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lackingspace · 2 years ago

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Lesson in Silence (Kylo Ren x Reader x Knights)

Chapter 3 - Lesson 3

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Crude language, some innuendos, some touching. It's a slowish burn, what can I say.

Author Note: ok, if it wasn't clear before then it is now. Knights are a big part of the plot. I'm taking liberties with their personalities, capabilities, and anything else I feel is within reason. Well just see what happens. As always, thank Tina for giving me inspiration ✨

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

AO3 Link: Lesson 3

Prev Ch: Lesson 2

Narrowing your eyes while pursing your lips at the implication that Albrekh had conned you. He hadn't. Not like you really charged much for mods, especially to people in the first order network, you weren't even supposed to do it in the first place much less take real payment for it.

Albrekh had even slid you more credits than what you'd asked for. He took care of you and you were more than happy to keep him supplied.

You'd actually known him before joining the first order. Long after you'd taken a fabricated background and identity, but still, he was a long-standing contact. Having met him through an arms dealer, Jace.

A Sullustans you'd been selling mods to for quick credits in a bind. He'd had grand plans to broker deals with the combination of yours and Albrekh's work together rather than separately. Able to charge a high price for custom-made fully modded weapons.

Too bad he'd gone missing not long after you were introduced. Word in the network said he'd brokered a deal that went south and hadn't made it out. You'd kept in contact with Albrekh though, he paid well and was good at his craft.

When you came on board as an officer for the order he'd sent you an encrypted message. You'd known he worked for the order somewhere, but you'd never felt the need to ask. Thinking he was offworld or on a base somewhere.

You hadn't realized he must work with the knights regularly.

Every few weeks he was asking for different modifications, he'd even dropped formalities and messaged something generally along the lines of, 'Cardo blew the last one, needs something new.'

"Albrekh didn't say the laser brain who blows my mods was a Knight." You couldn't tell what look he was giving you, but from the cocked hip and head tilt your bet was a smirk, "With the way you're on your knees for Vic, don't think you really mind us." Jaw clenching at the crass remark as you flicked your gaze back in Vicrul's direction.

He straightened up to his full height, still standing close enough that if you wanted to press against his leg it was only a matter of shuffling an inch or so. Tempting. But you dragged your eyes up farther– arms recrossed, he dripped intimidation and power.

All the knights towered over you, but kneeling at his feet made him seem even more massive. The slow lingering draw of your eyes from boot to mask– steady and deliberate, made to be obvious, before turning back to Cardo. You leveled him with a flat look to match your candid tone, "Vicrul's hot."

The guff modulated chuckle from behind you had the corner of your lip flick up into a smirk and stomach clench. Suppressing your smirk in favor of narrowing your eyes at the knight in front of you, "Vicrul hasn't melted my anvil compressor either."

That got a chuckle from Trudgen while Cardo's shoulders tensed at the sound, "She got you there. Thought I'd have to cut your arm off with how warped it was."

Cardo was silent for a few tense moments before he questioned, "The anvil was your make too?" The question held a genuine surprise.

The anvil compressor had happened a few years ago, likely he was surprised you'd made his mods for so long, "Yeah, it was mine." Your sour look melted from your features like he'd done to the mod, "Honestly, I'd bet almost all your mods come from me. Albrekh and I go back long before I joined the order."

Cardo took a step towards you, "The double tap? Shutter shot? Cooling threaded tempo? Those yours?" You gave a nod, "Yeah, heard you really liked the tempo." Tilting your head as you spoke, "Actually, that makes sense. Kinda hard to melt that one." Cardo covered the short distance between the mat and you.

He hadn't said a word as he walked, finally standing in front of you as you looked up towards his masked face, "You've been making my favorite mods for years." Unsure if he was making a statement or if it was a question, you to give a tentative answer of, "...yes?" He reached down with both hands settling on your shoulders before yanking you into a standing position.

"Sorry Vic, I'm gonna borrow your new girl for a minute." You let out a choked noise at the phrase 'your new girl'�� like Vicrul had some claim to you.

But you had just called him hot…and let him manhandle you without protest…ugh, really you shouldn't have enjoyed it…or still quietly entertaining the thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad messing around with him.

He was a Knight for kriffing sake– the group you were hiding from. Something was wrong with you. Today was cursed, that had to be it. First the ghostly master, then the Commander, the knights, and now you'd lost any sense of self-preservation because a guy scratched an itch you hadn't been able to satisfy in years.

The last hour of today seemed like if there was a bad decision you could make, it was your first and only choice.

Chancing a glance back at the man in question had him uncrossing his arms and outstretching one in an expression that said 'be my guest'.

Force only knew what Vicrul would do with your idiotic admission. Sure he was hot, Sure his imposing figure gave you bad ideas, but you didn't need to add jet fuel to the kriffing fire by telling him that.

You highly doubted he'd let it die in this room. You should feel dread and anxiety at the possibility of him, or any of them really, seeking you out after this.

The thing that solidified how much trouble you were in was that the thought of Vicrul chasing after you didn't fill you with cold dread, but instead it was a hot anticipation.

A reckless excitement for whatever he would do. Recklessness was something your master would have been more abhorred at than the liaison you were contemplating.

And she would have been right to do so. This was a bad idea, but your emotional brain was getting the best of you. Damned as soon as you'd felt his want for you to submit. You shouldn't want his attention, any of their attention, force forbid they drew their master's gaze back to you.

With Cardo knowing you were his supplier things were already bound to become more precarious. None of your decisions here had been cautious in any capacity.

"Look, check this out." Cardo had pulled you to a small pile next to the mats. He reached in and pulled his cannon from the floor before handing it to you, "The kinetic feeder housing is too bulky. Doesn't sit comfortably inside like the others– Its ass sticks out of the casing."

Turning the cannon over in your hands, appreciating the solid and deadly design. You'd never actually seen it before, only the blueprints. You were waiting on a question or for him to continue, but when he didn't, you answered with a tentative, "Uh, yeah."

There was a beat before he responded, "Dank ferrik, I want you to fix it, girl." You stared at him in confusion for a second, "Fix…it?" Realization dawned on you, "Do you not read my notes?" It was his turn to sound confused, "Notes?"

Raising one hand to pinch at the bridge of your nose, "Albrekh hasn't given you my notes? Or do you just ignore them?" Silence met you, meaning it could be either one. Trudgen called out from the other side of the mat, "Albrekh probably thought he couldn't read."

You sighed as Cardo shouted expletives at his friend, "Ok, listen," Shooting him a quick glance to make sure you had his attention. At the tilt of his mask you carried on, "This," stressing the syllable as you slid a finger across the edge of the metal sticking up, "is a feature. It doesn't need to be fixed."

Giving him a pointed look before continuing, "The feeder doesn't just utilize excess energy from firing the cannon. It also absorbs blaster fire and converts it to boost your next shot." You expected something from him but were disappointed.

At his silence, you broke it down even more, "Catch blasts with the cannon and this," giving the metal a small flick, "Will retract down signaling it's powered up."

The disbelief came through the helmet's modulation clearly, "You want me to get shot?" Cardo had the ability to get under your skin more easily than most people. Probably because you'd spent years wondering what kind of kriffing prick he had to be to break your work so often.

His brainlessness grated on your already strained nerves which made you careless. Being careless was extremely dangerous. You were breaking all sorts of self-imposed rules this afternoon. The flare of your irritation dulled the logical screaming in the back of your mind to stop talking. Stop heckling. Stop digging your own grave.

The words spat out before you could stop it, "From what I hear you're always getting shot at anyways. Just hold your kriffing arm out." Both Vicrul and Trudgen laughed at your barb.

Cardo's head tilted as he regarded you. Unsure if it was in anger or the plethora of other emotions he, none of them, were supposed to be capable of. The knights should have been cold, cruel, and dead inside. Like all the rumors sprouted about them. Would have been so easy to navigate around them if it had been true.

But they were lively– rowdy, opportunistic, and aggressive, certainly. Overflowing with snide comments that brought out your own attitude. A brattiness that wanted to defy their brutish manner. Even Vicrul's brash assault betrayed a frenzied warmth beneath the manipulation. It drew you in before you had a chance to disconnect.

Master had always hated how emotional you were. Nothing but a liability. And she wouldn't stand for anything compromising the mission– so she'd tried to kill it. Typically you were good at keeping your work and personal relationships nonchalant. Friendly, definitely sarcasm filled, but overall distanced. Seemed like all it took was a domineering group of men to spark your rebellion.

The inspection lasted long enough for you to know whatever he'd say next wasn't good. He turned towards Vicrul as he spoke, "I like this one. When you get tired of her, send her to me." You snorted in disgust and grumbled at the back of his helmeted head, "I'm not fucking you."

Cardo turned back to you. He was large and solid– they all were, but it was then that you consciously registered it about him. The air shifted to something heavy as the cool textured leather of his coat brushed your bare arm as he leaned in. Mask angled down as he caught a stray strand of your hair, "No?"

Jutting your bottom lip out in defiance with narrowed eyes. Speaking in a voice that stressed your finality on the issue, "No." He dropped the strand to pinch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face left and right, "Shame."

