Title: Island Girl
Author: Julia
Archive: GG, please
Rating: PG (warnings for other smutty chapters will be on those parts)
Disclaimer: I have never been, nor am now, George Lucas. I just like to borrow Obi-Wan.

It's one of those 'perfect' days -- the sun is shining, a slight breeze is blowing off the ocean, the sky is a crystal blue and you feel as though you might possibly be able to see into forever.

Too beautiful to be cooped up in your make-shift home.

Mid-morning finds you riding on the beach, laughing as your mare snorts and prances from the waves caressing her legs as she canters along. She's your favorite of the horses you found and gentled. A deep chestnut, almost a blood-bay, she has the classic black legs, mane and tail. She's spirited, and often makes you prove your right to ride her with her antics, but she's got a lovely temperament.

If not for that herd of horses you found you might have gone absolutely insane from loneliness.

Marooned by a crash on this world, you've never seen another living human being -- or any truly sentient being -- since your ship ditched into the ocean. The horses are intelligent, but not overly so. They can't speak to you with words, though they do listen to you and seem to enjoy your singing to them.

They're your solitary companions on this world.

The first year, at least you think it's been a year going off the ships' chrono you managed to salvage, you explored the land. Tried to find other beings.

On a whim you named the world after the most beautiful garden. It's been your home the past three years. A gorgeous, idyllic paradise.

It's still a lonely place at times.

The mare bucks, bringing your straying attention back to her, and you laugh. "Feeling fiesty today, huh?" Digging your hands into her mane, you tighten your legs and urge her into a gallop.

You fly, you and the mare. The wind stings against your face, stealing your breath and you lean closer to the mare's neck, reveling in the feel of her muscles moving smoothly as you race across the wet sand. These are your happiest moments, when you feel almost one with the horse.

Gradually she slows, dropping into a canter, then a trot, her breathing a loud whuffling. You laugh and pat her neck, loving the way it arches proudly. Scratching between her ears, you slow her to a walk and sit back.

Last night you saw something bright in the sky. It's probably just another pirate raid in space, like the one that relegated you to this world.

Damn pirates. You had never minded their interference until they shot you down.

Too bad there hadn't been a Republic Cruiser around to defend you at that point. You would've welcomed the help.

Tying back your waist-long hair with a strip of cloth, you let the mare go where she wants. Her ears prick, curving and almost touching at the tips. "Do you hear something, Lady?" You've never seen any predatory animals, but that doesn't mean there aren't any. After all, you're on the world as a result of an accident. The horses probably are too. Logic dictates it could happen to a predatory creature also.

The mare seems curious, not afraid, so you let her pick her way across a stretch of rocks. Her instincts are a lot more developed than yours, and you trust her to alert you to danger.

She snorts and stops, pawing at the sand.

Squinting your eyes, you blink. No. It couldn't be, not after all this time... "Easy, Lady." You stroke the mare's neck and she settles, stretching her neck out to whuffle curiously at the form laying in the sand several feet from you.

You bite your lip. Hard to say what kind of being, though it appears humanoid. Probably dead. You've seen several others, though they were more obviously deceased. This one doesn't appear to be...chewed on, or worse yet, decomposed.

Still, it makes you cautious. The images of the previous discoveries are fresh in your mind. After all, you were a diplomatic courier and Aide -- someone who carried messages for the Ambassador -- not a forensic pathologist. Dead bodies, in any condition, make you a little squeamish.

Slipping off the mare, you touch her shoulder. "Hold." She swings her head towards you and snuffles your hair, but doesn't move. One thing you were good at back home, that was training animals. It was family tradition that pushed you into diplomatic service.

Wishing you had a weapon of some sort, even a sharpened piece of wood, you cautiously move towards the sprawled figure. It's impossible to tell if the body is even human covered as it is in a dark brown cloak.

As you near you see one hand, curled into the sand, twitch. It's a human hand you note in relief. Staying out of reach, you circle the person and kneel down to try and see a face. Half-covered by the cloak, you can just make out the curve of a face and a long braid of hair.

That sparks something in your memory and suddenly you're no longer nervous as you realize just what your unexpected visitor is.

You stand and walk over, but are careful not to touch the form. One has to deal delicately with suddenly waking certain beings. "Padawan," you say softly. "Can you hear me?"

A groan is your only answer, as he -- that was definitely a male's voice and the hand is too strong-looking to be a woman's -- shifts his legs.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Jedi." You know he's not a Knight. Not with that padawan braid. Briefly you scan the beach up and down, wondering where his master might be. After all, you had close ties to the Jedi Training Temple on Alderaan. You know where there's a padawan, there's a master.

You nearly jump out of your skin as a hand suddenly wraps weakly around your ankle. It felt almost electric, that connection. Looking down you see his eyes have opened and he's looking at you with a confused and rather unfocused gaze.

Without thinking you reach out touch the hand, smiling reassuringly. "It's all right. Your ship must have crashed, but you're safe."

His lips are cracked slightly, probably from exposure to the salt water and the dry sand. You sense he's thirsty. "I don't have water with me, but if you can stand I can get you back to my hut. I found a spring..." He blinks and moves his mouth, but only croaking noises come out. Definitely thirsty.

There's no question of whether to help him or not. You'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee as leave him there to die. Looking at the mare, you whistle and hold out a hand.

With a whicker, she trots over and stops, nuzzling your hand. "Good girl," You praise. "Hold." You've never had the occasion to ride double, and hope she doesn't skitz out on you.

The padawan isn't looking any more alert. He's still got that glazed look on his face. Well, you're not the strongest person, but you are determined. "Come on, padawan, let's get you out of the sun." You kneel next to him, grab his shoulders and attempt to pull him up into a sitting position. Fortunately, he's not totally out of it, and moves his arms to brace his weight as you lift him slowly up.

Once he's sitting up, you look him over quickly, searching for any obvious wounds. Force be praised there are none and that makes you smile at him again. "I think you're just dehydrated. Easily fixed." Slinging his arm over your shoulders, you set your legs and look at him. "Let's try to stand, shall we? One, two, three..."

You grunt as he leans heavily on you, but you've been on your own three years now, moving heavy objects and working with strong horses. Taking a wider stance, you grab his hand, slip an arm around his waist and pray he doesn't lose consciousness.

He's seen the horse now, and you know he understands your intention. "Steady, Lady," you murmur to the mare. Her ears flicker as her eyes roll to the side, but she doesn't move. Her trust in you is absolute, thank the Maker.

You and the padawan stagger closer, until you're right in front of the mare's body. "Take hold of her mane and try to pull yourself up," you tell him. "I'll give you a boost." As he leans against the mare, you bend down to take hold of his booted calf, bending it. "One, two, three.. OOOF!" He's heavier than he looks! Halfway up, he holds, but then slowly begins slipping back down. "Oh no!" You automatically reach up and push, not even thinking it's his butt you're pushing against until later.

It works and he's on the mare, leaning forward on her neck. She's standing steady, but you can tell she's a bit nervous. "Easy, Lady," you croon and stroke her forehead, scratching behind her ear.

He's watching you, face pale. "Can you stay balanced on her?" He nods and you smile as he takes a double-handfull of the black mane. "Just be careful not to kick her or squeeze with your legs," you admonish. A ghost of a smile curves his split lips and you shrug. "She's got sensitive flanks." His legs hang loosely, not swinging, but not clenched either.

"C'mon, Lady." You walk in front of the horse, clucking for her to follow. Hesitantly, as if unsure of the weight on her back when she can see you, she follows. You're grateful you rode her today and not one of the more skittish stallions. They would never tolerate this.

It's late afternoon before you reach the tree your hut is built into. The temperature is cooler in the shade of the trees and you lead the mare almost to the door. "Whoa."

The padawan's eyes open blearily as the mare stops and you walk over to stand next to him. Reaching up to take his arm, you say, "Try and slide slowly off her..." It's all you manage to get out before he all but falls off the mare, landing half on you, half on the ground. She sidles to the side and snorts at the two humans who are lying in a heap.

