. He slows a bit, and you do the same to match him. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Ask.”
“It’s more like a favor.”
You arch your eyebrow. “A favor?”
“I need some help in some of my classes. Academics aren’t my strong suit. I’m more a hands-on type. Would you be willing to assist me?”
You blink.
It all makes sense to you now. His attention is only a means to an end for him. He only wants you to help him out.
Mirna probably put him up to it.
“You’re smart,” you say. “You can do you own homework.” You increase your step, moving away from him.
“Wait,” he calls out, his strides pounding the floor.
You stop and spin around, and he almost runs into you. “You can go tell Mirna that I won’t play this game anymore. I’m not going to do your work for you!” You pivot and hurry toward your quarters.
You don’t hear Anakin’s footfalls behind you anymore. Inside, your chest heaves and tears stream down your face. You tug your robe hood up over your face and head toward your quarters.
~~*~~*~~*~~
Fool! I am such a fool! You shake your head as you reach your quarters. You slap the panel to open your door and don’t look up as you head inside. You turn to head into your room, not wanting to speak to your master.
“Padawan,” you hear your master’s sweet voice.
You glance up, seeing your Twi’leck master sitting in the main room with a visitor.
“Padawan, I wish to speak to you.”
You sniff, sucking down the last of your tears, and you face your master, hoping your hood shields your tears from her. “Yes, Master?” You realize that her visitor is Master Kenobi.
Panic hits you.
“Please sit,” she says, and you do as your told, sitting next to her on the couch.
She waits until you are settled and she continues. “Master Kenobi has come here to speak to me about you.”
You glance through the hood at Kenobi, whose face is somber.
“He says you are having difficulty with some of your fellow Padawans. Is this true?”
You sigh. “Yes.”
She shifts, crossing her hands in her lap. “Why have you not spoken to me about this before?”
“I did not wish to burden you with my difficulties, Master.”
“Padawan,” she says, exhaling a deep breath. She reaches up and pulls your hood down off your face.
You don’t move, hoping for the briefest of seconds that she doesn’t see your tear-stained face.
But she does. “Padawan! What is it, my child?”
You see even Kenobi jerk at the sight of your tears. “It is nothing, my Master.”
“But it is,” she says. “The other students?”
“It is my burden, Master,” you say, wiping stray tears off your face.
“It is not your burden to be treated so crassly,” Kenobi inserted.
You look at Kenobi’s face, and you see his disgust at your pain. Oh, if you only knew, Master Kenobi. “It teaches me patience,” you reply.
“Padawan,” your master says, drawing your attention away from Kenobi. “Tell me what has been done.”
Your shoulders slump. You know there’s no way out of this mess. “I am teased because of my hair, because of my silence, because of my intellect. Anything that they want.”
“Who?”
“Mirna and her friends.”
“What else?” Kenobi asks.
You glance at him. Your Padawan isn’t so sweet and innocent. “Just today, I learned the real reason your Padawan seeks my attention, Master Kenobi.”
He pauses and studies you for a moment. “Which is?”
You gulp. “He wants me to finish his studies for him.”
Kenobi shakes his head.
“It’s true. Just a while ago, he asked me in the corridor to help him study.” You nod your head at Kenobi. “I know that Mirna and the others put him up to it.”
“And you know this how?” Kenobi asks, crossing his legs in front of you.
You blink. What are you, dense? I’m not the prettiest Padawan in the Temple. I’m not special. I’ll probably wind up teaching here in the Temple when my Knighthood is bestowed on me. I am alone! “Isn’t it obvious?”
The door chime sounds, and your Master answers it. Standing in the doorway, Anakin Skywalker looks breathless, his chest heaving in and out.
“Master?”
“Come in Anakin,” Kenobi says. “I think you might want to hear this.” Kenobi faces you again. “Go on, Padawan. It is not obvious to me.”
You roll your eyes as Anakin takes a seat next to his master. “There is no reason why your Padawan would want any association with me except to have his work done for him. I am of no consequence to…”
“Hold it right there,” Anakin said, jerking forward in the chair. “You think I kissed you because I wanted you to do my homework?”
“Anakin!” Kenobi snaps.
“Well, it’s true!” you hiss back at him.
Anakin looks at Kenobi. “You know that’s not true, Master!”
“Padawan,” your master says, drawing your attention away from Kenobi and Skywalker. “You kissed this Padawan?” Her voice was delicate, but the meaning behind the words rang out in the air.
You bow your head. “It was a moment of emotion, Master. I am sorry.”
Your master glances at Kenobi, then back at you. “Such behavior is not tolerated at the Temple. You both know that.” She turns to glare at Skywalker, then back at you.
“Yes, Master,” both you and Anakin say at the same time.
Your master stares at Kenobi, and you can feel the wisp of the Force as the two of them communicate something. Kenobi almost undetectably nods his head.
“My Padawan learner,” he says to Anakin, “we will discuss your infraction of the Code later. There is a reason I came here that does concern you both.”
The back of your neck tingles and you get a terrible feeling in your stomach. This is not good.
“Anakin and I are heading to Charmi Seven for some extra curricular studies, primarily botany and other biological sciences. I came here to ask if your Padawan would care to join us.”
If your jaw was not so well attached to your skull, it would have tumbled on the floor. You’ve never been away from the Temple. The thought of getting away, even for a few days, seemed like a wonderful opportunity.
Wait, that means you’d be with Anakin.
Kest.
“I think that would be a wonderful idea, Master Kenobi. Some fresh air would be good for her, I think. Get her a new perspective on things.”
You stare at your master. NO! NONONONONONONONONO! I do NOT want to go! Not with them!
You ARE going. Came your master’s firm retort.
“Wonderful,” Kenobi says, smiling at you. “We leave in the morning. It shall be an extended stay. Pack accordingly.”
Again, you thanked your biology for attaching your eyes so well inside your head, because they would have fallen out. An extended stay? How long is that? I will be stuck with them for who knew how long! This isn’t going to be pretty.
You aren’t for sure, but you swear you see a smirk on Anakin’s face.
~~*~~*~~*~~
“Master,” you plead one more time with your master to let you out of this sabbatical.
“You are going, Padawan. You need to refocus on yourself, away from the stresses you have here.” Her large tentacles that stick out of her head shift on her shoulders as she crosses her arms.
You nod your head and turn to face the small transport ship that Master Kenobi requested for this trip. You reach out in the Force and feel Kenobi and Skywalker already on board. Reluctantly, you head for the entry ramp.
“Wait,” your master calls out.
You spin around, hoping that somehow this was a strange, twisted joke cooked up between Kenobi and your master, and you don’t really have to go.
“Take this,” your master hands you a journal recorder. “For your poetry.”
You nod again, tucking the rectangular pad into your travel bag. Turning, you head up the ramp, and let out a sigh when you see Anakin standing at the top.
His face is not the most joyous one you’ve ever seen.
Kest.
“You owe me an apology,” he says as you walk by.
“Only when you prove you’re right and I’m wrong.” You step over the threshold into the transport.
He slaps the panel sealing the ship up tight. “Before we get back, I’ll do just that.”
You roll your eyes. Sure you will.
~~*~~*~~*~~
The ship, small and cramped, had only two sleeping chambers, one for you, the other for Kenobi and Skywalker. You spend most of your time in your room, not having any piloting skills, and avoiding Anakin as much as possible. The trip will take two days to reach Charmi Seven, and you think you can stay away from Anakin if you claim you’re meditating.
Unfortunately, Master Kenobi doesn’t believe you.
Master Kenobi knocks on your door, invading your thoughts about how much you hate Anakin’s intentions.
“Yes?”
“Padawan, please come out for evening meal.”
“I am not hungry, Master.” Don’t want to look at your mean Padawan.
You think you hear a grimace on the other side of the door. “I insist that we have meals together.”
You let out a sigh. This keeps getting worse and worse. You release the door and Kenobi stands there, staring at you.
“This will only be as bad as you allow it to be.”
“Yes Master.”
Anakin stands at counter that juts from the wall, setting each person’s place. Kenobi steps up to the food prep unit and removes three silver trays. Survival rations, blech. You’d rather have the mush from the Temple.
“Please, be seated, Padawan,” Master Kenobi says, sitting a tray on your place. He takes the middle seat, and Anakin sits on the far side of him.
You sit there, and quietly chew your food. You ignore the bland taste, waiting for any excuse to get up and leave. The tension between you and Anakin is almost tangible.