Something bloomed in the pit of your stomach that was more than simple embarrassment. A pleasant warmth twisting your gut and flaring that heat his friend had already been fanning. Ripping your face from his grasp to spit out another assertion, "That goes for all of you. I'm not fucking anyone."

Vicrul spoke before the words died in your throat, "We both know that's a lie, princess."

Cheeks flushed with another wave of warmth at the implication and new pet name. Whipping your gaze towards him had you watch as he pushed away from the pillar to roll his neck. He was just as imposing as when you knelt before him. Staring you down when his brash mental presence blindsided your senses again.

"I was going to go easy and save you the embarrassment of begging. You've been more entertaining than these two half-wits." Rolling his shoulders before continuing, "But brats always find a way to get punished." The force pouring the fabricated panic into you at his will. Breath shuttering out of your lungs, biting your lip at the sudden shift of emotions, eyes glued to his form.

Cardo's elbow jabbing sharply into your ribs pulled your attention off your fixation, "Looks like you made daddy mad." Brows instantly furrowed as your nose scrunched in a sneer. His only response was modulated laughter as he moved away, back towards Trudgen. Calling over his shoulder, "Vic's a fan of spanking, your ass is gonna be rawhide before he's satisfied."

Sputtering as Vicrul was still painting your insides with terror, all you could manage was, "Do I want to know how you know what he likes?"

Trudgen answered for him with a shrug, "We're brothers– we talk" his mask hid his gaze, but from the deliberate up and down drag across your form, similar to the one you'd done, there wasn't any doubt what he was doing, "…and we like to share."

Closing your eyes as the admission sent a tingle down your spine and that felt too good mixing with what his brother was doing. It sparked inappropriate thoughts that didn't need to be acknowledged.

Can't I just go back to the kriffing shop? The thought a desperate plea to the invisible force. Or your bunk. You deserve some rest after this whole fiasco. Honestly, if you could rewind today you'd just have stayed in bed. But the force didn't work like that.

When your eyes opened Vicrul was giving you an order in the form of his index finger curling towards himself. At your small step, he pushed another crushing wave against your senses, the dread sliding down your back into the pit of your stomach. He spoke a single word, "Crawl."

Now that the Commander wasn't lurking behind your eyes, you could deal with his influence easier– but you couldn't filter it out completely.

The demand had more heat mixing with the fear. Damn your weakness for men like the Commander; like Vicrul. You'd have to put a stop to this once you left the gym.

A bead of cold sweat ran down your spine. Knowing where the awful sensation was coming from keeping you from true panic, but it still caused a strong physiological reaction.

Feeling his mental presence bashing against your own had you miss the subtlety of his master. But as reckless as you were being, you didn't want Commander Ren anywhere near you, physical or otherwise. No matter how pleasant his lazy strokes felt. You'd take the rudimentary assault of his apprentice.

Vicrul was like a crowbar to a tightly chained door while his master was a lockpick. One decidedly much more dangerous than the other.

Your mind was largely your own with Vicrul. The threat was only marginally less, but you'd take any advantage. Although, you had a sneaking suspicion that Vicrul was more similar to you than you initially pegged him for.

He might not be able to breach your thoughts, but the more time he spent violently lashing against you it gave you opportunity to judge his capabilities without much effort. He could definitely sense your emotions.

The kriffing ass likes this.

Rough laughter from Cardo had you shooting a look of visceral annoyance his way as you slowly complied to Vicrul's demand, "Shut it, Cardo. Next time you short-circuit a processor and the cannon backfires don't expect me to mod for you again." Lowering your voice to just above a whisper as shuffled across the mat, "Kriffing mudscuffer always shorting mods."

His laughter cut off, "What the kriffing hell is Albrekh telling you?" You didn't bother looking at him as you answered, "I get curious when you need mods so damn often. He just tells me how you break them."

Trudgen cut off whatever Cardo would have said, "You're just pissy Vic is giving you what you deserve. Should watch your mouth next time." He was right on both fronts. You were pissed that it seemed impossible to shut your mouth around them. Equally, if not more so, angry at yourself for how easily Vicrul could affect you.

You had to deal with their antics to a degree, but you'd certainly made it worse for yourself by being firey. Something different than the regular sniveling doormat most of your coworkers would have become.

When you finally reached the Knight's side, you looked up in quiet insolence. You might be playing his game, even enjoying how authoritative he was, but you didn't have to be happy about it. He reached a gloved hand down to pat the top of your head in a demeaning way, "Stop pouting, pet. Gives me too many ideas." He looked back to his friends, "Get to grappling or were done here."

Trudgen cracked his knuckles while offhandedly answering, "Impatient Vic?" Cardo chuckled and ribbed him next, "Want to keep her all to yourself, huh?"

There wasn't a verbal response, but you could feel the force twisting off him. This time it wasn't directed your way. Instead, Cardo's spine stiffened as he let out a hissed curse, "Son of a twi'lek whore, Vic! Fuck Kylo for teaching you that shit."

An unexpected hushed snicker left you. It was…amusing? Not quite the right word, but they were all so…casual? The familiarity they spoke to each other with or about each other, even about the Commander, surprised you. It gave a strange normalcy to the highly trained force-sensitive killing squad.

The pressure of the force only increased at the insult, "Fine, fine! We're done, so knock it off. Kriffing hate when you get durasteel up your ass." It was Vicrul's turn to chuckle as you felt his exertion on the force dissipate.

Cardo elbowed Trudgen, "Besides Tru couldn't take another ass kicking." The jab was returned with a kick to the side of Cardo's knee, "Pussy. You're afraid the girly doesn't like you and will lean in my favor." The two men started trading jabs back and forth until they quickly devolved into fighting anyways.

"Enough!" The frustration, or impatience, was dripping from Vicrul's acerbic tone, "Head back to Ren or the ship. I don't care, just fucking leave." The last word was a hiss from his modulated mask leaving no room for arguing.

His comrades didn't seem to take the demand like the threat you interpreted it as. Instead they took their time separating, guffawing echoing off the two as they collected their weapons. Vicrul's hand settled on your shoulder– grip curling around your much smaller frame

Your jaw clenched as you felt the frustration roll off him– with you or the other two occupants, you couldn't determine. The two slowly made their way towards the main entrance of the gym, Trudgen calling behind him, "Don't have too much fun, Vic. Kylo's still expecting us."

Cardo echoed behind him, "Good luck sitting tomorrow, girly. " Their snide snickering the last sound to reverberate off the walls as the plasteel door slid close behind them. As the silence stretched your anxiety skyrocketed. Refusing to look up at the Knight that loomed over you. Being alone with him left too many possibilities. If you looked up at him, you were half afraid you'd act on your earlier desires.

His hand flexed against your shoulder before you were swiftly hauled up and thrown into the nearest wall. It wasn't a gentle toss either, knocking the breath in your lungs clean out. Before you caught your breath Vicrul was crowding in. Arms slammed down next to your head boxing you in. You clenched your jaw as his chest pressed against yours. The heavy texture of his armor easily felt through the thin fabric of your workout top.

"They think I'm going to fuck you." Your brows pinched, hadn't that been why he was so impatient? Holding what you hoped to be his gaze you pressed into him lightly, "Aren't you?" One of his hands lowered to grip your cheeks.

Thumb pressed into one side harshly while his fingers rested against the flesh of your other. The leather softer than you'd expect for as rugged as they looked. The leathery scent surrounding your senses, "Haven't decided if you deserve my cock."

The only thing you could think to say was, "Who's lying now?" He'd made a whole scene earlier, but maybe this what part of the punishment he'd deemed you warranted?

Anxiety was creeping in, settling like a bird making a nest high in your chest, "What else do you need me alone for?" His hand tightened the grip causing your lips to pucker, "I don't need you alone to fuck you. I'd have let them watch."

You choked at his answer, but he continued, "I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to answer."

Fear, real fear trickled through your veins. Cooling your blood and kicking your mind into high gear. Worse still, Vicrul's psychic presence pressed into you. Not bashing, not crashing, not trying to overrun your emotions. Just pressing into your extra sense of self. Soft. Gentle. Controlled. Your heart stuttered at the feel of it.

Where had that been this whole time? You should have listened to your initial instinct, he was dangerous. You forced the words out of your puckered lips "What question?" His presence slid against yours in the same spine-tingly way the Commander had. Panic was setting in and you needed to keep a cap on it otherwise you'd do something rash.

"How are you doing that?" The question caught you off guard. Maybe it was the panic that was scattering your brain, but you were unsure of exactly what he meant or what he was even asking, "Doing what?" It wasn't a lie if you really were confused.

You felt him lap up against you again. And like the Commander, it was a surface graze against your mental defenses. He'd pick up something, but he'd surprised you. You couldn't even assume what it was he'd decipher, "That." He didn't explain, just did the same force slide against your psyche, "How do you feel so…." He trailed off without finishing.

Your stomach dropped and a new wave of fear flooded your system. With a shaky breath you gritted out, "I don't know what you're talking about." He hummed before countering, "I think you do."