"Ow..ow..," you mutter, rubbing the back of your head. The ground is harder than it looks and you ended up on the bottom. The heavy weight laying half on you shifts slightly and you forget your own discomfort, scrambling to kneel next to the sprawled form of the Jedi. His cloak is mostly off, so you pull it off his arms and wad it up, slipping it under his head. "Stay put and I'll get some water."

The mare follows you, thirsty herself, no doubt. You hug her, giving her a quick once-over, then turn her into the make-shift paddock you made. Trotting to your hut, you find the bowl made from the husk of a local fruit and scoop water into it. Carrying it outside carefully, you kneel next to the Jedi and set it down.

His eyes open slightly as he hears you and you scoot behind, levering his shoulders and upper body up. "Let's get you against a tree," You suggest, hoping you can actually pull him over there. He helps, pushing with his legs and you finally get him leaning against one of the huge trees, his cloak behind his back to cushion.

"Here." You lift the husk of water, not trusting it to his shaking hands that cover yours as you hold it steady. He slurps it, spills some of it down his chest, but manages to get most of it inside him. "Easy, padawan," you murmur. You don't want him to be sick from drinking too much too fast. "There's food and water here. You won't starve or die of thirst." Smiling, you push the hair back that has come loose of the braid. The padawan cut was always odd looking, but it suits this young Jedi.

He leans back, closing his eyes and is asleep before you can say another word. Well, you think to yourself with a grin, guess you don't look threatening after all. Taking the mostly empty water husk, you stand. Odds are he'll sleep for a bit and you have things to do if you're going to have a guest.

~<>~<>~

It's almost evening when the man's eyes open again. Bleary with sleep, they widen as he takes in his surroundings, then focus on you with an intensity that startles you.

"It's okay," you soothe. "Remember? Lady and I found you on the beach?" You look as non-threatening as possible, offering a wry smile. You hold out water, figuring he's probably thirsty again.

"Thank you." The voice is gruff, probably from the dehydration. His hands are steady as he takes the husk from you, eyes never leaving your face.

It's a little unnerving, having that intense scrutiny focused on you. You've forgotten what it's like in the three years you've been there. "I have some fruit too. You should probably eat, if you can." You hold out another fruit husk, this one filled with the red-orange fruit that grows all around. There are several types of fruit in the husk. He accepts the bowl with a slight smile, examining the fruits in it curiously.

"They taste like Jaurillian Birameads," you offer with a shrug. "If you know what those are..."

The slight smile again, this time for you. "I do." He bites into one, then has to eat it quickly as the juice dribbles down his hand and arm.

You chuckle. "They're actually a little too ripe, but the greener ones are on the other side of the cove."

"What's your name?" The green-blue eyes are on you again, trailing over your face and making you realize just how little skin the shirt and shorts you're wearing cover.

"Rowan Aristides." You're surprised to see a spark of recognition.

"As in the Aristides of Alderaan?" One eyebrow arches.

You sigh. Leave it to you to find someone whose heard of your family. "Yes," you murmur and shrug. Fat lot of good it did you to have an influential family. You decide to turn the tables. "And what's your name, padawan?" You enjoy the surprise you see glimmer in his eyes.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

It means nothing to you, and you shake your head.

"My master is Qui-Gon Jinn." He nods this time as your eyebrow raises in surprise. "You know the name."

"I met Master Jinn once." Chewing on your lip, you try to recall exactly when. "He came to Alderaan once when I was a child. Testing several of my cousins for midi-chlorian levels I think..."

You almost jump as a strong hand encircles your wrist and he leans forward. "Why weren't you tested?"

That intense gaze again. This time it makes you squirm slightly. "I was," you say defensively. It's water under a very old bridge. "My father gave his eldest child to the Temple, Jedi Kenobi. He refused to give me also." The pain of that still echoes in you. A dream you'd held, long denied. You look up and shrug. "I was fifth in a family of five. My mother said she couldn't bear the thought of losing another child."

He sits back, still holding on to your wrist. "You have training." Not a question. A statement.

You nod. "They thought I would be dangerous left completely untrained." A sigh. "Father allowed enough training so I wouldn't hurt myself or anyone else." A wry smile. Temper training you had called it. Meditation and endless drills on releasing emotions to the Force. You'd learned to shield your mind and to protect yourself from psychic attacks.

It had only left you wishing for more. You look up, surprised to see him frowning. "I'm sorry." Somehow you must have offended him.

"No..." He sighs, and releases your wrist. "I'm sorry. You could've been a very good Jedi."

A lump forms in your throat at that, and you surge to your feet. "Here's the fruit, I'll go see if I can find something else." You turn and leave before you can betray yourself with tears.

~<>~<>~

The moons are up, and you know where you're going. You enter the grove of trees and sit at the base of one, curling your knees up to your chest.

His words opened an old wound you'd thought long-healed.

At twenty you're far too old to be trained, long past the time any Jedi Master would've chosen you. It was torture in a way, living on Alderaan, seeing the Jedi at the Training Temple with their padawans... Knowing it was what you could never have.

Your parents never knew. Mother was fussy enough as it was, constantly worrying over minor bumps and bruises. She'd have a fit if she knew you were living on some world where there were no air filterers, no antibacterials in the water, eating fruit off a tree without even knowing exactly what it was...

Yeah, Mother was a tad on the obsessive side when it came to cleanliness. Surprising you came out of childhood with any skin left on your hands at all.

Laying your forehead on your knees you sigh. She probably thinks you're dead. Three years is a long time with no word. No doubt she curses the Force for taking her youngest now too....

Oh well. You probably would've ended up working for AgriCorps or the Healers anyways. And being one of the attachees to a Diplomat wasn't the worst thing in life, right?

You snort derisively and hurl one of the more ripe fruits at a tree trunk, watching it splatter with a wry smile. Why worry? You're stuck on this planet until you die probably. Unless someone decides to come looking for the Jedi. They obviously didn't look very hard for you.

Self-pity annoys the hell out of you, and you stand, disgusted at yourself. The beach is just to the right, and you head for it, waiting until your feet touch the sand before you break into a full run.

You run as if you could leave all your worries behind you; as if the very hounds of Sith were nipping at your heels. They are, in the form of memories, and the exertion of running is sometimes all that would exorcise them from your mind. So you run, feet pounding along the wet sand, lungs gulping in air, arms pumping, feeling again as though you're flying... Ignoring the hot tears that burn down your cheeks and evaporate.

Forgetting...just forgetting it all in the euphoria of movement.

Lungs eventually begin to burn, and muscles begin to protest. The will could go forever, never stopping, but the flesh needs to rest.

You pull up, gasping and bend over, hands on your knees, until you can move again. Walk it out. Keep the muscles from cramping. You let the cool water lap against your feet as you trace your path back up the beach.

It's a long trip. The demons chased you hard tonight.

You sense the movement before you see it, and stop, every nerve on-edge. Red eyes blink at you from the brush and you hear a snorting sound.

Great. The wild pigs. Well, they don't care much for water... You begin to back into the surf, shivering as the cool water hits your hot skin.

When you're up to your armpits you stop, and try to stand against the waves. No such luck, of course. A wave swamps over you, and you go with it, knowing it's useless to fight. Kicking free, you begin to swim parallel to shore. The pigs will leave you alone once you're out of their area.

Cold, tired and just plain soul-weary, you finally reach the place you started. The beach by the grove of fruit trees.

With a sigh, you sink into the still warm sand...and are asleep almost instantly.

~<>~<>~

The sun is warm on your back as you slowly wake. You feel gritty from sleeping in the sand all night, your hair a loose, salt-caked curtain around you. Normally, you wouldn't care.

"Do you make it a habit to sleep on the beach?"

Slamming up mental shields you haven't worried about in over three years, you want to just curl into the sand and wish him away -- cultured voice and all.

"Sometimes," you mutter into your arms. "Best way to get a tan."

A derisive snort is your only answer and you peek through your hair to see him shaking his head.

"You could use some sun." Sitting up, you push your heavy hair back and begin to brush the sand off your arms. "You're as pale as the underside of a Calamarian."