Finally, Anakin lets out a frustrated sigh. “I will not be ignored,” he spits out.
“Who’s ignoring you?” You ask innocently as you take a bit of food.
You hear Anakin fling his fork on the counter. “Because I asked for your help, I’m now the same as Mirna and her friends? I’m just as mean as they are?”
You sit perfectly still, not looking at him.
“I couldn’t possibly have spent time with you because I wanted to, is that it?” Anakin snaps again.
“My young Padawan,” Kenobi says, making a motion with his hand. “At least give her a moment to retort.”
“Do not defend me, Master Kenobi.” You finally look over at Anakin “There’s no reason why you would logically want to spend time with me, Padawan Skywalker, if you weren’t either: one, forced into it by fellow students; two, wanted something specific from me; or three, both.”
“No one forces me to do anything,” he snaps at you.
“Both of you, calm down.” Kenobi puts a hand on your shoulder, as well as Anakin’s. “I will not tolerate this kind of fighting for the next few weeks.”
“I’m not fighting, Master,” Anakin says.
“Enough,” he says, cutting Anakin off. “You two must work out this problem before we can return to the Temple. We will be busy during the day on Charmi Seven taking readings and studying the botanicals for Force-enhancing abilities. So you two will have the nights to work this out.”
Joy. Then a thought occurs to you. “We will not be sharing the same domicile, will we, Master?”
“Not unless I feel it necessary to lock you two up and let you fight to the death.”
Your eyes widen for a second.
“You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you Master,” Anakin says, half smiling at him.
“If that is what it would take,” Kenobi replies.
You feel your stomach begin to roll. Just the thought of having to share a room with Skywalker sends you reeling into a nervous breakdown. And the thing that angers you the most is that part of you would love to share a room with him. Of course, that part lurks down much deeper in your id. Your ego, however, is running the show now, and it is sure Anakin is manipulating you.
~~*~~*~~*~~
After the disaster at your first dinner with Anakin and Master Kenobi, things seem to flow pretty smoothly. Anakin stays pretty much away from you, and you from him. Kenobi tries to keep you two civil to one another, and he succeeds to a point. Neither of you lash out at one another anymore.
Your arrival on Charmi Seven remains uneventful. Kenobi and Skywalker land the transport in a grassy field, and Kenobi determines it a good place to set up the base camp.
You spend the rest of the arrival day setting up the ship to serve as your main laboratory, while Anakin and his master set up the three private tents for your living areas outside. You don’t understand why the quarters on the ship couldn’t serve as your living space, but Kenobi insisted on everyone having their own private area outside, while the ship itself was used to house the testing you would be doing.
An hour after dusk, you emerge from the ship yawning.
The three private shelters sat in a triangle around a center area that the males had fastened a ‘roof’ out of spare tarps to shield from rain. A slight mist of rain fell now, drumming softly on the tarp. The breeze, so gentle, you felt it whisper through you as you emerge, and a smile flicks across your face.
“That is a lovely sight to see,” Anakin says, appearing from a pile of crates.
You snap around to face him, your smile gone. “I was enjoying the breeze, Padawan.”
“Don’t get testy with me,” he snaps back.
“I will get…”
“Padawans!” Kenobi says, his voice echoing through the makeshift residence. “I will not tolerate this!”
“I am sorry Master,” Anakin says.
“I am too, Master Kenobi,” you say.
He approaches you both, his hands folded in front of him, and lets out a sigh. “You both will learn to tolerate each other. You,” he says, facing Anakin, “will be less brash with your comments.”
“But!”
He cuts Anakin off with a motion of his hand. You smirk as you see Anakin’s shoulders drop, and he looks down at the ground.
“And you,” Kenobi says, facing you. “You will not assume that anything and everything my Padawan says is mean and spiteful. He is not the most well mannered boy, but he is sincere. You will learn to trust him.”
Sure, whatever. “Yes Master.”
Kenobi’s finger flies in your face. “And none of that! I will not tolerate back talk, even in your mind!”
“Y—y-yyes Master.”
“You two will drive me crazy!” Kenobi says, heading back towards the center and finishes preparing the evening meal.
You let out a sigh and run your fingers through your hair. Your hairs on your arm stand up as you feel Anakin’s eyes on you.
You pivot and see him still standing behind the crates, his blue eyes staring at you, something between anger and humor flickers through his face.
“I’m sorry to offend you,” he says softly. “I only meant to compliment your attractive smile.”
You nod your head. “I am sorry too. This whole situation is…” you turn away from him.
“What?”
You look back at him, realizing that he’s even closer to you. “Ludicrous. This mess is ludicrous.”
“Why do you say that?” He reaches out, and you think for a moment he’s going to put his hand on your shoulder, but he hesitates.
“I… It just is.” You reach down to one of the crates, lifting it with the Force and levitating it toward the vacant tent to your left.
You step inside, the crate levitated before you, and you place it in the center of the room. Releasing the lid, you begin arranging your tent. You pull out your repulsor bed and assemble it, placing the crate next to the end you decided to use for the head of the bed. You turn to exit the tent, and you jerk back.
Anakin stands in the doorway, another crate in front of him, smiling at you. “I thought I would help you get your things organized.”
“Thank you Padawan.” You take the crate from him and move it into the room, setting it next to the first crate, and start unpacking.
Anakin is still in the tent, and you feel him watching you. “Is there anything else, Padawan?”
“Anakin, my name is Anakin.”
You glance over your shoulder. Something about the way he speaks makes you look up at him. Crystal blue eyes stare down at you, and your heart does a flip-flop in your chest. You may be mad at him, but he still is so cute!
“I know,” you whisper.
“Try using it once in a while.”
You absently nod your head, but you don’t say anything else. He leaves you to finish your unpacking.
~~*~~*~~*~~
The night was uneventful, and you surprise yourself by falling asleep as soon as you hit your bed.
You wake up early, the morning sun peaking over the horizon, and you grab the journal recorder your master gave you, and tuck it under your arm. Still in your thin sleep pants-suit, you run a hand through your spikey hair and pull your Padawan braid out of your collar and head out into the morning air.
You creep past Master Kenobi’s tent and Anakin’s tent, hoping to find a quiet place to write before you begin your duties for the day. Weaving in and out of the thickets of overgrown plants, you work your way toward a tinkling spring. You find a small outcropping of rocks, perfect and peaceful. The rocks molded like a chair, sitting you in the premium spot to watch the water, and still recline enough to relax you.
Leaning back, you take a deep breath, letting the living Force all around you intertwine with your soul. You pull out your new journal recorder.
Inhale the breath,
Inhale the scent,
Inhale the toxic flowers of life.
How long will I be haunted,
By aroma that turns from such beauty
Into such torture.
Haunting blue,
Taints me even behind
Closed eyes.
I dream to push the breath of scent of toxins away.
Kest! You shut down the recorder. Anakin’s face haunts yours even now while you sit here, surrounded by nature and beauty and the Living Force. You can see him behind your eyes, feel his breath under your skin, and taste him in the air.
He’s everywhere!
You lay back on the rock, staring up at the sky. Chanting the Jedi code over and over in your mind, you try to force Anakin from your thoughts.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no chaos; there is harmony.
There is no death; there is only the Force.
The mantra rings through your head, and you begin chanting the words aloud. As you chant, your words echo across the creek, and they seem to dance across the small clearing, echoing back in your head.
“There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no emotion…”
“There is peace,” Anakin’s voice startles you.
You leap up, your hands out, ready to fight, one hand reaching for your lightsaber you left in your tent. A scream stays lodged in the back of your throat. For a moment, you’re proud of yourself for not being a total girl.
Anakin jumps back, smiling broadly at you. “For someone who doesn’t like physical training, you sure do move like you love it.”
“You scared me!” You crouch down, grabbing your journal recorder and sticking it in a pocket of your sleep pants.
“I’m sorry.” He holds a hand out.
You cross your hands over your chest. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to tell you that breakfast is ready. I heard you chanting, but I didn’t mean to scare you.” He keeps his hand out. “You going to get down from there?”
You let out a sigh and take his hand, hopping down. “Thank you.”
You two walk back through the shrubbery, and find Kenobi with a plate of food, and two more empty plates sitting near the portable food prep unit, a dish resting on it with some sort of unidentifiable yellow muck in it.