This was bad. This was so fucking bad. Bad beyond anything you could have anticipated. Vicrul was too much like you and you hadn't kriffing realized until it didn't matter.

He didn't need to be in your head to shift through memories confirming your past. Didn't even need to listen in on thoughts or feel you reach out into the force and manipulate it. Didn't even matter that your force signature was so subtle as if you were a passive bystander. Trying to follow its flow, hiding between the natural ripples.

None of it mattered with the way he'd interpret the force. He felt things the way you did. Which meant that he wasn't looking for how you reacted to the force– if you reached out to it, used it, he watched how the force reacted to you. It was something outside of your control.

And it was the same way you identified force sensitives.

The only thing that stopped you from breaking cover and using the force to throw him across the room was his own confusion. He was asking you for an explanation, could even feel it in his caresses. Although his grip on your face was firm, you didn't sense any hostility in it…yet.

This didn't make sense to you. How he knew something was off about you, but couldn't pinpoint it? He literally hunted force sensitives across the galaxy…so why…maybe he wasn't as developed as you thought?

When you were young it was harder to pick out the twisting of the force around people. Was it your own signature mingling in your perception? Or were they actually force users. Master had berated you for your turmoil and forced you to learn the art of slicing into someone's mind her way.

But picking up the twisting of the force had always been more natural. Eventually, the distinctions had become easier in identifying people it rippled around without worry you were projecting.

Maybe he was still in that phase? Your heart clenched in bittersweet relief. The Commander had been training him if you could believe Cardo, but you'd been next to the Commander in the lift. If he related in the same way, you doubted you would have left the lift alive.

Vicrul was likely on his own in this. Like you.

It stirred up sympathy he likely wouldn't appreciate. Playing dumb was your only option for now. At least that was the best option you could determine. Voice painted in frustration, "I really don't have a kriffing cule what you're talking about." His fingers tapped against your cheek before he slowly dragged his hand down to your throat.

"Maybe I should spank you." His hand continued down between your breast, trailing your stomach, setting your sensitive nerves on fire, "Or maybe if you give me a good answer," his hand lowered to cup between your legs. Your breath sharp on the inhale, sticking in your throat as your toes curled at the firm grip.

"I can be nice when I want. And your pretty face makes me want to do very nice things to you." He pressed his palm against your core in emphasis. Your hips rocked down into his cupped palm while your thighs clenched at the feeling. "Just tell me who you are."

You rocked against his hand with closed eyes. The pleasant pulse helped settle the panic rising up. Opening your eyes to pin him with as irritated a look you could muster, "I'm a kriffing arms technician." The hushed chuckle was more static and airy thanks to the mask's modulation, "Shame I don't have the time to make you beg."

Lifting your hands to grip the front of his coat, material smooth against your flesh. His own cupped palm between your legs pressed into your again, "You're going over my knee next time I see you." An actual smile cracked your features, "That a promise?"

He pulled his hand away and pried your grip off him before pushing away, "It's a threat." Your back was still glued to the wall as he slowly backed away. You couldn't move as you watched his form head to the same door his comrades had left. He stopped short of the door and spoke, "We'll see who you are," he hit the button to open the panel, "Arms technician."

Your head rocked back to rest against the wall as the door slid shut.

#star wars fanfiction #star wars #kylo #kylo x reader #kylo ren #knights of ren #knights of ren fanfiction #fanfic #star wars fanfic #uhhh are the knights gonna be FWB? Poly? idk #but theyre gonna Get.It.#smut #the force ships it #writing #knights of ren x reader #vicrul x reader

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tatooinebarnes · 2 years ago

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As It Was - Obi-Wan Kenobi (Part 1)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Gender Neutral Original Character

Read on AO3

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: cursing, canon typical violence

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cecil Palmarin have known each other since childhood. and for as long as they can remember they've been pushing down the feelings of affection that always seem to be present between them. But war changes people. And war changes perceptions on what risks you're willing to take.

Gender Neutral Original Character written from their POV. No y/n. Minor allusions to OC presenting as/being socialized as fem. But mostly just their POV.

Asexual Spectrum OC and Obi-Wan

Begins in the Clone Wars, ends in A New Hope

Part 1 (Chapters 1-7)

CH. 1 - Home

Back-to-back with Obi-Wan while reflecting blaster shots had begun to feel like a familiar task, something I did as easy as lacing up my boots rather than a fight for my life.

Perhaps it’s an exaggeration to say that we were fighting for our lives; this Separatist base was ill-prepared to deter the attack of two Jedi and a host of Republic forces and were all but holding the door open for us. The only reason Obi-wan and I were here was to assure that the intel we were seeking was delivered into the hands of the Jedi Council as quickly as possible. Frankly, we were unneeded.

And I wished they had let us stay behind because the falling snow was already piling halfway up my shins and the temperature was steadily dropping as we ventured closer to the base’s main entrance. My hair had broken loose of its tie and was blowing wildly around my face being anything but helpful in deflecting blaster fire. I cursed myself for not making time to do up the braids again before this mission.

The snow fell slowly, a thick blanket muffling the sounds of battle and making everything glow eerily under the blaze of our lightsabers. Finally the blaster fire slowed and I could see our forces setting charges on the main doors. I lowered my saber, letting it fall to my side and click off, breathing hard. Obi-Wan did the same, pushing the long hair I had been begging him to let me trim out of his face.

“Something is wrong,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, his body going rigid as he jumped back into a defensive stance.

I reached out and could feel it too, a sudden shift in the Force, a dark presence that had been slyly concealing itself. At the same moment, the charges set on the base’s doors went off, spraying debris and clouding the air. Blaster fire emitted from the now gaping hole and as our own forces returned fire a red saber lit up within the smoke.

“Ventress,” I said definitely. It was rumored she was in this system but no one had thought she would be on this planet, let alone this little outpost.

“Unfortunately,” Obi-Wan muttered, “this just got a whole lot more complicated.”

“You don’t say?” I said, rolling my eyes before refocusing on where Ventress’s slim figure was emerging from the cloud of debris.

Even from afar, I could see Ventress was pink in the face and feel her aversion to this god-forsaken ice planet. Nobody wanted to be here, least of all the foreboding periwinkle woman. On that subject I agreed with her; this was far too cold a place to call inhabitable.

“Cecil-” Obi-wan started, his tone annoyed.

“Don’t ‘Cecil’ me, Obi-Wan,” I said badly impersonating him, my own accent fading poorly when I tried to conceal it, “I am not Anakin. Or Ahsoka. You can’t scold me for sassing you. How many times must I remind you of that?”

“You are insufferable,” Obi-Wan said, humor creeping into his voice and he spared a glance at me, eyes crinkling.

Ventress had spotted us almost immediately and I could feel her anger growing. I had crossed her path only once before and that occasion had resulted in the death of far too many clones and a saber burn across my forearms. But today, she was mad.

She met us with smashing hacks, lightsaber crackling as anger rolled off her in waves, seething in a way that seemed to surprise even Obi-Wan. But he recovered quickly, easily retaliating against her attacks, the two of us soon gaining the upper hand.

I had the feeling that the entire compound had stopped to watch; two Jedi carefully navigating an enraged Sith, all three stumbling through the growing snow drifts. The more we gained control the madder she became, her attacks sloppy but annoyingly effective. She was moving so fast that even with our combined attack everything was beginning to blur, only our trust in the Force keeping us from falling beneath the scarlet blade. But it was only a matter of time before one of us made a mistake.

The first mistake was Ventress’s - leaving her side unguarded - earning her deep, sizzling mark from Obi-Wan. But the second mistake was mine - assuming that she would recoil instead of attack - a mistake which sent me flying across the compound, the smell of burning flesh accompanying me.

“Cecil!” I heard Obi-Wan’s voice yell, but knew nothing else but a searing pain along my right side.

–

I woke from the memory gasping, sitting up so fast I almost knocked my head on the bunk above me. Ahsoka was staring at me, bent to my level and grasping my hands.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice anxious.

Unconsciously I reached up to where what was left of my ear tingled, tracing the scar of the saber burn down my neck to where it disappeared beneath my tunic. My other hand automatically reached up to feel my other ear, as if it would disappear without my noticing.

“Another nightmare Master Palmarin?”

“Yes,” I said, still unable to fully catch my breath and unwilling to lie to her, “the same one as always. I doubt it will ever go away.”

Her gaze softened, “It’s only been four and a half months. The burn is barely even healed.”

I nodded but did not share her sentiment. A series of long soaks in a bacta tank had healed the wound enough that it did not hinder my movement much and I could hide that half my ear was missing, but the pink scar still stood out against my dark skin, painfully obvious anytime I caught a passing reflection of myself. I wondered if it would ever really fade to something that only I could see instead of being the glaring reminder that I had almost died, Ventress had escaped and that the whole mission had failed because of my mistake.

Ahsoka did not press any further but gave my hands a squeeze as she got up and headed back to the cockpit, “We’re coming in on the rendezvous point. Anakin requested we join them on the planet’s surface instead of boarding their cruiser to transfer the supplies since they’d have to bring it down anyway.”