A smile quirks his mouth as he sits there looking cool and composed. Still fully dressed in tunics, leggings and boots. "I haven't had much time to laze around on the beach."

"You have nothing but time now," you point out acerbically. "Unless you managed to get a distress call off before you crashed?"

He nods. "Actually, I did."

"Of course." You sigh. "Jedi efficiency." Rolling your eyes, you stand. "There is nothing but time here, Jedi Kenobi." As you walk off, you wish it hadn't sounded quite so bitter.

To your annoyance, he follows. "I thought you were going to work on your tan," you grumble.

"I thought I could get a guided tour."

You stop and face him, warily. Was that actually humor? The blue-green eyes certainly seem to be sparkling with something like that.

O....kay... Forget the fact that your clothes are stiff from the saltwater, and your hair not faring much better. What the hell? The Diplomatic training drilled into you since childhood comes to the fore and you nod with unconscious grace. "Very well." A smile quirks your mouth as you turn. The full tour, huh?

Gonna be a long day.

~<>~<>~

"Careful." You stop and look back, checking to see if he's all right. "It'd be easier if you took those boots off, you know."

Stubborn, oh ghods he's got a stubborn set to his mouth and shoulders that says he'll do this even if it kills him.

It might.

One slip and it's a long, quick trip to the bottom. Force only knows insane boredom first prompted you to try it in the first place, but you've climbed the rock face so many times now, you know each hand and foothold like an old friend.

The sound of loose rocks falling, gravel sliding down to hit on the way down. Getting a good grip, you twist to look sideways and down as you feel breath on your heel. "If I fall, I'll take *you* out," you growl irritably. "Don't climb so close!"

Smirk of a cocky smile quirks his lips, but he holds and lets you get several feet above before following. You clench your eyes shut as you hear his boot slip...again...and hear his soft curse.

Stubborn man.

Has to do it his way.

Hope he knows how to levitate.

He's found a hold and you keep going, reaching the top and scrambling up out of the way, offering him a hand up.

To your surprise he's slightly out of breath. Whether from almost falling, or the exertion, you don't know, but he gratefully takes your assist and sits with a sigh.

"Next time I ask for a full tour, remind me to exclude the rock climbing," he mutters.

You settle next to him with a curious look. Jedi training has to keep him in top shape, so ...what's the problem? "Look." You touch his shoulder and point, not saying anything else.

The breath catches in his throat.

*This* is why you called it Eden. Alderaan, with it's gentle grass plains, and sloped vales, renown for its beauty, pales compared to this.

The roar is barely discernable from this distance. The roar of seven powerful rivers cascading down the curving sweep of a cliff that is larger than some of the largest Corellian ships you've seen in your lifetime. The water falls, hitting the mountainside, bouncing, refracting, catching the light in rainbow motes in the mist as it speeds towards the dark lake at the bottom.

Both of you are silent for a long stretch, just soaking up the beauty of the falls.

"Have you ever been over there?"

You nod. "Twice." Shaking your head, you add, "There's no easy way in or out. No passes. After I got caught in a rockslide the second time I decided I can see it just fine from here." You grin wryly, unconsciously rubbing the mostly-faded scar on your calf.

One of those eyebrows raises in silent comment and his gaze goes to your hand, rubbing your leg. "Master Yoda would say you're reckless."

"I call it living." You stand, and gesture towards the long plateau. "There's an easier way down over there. It takes longer, but there are no vertical rocks to climb."

He nods and stands, and you both pause to watch the sun hitting the majesty of the seven falls before beginning the long hike back to the hut.

~<>~<>~

"Hold your hand flat and just let them take it off your palm." You watch, mildly amused, as the Jedi eyes the horses clustered loosely around you warily. Holding out a root for one of the stallions you rub the horse's forehead as he nibbles it out of your hand, crunching on it contentedly.

"How did you gentle them?" He's made friends with Lady, and is combing his fingers through her forelock.

You shrug. "I just watched them for a while, got them used to me being around and then started going closer. It took a while, but they know having me around means food and pets. They know a sucker when they see one. Hey now!" You move aside as the stallion nips at one of the younger males that gets too close.

"You're like Qui-Gon," he sighs. "He's always bringing some creature back with us that needs nursing." He holds still as the mare snuffles his face and hair curiously, blinking as the long hairs on her chin tickle his nose. "You have an affinity for animals."

"Eh." You shrug and give the stallion one last pat. "Getting them used to me riding them was another story. This one," You tug gently on the stallion's long brown mane as he bumps you with his head. "Still fights me sometimes. His attention span is pretty short." You don't speak the thought, 'like all males of any species.'

"What is he doing?" Obi-Wan's eyes are closed, the mare's black mane in his face as she nibbles on his hair.

"SHE likes you." You laugh and push her away, then throw up your hands. "SHAH!" The herd scatters and bounds away, regrouping nearby to graze. "Come on, let's go check the tide pools."

"I suppose you have a pet fish?"

The drawling, dry tone annoys you for some reason. "If I get a fish, it's food." You look at him. "No one serves meals here, Jedi Kenobi. If I want to eat I have to catch or pick it myself."

"I didn't mean it as a slight." His brow furrows slightly as he glances at you.

You can almost hear the thought. *Prickly little thing, aren't you...* Well, tough. You've survived on your own three years, no thanks to anyone else. It's made you independent and you got used to the solitude. At least you think that's why you're annoyed. You're not sure. You should be grateful to have another human being to talk to, to do things with...

"I'm sorry," you sigh. "I just..." You shrug and keep walking, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"You thought you'd live here alone the rest of your life."

The words stop you in your tracks and you swing around to face him. He looks at you calmly, understanding warming his eyes. You're not ready to open up to him -- or anyone else. Three years of being alone, having only your thoughts, hearing only your voice....

Turning away, you mutter, "The beach is this way."

~<>~<>~

You pick at the fish half-heartedly, pushing it around on the flat piece of bark that is your plate. Tiring of looking at it, you set it aside, staring into the flames of the fire.

He's eating like a starved person. You can't resist a jibe. "Don't they feed you at the Temple?"

Glancing up, a wry smile curves his mouth as he pulls the fish bones out of the meat. "I was on Noranca for the past month on a solo mission."

The planet sounds vaguely familiar. You finally remember it as a swampy place with very few solid land masses. "I take it you had field rations?"

"Food cubes." He makes a face, and gives the fish a fond look. "Jedi shouldn't be so obsessed with food they dream of it."

That makes you chuckle. "Here." You hand over your almost untouched fish. "No sense wasting it." He rips into the fish with gusto, reminding you of your teenage male cousins when they went through growth spurts.

"I'm fully grown."

You look up at the dry humor in his tone. There's a glint in his eyes that you chose to ignore. For now. "You eavesdrop, Jedi Kenobi. That's not polite."

"You broadcast, Lady Aristides." He licks his fingers like a satisfied cat, setting the bones of the fish aside. "It's impossible not to overhear your thoughts."

True. You forget to shield these days. Being alone for three years has made you lazy about some things. With a sigh, you belated bring up your mental shields. Giving a "so there" look, you gaze into the fire again, ignoring the wave of amusement you sense coming off him.

"Tell me, what have you done these three years?" Obi-Wan looks around, noting the paddock, the hut, the various things you've done to bring a mode of civilization to your life. "Besides all of this. How have you kept from going insane?"

"Why would I?" Now you look at him, shaking your head. "I've never minded solitude, Jedi Kenobi. As the youngest of five children, there was very little that was truly mine alone. Being alone here, having this entire world to myself..."

"You never got lonely?"

With a shrug you look away. "At times." It's a reluctant admission. Something about him just makes you want to push him away. As if he's invading your personal space -- though he's at least four feet away. "I'm used to it."

"Will you be able to go back?"

You meet his gaze in surprise. "Go back where?"

He frowns slightly, and leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs. "My Master will find me... and you." His voice gentles. "You'll be able to go home."

Home.

Home?

You scowl, on your feet before you realize you've stood. "THIS is my home, Jedi Kenobi. When Master Jinn comes for you, I shall be happy for you, but don't make the mistake of thinking I'm in need of rescue." You're blazingly mad, and not sure why. "I don't need rescuing and I don't need a Knight riding into my life to 'save' me, thank you!" Pivoting on your heel, you march off.