Your stomach flips over, rebelling against the sight of the food. “I am not very hungry today.”
“You should eat,” Anakin says.
“Yes, we have a busy day today.”
You resist the urge to grumble at them, and after Anakin dishes up his plate, you spoon some of the yellow muck on your plate. With some flavoring spices, you find the yellow stuff not too bad after all.
“What is this?” You ask, glancing up at Kenobi.
“It’s called scrambled eggs.”
Anakin raises his eyebrow to you. “You’ve never had this before?”
“No,” you say. “I usually don’t eat breakfast food, if I do, it is usually a croissant or something like that.”
“Breakfast is important.” Kenobi takes another bite off his eggs.
“I don’t eat a lot,” you say.
“Do you not dine with your master?” Anakin asks.
“My master allows me a lot of private time.”
Skywalker and Kenobi glance at each other. You feel the vibes of the Force as they communicate.
“I see,” Kenobi says. He stands and places his plate in a small tub of water. “We have a lot to do today,” he pulls from his pocket a couple of data cards, and hands one to you and one to Anakin. “Start with these coordinates, and collect samples from all the plants in your inventories. Bring them to me on the ship, and I will work on the analyses.”
You take your data card and scroll through the list. There had to be five hundred plants listed! “Are we expected to find these all today?”
“As many as you can.” Kenobi replies. “In the crates over there,” he gestures to some boxes next to the ship, “there are storage bins for the samples.” He takes Anakin’s empty plate and yours, and sticks them in the water. Anakin looks as distressed as you do about the sample collecting.
“Some of your samples may overlap each other’s, so check back with each other from time to time.” Kenobi says as he starts to wash the dishes.
We’ll never get this done, you think to yourself.
Kenobi spins around, facing you. “If you would rather stay here and clean the dishes, Padawan, you can. I would be happy walking through the country side.” He might have looked more menacing if his hands didn’t have suds all over them.
You repress the now desperate need to throw your head back in fits of laughter. “I… I will collect…” you see Anakin is covering his mouth to keep from laughing too. “I will collect my samples.”
“Good,” Kenobi says. “Now get to work.”
You stand, and head into your tent to dress for the day’s work. As soon as you step inside, you start stripping off your sleep clothes.
“Oh!” Anakin says.
You spin around, holding your sleep shirt to your front. “Anakin!”
“I’m sorry,” he says. He darts back out the tent, dropping the flap. “I didn’t realize…”
“It’s okay.” You try not to let the thought of Anakin almost seeing you nude filter into your mission of getting dressed. ‘Do or do not, there is no try…’ Well, Yoda, you’ve never had a hunky Anakin almost see you naked! “What did you want?”
“Do you want to work that list together? Or did you want to work your side, and I work the other?”
“That would be more efficient, don’t you think?” You see his silhouette outside the tent, one hand resting on the frame of the tent, the other hand picking at the lining. If he didn’t annoy you, you’d find his shadow pretty cute right now.
“Working separately?” He kicks at something on the ground.
“Yeah.”
“Sounds good.” You hear a ping of disappointment in his voice, and his footsteps crunch away from your tent.
You roll your eyes as you finish dressing. Males are so strange, you think. You should be angry at Anakin for following you into your tent, but you’re not. For some reason, probably because you’re still laughing at Kenobi and his bubbles, you actually thought it was pretty funny.
Besides, it’s not like Anakin saw anything. He saw your back. When you spun around, he saw your hands crossed over your chest, clenching your sleep shirt. No big deal, right?
Then why did your heart thump in your chest almost as fast as it did when he kissed you?
~~*~~*~~*~~
You wipe the sweat from your brow. You have collected more samples of shrubs, berries, and twigs than you ever thought possible. And the day is only halfway through. As far as your concerned, you don’t ever want to see another botanical again as long as you live.
You’ve been on this shrub infested planet for a little over two months, and it seems the only benefit the shrubs have is making your hair grow. Your short spikey ‘do is now down past your nose, and falls in your face with any movement of your head. Half of your day is spent pushing the tendrils out of your eyes.
You hike down through the field, toward a cluster of broman berry plants you have to collect samples of. Kenobi wants not only the leaves, but samples of the berries, the roots, the stems, and everything on this plant. As you approach the bushes, you reach out with the Force, feeling the signature of the plant in the living Force, feeling if it has any different kind of signature than any of the other plants.
Nothing.
Like every other sample, you get nothing. No extra glimmer in the Force that radiates from the plant to make it extra special.
Part of you wonders if any of the plant life here has any special gift.
You get to the shrubs, and just as you’re about to climb into the thicket and start pulling the samples you need, you step on a twig. The twig snaps, and you slide, falling into some kind of underground cave.
A kind of scream comes out of your mouth; not really a scream, but a long string of corellian cuss words. You land with a thump, hitting something sharp as you land. This time, the cuss words are very recognizable.
As your eyes focus, you see you’re in a deep cavern, and you must have tumbled nearly ten meters. The cavern’s only light, the hole you fell through, filters around like smog in the air, showing the half-clay, half-mud walls. Roots weave in and out of the walls, creating a strange sort of texture across the walls and ceiling.
You shift to get up, but you can’t move your right ankle. You look down at your foot, the only light from the circle where you fell doesn’t reveal your ankle. It’s in the shadows, but you can feel your pulse in it, and you know you’re bleeding.
Not good, so not good.
You try to move your ankle, but it seems wedged between two large stones. Ironically, the two stones seem to be keeping you from gushing blood out.
Okay, must get up now. You look at the stones, and tap into the Force, trying to pull the stones apart. Straining hard, you can’t feel the stones moving at all. They feel like they’re buried deep in the clay ground. You try twisting around, moving your leg, anything to loosen the grip of the stones, but nothing works.
Wait! You feel like an idiot. My lightsaber! Of course!
You grab your hip for your lightsaber. And it’s not there! “Naturally,” you mutter. You look around, but you can’t see it anywhere. Kest!
Okay, okay, okay. What now? You grimace. You need help. And you have to ask the one person you don’t ever want to ask for anything ever. Kest.
Anakin! Anakin! Anakin help me! You shout through the Force toward Anakin’s presence. Thank the stars he’s the Chosen One, his life force glimmers in the Force like a beacon. You press your location as best you can on Anakin, trying to show him where you’re at.
You hear your name being called from above you.
“Anakin, down here.” You cry back.
A shadow passes over the small amount of light over you. “What happened?”
“I felt like a trip,” you snap back at him. “I fell, and I can’t get up!”
“I’m coming down.” He starts to climb down into the hole. “Move over a bit, I don’t want to land on you.”
P>
“There in lies the problem. I can’t move.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m stuck.”
“Okay.” Anakin says. You look up, and see him hanging on a root near the edge of the hole, and he starts to swing. Pushing off the wall behind him, he launches himself forward, doing a flip in the air and landing a meter from you, as if there was no gravity on the planet.
“Are you okay?” He asks as he kneels down next to you.
You nod your head. “My foot is stuck between those rocks. I tried moving them, but I couldn’t. And I’m bleeding. I can feel the blood pulsing around. I think the rocks are holding the blood in.”
Anakin studies the rocks for a moment. “Those are deep. I don’t know that I can move them.” He pulls his lightsaber out of its sheath. “Can you move back a bit?”
“I’ll try,” you twist your leg and hip as much out of the way as you can as he ignites his sword. The green blade illuminates the small cave, and you avert your eyes, the brightness hurting.
He taps the rocks with the saber, shattering one and cracking the other.
“Kest,” he mutters. You feel the blood gush out of your leg. His hand grabs the wound, holding it tight. You repress your desire to scream. Whatever’s wrong with your leg, it’s bad. “Got some kind of synth flesh or something?”
You rip the hem of your outer tunic, pulling about a meter of fabric away, and hand it to Anakin. You feel light-headed as he starts wrapping the wound.
“Okay,” he says as he finishes, “That should hold it till we get back to camp.”
You nod your head.
“Can you stand?”
You try to pull yourself up, and put all your pressure on your left foot. Anakin holds you up, and you look up at the entrance to the cavern. It’s at least ten meters over your head.
Anakin looks at you, then at the hole. “I think we’ll have to jump for it.”
“You sure you can’t carry me?” You do not want to jump. This is just like the loathing training at the Temple. Course, this time, there are no mats to break your fall.
He tilts his head at you. “You can do this. It’s just like during physical training.”