I nodded and followed her, eternally thanking the gods that Anakin’s Padawan was responsible beyond her years and could be trusted to pilot the cargo ship while her superior had nightmares about things they should not fear.

“I’m not going to lie Master Palmarin,” Ahsoka said without looking at me as she guided the ship onto the landing pad “You don’t look so good. Are you sure you should be doing all this with that wound?”

“I’m sure,” I replied, refusing to dwell on the way I could see that my reflection in the windshield looked tired, my dark complexion lacking its usual glow. Instead, I let a smile form as my gaze caught on two familiar robed figures on the landing pad, the bearded one’s grin visible from afar.

–

“General Palmarin. Commander Tano,” a trooper saluted us as we exited the ship, “Good to see you both again.”

I nodded in return, not recognizing his identification number and did not have time to ask his name before being enveloped in a bone crushing hug. To my own dismay, I did not conceal my flinch in pain well enough and Obi-Wan immediately retracted his grip, holding me at arm’s length looking immensely guilty.

“Cecil I’m so sorry- I keep forgetting-” he started.

“It’s alright. It’s still just a little tender sometimes,” I said, smiling widely at him, feeling giddy to see that ever-present amusement in his expression. He always seemed to be looking at me like we were sharing a personal and deeply hilarious joke, a gaze that never quite left me.

Obi-Wan almost unconsciously reached up to tuck one of my long braids behind my still existent ear but quickly retracted his hand looking embarrassed.

“It’s good to see you,” I smiled, pushing my feeling of joy at him through the Force. He smiled wider this time and wrapped me in another short hug.

Anakin broke in across his former Master’s light grip, his hug less invasive than Obi-Wan’s but genuine never-the-less, “I hope you’re ready to give Snips back because I am getting tired of taking orders from General Serious-Business-Only.”

I chuckled and caught Obi-Wan’s eye as he frowned, only making me laugh harder, “I’m sure General Serious-Business-Only could find some excuse to lighten up.”

Anakin grinned wickedly, the sort of grin that told me he already had something up his sleeve and he just needed someone of authority to egg him on. Sometimes I wondered why he was allowed to have a Padawan.

“The High Council of this planet is hosting a celebration tonight in thanks for you dropping medical supplies and our involvement in keeping their planet ‘Separitist free.’ How about staying for the night instead of leaving now?”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan started, the signature scolding tone entering his voice.

“Come on Master, it will be FUN,” Anakin continued.

When Obi-Wan did not have an immediate comeback Anakin nodded curtly, bouncing on his toes, “it’s been decided then! We’re staying for the night. Come on Snips, let’s go join the party.”

We watched them go, Obi-Wan frowning with his arms crossed.

“It really won’t hurt to stay the night,” I said, nudging him in the ribs, “Ahsoka hasn’t slept since we left Endor. She deserves a good rest.”

“That goes for you too,” Obi-Wan smiled, “Get some good sleep.”

Before I could respond, Anakin's voice crackled over Obi-Wan’s comm link, “And don’t you two even think of going to bed early. Tonight is for celebration.”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan started in the same exasperated voice.

“And yes, I promise to get Ahsoka to bed at a reasonable hour. She needs the sleep. But also a little fun in her life. And so do you.”

I laughed at the expression on Obi-Wan’s face, “We’re at war, Anakin.”

“Yes I know Master, that’s why you have to take any opportunity you can get.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes again and this time I couldn’t resist joining him.

–

The four of us were perched on barstools, crammed around a small hightopped table clearly not meant to have four Jedi leaning on it, especially with the way Anakin kept excitedly gesturing. The celebration was in full swing around us, the room a blur of pale blue-skinned natives dancing, eating and conversing as we remained the only stationary point.

“You know,” Anakin started, letting his glass hit the table a little too hard. “I am really a very responsible teacher. I never let Ahsoka do anything I think she can’t handle.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow like he wanted to protest but didn’t want to offend Ahsoka.

“Except for the time-” Ahsoka started.

“I knew you could handle it-” Anakin interrupted a frown of annoyance forming a crease between his brows.

“Oh? And what was that?” I asked grinning mischievously.

“Nothing.” Anakin and Ahsoka said together.

“See now you have my interest sparked,” I said, already knowing we would not be getting this story out of them anytime soon.

“It was just a little miscommunication, and things got a little…. hairy.”

“I see….” Obi-Wan mumbled, “Probably something I’ll be hearing about later and have to reprimand you for?”

Anakin grinned, briefly catching Ahsoka’s eye, “Yeah, probably.”

I shook my head with amusement, reveling in the dynamic the three shared. I knew them all well individually, but I rarely got to see them all together. They exuded a joy and glow that was rare in the midst of the war, a sense of home that seemed to travel with them wherever they went. When they were together they made everyone around them feel like they were in on some hilarious practical joke that was always at the precipice of occurring. Never before within the Jedi Order had I felt quite so at home.

“Cecil! Are you listening?” Anakin said, waving a hand in front of my face, “They’re playing your favorite song.”

I zoned back in to discover that Anakin was right: this little planet on the edge of the galaxy had somehow managed to dig up an old relic far outside their culture to play at the exact moment that we happened to be on-planet. I all but jumped to my feet, unable to stay stay seated as the familiar baseline filled the room.

“Did you request this?” I asked, feeling that the grin on my face was one none of them had seen for far too long.

Anakin grinned back and glanced conspiratorially at Obi-Wan, “No, but I do know someone who did.”

“Obi-Wan! You remembered!” I said a little too loudly, causing the people around us to stare as I leaned over the table to grasp his hands and tug him off his stool.

“Cecil no-”

“Oh relax, you requested the song. You’re required to dance now,” I laughed, pulling him after me into the throng of people in the center of the room where the tables had been pushed to the side. I flailed my arms in a way that I knew would look ridiculous in hopes I could at least get him to crack a smile.

The tactic worked and he seemed to relax a little, letting himself bob up and down on the balls of his feet to the beat of the music. Unsatisfied, I did not let go of his hands, instead forcing them to move, forcing him to at least move his upper body to the music a little. I could hear Anakin laughing and Ahsoka giggling but I couldn’t see anything else but the amused way Obi-Wan was smiling as if it took all his restraint to not burst out laughing.

“You can laugh, you know. I do look ridiculous. We look ridiculous,” I said.

“That is precisely what I’m worried about,” he deadpanned, still looking extremely uncomfortable with having been dragged out into the throng of dancing blue people, their smaller builds leaving us towering over them and making us stand out.

“No one else is here. No one to tell on you if you have a little fun,” I prompted, “and I think Anakin and ‘Soka will bother you more about it if you don’t at least pretend to have fun.”

We both looked back at Anakin and Ahsoka to find that they had disappeared, probably in search of the drinks we had forbidden them from seeking. I frowned but their lack of presence seemed to make Obi-Wan more comfortable and he finally started to move, his feet actually shuffling along the ground as he danced.

Maybe ‘danced’ was a strong word. It was more of just moving his limbs in a way that made them slightly off beat but somehow managed to not look completely ridiculous. By the end of the song we were hanging off each other, breathless and giggling like little kids.

The last note of the song faded and the moment of unadulterated joy faded, bringing us back to reality. The next song picked up slowly, something obviously more familiar to our hosts but also obviously meant for slow dancing. They all coupled up and began slow promanaudes around the room before I could even register that we might want to excuse ourselves. In an instant it was too late and we were the only ones in the middle of the crowd not swaying to the music alongside a partner.

Much to my surprise, Obi-Wan bowed low before me, offering his hand and said in a serious tone, “Would you care to dance Master Palmarin?”

“How could I refuse Master Kenobi?” I grinned accepting his hand.

Although I had been holding his hands only moments before in our fervent excitement of my favorite song, this felt forbidden, like something we were not allowed to partake in. A blush rose in my cheeks and all the way through my ears and I hoped that the fact my braids were beginning to frizz out would hide it. However, Obi-Wan’s lips tilted up into a half smile like he noticed and I felt his presence in the Force shift, falling from the unorganized joy he had been exuding to a carefully masked affection that I was immediately sure he had not meant to let me feel.

The blush rose higher in my cheeks as one of his hands fell on the curve of my waist and the other remained carefully wrapped in mine. I placed my free hand on his shoulder, the familiar feeling of Jedi tunics suddenly alien when I was touching someone else’s.

He led, slowly weaving out of the center of swaying couples, spinning us in slow revolutions around the room. Not for a moment did he break eye contact and not for a moment did I want him to. When he had spun us to the edge of the crowd and could lead us no further he stopped as if he’d been prepared for everything up to that moment. He took his eyes off me for a half second to search the room behind me and I could feel him reaching into the Force, checking for Anakin and Ahsoka. When he did not seem to find them he returned his gaze to mine and I could all but hear his heart hammering in his chest.

The blush in my cheeks had risen so much I was sure I was looking like an ripe tomato and I couldn’t even begin to effectively push it down because my heart was fluttering just as fast as Obi-Wan’s. A curious desire to hug him closer came over me, to pull him down to where I could study each and every detail of the light blue eyes that were searching my hazel ones so intently.