Missing the stunned expression on the young man's face.

~<>~<>~

You wake to the sound of ocean birds crying to one another and the sound of surf.

Another night on the beach.

This is becoming a habit.

At least he's not around this morning to pester you. That's a relief. You roll over and throw your arms out, eyes closed, just reveling in the warmth of the sun and the soft sand beneath you.

It's cooler this morning, a breeze blowing in and chilling your skin. You open your eyes and sit up.

Storm blowing in. It's what keeps the place green and tropical, but this one promises to be a little more than the usual shower.

Standing, you tromp up the beach into the forest until you reach the freshwater stream. There's a deep pool there and you rinse the sand and salt off your skin, scrubbing your hair with the sap from a root you found. Your clothes get a good beating, cleaning them as best you can before laying them out on a rock to dry. You sit on another rock, drying off in the still warm sun, finger-combing your hair.

"There you..." His eyes go round before he whirls, putting his back to you as you scramble back into the water with a splash. "Uh...sorry. I didn't realize you'd be...um..." He gestures.

You peek out from the stream, only your head showing above water. You know darn well Jedi are casual about nudity and their own bodies. Part and parcel of growing up in the crèche and seeing everything before they're even ten.

Apparently it's a little different with outsiders. "Did you need something?"

"You ran off last night then didn't come back." He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. "I just wanted to make sure you're all right."

You burble a laugh, unable to help it as what he says strikes you as funny. He shoots a glance over his shoulder, eyes an indeterminate shade of grey, a put-out expression on his face. "I've been taking care of myself for three years!" You shake your head. Could he really be that conceited? You don't stop to think you might be overreacting. "Just because you're here I'm supposed to fall all to pieces and be helpless? What makes you think I can't make it on my own?"

"Nothing." That cultured voice is cool now, and from the stiffening of his shoulders it's a good guess your reply annoyed him.

"And you think *I'm* the touchy one..." you mutter, unable to resist a barb of your own.

If anything, his shoulders stiffen more. "Excuse me for interrupting you. It won't happen again." Voice coldly polite.

Wow. You watch him stalk off, blinking slightly. That didn't go well at all. Shrugging it off, you return to the rock, intending to return to your thoughts.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the Jedi though. You've been pretty touchy about his presence. On-edge. It wasn't his fault he ended up washed up on the beach, but you've done little to make him feel welcome since then.

If anything, you've avoided him as much as possible. Made him feel like an outsider. He's used to a Temple full of Jedi and Padawans. Odds are he's feeling isolated, especially after spending the time on his solo mission.

Your conscience is going full-bore, and approaching the "mother" phase of your self-flagellation. If you don't do something soon, you're going to get a full-blown lecture on how you were raised better than this.

With a heavy sigh, you stand and pull your clothing on. You've been a royal idiot. Time to make some amends...if you still can.

~<>~<>~

The clearing is empty when you arrive, everything exactly where you usually leave it, fire neatly covered. The horse's water is full, a basket of fruit sits by a tree.

No trace of the padawan.

With a grimace, you kick at the sand. This is all your fault. You were stubborn and inflexible and now he's gone.

He gave you what he thought you most wanted -- solitude.

Got what you wanted.

Happy?

The loneliness is back, triple what it usually is, and you scowl at the darkening sky as though it caused this problem.

"Damn." Right now you could really use some of those Jedi abilities your oldest brother has. It would be handy to know what direction the Jedi set out. You sigh and drop your shields, closing your eyes to concentrate on anything out of the ordinary since you truly don't know exactly what to sense for.

Something bright as a beacon is to the south. You're guessing it's the padawan.

It doesn't take long to find Lady and set out at a ground-eating canter.

After all, how far could one person get in a short time?

~<>~<>~

Two hours later you realize just *how* wrong you were about Jedi abilities.

He got a LONG ways out.

Almost half a days journey by foot for a normal person.

You sit and watch as he goes through a flowing, complicated kata, totally unaware of -- or unwilling to recognize -- your presence. His shirt is off, and his skin glistens in the waning sunlight. You note he has more of a tan than when he first arrived.

It definitely suits him.

Shaking your head, checking your shielding, you slide off the mare and walk forward slowly to sit and watch.

He's definitely caught up in it, gone with the moment, lost in the movement and communion of the force.

He's beautiful. There's no other way to even come close to describing the human being before you moving through intricate moves as if gliding on air. Muscles slide in a hypnotic dance, his braid whirls as he turns, slashing both hands down. Perfect balance, strength and agility in one neat, not to mention gorgeous, package.

It leaves your mouth a bit dry, your heart rate a tad accelerated. Get a grip! You shake your head, firming up those mental shield as he turns his back to you, giving you a wonderful view of his tight butt and the strong vee of his back.

Digging your toes in the sand, you try to concentrate on appreciating the skill instead of the person.

It's all but impossible to separate.

His movements slow and you realize he must be finishing the kata. Getting a chokehold on your hormones and thoughts, you fix an expression on your face you can only call "diplomatic". It was the one the Ambassador always used in public. Polite. Calm. Serene.

It almost all flies out of your head as he turns and spots you sitting there. For a moment you just stare. The sun catches his hair bringing the copper-blonde highlights to life, and painting his eyes a turquoise you've only ever seen on Alderaan.

It's a good thing all Jedi aren't this attractive. They'd never be able to go under cover and not be noticed.

One of those eyebrows arch as you continue to stare and you flush, looking down and digging a handful of sand. "I...uh...sorry if I interrupted." You feel sooooo foolish. Bracing for an acerbic reply, you wait. It would certainly serve you right if he dished it right back at you.

"You didn't."

The mild tone of voice makes you look up in surprise. Though not smiling, he's looking at you calmly as though waiting to see what you'll do next.

Can't blame him. You have proven rather...unpredictable.

"Uh..." Tossing the handful of sand down, you rise to your feet. "I just wanted to warn you about the storm coming in." You shrug, darting a glance at him. Oh...real good! Warn a Jedi, who can sense weather changes, about a storm coming in. REAL smart!

"Ah." Slight amusement as he looks towards the ocean and the darkening sky. "Thank you."

"And..." Toeing a pattern in the sand, you sigh. "To apologize for being such a snot. I..I guess I'm not used to being around people...but that's really no excuse to be short with you." Letting go of your stubborn pride, you look up. "I'm sorry."

There is a very short instant that you feel totally vulnerable -- aware that he can make you look like the biggest idiot.

He smiles and it almost lights up the very air particles surrounding him it's so intense. "I understand." Bending, he picks up his tunics and pulls them on, leaving them unfastened in the front. "You're used to a lot of space and I've been tromping in on it."

"No..."

He stops at your quiet admission and waits for you to continue.

"Y...you were right about loneliness. It's ...it's just hard to...um...to..." You shrug and turn, walking over to the mare to lean your face into her neck. She wuffs at you, gently lipping your hair. "They're all I had for three years. It's hard to open up to another sentient being again after spending so much time alone."

You look up and see him watching you, all his attention on what you're saying. That focus all on you again. "Anyways," you laugh, trying to cover up your embarrassment. "I'm just a looney hermit."

"No, you're not."

How did he get so close without you hearing him? Eyes wide, you look up, startled.

Slowly, as if reaching out to a wild animal, he reaches forward to graze a finger along your cheek. "Not looney, and not a hermit." A twinkle lights his eyes as a grin quirks his mouth. "Unless you want to be, but you'll need to work on the wild, matted hair and bad teeth thing..."

Tension broken, you laugh and reach up to take his hand, squeezing it gratefully. It's the closest contact you've hand with another human since the day you found him on the beach and you find yourself reluctant to let it go. "I'll pass."

Looking into his eyes, those ever-changing eyes that speak so much of how he feels, you nervously look away. Ghods...they're a deep moss green a person could get lost in! "Um...are you gonna get back however you managed to get out this far?"

Amusement shines in his eyes and smile. "Are you offering me a ride?"