You stick your tongue out, and he steps away from you. Not what I needed to hear, thank you. You wobble, nearly passing out. “I don’t know…” you say. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“So you just want to sit here?”
“Can’t you just go get Kenobi, and then you two can levitate me out or something?”
Anakin crosses his arms over his chest. “Look, you can do this.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I know you can.” He turns you around, so you’re in line to leap out of the hole. “It’s easy,” he whispers. “I’ll be right behind you.”
You stare at the opening, ignoring the pain in your right foot, and rock a bit to get your bearings. You know you don’t have a choice. Well, you do, but the one is that you’re stuck in the bottom of this cave forever.
On three, you tell yourself. One… you concentrate on the hole. Two… you open yourself to the Force. Three… you close your eyes and leap.
You feel yourself flying through the air, sunlight hits your face, and you open your eyes, just in time to see yourself slamming into the ground, and rolling across the grass. A scream comes out of your mouth as you roll on your ankle.
Anakin appears at your side, pulling you up to a sitting position. He smiles, pulling you to him in a big hug.
“See, I told you that you could do it!” He looked down at your ankle. “Can you stand?”
You try to pull yourself up, but there’s no strength left in your left leg, and your right leg throbs. “I don’t know.”
Anakin nods. He scoops you up in his arms and starts carrying you toward camp.
“Wait!” You start looking around on the ground. “My lightsaber!”
Anakin stops and looks around. He stares at a spot you can’t see over your shoulder, and your lightsaber appears in front of you. You grab it, and toss it on your chest, which is kind of pressed against Anakin’s as he marches through the grass back to camp.
~~*~~*~~*~~
At some point, you must have passed out from the pain, because the next thing you know, you’re lying on your cot, and your foot doesn’t hurt nearly so much. You start to move, but your head aches as soon as you try to sit up.
“Shh, lay back down,” you hear Anakin say. His face appears above you, and he puts his hand on your forehead, guiding you back down. You glance around, seeing that the sun has started setting, and Anakin lit a lantern in your tent. The pale yellow light sets off his jaw line and deep set eyes.
“What… what happened?”
He smiles at you. “You fell in a hole. I saved you.”
“You made me jump.” You say, the little bit of memory coming back about the ordeal.
“You lost a lot of blood. I helped you into a healing trance to let your body recuperate when we got back to camp.” Anakin says as he strokes your forehead.
“I don’t remember that.”
“You were not very responsive when he returned.” Master Kenobi’s voice echoes in the small tent.
“Master,” you say, trying to sit up again. Anakin grabs your shoulders, pulling you back down to the bed.
“Rest,” Anakin says.
“Yes, Padawan,” Kenobi says. “Sleep. Anakin will keep a watch over you tonight.”
You glance around your small tent, just large enough for your bed and a make-shift chair Anakin sat on, the size of one of your packing crates. I don’t envy him, you think.
“Anakin will be fine. Now, you,” Kenobi points at you, “get some rest.”
“Yes Master,” you say, yawning. You glance over at Anakin. “Can I get something to drink?”
Anakin pulls a bottle of water up and gives you a sip. Never had anything tasted so wonderful. Your mouth feels like a desert. The water quenches your thirst, and you fall back into the cot. The last cognitive thought you have is Anakin stroking your forehead, his voice whispering words of comfort.
* * *
Darkness surrounds you. Sweat drips down your face. You’re in the training room, preparing for a Force jump. The platform is high above you, higher than normal. You strain to see the landing; it seems so far away.
Behind you, the sneers and giggles of your classmates grows louder and louder. The murmur of unrecognizable noise starts taking form.
“You can’t do it, You can’t make it, you’re not good enough…” You glance around, Mirna and her friends surround you, chanting over and over again the phrases.
You look up to the ledge, and see Anakin sticking his head over the ledge.
He motions for you to jump, holding his arms out like he’s going to catch you. You reach up, the chants getting louder and louder, and you leap for Anakin.
He holds his hands out, and as you fly toward him, he ducks behind the ledge. You fly toward the ledge, and he pops his head over to look at you hanging by your fingertips.
“Please,” you whisper.
He stares at you, his fingers poking at yours.
“Help me, please.”
He shakes his head.
Your fingers start slipping. “Please, help me!”
He shakes his head.
Your fingers lose their grip, and you start to tumble, screaming.
You wake up, realizing that you still are screaming. Arms wrap around you, and you blink, trying to reorient yourself.
“Shh,” Anakin whispers, holding you close to him.
“Anakin?”
“I’m here,” he says.
You realize he’s on the cot with you, and you scoot over, allowing him more room on it. He shifts, and you feel him slid one leg behind you, him now holding you in his lap. You think you shouldn’t allow such casual contact, but that part of your brain is repressed by the part that needs to be held right now.
You curl into him, burying your head into his chest. His skin feels warm and safe, and you curl into it. His fingers rub your head, and he whispers soft soothing words that you can’t understand, but you just recognize the sound of his voice as it soothes you.
He reclines, and you lay on top of him, and he continues stroking you, caressing your shoulders and your back. You drift back off to sleep, still curled around him.
~~*~~*~~*~~
A gentle throb wakes you, and you open your eyes, realizing that your foot is still aching. But you don’t pay any attention to it. It’s too comfortable in your bed. You pull your warm blanket up over you, and roll onto your side. It’s so warm and cozy in your bed.
A soft groan comes from behind you, and your cot shifts. A long muscular arm falls across your waist.
KEST!
You snap around, seeing a sleeping Anakin Skywalker curling up into you in your bed. He opens and closes his mouth as he pulls you tighter into him. Your anger dissipates, and gentle curiosity replaces it. You watch him sleep.
His eyes flutter beneath the lids, and you can feel his breath on your shoulder. You raise your hand to touch his cheek, and almost like he senses the coming touch, he bats your hand away.
Fine, you think, and start to sit up. It’s not like I would have hurt you or something!
Anakin jerks, sitting up next to you.
You open your mouth to start yelling at him about his presumptuous actions of climbing in your bed, when he puts a finger over your lips. Normally, such a touch would never keep you silent, especially not when Anakin is concerned, but something in his deep blue eyes silences you.
Your eyes drop and a blush fills your cheeks. You’re embarrassed, why you can’t be sure. Maybe because you’re awaking with a man in your bed, maybe because it’s Anakin… who knows? You just feel your heating cheeks.
Anakin untangles himself from you, and you realize just how wrapped around each other you two were in the night. As he climbs out of the bed, the morning air assaults you, and you shiver.
He has his back to you, slipping on his tunic bottoms. “I’m sorry,” he says, spinning around, but his head still looks down as he fastens his bottoms. “You had a nightmare.”
A vague memory of falling fills your head, but you can’t remember any more than that. “It’s okay,” you tell him. You force yourself to look up at his face, because if you don’t, you’ll keep staring at his chest, and want to touch the corded muscles there.
No! Behave, you tell yourself.
You straighten the covers on the bed, and you think you hear Anakin smirk. You look back up at him, and his face is somber, but his eyes twinkle.
“How’s your foot?”
You roll your ankle. It still hurts, but it’s not as bad as it was yesterday. “Not bad.”
“Can you stand?” He holds his arm out to help you up, but you ignore it, and attempt to stand on your own.
Big mistake. Your foot crumbles under the pressure, and your ankle snaps as you collapse on it. The long list of cuss words that fly out of your mouth make Anakin blush.
At the onslaught of language, Kenobi bursts into the tent. “Padawan, are you okay?”
You grit your teeth. I’m perfectly fine, you chu’ellen moron! I scream like that when I’m overjoyed! “My foot was not ready for the pressure of standing.” You climb back up to the edge of the bed, tears filling your eyes.
Kenobi glares at you, and you’re certain he heard your thoughts. Oh well, there are worse things…
“I doubt that you will be able to labor today, Padawan. It would be best if you stayed in your tent.” Kenobi crosses his arms. “And refrain from such colorful metaphors, even in your thoughts, Padawan.”
You slump back into the bed. “Yes Master.”
During this exchange, Anakin has found some ice to put on your ankle, and comes back in the tent carrying it. He steps to your bedside and examines the swelling that in the last few minutes has doubled the size of your ankle. He elevates your foot with an extra blanket, and sets the ice on your ankle.
“This will help the swelling.” Anakin says. Kenobi leaves the tent, and you’re only too happy to see the nosey Master gone. “Try to put yourself into a healing trance, and the swelling will dissipate.”