Instead I settled for letting my other hand come up to rest on his neck, his long hair hiding the fact that I was practically hanging off him. Both his hands on my waist now, the subtle weight of them feeling completely right and natural despite the little voice in the back of my head that would not stop repeating “Jedi Do Not Form Attachments.”

“I hope you know, Obi-Wan whispered, his breath hot across my face, “I never feel more at home than with you.”

“Obi-Wan-”

“I won’t say anything else compromising,” he said, his eyes twinkling as they remained locked on mine, “but I want you to know.”

I let my hands wander up to cup his face, “Don’t say that out loud. Because then I’d never be able to unhear it. And I’ll never want to leave home either.”

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath, his eyes closing as he leaned his head into my right hand. After a moment he turned his head just enough so his lips brushed my palm, a motion that sent an involuntary shiver through my whole body.

He remained silent and unmoving for the smallest moment before opening his eyes. His hands came off my waist to grasp my wrist, pulling my hand away. My fingertips trailed down his face like the tears I felt like crying before falling between us where he held my hands in his.

“You’re right, Cecil, you’re always right.”

I smiled, my voice low and on the verge of breaking, “I know.”

---------------------------------------

Ch. 2 - Not A Secret

Obi-Wan sat atop the Jedi Temple, legs crossed and deep in meditation. If his eyes had been open he’d have seen the slowly fading light as it began to cast long shadows over Coruscant. This late in the year the far off edges of the great city were shrouded in smog, a glittering haze that was invisible up close.

The sounds of the Temple district were far off, the dull roar of the deep cityscape almost unnoticeable to Obi-Wan’s ear. Up here it was easy to let everything else go and simply float, let the Force wash over him. The gnawing pressure of the war could almost be pushed away, so far he could barely feel the haunting tension.

Abruptly his concentration was broken, footsteps appearing before him. His eyes snapped open to find Cecil looking down at him.

“Wow, startling THE Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Cecil grinned.

Obi-Wan chuckled, “Only because I wasn’t expecting anyone up here.”

“You’re always up here. It’s not like it’s a secret.”

“And I thought I was being discreet about my meditation spot.”

Cecil smiled, sinking to the ground in front of him and pushing forward a paper cup full of caf, “I heard a rumor there’s a Council meeting later.”

Obi-Wan ducked his head in thanks, “Yes, there is. But nobody has told me when.”

“Rude of them, seeing as you are on the Council.”

“Which means they want something from me,” he said, eyes sparkling. He returned his gaze to Cecil, briefly getting distracted by the way they nearly glowed backlit by the sunset.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Cecil asked. Obi-Wan noticed the way they fidgeted with their own paper cup; the folded edge had been unrolled and rerolled into a mangled depiction of its original form.

“Nothing,” he said, careful to maintain a level tone, “the sunset is just so incredible this time of year.”

Obi-Wan thought he caught a smile creep across Cecil’s features as they turned away, long braids swaying. He had to force himself to not stare, but even still, a stab of guilt flashed through him as the movement revealed the still pink saber burn. Nearly seven months later it still looked painful.

“It’s rude to stare you know,” Cecil said without looking at him.

Obi-Wan blanched, feeling like he had been doing an excellent job not staring.

Cecil turned back, this time carefully pulling the many long braids away, exposing the saber burn where it descended into their tunic. With a clearer view, Obi-Wan could tell the wound was healing, that it no longer looked nearly as painful as it had been. But it would scar. A remembrance of those terrible moments. And to think he could have stopped it-

“I know you’re thinking you could have prevented it,” Cecil said, their voice interrupting his thoughts.

“You know it's possible.”

“But it didn’t happen that way. I’ll always have this wicked scar cracking me open.”

“That makes it sound so dramatic,” he said.

“When am I not dramatic?” Cecil asked, taking a sip of the caf and wrinkling their nose, “what does the Temple have against having good caf?”

“Everything apparently,” Obi-Wan said, taking a swig of his own and making a similar face.

Abruptly, Cecil’s comm crackled, “Master Palmarin, yousa needed inda council chambers.”

They sighed deeply before responding, “Yeah, I’ll be right down Jar Jar.”

“Roger roger,” his voice replied.

Not two seconds later Obi-Wan’s comm went off, “Master Kenobi, yousa also needed inda Council chambers.”

Cecil choked on the caf, attempting to stifle a giggle; only Jar Jar would be so bold to assume they were always together. Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up and the humor was clear in his voice when he replied, “Will do.”

“Whatsa so funny?” Jar Jar asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Obi-Wan said, trying to hide his light hearted tone.

“Iffen yousa say so,” he replied, the line going silent.

“I guess they want something from me too,” Cecil said with a grin.

“The rumors circling are about an undercover-ish mission,” Obi-Wan started.

This time Cecil’s eyebrows shot up and Obi-Wan swore he felt a leap in their Force signature, “Do you think they’d really send us on another mission together after what happened last time?”

Obi-Wan frowned, “It was not our fault Ventress showed up. And every other time we’ve been on stuff together we’re literally unstoppable.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous,” Cecil laughed, “Anakin is finally rubbing off on you.”

He laughed too, a feeling of warmth spreading across his chest as their voices echoed across the otherwise empty rooftop, “I guess he is.”

“Good,” Cecil said and flashed a smile that Obi-Wan somehow felt was only meant for him.

---------------------------------------

Ch.3 - Preparations

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Anakin said looking around the council chamber with a disbelieving grin, “Those two? As a couple? No one is going to buy that.”

I felt my face go hot and my fingernails bit into my palm. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Obi-Wan shift in his seat and almost imperceptibly felt his Force signature change to match mine: a deep annoyance that well obscured the shock of excitement.

Padmé’s hologram glared at him, “Fortunately, no one asked you Anakin.”

This time it was Obi-Wan’s turn to hide his grin. Even Master Windu’s mouth twitched. I bit my lip but only wished that I’d been the one who said it.

“I only meant,” Anakin said quietly, “that everyone in the galaxy knows who they are. That they’re friendly with the Senator.”

“Yes,” Master Yoda said, “but young Skywalker. You everyone will expect to see. But suspect a regal and powerful warlord couple they will not.”

The look on Anakin’s face was priceless but he rearranged it so quickly that I doubt anyone but myself and Obi-Wan recognized it: a mix between awe and horror that Yoda would so blatantly hint at something more between the Senator and himself.

“If I may interject,” Obi-Wan said before Anakin had the chance to say anything he’d regret, “Anakin does have a point. Especially with all three of us, that combination is to be expected.”

Yoda nodded thoughtfully as if he had not already considered this at length.

“As well known as you think, Master Malmarin is not. Their job discreetly they do,” he said nodding to me, “and disguises you will have.”

“And that is where I come in,” Padmé said, “You’ll both be unrecognizable out of your Jedi robes. I’m arriving in Coruscant shortly and will get you all ready before we depart for Naboo.”

I raised my eyebrows, not even daring to ask what lavish outfits the former Queen of Naboo had stored away that would coincidentally be my size.

“And why does this meeting have to be on Naboo again?” Anakin interrupted again.

“To show them we trust them. Enough to invite them into my home,” Padmé explained, barely hiding her exasperated tone.

“But couldn’t we meet them in some neutral system where you and your family are not at so great of risk?

“It’s an olive branch, Anakin. Whether we like it or not, it is the best course of action to get this system on the side of the Republic,” Obi-Wan said, making far less effort than Padmé to hide his exasperated tone.

Yoda seemed to care little for this exchange, “Prepare Master Kenobi and Master Palmarin, Senator Amidala will. And to Naboo follow they will.”

Seeing it would do no good to argue, Anakin was content to frown and glare menacingly as the rest of the plan was laid out.

It was simple really. Obi-Wan and I in disguise. Anakin seemingly the only protection to the Senator in the midst of a potentially hostile environment. A dinner over which politics would be discussed. The guests to sleep in an elaborate lakeside villa. And on their way the next morning after another round of political discussions over a lavish meal. What could go wrong?

---------------------------------------

CH. 4 - Chemistry POSTED

When Padmé arrived on Coruscant I did my best to be late meeting her, purposely taking the long route to her landing pad. But I still had to pretend to not see Anakin’s speeder take off, pretend I did not see the flushed look of joy on Padmé’s face.

“Good evening Senator,” I said, shaking her hand, “I trust you’re well?”

“No need to stand on guard Cecil,” she said grinning “I’d like to think we’re friends by now.”

“Of course,” I laughed, “I just still feel like I should greet you with formality.”

“Well don’t feel that way. Especially when I’m about to make you stand around in your underwear for far longer than you’re comfortable in effort to find the perfect outfit for you.”

I frowned, having not considered this.

“Don’t worry,” she said, grabbing my arm and whispering conspiratorially, “I’ve sent Master Kenobi his own squadron of people to get him ready. It will just be you and my personal handmaidens.”

“I see,” I said, my frown deepening as I watched the handmaidens unload a multitude of elaborate trunks from her ship, all of them clearly full of clothing.