Ride. With him. Just the thought sends all coherant thought momentarily from your mind. "Ride?" Thought kicks in again and you blink. "Oh...oh! Um...sure!" Trying to hide the red shade your face has become, you turn towards the mare and grab her mane. Before you can even think about jumping up, warm hands wrap around your ankle and calf as Obi-Wan boosts you up. "Thanks." Not meeting his eyes, you hold out a hand. "You coming with?"

"Love to." Something in the tone, combined with that silky voice and accent, makes your heart pound faster.

He settles behind you, arms wrapping loosely around your waist as he scoots closer. His body is all but wrapped around you now, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him; smell the slight tang of sweat on his skin.

"I remember."

"Huh?" You come out of your dazed sensory state feeling as though someone drugged you.

"Don't kick and don't squeeze too hard." His breath fans against your hair and shoulder. "Good rules any time I think."

Unable to think of anything to say, you nod and nudge the mare forward.

~<>~<>~

The storm arrived before you made it back, and now all three of you are soaked and wind-chilled. As you ride into the clearing Obi-Wan slides down and runs forward to open the paddock gate. You slide off and quickly check the mare over to make sure she's all right, before letting her dart into the enclosure.

He closes the gate just as a flash of lightening lights the area up. The low growl of thunder isn't far behind, and you realize the storm is almost right on top of you.

"C'mon!" The wind has picked up, making it hard to be heard and you gesture for him to follow.

Bypassing the hut, you trot quickly for the cave -- your secondary home. Usually it's too dark and big for you to want to go there, but in storms it's the best place to be.

"Will the horses be all right?"

You nod, hoping they will be. "There are hills on the other side of the paddock they can get out of the wind and rain."

Another jagged flash of lightening splits the sky and you see the cave right ahead of you.

Once inside, you turn and look out at the storm.

The trees are whipping around wildly, loose fronds flying through the air like weird birds. The rain starts to sheet down. Turning you see Obi-Wan has knelt down and is checking out the cave.

"It's not very deep, and ends just past that rock." You point. "But I have wood and supplies in here for emergencies." Walking past him, you kneel and dig out the fire pit a bit more before beginning to stack kindling in it.

Obi-Wan silently offers a starter from his belt and before long you have a warm fire. It adds a note of cheer to the otherwise dark environment.

Wringing your hair out, you nod toward a corner. "There's fruit and probably some dried and salted fish over there." You have to smile at his grimace. "Better than food cubes, right?"

He rolls his eyes upward, shaking his head. "Nothing here even comes close to the pit Naranca was." Grabbing the bowl, he offers it to you.

Both of you eat in silence, listening to the wind and thunder. Storms make you a little nervous, but you feel safe in the cave. "I just wish I could bring the horses in here too," you sigh.

He's silent, head cocked to one side slightly as if listening to something. His eyes are unfocused for a moment then he smiles reassuringly at you. "They're fine. Not enjoying the noise or wind, but otherwise all huddled together in horsy companionship."

You grin, shaking your head. "That's handy. Don't feel like getting up? Just send your thoughts out to do the dirty deed." You sigh, old regrets gnawing at you again.

"You could do it too." His gaze is steady as you look up.

"Me?" You shake your head. "I'm too old, Obi-Wan. I know that much."

"Nonsense." Shaking his head, he scoots closer until your knees are almost touching as you face one another. "You were taught the basics. This isn't that far off."

He's too close again. Too intimate in the close confines of the cave. You squirm and wriggle back a little. "I can't." Looking away from the earnest appeal in those eyes. He's so open, so quick to offer help.

Sighing, he purses his lips and looks at you. "Why are you so negative about this? You *are* gifted."

It rankles you, and you scowl, happy to have something to concentrate on besides how his wet clothes cling to his body. That body you can still vaguely feel pressing against you from the afternoon's ride. Your back is still hypersensitive. Feeling his breath stir your hair every time he'd spoken. His arms clenching around your waist when the mare had changed gaits suddenly.

You'd like to think the prickles on your skin are only from being cold and not from his proximity.

His energy and warmth that you can feel, regardless that you're sitting across a fire from him.

How the firelight plays softly on his skin, making it golden. How the light catches his eyes, swirling the colors together into a smoky depth that draws you in.

Crossing your arms defensively in front of you, you look out at the storm, presenting a stubborn, set expression to his question.

"You don't like to talk about the possibility of going home. You don't want to discuss any ability you have in the Force." His accent is more pronounced, something you noticed happens when he's annoyed.

You bite your lip, steadily ignoring his gaze on you.

"Fine." With a sigh, Obi-Wan sits back, shaking his head. "I don't know why you resist change so strongly. It is inevitable."

"Next subject," You growl.

"At least with the storm blowing you can't run away."

That catches your attention and your head snaps around to pin him with a glare. "I do not run."

Cocky, quirk of a smile, as if saying, 'here, fishy, fishy...' "You do so. Every time. Literally."

A flush heats your face in the face of this undeniable statement. "So stop cornering me and I won't have to." You glare. "Only cads press for answers, you know."

"Ah..." Obi-Wan crosses his arms and settles back against a rock. "Is that so?" Cocky smile firmly in place.

Damn. You move before you even think it out, kicking your heel out to connect solidly with his shin.

"Ow!" He gives you a shocked look.

You smirk at the yelp. "Padawhiney..."

Uh oh, you realize you just went too far. Before you can scramble to your feet, he's on you, pinning your shoulders against the cave wall, knees on either side of your body as he looms over you. "You," he intones, "have been asking for this almost since I got here."

You didn't have older brothers for nothing. Sliding down before his grip can tighten you jab two fingers into his side, just under his ribcage and bring your knees up -- not hard enough to hurt, but in definite warning.

As expected he jumps from the fingers and hops upwards as your knees make contact with sensitive parts best protected from blows.

On his feet now, he frowns thunderously. Obi-Wan jabs a finger towards you as you scramble to your feet, "You don't play fair."

Shrug one shoulder and give a pert smile. "No one said *I* had to, Jedi." You know damn well he could overpower you, outmaneuver you in no time.

He's been trained since he could walk to be a protector. A gentleman. You're playing on that shamelessly...and loving every second of it.

Batting your eyelashes, you sit again.

Obi-Wan fists his hands and you can tell...he'd love to get his hands on you and make you pay for the taunting. He definitely has a temper. Seems he's also used to being irresistible. He doesn't like the fact that you haven't fallen in with the game.

Tough. You don't like to lose and rules don't exist on your island.

Except the ones you make up.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming visibly. Shaking his head, he kneels and watches you with a considering gaze. "All of this from me trying to explain to you about the Force." With a sigh, Obi-Wan sits back and closes his eyes.

Your mouth falls open as you stare. Where does he come off trying to make you feel guilty? You leap to your feet. "Just...stuff it, Obi-Wan Kenobi." His eyes pop open in surprise, but now you're ticked. "I didn't ask for you to crash here. I didn't ask for help. I did NOT ask for YOU, so....get over it!"

Beyond reasoning, you whirl and march out of the cave, oblivious to the storm. You're soaked in seconds, shivering from the wind, and wince as lightning blasts the night apart for a moment.

No going back. You made a stand, and stubborn woman that you are...you'll see it through.

Marching towards the horse paddock, you ignore the mud squishing through your toes. Conceited, cocky, smug bastard! Why did he have to show up and ruin your life?

Hot tears mix with the rain on your face as you reach the paddock fence. The storm is absolutely howling now, almost knocking you into the fence. You lean against it and feel sorry for yourself, giving in to the misery that follows your anger.

Damn!

Life was so simple. Before. Before he arrived.

Now it's all mixed up in your head and you honestly have no idea what to do now that you've marched yourself out into the night.

You're an independent person. You lived for three years on your own. You don't need anyone else.

Need is entirely different from want.

Cursing to yourself in Huttese, which was always your favorite language to be mad in, so full of inventive curses and phrasing, you bash your fist into the fence. It hurts, but you do it again. "DAMNIT!"

"Don't."

You look up through water-clogged eyelashes at him. Grateful for the rain that hides your tears, but knowing your misery is leaking through your shields. "Don't be so damn nice to me!"