“Does he always read your thoughts like that?” You ask, resting your hands behind your head and staring up at the roof of your tent. You flinch as he adjusts things under your foot.
“He is a concerned Master, like any other, I guess.”
“Not like mine. My master allows me a lot of privacy.”
“Does she allow it, or do you just resist her prying?”
You glance at Anakin. “I like my privacy.”
“Do you?” Anakin asks, his eyebrow arches.
You grab your journal from your makeshift nightstand. “Get lost, Padawan, I want to write.”
Anakin nods. “I’ll check back later.”
You nod your head, barely registering his departure from the tent, already engrossed in a poem.
~~*~~*~~*~~
At some point, Kenobi brings you lunch, but you don’t touch much of it, engrossed in your writing. In the few moments of lucid thought you have between stanzas, you think you must be writing an epic poem. So far, the poem stands at 237 lines. And you can feel there’s still a lot to be said.
Later in the day, Anakin appears with your dinner. You register that he comes in the tent, sets your food rations on your make-shift night stand, but that’s about all you contemplate.
How long it is between him setting the rations down and you eating one of the bland bars, you have no idea. You pick one up, absently shoving a bit of it in your mouth, and continue your work.
Stanzas flow out of you like water, and sweat drips off your hair that keeps tumbling in your face. Somewhere between the latest drop of sweat falling on the journal, you pushing the annoying strands of hair out of your face, and writing, you realize you have not even tried to walk on your foot.
You set down your journal and let out a sigh.
“It’s about time,” Anakin says, and you scream.
“What the chu’el are you doing here?”
“I’m just making sure you eat.” Anakin straightens up, his arms uncrossing as he approaches you.
You blink, realizing that twilight fills the windows of your tent. “How long have you been standing there?”
He sits on the edge of your bed, far enough away to not be presumptuous, but still close enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Long enough to see you’re deep in concentration, and that you probably wouldn’t eat. If you didn’t eat soon, I was going to take your journal away from you.”
You smirk at him. “And I would have beaten you.” That stupid hair falls in your face again.
“Well, it’s a good thing that you actually ate, then isn’t it?” He reaches forward and brushes the stray hair out of your face. His hand follows your hairline, tucking the hair behind your ear, and his fingers strum across your Padawan braid.
Your heart wants to leap out of your chest, and you bow your face from his, biting your lip.
“Your braid needs as much work as mine does,” he says, feeling the looseness of it near the scalp.
You grab the braid, pulling at it just a bit. “Well, maybe we can trade, I’ll do you, if you do me?”
Anakin grins a broad, wicked, tantalizingly sexy smile. “I would love to ‘do you’ if you ‘do me.’”
Your cheeks flame crimson, and you bury your hands in your face. “That’s not what I meant!” Embarrassed laughter slips out of your mouth, and you can’t bring yourself to look up at him.
You feel a finger on your chin, pulling you up to face him. “I know,” he says, laughing a little. He leans closer to you, one hand capturing your hands, and pulls them away from your face. He places a delicate kiss on your forehead.
His lips don’t linger, they pull away only seconds after they make contact, but you know your skin is now scorched. “So do you want to fix my braid for me?”
“Sure,” you say, your voice sounding way too content. Your hand slips up, finding his Padawan braid, and you start pulling the bands off. A quasi-professional feeling overtakes you, and you grab a brush out of your drawer on your nightstand, and brush out the braid.
“It really has grown out,” you say, seeing the length that had grown from his scalp. At least twelve centimeters hung unbraided at the top of his braid.
“And so has yours,” Anakin says.
You comb his hair, long and wavy, out of the way of the braid, and make quick work of the braid, attaching the bands as you work your way down to secure the braid. You turn his head a little bit, and look at the pony in the back. He’s tried to keep it neat and fastened at the base, like a good little Padawan, but with his unkept hair, it looks like a ragged tail that hangs too long over the rest of his hair.
You blush, thinking your hair probably doesn’t look any better. You are finishing the braid, and fasten the last band. “You think Master Kenobi would let us cut off our Padawan pony tails?”
“Why?”
“They look terrible, and when we get back to the Temple, the first thing we’ll do is get our hair cut again, so they’ll come back. It would be easier than trying to maintain these ratty things.”
Anakin starts unbraiding your tail. “Well, we could ask.” He tugs on a tangle. “Or we could just cut them off to the same length as the rest of our hair.”
You arch an eyebrow at him as he starts braiding. “Don’t you think that could cause trouble?”
“The last thing my master gets upset about is my hair. Have you seen his?”
You laugh as he finishes your braid. “Well, then, lets find something to cut our hair with.”
Thirty minutes later, you both sit on your bed with clumps of each other’s hair in your hands, laughing. Anakin fluffs the back of your hair with his hand. “You look cute with longer hair.”
You smile. “So do you.” You run your fingers through his wavy locks. He plays with your hair again, and his hand stops at the base of your neck. You rest your hands on his shoulders, looking in his eyes. The laughter that was just on his face is now gone, and a more adult, serious tone fills his expression.
His empty hand runs across your jaw line, lingering on your chin. His finger taps you gently, and he smiles. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
You feel your cheeks flame, and you look away from him. “I’m not beautiful.”
He pulls your chin back up, so he faces you. “You are beautiful.” He leans a bit closer to you.
Your heart pounds in your chest. He’s so close to you now, your breath catches in your throat. You want to kiss him, to feel those soft looking lips on yours, and you know that look in his eyes. It is the same one he had before, the last time he kissed you.
“Are you going to kiss me, Anakin?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer.
“I want to,” he replies, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you held.
You tremble, afraid of his touch, but still wanting it.
“You’re trembling.”
“I want to kiss you too,” you say. “But I’m afraid.”
“Of me?” Anakin asks, smiling.
You shake your head. “No, not you.” You look down. “Well, kind of.”
He takes a hold of your hands. “Why is that?”
You shrug. “I have a hard time believing you could be interested in me. I’m no one special, I’m not a terribly strong Jedi, I don’t have the potential to be anything great.”
“You can’t see your own potential, because we’re not supposed to. But I see you to be a great Jedi, a woman worthy of the title Jedi Master. Possibly even a member of the Council.”
You smile at him. Part of you wants to believe him, the other part screams at you that this is just another one of his manipulations, so you say nothing, just look into his eyes.
Still, you can’t see any hint of deception in his eyes. “Always in motion, is the future,” you say, your best Yoda voice.
Anakin smiles. “You’re cute when you poke fun at Yoda.”
You have to laugh.
And then you stop because he kisses you.
Hard.
He pulls you to him, holding you against his chest, and you revel in the taste of his mouth. Oh how sweet he tastes! His lips part, and you taste the warmth of his mouth. His tongue slips forward, just tapping your lips, and you open your mouth wider, allowing him to pull you more into the kiss. His tongue slides back, and you slip yours out, touching his, tasting a bit more of him.
His hands entangle in your hair, and you feel your insides turn to goo. Never has any kiss felt so amazing, so powerful. You feel yourself moan as your tongues battle. He pulls away from you, and you whimper at the loss of his kiss.
Then he finds your throat, running his lips up and down, and you moan even more. He zigs and zags all over your throat, and you shake under his touch, putting your hands in his hair.
“Anakin,” you groan.
He slides back up to your mouth, reclaiming his prize, and presses you down into your cot, as he scoots himself on top of you. He’s careful of your foot, but still manages to press his whole length on top of you. Unlike the soothing comfort of waking in his arms, this sends passionate currents all through your body.
His body is hot, pressed against you. Especially in his manly area. You wonder if he’ll rip his pants, they are so taunt against you.
“Not likely,” he whispers.
“What?”
“I won’t rip them…” he kisses your neck. “Maybe not that way, anyway.”
“How then?”
He looks in your eyes. “I’ll let you do the ripping.”
You smile. “I might be able to do that,” you run your hands down his back, slipping across his bottom, and his hips arch into yours. You groan against the pressure, having never felt such a sensation.
He kisses you more, his hands on your sides. You feel his hand graze your breast, and you moan in his arms. You feel, or maybe you hear, a moan of his own, and his hips press into yours again.
“Padawan Skywalker!” Kenobi’s voice thunders into the tent.
Anakin rises up a bit, and lets out a sigh. “Yes Master.” He doesn’t get off you, but looks at your face and rolls his eyes.