Arriving in her personal quarters, Padmé slammed the doors shut for effect and skipped ahead of me.

“Now,” she said, dramatically tossing her overcoat, “not only am I outfitting you, I’m helping you to prepare and embrace your role as a hopelessly in-love warlord couple who are so regal and stunning that no one would dare speak to them without a reason of utmost importance.”

I frowned crossing my arms across my chest, “I-”

“Nope!” she said cutting me off, “that’s step number one. No crossing your arms. You’re practically royalty for the next seventy-two hours. You have to stop carrying yourself like a Jedi.”

“But-”

“First lose the Jedi robes. And then we’ll work on the rest.”

“Padmé-”

She had crossed the room and began undoing my robes a little too expertly, ignoring my protests. Without the full weight of my Jedi robes I felt naked, not just in the sense of lacking clothing but that I could not remember a time without them.

“Here,” she said, handing me a small pile of clothes, “put this on. You’re a filthy rich warlord. No Jedi undergarments allowed. And when you’re done, I think you’ll like the first outfit on the top here,” she said, gesturing to one of the sprawling suitcases that seemed to be exploding clothing all over the room.

I nodded, turning away in an attempt at privacy. This made Padmé roll her eyes but she retreated from the room, leaving me momentarily alone.

Half dressed and struggling to right the deep purple garment that had been laid out for me, I struggled as one of Padmé’s handmaidens appeared. The woman was taller than Padmé if only by a fraction but eerily resembled the Senator. I knew she had a decoy but I was not aware they spent so much time together.

“Let me,” the woman said, her fingers reaching past mine to rearrange the fabric and close the final zipper.

She spun me around so I faced the mirror. Someone I did not recognize stared back.

They were tall and regal, their hair teased into its natural style creating a magnificent halo around their head. The jewelry Padmé had chosen glittered brightly as the handmaiden slipped it on the person in the mirror, their wrists adorned with heavy gold bangles and an equally impressive set of necklaces settled on their neck.

The outfit itself hugged the figure in the mirror tightly around the torso, the neckline covering far less than I had ever imagined showing. At the waist it flowed away from them in a way I was sure would fan when they walked and give the impression of having great violet wings. It was sleeveless, or what could pass as sleeveless save for the draping of fabric attached at each shoulder that cascaded down to meet the rest of the garment.

“I picked you something you could still fight in,” Padmé said reappearing, “I hope it’s not too much. If you don’t like it I have a couple other options.”

I stared at myself a second longer, “It’s beautiful Padmé,” I whispered, “I barely recognize myself.”

“That is exactly the intent darling Cecil. And you look absolutely jaw-dropping, I can’t wait until Obi-Wan sees you.

I felt my jaw drop but quickly snapped it shut.

“Dormé,” she said addressing her handmaiden, “Go fetch Obi-Wan will you? He should be ready by now.”

Dormé nodded curtly and disappeared from the room, leaving us alone together.

“Did you think my choice of Jedi I requested as protection was random Cecil?” Padmé all but whispered, “I’m not about to prod in your business, but you have chemistry. And I needed chemistry for this to work.”

I flushed. It had never occurred to me that someone else might have noticed the thing I’d been trying so hard to quiet within myself.

“Does anyone else know that?” I asked, my voice quiet and wavering.

“Of course not,” she said cheerily and patted my hand, “Only you. Because if I told Obi-Wan he’d simply combust of awkwardness.”

“I mean-”

Padmé looked at me steadily before striding out of the room, “Life is fleeting Cecil. Don’t miss out on something because of someone else’s rules you aren’t sure you believe in.”

I stood staring after her, my hands all the sudden shaking.

The door creaking open pulled me out of my momentary stupor, Obi-Wan’s figure emerging.

The attire Padmé had chosen for Obi-Wan was far less extravagant than my own, but so far from something Obi-Wan would choose himself that it disguised him well. It was a deep purple, almost black, but the satin shone brilliantly. Similar to my own, the outer layer cascaded down behind him, flowing in an invisible wind when he moved. Underneath was an even darker, yet still purple tunic and trousers. The tunic was of the same satin fabric that looked fit for royalty. Which is exactly what we were pretending to be, so I supposed it was intentional.

Even from the way he was walking I could tell Obi-Wan was deeply uncomfortable outside of his typical dress but the look suited him. It changed the energy he exuded, less Jedi Master, more warlord with enough money to drown in.

And he had shaved, the clean shaven face making him look younger, more like the way he looked when I had met nearly two decades ago. Nothing could erase his old soul though, the way smile lines gathered around his eyes just as they always had. As a teenager I’d remarked on them once and he had blushed as his hand went up to feel them. I think he knew I was telling him I loved the way he smiled because I remember that being the first time I really felt his presence in the Force bloom with happiness.

I shook my head, trying to displace the memory. It scattered only to be replaced with the real thing, Obi-Wan’s smile bringing me new confidence in my outfit.

“You look stunning darling,” Obi-Wan said, not even resisting adding the pet name.

“As do you,” I smiled, reaching up to adjust the satin collar of his shirt, “I’m glad you agreed to this particular outfit.”

He let me do so before catching my hand in his, bringing it to his lips and bowing low, “Only so that I don’t look like a peasant next to you.”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks and broke our eye contact with nervous laughter not knowing what to say.

Padmé did me the grace of clearing her throat and Obi-Wan dropped my hand, shooting me a wink. For a moment Padmé circled us observing, trying to decide if we would pass someone other than the Jedi we were.

“I think the mullet has to go,” she said suddenly to Obi-Wan.

“What!” he exclaimed, his hand flying to his hair.

“I think people know you too well for it. At least since the war. You already look much different without the beard, but I think a touchup to the hair will help.”

Obi-Wan frowned like she had personally offended him.

“Thank you Padmé. I have been begging him to let me cut it.”

“But I just now got it to fit into a hair-tie,” he started.

“You sound like Anakin,” Padmé laughed and I could tell she said it just to stop Obi-Wan from protesting anymore, “Go change out of these outfits both of you. I’ll have Dormé package them up for you. And a couple other outfits to lay low in.”

“Yes ma’am,” Obi-Wan said, saluting her.

Padmé laughed and swatted him on the shoulder, “Just go. And cut that mullet off.”

I saluted her as well, earning us another grin before she disappeared.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near my hair Cecil,” Obi-Wan said matter of factly.

“Okay,” I smiled, biting my lip, “I’ll take you to the best barber I know.”

Obi-Wan groaned but didn’t protest. I swore I caught a hint of a smile as he left the room.

---------------------------------------

Ch. 5- Varykino Villa

The looping hallways of Varykino Villa had sated my nervousness; I felt I was sinking into the place, the part I was playing becoming more and more real. Obi-Wan had taken my hand, holding it like it was the most normal thing in the galaxy. For a fleeting instant I could see us standing together in some other life, some version of ourselves that did not involve the Jedi Order and was just us living on some gorgeous planet where no one ever bothered us.

“You still with me?” Obi-Wan asked, squeezing my hand.

I shook my head, sending the images scurrying away, “Sure am. Let’s go husband.”

He leaned in so only I could hear, “Let’s go Mx. Kenobi.”

—

As the night wore on, I couldn't help but wonder why nothing had gone wrong. Nothing ever went this right. No one had even looked sideways at Padmé. No one had squinted at us in recognition. The political discussions were going swimmingly. And I was giddy with joy at getting to spend the evening hanging off Obi-Wan’s arm.

Anakin and Senator Amidala had long since disappeared and I was beginning to think that this was all a ploy to get Anakin on-planet where the two could excusably be alone together. Obi-Wan pretended not to notice their absence and I pretended not to notice the way he had averted his gaze every time he saw them. I imagined that he deliberately shoved away any memories of other times his former Padawan sat too close to the regal Senator or gave her too long of a hug.

Everything added up now. I’d always pretended not to notice the way Anakin’s presence in the Force burst with life anytime Padme was in the room, the way he never stopped looking at her, the way he had been so nervous to meet her again for the first time all those years ago. Even the image of little Anakin rose in my mind, the way Obi-Wan had told it, Anakin’s eyes took in Padme as if she were an angel coming to rescue him.

But tonight with the evidence staring me in the face, I came to the same conclusion that I suspected Obi-Wan had: as long as it never directly interfered with Anakin’s official duties, he could pretend it wasn’t happening before his eyes. Because they needed Anakin far more than the Jedi Council needed to know that Anakin had fallen in love with the Senator.

As the evening progressed, Naboo’s sunset faded, only one moon reflecting onto the lake now, the guests slowly vanishing into Varykino Villa’s many rooms. Only the occasional wanderer in search of a midnight snack appeared, but scurried away upon catching sight of the two sharing a plate of food on the grand balcony overlooking the lake.

At least that was my impression of the one child who wandered into the room behind us and all but ran away when we turned to look.

“I’d turn and run too if I saw you backlit by moonlight and glowing so ethereally,” Obi-Wan said without looking at me.

I felt a blush rise on my cheeks, “Ah yes, because I am oh so angelic with my hair in desperate need of taming and a good night’s sleep.”