A long-suffering, patient look. "Would you please go back inside the cave?"

"NO!" You stomp your foot like a petulant three year-old. Control is swiftly fleeing. You're losing it. Tired, you don't want to be reasonable. You don't want to... You have no idea what you want. You pout and grab the fence. "GO AWAY!"

"Rowan, you're being an ass." Obi-Wan pries your fingers from the fence and that line appears between his brow. The one that says he's reaching the end of his patience.

His famed Jedi patience.

"I don't care." You try for dignified, but it comes out petulant.

Obi-Wan sighs, gives you a long look and releases your hands. "What do you want me to do?"

Oh ghods. You stare at him. Gape at him. Heart pounding. He put responsibility on you. You suck your lower lip in as you feel it begin to tremble. "I don't know," you whisper.

"Please." He holds out a hand, wincing as lightning hits a tree and winds down its trunk, sizzling and filling the air with the smell of ozone. "I won't go in until you do."

Your resistance crumbles. What the hell are you doing any way? With a nod, you turn and trudge towards the cave, aware of that protective presence right behind you, so close he's almost clipping your heels.

You reach the cave and slump to the ground, curling into a ball, arms around your knees as you stare at the fire. No way you're looking at him. Hot tears scald your eyes again, and you bury your face in your knees.

He settles across from you, and you're aware that he's giving you space.

The storm outside rages.

But the storm inside of you roars, deafening you to anything, and you sink into yourself, leaving the cave and him behind.

* * * *

Warmth surrounds you. Enfolds you. You smile to yourself and make a small, contented noise as you snuggle deeper into the covers.

Covers?

Eyes snapping open, you are suddenly aware of some overwhelming feedback coming from your body. A warm body is pressed against your back and a leg is thrown over yours. An arm over your waist holds you firmly against that warmth. As you slowly turn your head, you feel breath on your ear and neck, and shiver. The arm tightens in response and he sighs.

Your mind freezes as he shifts, leg tightening, pulling your entire body into contact with his. He's not awake, you can tell. When he's awake there's a constant energy present -- a quicksilver shifting of his thoughts, an almost visible aura of personality and force presence.

At rest or meditation it becomes muted, as it is now.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly begin to free yourself, inching forward. His hand tightens on your waist and a low growl of protest rumbles from his chest. You stop moving and listen. Still asleep.

Okay, so he's possessive about his sleep toys. You never would've guessed.

And...though you wouldn't admit it aloud, it's wonderful being snuggled against him. Feeling his chest rise against your back, his breath caressing the back of your neck. The arm around you is well-muscled but not overly so. His hand is strong, lightly callused from 'sabre work. Compact. You look down at the leg pinning yours down and resist the urge to reach out and trail your fingers along it. He has the musculature of a gymnast -- compact and tight. It's no wonder he can execute amazing flips and kicks.

He'd be one hell of an acrobat.

One hell of a lover. The thought creeps in and ambushes you, swamping your already tense body with an overload of images.

You're no innocent. Not with the Temple right there on Alderaan, and so many diplomatic occasions for the padawans to attend. Padawans bored with political talk, bored of standing at their master's shoulder looking politely serene.

While most Knights and Masters would seek companionship from their own ranks, Padawans tended to be more adventurous. Still exploring, open to new experiences -- to the dismay of said Masters at times.

You'd been tapped to be a Diplomatic Aide at fifteen. Formal schooling done, your parents had been eager to see you ensconced in the life they led, and pushed you to enter the political arena.

Too bad politics was something you despised. Still, you came from a family with a long history and tradition and there were expectations to be met.

There were a lot of boring diplomatic functions you attended, trying to hide your boredom and yawns behind a politely fixed smile. It was natural for you to gravitate to the padawans, and you'd felt fortunate to be allowed into their circle. It had fed the hunger in you -- something you couldn't name but was there every moment you breathed. You couldn't be a Jedi, but being with them was an acceptable substitute.

The padawans had opened your mind to looking at life not just with your eyes, but with your senses. They were the most alive people you had known. Being with them had brought a part of you to life you had denied, shut out.

It had also all but spoiled you for non-force sensitive lovers. Your first experiences were more than some people ever felt. Jedi did nothing half-hearted. An experience with them involved mind, body and soul.

And here you are now. On an island with one of the most intense Jedi Padawans you've ever met, undeniably attractive, smart... What are you fighting? Why?

Uncomfortable with the track your thoughts have taken, you squirm forward again, wanting, needing to put space between you and this man.

He snaps awake, arm tightening around you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just want to get up." You tap his arm and move restlessly.

"It's still raining," he purrs in your ear. "And cold. Why do you want to go out there?" His leg is still trapping yours and only tightens as you move.

"Did it ever occur to you I might have bodily needs?" You snap indignantly.

A pause, then a low rumbling laugh in his chest that vibrates your whole body. "Can't lie to a Jedi, Ro." He nuzzles your hair. "You were projecting earlier."

"I thought you were asleep!" Shit. Now you *really* want free, and squirm against him.

"Mostly," he agrees and you can hear the lazy smile without turning. His hand moves down to curve around your hip, holding you still. His lips drop to your ear and he whispers, "Are you trying to get loose or drive me to distraction with that wiggling?"

You freeze, suddenly hyper aware of the effect your movement has on his body. Your backside is tucked into the cradle of his hips and there is no mistaking the growing interest you feel there.

"Let me go," you order. All you know is you *have* to move.

With a sigh, he rolls away from you.

You scramble to your feet and turn to look at him still laying there.

Staring was not what you had in mind, but you can't tear your gaze off him. He lays, one arm stretched out across the indentation your body left in the sand. His other hand is on his stomach. One leg is straight, the other bent up at the knee, his foot on the floor. He watches you intently from half-hooded eyes.

Oh ghods.... How can one man be such a mixture of enticement and aggravation at the same time?

Rolling over on one side, he props himself up on one arm. "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid!" You deny adamantly.

"Lie to me, Ro, but don't lie to yourself."

You open your mouth to reply when a deafening crash and a rumble fills the air. You whirl and run to the entrance of the cave. Several of the trees next to the paddock, weakened by the rain and the wind, are listing seriously to one side. One has already fallen on the paddock fence, crushing that section into dangerously sharp spikes.

The horses were at the paddock gate as they are every morning, waiting to be fed or petted. The tree scattered the herd, but cut Lady off from the rest.

In a flash of precognition, you take a step forward, seeing the event split seconds before it happens. "Lady, no!"

The mare cuts away from the tree that already fell and runs just as another one comes crashing down on another section of the paddock fence. She tries to jump but doesn't have time or space and her legs tangle in the mess of fence and tree.

You're running as the mare goes down, heedless of the rain or anything else. Vaulting the downed tree, you climb over the remains of the fence trying to reach the flailing horse. "Lady, easy...easy, girl..." You croon to her, trying to calm her with your voice. Her eyes are rolling, whites vivid against the normally gentle brown of her irises.

There's blood everywhere near her legs and you swallow, forcing back your sickness as you see the angle her legs are at.

The mares legs are broken badly and torn open from the shards of wood. She's bleeding out and you're helpless to do anything.

Reaching out, you grab hold of her head, keeping away from her mouth and teeth. She's trembling, but doesn't fight as you begin to croon meaningless words to her, petting her forehead, her ears and forelock, as tears run down your face.

The mare starts violently as she sees another shape and you hold her still with strength you didn't know you had. Looking up, you don't want to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. You know it's bad. Too bad to save her. If you were on Alderaan, or any other civilized world, it would be treatable.

This is nowhere though.

"Lady...shhhh...I'm here. I won't leave, love. Shhh..." You put your cheek against her head.

A sudden surge in the force almost makes you jump and you look wide-eyed over at Obi-Wan. His eyes are closed, face a mask of concentration. His hands are resting on the mare's shoulders and you can *feel* the force moving around the horse's body.

You watch, both awed and afraid to hope, as the mare's torn and broken legs begin to heal, knitting bones and blood vessels before your eyes.

"Ro..." His voice is a whisper, and one hand reaches towards you blindly.