“Padawan,” Kenobi’s voice is much closer, and you hear the entry to your tent open. “It is time…”
Anakin starts to rise off you. “Yes, Master, I’m coming.”
Not yet you weren’t, you think.
Anakin winks at you and starts to head out the entrance. Kenobi stands there, shaking his head at his Padawan, then glares at you.
“I expect to see you at least trying to walk tomorrow, we still have work to do here.”
“Yes Master,” you reply.
You roll over to go to sleep, with visions of Anakin dancing in your mind.
~~*~~*~~*~~
Another week rolls by, and you can finally stand on your foot. For the first time, you are able to do a little more of the tedious botany assignment you have been sent here to do, lessening the load for Anakin.
Since the night a week ago, Anakin has yet to come back to your tent and continue where you two were interrupted. You’re kind of glad. Who knows how far you two could have gone if Kenobi hadn’t interrupted.
Whatever!
You still held a strange grudge at Kenobi for stopping such a fantastic moment between you and Anakin.
As you carried back your batch of samples to the camp, you try to put on a happy face for Kenobi. No reason to let him in on what had been happening in your tent, and what you wished for every night to continue uninterrupted.
You arrive back at base camp and head into the ship. You can hear Kenobi in the bridge, talking to someone on the comm.
“Yes, I see it myself, there is a power there,” Kenobi says.
The speaker’s voice is vague, and you can’t hear what they say. You sneak a little closer to try and make out more of what’s being said.
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Will you prevent such a situation?” You still don’t recognize the voice, but it does seem familiar.
“I will not discourage it. I think it would be best for them both.”
“How old were you?” The voice sounded like whoever it was smiled, or was telling a joke.
You peek around the corner, and see Kenobi with his back to you, and his head nods as though he’s laughing a bit.
“A little older. But my situation was very different.”
You jerk back behind the corner, trying your best at stealth. But you can still hear the voice’s comments. “You Force-binded with that scribe, what was her name? Trinity Salka?”
Trinity Salka? Who was that? You rack your brain, trying to remember. The name sounded so familiar.
“Yes, and I cannot expect that here. I wouldn’t wish that torture on anyone.”
“It was unfortunate for you.” The voice said.
Unfortunate? Something unfortunate happened to Kenobi? You always figured there wasn’t anything that could shake him.
“Yes, but I would not change a day of it. Even after.” Kenobi’s voice sounded very distraught.
“Well, please keep me apprised. You can’t stay gone too much longer. The Council is starting to get curious.”
“I hope to be finished in a few days. If all works well.”
Finished? We still have a whole mountainside to work on? What’s he going to do? Drive us till we collapse?
“Good. I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
“How is the other situation going?”
“It is being handled. By your return, it should be taken care of completely.”
“Good to know. Kenobi out.”
You hear the flick of the comm. being turned off, and you bounce into the room. “Master Kenobi?”
He turns around, and for the briefest of seconds, you think you see a wet mark on his face. But a breeze picks up, and the spot seems to dissipate. Maybe you just imagined it.
“Yes Padawan?”
“I have my samples today.”
“And I have mine,” Anakin says from behind you.
You nearly jump out of your skin, and whirl around, seeing him standing there with a much larger box than you have, grinning at you.
“Good, good, Padawans,” Kenobi says. “Set them in the back, and I’ll get to work on them. You two go on, take the rest of the afternoon off, and I’ll work on these.” He looks at the boxes. “I have a lot to do today.”
You both nod.
“How did your ankle hold up?” Anakin asks as he places your box on top of his and sticks them in the work area.
“Not bad. It only aches a little.”
You look at Anakin. We need to talk, you send him through the Force.
Sure.
“That’s good to hear, Padawan,” Kenobi says. “Perhaps tomorrow it will not bother you at all.”
“I hope so.”
Anakin’s stomach starts to grumble.
You smirk. “Maybe I’ll fix some food.”
“That sounds like a good idea, Padawan,” Kenobi says. “Prepare something for you both, I will eat a little later.”
“Okay.”
You two head off the ship, and you step over to the make-shift eating area, and start pulling out food.
“So what do you want to talk about?” Anakin says, sitting down across from you.
“Kenobi,” you say.
“What about him?” Anakin asks, helping you arrange the food prep unit and prepare the rations.
“Did he ever, uh, date?”
Anakin raises his eyebrow. “Kenobi, date? You mean like a woman?”
“Yeah.”
Anakin makes a face, and then shakes his head. “Not really, no.”
You could feel a bit of turmoil in him as he spoke. “Are you certain?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I heard him talking to someone on the comm. when I came aboard. Something about him Force-binding to some scribe.” You shrug your shoulders.
Anakin sighs. “There was someone. Trinity. I barely remember her. It was years ago, I think they had been together before I became his Padawan. She died.”
“Oh, that is terrible.” You serve up the food to Anakin, then yourself.
He takes a bite of his food, then speaks. “I don’t remember much about her. Except that Obi-Wan loved her with every part of himself.”
“Were they Force-binded?”
“There was something there. I could see it when I looked at him. A kind of tether. At the time, I figured it was just the Force. Then it kind of went away.”
“Went away?”
“When she died, it disappeared.”
You nod your head. “That’s so sad for him.” You dish up a little more food for yourself. “What does that have to do with you and me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I do not know. Kenobi was saying something about there being a power, but then he said, that ‘his situation was a bit different,’ and that’s when they started talking about Force-binding.”
“So what do you think it means?” Anakin asks between a mouthful of food.
“I have no idea.” Although, you do have a little bit of one. Does Kenobi think you two will Force-bind or something?
“You do too,” Anakin says, staring at you.
“I do not,” you deny.
“You forget, I’m the Chosen One. I can read your thoughts.”
“Forget it Padawan,” you snap back at him. “I am not falling for that one.”
He smiles as he stands up. “If I can’t persuade you, then maybe I can torture you for the information…”
Faster than light, he darts across the table, tackling you to the ground. You both hit the ground with a thud and start rolling around.
“The tickle torture always works!” he says, running his fingers up and down your side, making you giggle like crazy.
“Not as well as the depantsment!” You squeal back as you grab the edge of his tunic bottoms and tug them down on his hips, revealing his bottom to the entire planet. He jerks back, and pulls them back up, but you manage to wiggle away as he does, and you tear off through the encampment.
However, Anakin is not the Chosen One for nothing. In a flash, he’s back on you, and you barely manage to get away, ducking into your tent.
Not that it stops Anakin, he’s hot on your heals and flies into the tent, his mission to torture you with tickles until you willingly give up the information.
What information?
You can’t even remember, all you know is Anakin throws you on the bed, tickling you until you scream.
Anakin puts his hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” he whispers, ‘Don’t alert Obi-Wan.”
You nod your head, and as he pulls his hand away, his blue eyes stare down at you, and you think for a moment you’re going to faint, his face is so erotic.
You inhale a breath, and he comes down, kissing you hard. You can barely breath, but seriously, who wants to breath when Anakin is kissing you? The taste of his mouth is amazing, and he wields his tongue like a pro, sending ripple after ripple through your body.
You realize his hands are slipping up your sides, avoiding all sensitive areas, but sending chills through you just the same. His hands find the edge of your tunic and he slips his fingers underneath, feeling your stomach.
You slip your own hands under the back of his tunic, feeling the curve of his lower back, and he moans as you run your hands under the waistband, feeling the top of his bottom.
Anakin bolts up off you, and you freeze, thinking something’s wrong, that he’s heard something.
“Not working,” he says, and pulls his tunic top and bottoms off in a flash, and tosses them across the tent.
You start loosening your top, but he stops you.
“I want to.”
Very slowly, with painstaking detail, he undoes each clasp, and covers your neck and upper chest with soft, feather-like kisses, sliding down between your breasts, yet he doesn’t reveal either of them, but they both strain to be touched by him.
You groan, cry, and moan as he takes his time, carefully removing the layers of Jedi paraphernalia. He reveals one breast, and covers it with delicate kisses, flicking your already aching nipple with his tongue. Then he reveals the other, and takes even more painstaking care to give it equal treatment.
At this point, you’re pretty much sure you’re head is about to explode.
So what do you do now?
You try not to scream.
His hands run down your body, revealing your legs, thighs and other places he can pelt with long drawn out kisses. Before you’re aware, you’re naked on the bed, and he’s running kisses up and down your legs, careful of your injury, but still pressing long, slow kisses all over.