I didn’t look at him either. It felt safer to tease him without looking for risk he’d see right through me, for fear that he would sense that I wanted him to continue, to tell me everything about how he thought I was angelic in his eyes.

Obi-Wan set down the glass of wine he had been nursing, the dark red substance glittering in the twinkling light of the moon, “Cecil, you’re always angelic.”

I mentally berated myself for the shot of joy the words gave me, the warm flame of affection I’d been snuffing out making a new attempt to surface. An involuntary shiver passed through me and I thought about how Naboo’s summer was cool this year, uncharacteristically so according to Padme. But after the earlier rainstorm, the clouds had vanished and left the outlook onto the lake clear. With our backs to one of the intricately carved pillars of the balcony we were almost touching, our arms balancing careful millimeters away from each other.

“Are you cold?” he asked after a second when I did not respond.

“No. Just tired.”

“Let’s go to bed then. We still have a long breakfast full of more politics tomorrow.”

I nodded and accepted his hand as I stood up and we made our way back to our rooms.

With my hand in Obi-Wan’s, my head was swimming. Neither of us had consumed anything alcoholic but it felt like I was somewhere else, not in the moment anymore, like a memory surfacing so clearly I could feel it. A moment seemingly outside of time, a dream.

We were on some planet in a far off system, no one recognized us. The planet’s summer weather was just beginning and it was one of those evenings where a careful coolness sets in after the sun sets. The balcony doors of our room opened onto the countryside sprawled out below to meet the nearby town. And save for the birds, we were alone.

“Can you undo this? It’s stuck in a knot,” Obi-Wan complained, flopping dramatically into a chair.

I turned from beginning to unbutton my own clothes to look at him, shaking my head, “you know, I really had thought you’d know how to at least undo a tie if not tie it up.”

Obi-Wan frowned, “I think the issue is that I did it wrong and now it won’t come untangled,” he said, gesturing to the now wrinkled and disheveled garment.

I rolled my eyes but crossed the room to where he sat, standing in front of him just close enough to slip my fingers underneath, working it loose from the knot he’d managed to wrestle it into. Chin tilted up to allow me to untangle it, I could feel his eyes steadily searching my face but I stubbornly refused to meet his gaze, focusing intently on the issue at hand.

“You’re right,” I said, “there is no way this was correct in the first place.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice flying up an octave, “Just because I can’t tie a tie doesn’t mean I’m not a gentleman.”

After a moment the garment came free and fell into my hands. Obi-Wan did not stop looking at me and I suddenly felt it was very obvious that I was refusing to meet his gaze. Instead of meeting his eyes, I handed him the tie and lifted my hands again to straighten his collar.

Even though I wasn’t meeting his eyes I could feel his smile; it reached out to me through his Force signature. And Obi-Wan was doing nothing to conceal the affection in it.

He seemed to sense the moment I realized this, like he was waiting for me to see it, waiting for me to realize that right here on this planet in the middle of nowhere he was holding nothing back.

“Cecil,” he said, not whispering, but sure, confident that everything he was doing was alright, permissible even.

“Cecil, will you look at me?” he asked finally, standing and lifting a hand to gently grip my chin. Meeting his gaze I found the soft blue sea that I so desperately wanted to get lost in. As I did so, that seemed to bring him to a decision, his presence in the Force suddenly softening, a wall that I hadn’t known he’d been holding suddenly no longer there. The bright warmth of his presence felt like the first day of sunshine after a cold winter, something I could never replicate elsewhere. He’d brought down this wall before, but only just enough to peak past. Now I could see everything.

As he stood, I let my hands trail down his neck and slowly fall onto his chest.

“Can I kiss you now?” he said, whispering this time, like asking too loudly would scare me away.

I nodded, almost imperceptible, also pushing assurance of my consent at him in my Force signature, assurance that despite my rare desire to kiss someone, right now I wanted to. To kiss him.

He breathed out and closed the small distance between us, one hand reaching up to cradle my head, the other twining around my waist, pulling me to him. As with every other thing he did, he was gentle, every fiber of his being exuding a soft but vibrant joy.

I was first to pull away, suddenly so breathless the room had started to spin. Obi-Wan’s hands were light, barely touching.

“Are you okay?,” he whispered.

I swallowed, resting my forehead against his, “More than okay.”

My breath was ragged and I knew he could feel my fingers shaking. This was something I'd never experienced before. Wanting more. I’d never wanted more. Not ever.

Obi-Wan seemed to notice the fluttering of my pulse and visibly leaned back, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I paused my voice unsteady, “Obi-Wan, I’m sorry, I don’t think I want to-”

“Don’t apologize for anything,” he said, his voice firm, “there is nothing to apologize for. I will never expect anything from you.”

“But I-”

He softly placed a finger on my lips, “I think you and I have very similar approaches to uh- things like this.” He gestured between us before gripping my hands firmly, “I want you to know that.”

“Oh,” I whispered. I tuned in to his Force signature hoping I’d find a better explanation there.

His presence in the Force was warm, welcoming, but tainted with nervous anxiety. But the hint of fear wasn’t because he knew the Order would never allow affection like this. It wasn’t because he was truly nervous about kissing me. The feeling bleeding through the Force was something else entirely.

He was afraid that I wouldn’t be okay with just this. And nothing more. He was afraid that I would want more from him, that I wouldn’t be okay with just this.

“Oh,” I whispered again and I could tell he was letting me see a part of him no one ever saw. At my feeling of acceptance in the Force he pushed something more; another hesitation, a feeling that he wasn’t even sure what he wanted, that he had never had the opportunity to find out what he wanted.

“Oh,” I repeated for a third time, beginning to feel that I needed to respond to this soul-baring moment with something more than a single syllable.

—

“Just stay,” I thought as we climbed into bed, clad in our fancy silk pajamas, “stay right here and let me fall asleep next to you just once,” letting the thought bleed into the Force. Maybe the words were not there but the feeling was, the intense desire to be close to him. Just like this, wrapped in cozy blankets and content to be beside each other.

The look on his face changed and he relaxed, sinking back into the bed. He lifted his arm, reaching around me to pull me close. I sucked in a breath but did not resist, letting him gather me to his side, all but falling into his lap.

“Is this okay,” Obi-Wan said, freezing for a moment, his life Force fluttering with uncharacteristic uncertainty.

Now with my head nestled into the crook of his neck I had to pull away to look up at him, finding his eyes filled with emotion as he looked down at me. For a second I couldn’t breath, his eyes, the smile lines, the little strand of hair falling into his face at this exact moment- it was everything I saw every day but right now it was only for me to look at.

“Yes of course.”

—

Obi-Wan watched Cecil carefully, the slight rise and fall of their side, the way a lock of hair fluttered softly every time they breathed out. As he imagined was the case with most Jedi, they looked younger while asleep. His final thought before drifting into sleep was that he couldn’t wait to wake up next to them; it was something he knew he could get used to.

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Ch. 6 - Reassurances

Outside, rain came down in huge droplets. But the roar of Naboo’s sudden downpour was barely audible over the hundreds of voices conversing merrily, the din almost masking the music. In the midst of it all no one paid Obi-Wan and I any notice, the two of us holding the room under observation, watching for any potential harm to Senator Amidala.

Some time ago he had taken my hand in his own and to any onlooker we looked like any other couple present. All evening I’d been watching the other couples, mimicking their behavior, watching the way they mirrored their partners, the shorter ones beginning to lean their heads on the shoulders of the taller ones as the night wore on. I followed suit, leaning into Obi-Wan’s frame-

“Master Palmarin,” Commander Cody’s voice said suddenly, “can you weigh in on this?”

I jolted out of the memory and back into reality. The whole table was staring at me, the Jedi Council’s holographic images flickering faintly, the smirk on Anakin’s face poorly hidden. The war room lights of Obi-Wan’s Star Destroyer were suddenly too bright, their fluorescent humming loud in my ears.

“Sorry, what?”

“Commander Cody was just asking if you thought the warlords from the Naboo meeting could be pushed for more definite support?” Anakin interjected, “Unless you have something more important on your mind you’d care to share?”

I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him as I answered, very intently not looking at Obi-Wan either. He sat at the head of the table, carefully observing everything being said, his face stoic, voice always calm and steady. He gave no indication that he was distracted.

As for me, I couldn’t stop replaying every moment of Naboo in my head. It had been a week since we had left and we had barely spoken. The silence was loud, loud enough to gnaw anxiety into my heart. Loud enough to make my stomach twist in knots. Loud enough to let me hear the imaginary whisper that said he didn’t mean anything he’d said and that he regretted it at all.

I turned the thought over and over in my head. By the time the meeting concluded, I had convinced myself we had broken our friendship and that everything was over between us.

“Well,” Anakin said slamming his hands down on the table as soon as the holocomms shut off, “Snips and I have shit to do-”

“Language Anakin,” Obi-Wan warned.

“We’ve got shit to do Master” Ahsoka repeated, a wicked grin on her face as she stood with Anakin.

“You two are hopeless,” Obi-Wan said and crossed his arms. I laughed and he sent me a half-hearted glare that shot a jolt through me.