You lean forward to take his hand, grasping it tightly. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and concentrate on sending him any strength you have.

There's a sense of communion in this. An intimacy in sharing strength and working together that you never feel in any physical activity.

You feel closer to him now than when you were pressed up against his body.

Time seems to slow down and stretch as you drop deeper into the moment, and it's almost a shock to feel warm fingers caressing your cheek.

You open your eyes, blinking and feeling a little woozy.

A gentle smile curves his mouth as he cups your face in one hand. "We need to clear some of this debris before the compulsion wears off Lady."

"Huh?" You look down at the mare and see she's laying unnaturally still. "Oh....right." Scrambling up, you climb down and help him pull the shredded remains of the fence away from the mare.

Kneeling, you run your hands over her legs in amazement. "Skies...," you breathe.

Her legs are unmarked, unblemished. Perfectly healed. Blood dries on her legs, but no longer seeps from the wounds.

"Can you get her to stand and come over here?" Obi-Wan indicates a place clear of trees and fence.

Urging the dazed mare up, you steady her as she wobbles to her feet and staggers forward.

"Her legs will probably be stiff for a while and bruised." Obi-Wan bends and runs his hands down the horse's legs, eyes half-closed in concentration. "But the bones are whole again."

Lady suddenly snorts and shies back. You step away, watching carefully as she backs away gingerly, eyes rolling. Snorting loudly, she shakes her head, looks at you and gives a soft whicker. You turn sideways and she comes forward, nudging her head into your chest as you hug her.

Reassured, she pulls away, and turns to regard Obi-Wan. He watches her with a half-smile as she bobs her head in his direction before walking slowly off towards where the rest of the herd has gathered. She's moving slower than usual, but it's a miracle she's moving at all.

Suddenly you don't have any words to say. You turn towards him, mouth open and feel your throat tighten.

"She's all right," he assures you.

You nod, blinking back the sting of tears. Biting your lip as it trembles, you start to turn away, and hesitate.

He just saved one of the most precious things in your life. You know he doesn't expect any thanks. A glance towards him shows him watching the horses as they surround Lady and snuffle her. Smiling slightly, looking pleased. Content.

Without any awareness of moving, you suddenly wrap your arms around his waist and hug him, resting your forehead against his neck.

It's too late to worry about getting close to him. Too late to keep him from becoming something important to you.

He has.

He is.

As his arms close around you, you bury your face in his tunics and give yourself over to the moment. Your anxieties and fears are still there, but for now.... For now here is enough.

~~ If he keeps it up he's going to drive you insane.

Obi-Wan watches you while trying to pretend he isn't watching. No doubt he's trying to figure out the sudden and complete shift in your attitude -- and whether it's permanent or just a transitory, emotional thing. You can almost hear the thoughts flitting through his mind like a dog chasing its tail.

In the meantime, he's treating you carefully. Politely.

He has no friggin clue and you're not in the mood to give him one.

Time to get him away and do some thinking. "Would you mind going for some fruit?" You hold one of your bowls out. "You know, the grove over by the pool?"

His face pinks a bit and you have to fight to hide a smile. It's eternally endearing to see a Jedi blush. To see that cool composure rattled and know it's because of you.

That could become addicting.

"Of course." He takes the bowl and hesitates. "Green, ripe or squish?"

There's a twinkle in his eye, but he says in with a completely somber expression, as though this was the trial that will determine his knighthood.

Bowing low, you open your hands to either side as you come up but keep your head bowed. It's a gesture from some obscure world you forgot the name of where ritual posture and posing was as much a part of the language as speaking.

To your surprise and delight, Obi-Wan smoothly reflects the bow back, his open hands closing together as he rises, bowl still in hand. With a brief smile, he turns and strides off.

Watching him go, your appreciation for what the padawan knows rises. How the hell a Jedi padawan learned what is generally considered a dead communication form that only one obscure planet in the entire universe uses is something to ponder.

*Why* he would want to know something like that... Well, why did you learn it? You learned all sorts of obscure and odd things in your search for distance from your family. Something, anything, that would set you apart...and maybe garner a little attention for simply being you -- instead of "the House Artistides of Alderaan".

Wonder if Obi-Wan ever gets tired of being lumped in with all the other Jedi? Or for being "just" a padawan...as if that was no big thing. Sighing, you have to admit, Obi-Wan Kenobi is an extraordinary person. Jedi ability aside. Cultured, athletic, sharp sense of humor...he can match you on any subject, challenge your opinions and...

...he has a damn fine ass.

Watching until he disappears into the trees, you sigh and turn your attention to the paddock. It has to be repaired and work keeps the mind off troubles. Tying your hair back, you sigh and head for the downed trees.

~~

It's so humid and hot you work until you feel like you're going to melt into a puddle. "Forget it," you mutter, wiping your brow for the hundredth time. "Too stinking hot to do this."

The horses don't really need it anyway. They're avoiding that end of the paddock like the plague. It will probably be quite a while before they'll feel safe there again.

You set off for the beach, surprised Obi-Wan isn't back yet.

Then again, you were pretty clear about needing some space.

You have a sneaking suspicion he's gone out looking for more than just fruit for food. Fruit, dried seaweed and fish are probably getting pretty tiresome for him. He'd been eyeing the wild pigs the other day, and asked if it was against your beliefs to kill an animal for food.

On a planet light years away from civilization where food is what you find before it finds you?

Hardly!

Halfway to the beach, you decide to go to the pool instead. It's cooler and has that little waterfall.

Mind on other things, you don't really pay attention to where you're going. Until you hear the sounds. You stop, automatically freezing. If the storm has blown in some new predator, you don't really want to be it's first meal. The sounds are intermittent. You think they're coming from the same place, not moving. It's a little hard to tell with the thick foliage of the jungle refracting sounds. Creeping forward, you become concerned. It almost sounds like something in pain.

Dropping to a crouch, you inch forward until you can see the freshwater stream.

And stop.

It's a good thing you're already crouching, or you'd have been in serious danger of falling.

There's no wounded creature. No predator. No new creature on your island paradise.

You really shouldn't stay. Every bit of the manners your mother drummed into your head says to leave. You do raise your mental shields up as tight as you can...and drink in the sight before you.

Obi-Wan is laying on a slightly raised rock in the stream, bare as the day he was born. Sunlight filtering down through the jungle canopy dapples his body with golden light. The water splashes on him as the stream hits the rock and goes around, leaving droplets all over his glistening body. Eyes closed, head thrown back, braid trailing into the water, his hands are roaming up and down his chest.

A slight groan makes you shiver as he gently pinches one of his nipples. He trails his hand over to the other nipple and rubs it, making an odd, low rumbling-purring noise as he does.

You can't look away, even though you know you should. At this point, you don't think even a Rancor or gaggle of annoying Gungans could tear you away from this spectacle. Besides, your brain is quickly shorting out as you watch his hands move over his body.

He pulls one leg up as his hand trails down to his stomach and traces the muscles there, his other hand still teasing his nipples.

Oh ghods...you think. This is art come to life.

His hand wanders down to the red-gold curls, giving a teasing brush of his thumb to his rampant penis and another deep groan is pulled out of him as his hips snap up. Traveling lower, his fingers lightly brush over the crumpled velvet sacks before taking them gently in hand and rolling them.

Obi-Wan is panting slightly now, the groans increasing. His head rolls from side to side, eyes still closed. His tongue sweeps over his lips as his hand comes up to caress the length of his cock. Hips snapping up, he growls low and takes a firmer grip on himself, slowly stroking from base to tip.

Raising his other leg, he begins to thrust into his hand, grunting slightly and snapping his hips faster.

You really should leave. This is a private moment.

You would...if you could tear your eyes away from him. You've seen very few emotions cross this man's face since he landed on your world. Mostly aggravation at you. He's a Jedi. Controlled, serene.

The sight of him writhing in passion is intoxicating. His low growls and groans hold you in place, staring avidly.