You feel his breath in between your legs, and you freeze.
You grab his head.
“Please,” you say, shaking your head at him. “You do not have to.”
He looks up at you, his blue eyes feral as he stares at you. “I want to.”
His lips touch your center, and you about leap off the bed. Oh Force! That’s the greatest feeling in the galaxy! What he’s doing or how he’s doing it, you don’t know, nor do you care. All you know is that it is the most amazing thing you’ve ever felt in your life.
You roll, rock, moan, cry, clench the bed, and writher around, knowing only that what he does sends massive waves of pleasure through you, and you feel yourself falling over a cliff, your chest heaving, and you cry out over and over, tumbling faster and faster and faster, and you expect to crash, but you don’t, you crest, and feel like you can fly.
Then your body starts twitching.
Anakin sits up, admiring you. He touches your leg, but it’s so sensitized you jerk like he scalded you. You see his manhood straining against his under shorts, and you swear it’s going to rupture the fabric.
“Feeling better?” He asks.
You should have said something. You thought you said something. But no words come out of your mouth, only moans.
Anakin smiles. “Good,” he says, and starts crawling up your body, planting delicate kisses as he goes, your body jerking with every touch. “How do you feel?”
“Like I could fly,” you say.
He looks you in the eye, and you can feel his hips pressed into you, and you can tell he’s ready.
You reach down, tugging at his under shorts.
“Anxious?” He pulls away.
“Are you?”
He slides them off and stands before you, a vision of beauty. “I have wanted this from the day I met you.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and he climbs on top of you. He positions himself, and starts to slide in, gently.
“Oh, Stars, Anakin,” you say.
A groan comes from him as he slides all the way in. He starts slow, building his pace, but after a few minutes, you start slamming back into him, pushing harder against him.
He takes your cue, and he speeds up, slamming into you with full force, and you lose your mind. The wake of orgasm that builds in you again is nothing like the first one. This one is more primal, more intense than the first, and the sensation of falling is even more real feeling, and you grab onto Anakin, holding on with all your strength.
You both moan and groan as you fall into the climax, you falling first, tightening around him, and you feel him pulsing inside you as he throws his head back in ecstasy saying your name over and over.
He collapses on top of you, and you both tumble off into slumber.
~~*~~*~~*~~
You awake to see dusk outside of the tent, and Anakin lays on top of you, his breath warm in your ear. A breeze slips through the tent and chills you and your now cold-sweaty body.
A crunch of something outside makes you jerk, and for a second you swear you see Kenobi walking around outside the tent door, but the shadow disappears and you think you’re imagining it.
You squirm under Anakin and he rolls off you. Still, you crave his body’s touch and you throw a leg over his, and pull a discarded blanket over the two of you and try to go back to sleep.
His body is so warm, it’s almost too hot to lay under the blankets, but the cool air outside chills you, so you’re stuck with a conundrum.
Then you hear Kenobi’s voice.
“Padawans,” he calls.
Anakin stirs at your side, but he doesn’t awaken.
“Padawans!” Kenobi calls more forcefully.
Anakin bolts upright and looks out the tent. “Here, Master,” he says.
“Anakin!” you say, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around you to cover your nakedness.
Anakin pulls his shorts over through the Force and slips them on just as Kenobi comes to the doorway of the tent.
You try to act like you’re sleeping, but it doesn’t work. Kenobi looks in enough to see the state of the two of you, and jerks backwards. His shadow is visible through the tent wall, but you can at least tell he’s not looking in.
“We leave tomorrow,” Kenobi says. “You need to prepare to break down camp in the morning. So tonight I think we need to get the rest of the samples taken care of.”
You let out a sigh. Back to reality. Back to the boring life at the Jedi Temple. Throwing the blanket off yourself, you start picking up your clothes and begin to dress. Back to the torment, the detachment, the loneliness.
You know in your heart that as soon as you get back, Anakin will find you a distant memory, and he will no longer be interested with you, back to his own life of adventure and excitement.
This realization makes you take your time dressing. Anakin on the other hand is quickly clothed and heads out of the tent, an exasperated sigh on his face. You know that means he knows too that the trip is over.
And we’ll be back to being distant shadows to each other in the Jedi Temple.
You sigh again as you slip into your layers and take a few steps out of the tent. Anakin is already packing things up, and you see that he’s dropping his own tent.
What’s he doing, you wonder. Where’s he going to sleep?
Kenobi wonders the same thing. “Padawan, you take down your tent?”
“I won’t need it tonight,” Anakin says.
“And where will you sleep?”
“With her,” he says, pointing at you. Your cheeks flame red, and you stare at him.
You want to run and hide, after all, Kenobi certainly was about to berate Anakin for a good hour. Still your feet remain stuck in their spot.
Kenobi looks over at you, then back at Anakin. “As you wish, Padawan,” he says, then takes the storage bins he’s carrying back into the ship. You stare, your jaw on the ground. And you swear you see a smirk on Kenobi’s face.
When Kenobi’s aboard, you charge over at Anakin.
“What are you thinking?” you snap at him. “Let’s just broadcast to the galaxy what we just did, and…”
Anakin raises his hand. “I think he already knows.”
“Yeah, but let’s make it a big, out in the open thing!”
“You heard what he said,” Anakin said with a shrug as he packed away his tent.
“So, what, it’s okay???” You know that mating wasn’t high on the Jedi Council’s list of things for Padawans to be doing. In fact, there were several thousand other things that the Jedi Council would want the Padawans to be doing.
Anakin stands up to his full height, one hand on his hip, and he stares down at you. “Let’s not ruin our last night here, okay? Can we not get through one day and not fight?”
“But!”
He puts his fingers on your lips, silencing you. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”
You inhale a breath to say something, but you stop. Anakin raises his eyebrow and you shut up.
“Let’s get this stuff stored.” He effectively cuts you off and you turn your back on him, ready to get to work.
Picking up some items and getting them packed away, you try not to think about the next few days. The days where your heart will be broken into thousands of pieces. After all, as soon as you get back, what happened out here will be forever placed in the past.
It’s not like you expect Anakin to fall in love with you, you know better than that. No Jedi can risk the temptation of falling in love. Not without the torture of the loss. As a result, sexual connection is the best you can expect. And after you get back to Coruscant, Anakin will head to his next conquest.
You try not to think about it, focusing on packing up as much as you can. After all, you know the Jedi Code.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no death, there is the Force
You chant the code to yourself over and over, paying especially close attention to the rule about passion.
~~*~~*~~*~~
That night, you retire to your tent, and Anakin follows you in. With your back to him, you strip down and climb into your bed. Anakin soon follows.
He curls up next to you, but he doesn’t say anything for a few minutes.
You roll away from him.
“What is it,” he whispers.
You feel your body go rigid. “I don’t want to go back.”
“We have to.”
“I know.”
He peppers your shoulders with kisses. When you don’t move to respond to him, which takes all your restraint, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you tight against him.
“We should enjoy this night.”
You nod your head. “We should,” you say.
“But?”
“But I don’t know if I can.”
“Why?”
You roll over and face him. “Because, we’ll never have this again, and I doubt that I’ll be able to deal with that well.”
Anakin sighs. “I know.” His fingers make a trail down your arm. “Never again will we be able to sleep in the same bed together.”
You nod your head again, your eyes filling with tears. In that moment, you suddenly feel foolish of all the accusations you posed against him just a few short months ago.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“For?” His finger finds the tear that trickles out of your eye and he wipes it away.
“For all the mean things I said about you, all the accusations.” It is so hard to tell him that, you stumble through the sentence, but you manage to spit it out.
“It is forgotten.” He places a kiss on your forehead. “The hardness you’ve had to deal with during your training made you callous against others.”
You nod your head, more tears escaping your eyes. He wipes them away, and you think you see a small tear creeping up in his eye.
“But it won’t be like that any more,” he said with a smile. The tear trickled down his cheek, and you reached up and brushed it away.
“How can you say that? We’ll be back to the way things were when we return. Mirna will still be there, and all that she does will torment me even further. And you will be off on your missions, away from me, and I will never get to see you again.”
Anakin’s eyebrow went up. “Where’d that come from? You think we won’t see each other again?”
“Why should we? After all, you’ll be away, and I’ll be, well, I’ll still be at the Temple. Probably trying over and over again to pass my trials. I can barely force-jump!”