“But you love us, don’t ya?” Anakin said.

“Unfortunately yes,” Obi-Wan laughed, “Now scram, get off my ship.”

“Yes sir,” Anakin grinned, mock saluting his former Master.

“We’re scramming, Master,” Ahsoka giggled as she followed Anakin out.

I couldn’t help but smile after them, adoring the way the three acted like family. Even Cody had a smile on his face when he stood to leave. He only nodded in farewell, ever the perfect soldier returning to his post.

As soon as his footsteps faded Obi-Wan’s fingers flicked over the controls before him, closing the bridge’s doors and opening the blast shields. The swath of empty space stared back at me, stars twinkling, daring me to wish upon them.

“Cecil, you’re so anxious I can hear your heart beating across the room,” Obi-Wan said, nearing me.

I still didn’t look at him, the thoughts I’d been chasing all week roaring in my head. He leaned against the table, very close but not touching.

“I- I’m just thinking.”

“About…?” he prompted and I could feel his Force signature probing mine.

“We’ve barely talked all week. Do you regret something you told me on Naboo? Or the kiss? Or what the Council would say? Or-” I spluttered, all my questions rushing out before I could stop them.

“Oh darling,” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice soft. He leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead before squatting before me so his eyes were level with mine, “I should have just said it before. You shouldn’t have to guess.”

“Guess what?” I said, my voice shaky.

“That I love you. I always have. From the moment we met, even if I wasn’t aware of it, you were always tangled in my soul.”

I sighed in relief, a sound that came out as a sob, “Me too. I mean- I thought it was just me-”

“Certainly not,” Obi-Wan said as his hand came up to wipe the tears that were trying to form.

“I always have. And I didn’t know it. Even with our Force bond-” I said, my voice still wavering.

Obi-Wan laughed, and drew away to stand where he could hold my hands in his, “You know - maybe you don’t know - but our Force bond, our dyad, it’s stronger than mine with Anakin. Stronger than the one with my own Padawan.”

“Oh,” I laughed, suddenly very self conscious.

“So don’t doubt for a minute that I love you Cecil Palmarin,” he whispered as he pulled me from my seat.

“I won’t. Only if you don’t doubt me either,” I said, my lips smiling into his.

“Wouldn’t think of it darling,” he breathed as he captured my mouth with his.

I leaned into the kiss, my hands finding their way into his hair. His fingers ghosted along my torso before drawing me closer, pulling me against him. He broke away first, but only so he could kiss down my jaw, his lips straying to my neck, the sensation sending involuntary shivers through me. Abruptly his nose poked my face and I giggled. Once I started I couldn’t stop and my laughter echoed through the room.

Obi-Wan kept a hand cradling my face as he pulled away, his smile-lines crinkling in the way I loved so dearly.

“Are you really that ticklish?” he asked, his Force signature warm.

“No,” I beamed, “I just can’t believe I’m kissing you in the War Room of your Star Destroyer.”

Obi-Wan chuckled and leaned in so our lips were nearly touching “Well it is my Star Destroyer.”

I laughed too, “If you say so, General Kenobi.”

He rolled his eyes, “I do indeed say so, General Palmarin.”

“And what would people say if they were to check the security footage of your Star Destroyer? And see two of their Generals making out?” I asked, still so close to him that I’d barely have to move to touch my lips to his.

He grinned, “I’m sure they’d just be mad that Anakin was right.”

I pulled away from him in surprise and tried to keep the annoyance out of my tone, “Oh really?��

“Don’t worry. He only berates me about you in private. Not even in front of Ahsoka.”

“And how long has he ‘been berating you about me?’” I quoted back.

He blushed and he averted his eyes, “Since the moment he met you.”

It was my turn to blush. “That long?”

“Well sort of. He did ask if the two of us were something more as a kid. But then he didn’t bring it up again until- until much later.

“And by much later you mean…?”

Obi-Wan cringed and took a small step away from me, a flash of something that must have been guilt passing through the Force.

“Remember when I had to fake my death-”

I felt a surge of annoyance, “How could I forget?”

“After that, after it was all over-”

“Don’t think I ever really forgave you for that-” I said, poking his chest.

“Yeah well, that’s what I mean. After that, Anakin was livid. And not just because he’s Anakin. Because he saw what it did to you.”

Obi-Wan had paused and seemed to lose himself in a memory, “And then last year, when we almost lost you to Ventress- he saw what that did to me.”

“And then he wouldn’t let it go,” I said matter-a-factly.

“So much so that he tried to stop us from pretending to be a couple for the Naboo mission because he was afraid that it would become obvious to everyone else too,” Obi-Wan chuckled.

I shook my head and smiled before I pulled him back toward me, “That really doesn’t add up-”

“Well, it’s what he thinks.”

“Let him, or anyone, think whatever they want,” I whispered before kissing him again.

If I could have stayed in that moment forever, I would have. But eventually he pecked the corner of my mouth and pulled away.

“I could kiss you all day, but I fear we have duties to attend to,” he said.

I closed the distance between us once more, kissing him a moment longer, melting into him.

“I fear the same,” I whispered when I pulled away.

“Most importantly, deleting the security footage,” Obi-Wan said, his voice tinged with regret.

I smoothed his hair from his face, arranging it so it wouldn’t look like he’d been making out with someone, “unfortunately, you're right.”

“And you know that what we talked about at that meeting means I won’t see you for ages,” Obi-Wan said, but made no move to retract himself from my embrace.

“It’s probably for the best,” I whispered and averted my eyes.

Obi-Wan seemed to mull it over as he searched my face. It would be good for us to be away from each other after all that had transpired. We couldn’t let our focus be compromised by each other any more than it already was. And we certainly couldn't allow rumors about two Jedi Masters falling in love.

---------------------------------------

Ch. 7 - Pep-Talks

It was months after our kiss in the War-Room and every time I could find an excuse to visit The Negotiator and its General I gladly repeated the practice. Frankly, I’d only visited twice because I had my own fleet to run, but it kept me on my toes, just knowing that Obi-Wan would be there if I went to visit. It was never more than stolen kisses and whispered adorations but I found I didn’t want more. Not now, maybe not ever.

“Do you remember when they first told you that you’d be a general in this war?” Obi-Wan asked.

I was curled up in his lap where we sat on the floor with our backs to the bridge and looking out into the vastness of space.

“I do. Vividly. It was right here in this room,” I said, not wanting to recall the memory.

“I only ask because I want you to know that what you felt then, for once in your life you were wrong. You are a wonderful General.”

I craned my head to look up at him, “And you know that I would have refused to do it if it hadn’t been for you.”

He glanced down at me, “What do you mean?”

“You gave me this whole pep-talk. About how I was one of the most accomplished Jedi of the age and if anyone was prepared to lead an army, it was me.”

“And it was true. Still is,” he smiled.

“And you gave me this hug,” I started, “it made me feel like it would all be okay.”

“Because it was going to be,” Obi-Wan sighed, placing a kiss on my head.

“And,” I paused, not sure how to get the words out but knowing I was ready to say them, “that’s when I knew I loved you.”

I paused because Obi-Wan had pulled away so he could see me, hands still grasping mine but now sitting cross legged.

“But especially in this war,” I continued, feeling cruel that I’d make this confession of love but litter it with my war philosophy, “it would have been excusable for us to fall in love. The whole world has gone to shit and even if we win, it would never have been the same. Too much has changed. The Jedi order will be reorganized. I just wish we’d known it then.”

Obi-Wan looked like he didn’t know what to say, “How are you so sure?”

“I can feel it,” I said, surprised, “Can you not?”

Obi-Wan frowned and I continued, “Something has shifted. Too much is different now, even the Force feels different. Maybe it’s just that the Dark side has gained too much power, but we can never go back to those ancient traditions if we hope to retain anything of the Jedi.

Obi-Wan drew back further, staring intently, “Those are dangerous words Cecil Palmarin.”

I rolled my eyes, “I know. That’s why I haven’t said them out loud before. But whatever happens, it won’t be the same.”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond but I could tell he was weighing my words, his Force presence full of conflict and apprehension.

“But we don’t have to worry about that yet,” I said, reaching up to soothe his hair away from his face; in the last couple months it had started to get long again.

“What worries me Cecil, is that you are always right,” Obi-Wan mused.

“No I’m not-”

“About the things that matter, you tend to be. You have excellent intuition. And I just don’t know if I’m ready to confront that reality.”

“You can’t live in the confines of the Jedi Order’s reality forever.”

“Couldn’t I? That is the call of the Jedi, is it not?”

“Not anymore,” I whispered.

“But-”

“And you know far better than I, Obi-Wan, it’s not about the Jedi. It’s about the Force. You could live without the Jedi. But not the Force. That’s the life we will always be tied to.”

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan said, his eyes focusing on something far away. I could feel him contemplating again, mind working over what I said. A pang of anxiety hit me in knowing how much value he placed in my opinion - and that with this knowledge I would so willingly shatter the little shard of hope that was left for returning to the time before.

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Part 2 (Chapters 8-13)

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