He whispers your name over and over, placing small kisses on your cheeks and your forehead, and another on your lips. “Do you think I’ll just run off and leave you behind?”
“Well,” you say, afraid to comment, because, frankly, you know it’s true.
He pulls away. “You do! You think I’m going to run off and go after my next conquest, leaving you in the gutter!”
You shrug. Not exactly how you thought it would be, but pretty much.
“I’ll never do that to you!”
“But before, you said…”
“What?”
“You said we’ll never have another night together when we get back!” You stammer at him.
“We won’t! We’ll never get to sleep all night again together. One of us will always have to sneak off and go back to our rooms!” Anakin stares at you for a second. “Did you think… you thought I meant we’d never be together again!” He lets out a deep laugh, looking up at the roof of the tent, laughing so hard, he almost falls off the bed.
You grab him to keep him from falling and he wipes the tears out of his eyes.
“What?”
“Do you really think I’d never want to touch this perfect skin again? That I’d never want to be near you again?” He places soft kisses on your arm, your neck, your shoulder, and your ear.
You stare at him, unable to comprehend what he’s saying. “You mean,” you stammer, stunned by his words, “you mean, you still want to spend time with me when we get back?”
Anakin kisses you on the mouth, a long, luscious kiss that takes your breath. “Does that answer your question?”
You grin, and wrap your arms around him and pull him on top of you, covering him in kisses.
~~*~~*~~*~~
The flight home to Coruscant remained much more relaxed as you and Anakin spent time cornering each other whenever you could and mauling each other without letting Obi-Wan know what you were up to.
Not that you doubted that Obi-Wan didn’t know. He seemed to wear a strange sort of smile on his face all the time, grinning like he had been caught doing something naughty.
Ewww, yucky thoughts…
Anyway, the arrival on Coruscant receives no fanfare with the exception of your master waiting for you just outside the landing platform.
In your head, as you walk toward your master, you hear Anakin speaking to you.
We must have a rematch.
For? You ask.
Be on your guard. You may get ambushed.
You grin, your cheeks flushing, and you try not to look over at him, but you can’t help yourself. And he winks at you.
You suppress a giggle.
As the doors slide open, your master greets Obi-Wan and then gives you a hug.
“And how was she, Master Kenobi?”
“She performed her duties well,” he said with a smile.
You do perform well, Anakin’s thoughts invade yours.
You start giggling, a blush creeping up in your cheeks.
“And she has started uncontrollable giggling,” Kenobi says with a grin to your master.
Your master smiles at him, saying nothing, but some kind of telepathy passes between them. She makes a motion with her hand and you follow her toward your domicile.
“Did you manage to accomplish any writing while you were away?” Your master asks as you step on the lift.
“I did, Master, an epic by my standards.”
“What is it about?”
You hesitate, trying to think of the best reply possible without going into great detail. “Love.”
Her eyebrow raises. “An interesting choice, Padawan.”
“It is a love story, Master.”
“I look forward to reading it.”
“As you wish.”
You ride a few more levels in silence, when your master turns and looks at you. “Where is your Padawan ponytail?” She blinks again. “And how come your hair is so long?”
You smile. “Anakin and I cut them off because our hair had gotten so long.”
She nodded her head. “I see. I like it better a little longer, do you?”
You shrug. “I haven’t really seen myself.”
“Well, you look quite fetching.”
“Thank you, Master.”
~~*~~*~~*~~
Two days later, you return to your classes, sore, tired, and wishing Anakin would have allowed you more sleep since your return. Every night he’s snuck into your domicile, quietly making you writher on your bed, staying with you and talking until the early hours of the morning, then sneaking back to his own chambers to get a small dose of sleep before starting the day.
Even though you both had two allowed days of recovery time, your master kept you busy. Only when you were very lucky did your master let you slip away from her and meet Anakin somewhere for a quick dose of petting and fondling.
You reach your first class of the day, botany.
Gritting your teeth, you walk in to a gasp.
The class stares at you as you approach your old seat. Mirna and her friends just stare at you.
You glance over at Anakin, and wish he hadn’t already got his hair cut back again. It was so silky to touch before, to run your hands through. You also visited the Temple stylist, but you chose to keep your locks, and they now brushed your shoulders, shaggy and wispy. You like it, the ends dance out on their own accord, flipping out and around with a lot of softness.
Anakin likes it as well, smiling at you as you walk in.
You hear the whispers start as soon as you sit down.
What they say, you don’t know, but you try to ignore them. So does Anakin, and you see a twitch in his cheek, his anger burning inside him, and you’re sure he’s about to strike out, when the Master at the front immediately comes over to Mirna.
“Mirna, stand.”
She stands, her shoulders slumped, and she has her head down.
“You have something to say, say it to the room.”
“I only said that I liked her new hair cut.” Mirna’s voice was small and weak, her expression looking fearful and remorseful.
You blink. No way! Did Mirna really say that? Hard to believe, and you want to pinch yourself.
Anakin’s attack mode seems to cool down, but his finger still twitches on the table.
Mirna then turns and faces you. “I have been very mean to you. For that I am sorry, please accept my most humble apologies,” she says, bowing her head as she says your name.
You sit there stunned, at least until Anakin pops you in the arm. She is apologizing? You don’t quite know what you should say. “Uh, I accept your apology.”
Mirna nods her head and sits back down.
You can’t help but stare at her the rest of the class. What in the Force happened to her? Was this all a dream? Did you really die in the cave and all this is a dream?
You leave class, Anakin at your side.
“That was unexpected,” you say as you pass Mirna and her circle of friends. They give you a wide berth, and all of them look rather sullen as you walk by.
“I have no idea what that was all about,” Anakin said, shrugging his shoulders.
You stop and spin around. “Neither do I, but I’ve got to know.” You approach Mirna, her friends parting away from her like a gate.
She nods at you as you approach.
Part of you wants to start yelling at her for all the torment she’s caused you, all the pain, the ache, the anger, the frustration, all of it. Then you look in her eyes. Pure sorrow, pure remorse fills her eyes.
And your desire to berate her immediately dissolves. Whatever happened to her while you were gone had a visible toll on her. Her eyes seemed less conceited, her hair not so glossy, and her posture more slumped and humble. As well as the rest of her friends. All of them looked very much like they regretted everything.
“Mirna,” You say, and her head comes up, her eyes level with yours.
“Yes?”
“I appreciate what you did in there. That took strength to stand up and say that in front of the whole class.”
“You deserve it.”
“A private apology would have sufficed.”
“No, it wouldn’t have,” Mirna said, shaking her head. She spoke to you, her words almost a whisper, as she told you what happened to her while you were gone. You stand there stunned at the words, and you stare at her again, and tears fill your eyes. When she finishes her tale, you embrace her, and you both cry freely on each other’s shoulders for a couple of minutes.
As you let go of her, you say “we’re going to be late for our next class.”
“I know,” she said. She and her group headed down one corridor, and you down another. Anakin waits for you a few meters away, and smiles as you approach.
“What did she say?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say.
Anakin arches his eyebrow at you.
“Let’s just say the Council had a few choice words with her, and a few choice mind-whammies for her.”
Anakin’s eyebrows went up. “Wow.”
“I know.” Then you started to smile. “You want to hear the best part?”
“What’s that?”
“They made her read my poetry.”
“What?”
“They made her read all my tormented poetry, and if the Council’s actions didn’t sink in then, my poems about how ridiculed and such made her see the light in what she was doing.”
Anakin nodded his head. “Well, I’m glad something was done. I didn’t want to have to slice her down.”
You have to laugh at that one.
Anakin pulls you into a corner, and wraps his arms around you, shielding you with his much taller body. “Well,” he kisses your lips, “glad it wasn’t too horrid.” Another long, sensual kiss leaves you craving more and more and more from him, but you both know you have to get to class.
His hands run up your hips, sliding up your tunic to your breasts, and his hands play with the already hardened nipples.
“We could skip out on classes,” he says.
You shake your head. “You of all people do not need to be skipping elemental chemistry,” you say, poking him in the chest.
He smiles at you. “So what made you change your mind? I could tell as you walked over to her you were ready to berate her,” he asks as he releases you and you both start walking down the hall.
“Her eyes were mine,” you reply.
“How so?”
“They begged for just some kindness.” Anakin takes your hand as you walk the rest of the way to class.
The End
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