His thrusting is getting wilder, an expression of desperate need on his face as he pants and grunts, hand gripping himself tighter, moving faster. Growling low, he suddenly throws his head back, hips snapping up in mindless thrusts as thick, white seed spurts onto his stomach and hand. Tremors shake his body as he thrusts several more times, each one a little slower before he finally stops.

Obi-Wan pants as his muscles relax, his legs sprawling back onto the rock. He has a look of utter bliss on his face as his hand slowly releases himself and trails up to rub the semen into his stomach in mindless circles.

He's beautiful. Beautiful in the passionately artless way of someone who doesn't try to be, but is.

Swallowing hard, you turn and creep silently away, leaving him as you should have when you first found him here.

Once you're away from the pool, you stand and make for the beach. The minute your feet hit the sand you run and dive into the cool water of the ocean.

The image of him pleasuring himself is burned into your memory, replaying every time you close your eyes.

Fighting past the waves, you swim, submersing thought in the concentration of movement. Arms move, legs kick and before you realize it...you're a hell of a longs ways out! The beach is still visible, but only as you roll upwards with the swell of a wave.

The water is colder than usual too, probably due to the storm. You're feeling chilled and realize you better get moving before your legs cramp up. Looking around you spot something you've seen but never ventured out to. A rock the size of a small island standing by itself. Probably part of a reef or shelf, but at this point, you see it as a place to rest and warm up.

When you finally reach the rock and scramble up above the water, you sit, shivering slightly. Climbing to the top of the big rock, you lay yourself out on the top to stare down into the waves hitting below you.

What's going on? Three years ago, if you'd come across him like that, you would've joined him without an iota of hesitation.

Has three years changed you so much?

Three years of isolation. No human contact.

Apparently it's done something.

You know damn well he's going to find out you saw him. How could he not when you can't stop thinking about it?

Then what?

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you scowl at the waves. You really don't know Obi-Wan very well. You know he's a Jedi padawan. You know various things about his training and life at the Temple. You know a little bit about his master and what he thinks of him.

You don't know him as a person.

And that is what is holding you back.

Even though he's the *only* other person on this world that you know of.

Well, whose fault is that, hmm? You grimace, hating that voice of reason in your mind. It's such a know-it-all at times. Before it can tell you to do something else you already know you should, you climb to your feet.

Crap. It's further than you realized.

You're quite the little princess out on your island, aren't you? With a nice deep moat to separate you from the handsome prince...

All you need is a dragon to complete this story.

Fine. Time to go back and face him. Look back into that face that will once again be serene and try not to recall how it looked in passion. Try not to imagine that look turned on you....

You dive, cutting into the cool water, shivering as it hits your body. Movement again drives away thought, but it's only a momentary cease.

As you stumble up on shore, waves pushing you forward, you look up and see Obi-Wan sitting on the beach, watching you. The appreciation in his eyes warms you, reminding you that you're soaked and not wearing a whole lot of clothing. He raises to his feet smoothly and waits as you walk towards him. "That was quite a ways out." Obi-Wan looks out at the distant rock, then back to you. There's no censure in his voice and you nod.

"Here." He wraps his cloak around you, smiling softly as the far-too-large cloak trails in the sand.

Your hands don't even come close to peeking out of the voluminous sleeves and you grin as you flap a brown-clad arm. "How the heck do you fight with these things on?"

"We don't." He grabs hold of your flapping arm and begins to roll the sleeve up until you once again have use of your hand. "They come off when we fight."

The words make you shiver and he stops to look at you. "Do you have to do that very often?"

"Fight?" At your nod, he begins rolling up the other sleeve, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Too often, yes. When we've tried everything else and it's the only way to either save ourselves or whoever we're protecting."

You think of the katas you've seen him practice. Of the sabre drills. The tone of his voice is quiet. You guess that while he loves the skill the katas and dueling requires, he doesn't enjoy actual deadly combat. "Why did you want to become a Jedi, Obi-Wan?"

Your question seems to take him by surprise and he hesitates before finishing the second sleeve. He pulls the cloak around you, overlapping the edges and looks into your eyes. "When I was growing up in the crèche, it's all I dreamed about. As an initiate, I ate, breathed and studied as hard as I could so that when it was time I could be chosen as an apprentice." He hesitates, then continues. "At thirteen, I was sent to Bandomeer to join AgriCorps." He smiles slightly at your start of surprise. "I wasn't chosen at the Temple." Obi-Wan straightens the hood out, lifting your wet hair out of the cloak and finger-combing it. "Qui-Gon accepted me as his apprentice in a mine on Bandomeer."

A bittersweet expression flickers across his face and is gone before you're sure it was there. "We had a rough start together, but we've become a good team."

"So...you became a Jedi because of Qui-Gon choosing you?" You know there's more to it, but he's not going to give up this information easily.

Typical Jedi.

"No." Obi-Wan sighs and looks out at the ocean. "What else would I be?" He looks at you again and draws you down to sit, cross-legged, facing him. "It's a good question. One I've thought about before. There is nothing else I want to be. Nothing that challenges me, uses the skills I have, calls on the gifts I've been given. I could be anything." He says it without pride. A statement of fact. "Go into the private sector and be a pilot, make a load of money..." Obi-Wan shakes his head. "But that would leave a gaping hole in me."

He takes your hands in his, looking at them and brushing his thumbs along the tops. "I'm a Jedi because there is nothing else I want to be as badly as I do this."

You stare at him, awed by the way he just opened up to you. There are depths to him you might never discover.

And it surprises you how badly you do want to discover them.

That longing scares you. Badly. You avoid looking at him, look away from his hands holding yours and fight the urge to pull your hands away.

What the hell are you thinking? He's just said being a Jedi was his only dream. His only goal. You know what that means. Know it from the Jedi on Alderaan.

They don't have much of a life apart from that of service to others. A few days here and there before they're sent off again to possibly never return. It's a hard life, and not one given to committed relationships outside the Jedi Order.

Yet, for all of that, you still feel aching regret that your parents took the choice away from you.

You were denied that same opportunity, but...what have you done since?

Nothing. Not a damn thing...apart from landing yourself on a deserted island for three years.

"Live in the now."

The softly accented voice jerks your attention back and you look up, blinking. "What?"

Obi-Wan regards you solemnly. "You have to let go of the past. It's taking away from what you could have in the present." He squeezes your hands as you frown. "Accept that you cannot be a Jedi and release your regrets. They're only eating away time and energy that would be better spent on what you *can* do."

The damned ache that is never far from your mind kicks in, the anger chasing right after. "What the hell do you know-"

"I know." Obi-Wan won't let go of your hands. He's holding you down, gently, but firmly as you struggle to free yourself. "No running, Ro." He leans forward, voice and expression gently coaxing, "Face this. I'll help you."

"Let me go!" To your horror tears well up and you scowl fiercely, refusing to cry in front of him again. Your attempt to stand is thwarted as he scoots forward suddenly, bracketing you in with his legs.

You could kick him. That would make him back off quickly, and you can see that he knows it as he gazes steadily at you.

He's opened himself up to hurt, and why? His closeness, his steady gaze, the pure concentration that he is attending to you with, is terrifying. "Why are you doing this to me?" It comes out sounding like a petulant child and you grimace.

"Because I do know what it feels like." Obi-Wan let's go of your hands and shifts his grip to your shoulders. "Do you think I never have felt rejection? Never lost a dream?" His eyes will you to hold his gaze. "I was sent from the Temple. Rejected. I was too old and no Master had chosen me. As far as I knew at that point, my life as a Jedi was over."

"Obviously not." Ghods, you can't believe the derision dripping from your voice and look away. He's telling you things he's probably never shared with anyone else and you're deriding him.

Closing your eyes, you shake your head silently.

"I thought it was." He gives you a gentle shake to make you look at him again. "They might as well have said I wasn't good enough to be a Jedi. Think how that felt, Ro! I was brought into the crèche before I even learned to walk. I don't remember my birth parents. The Jedi were my family. The Temple was my home."

Your defiance crumbles as what he's saying sinks in. "You were rejected by the only family you knew. At thirteen?" You swallow, trying to process that idea. Trying to imagine your family, regardless of how they tried to push and mold you, rejecting you. At any age.

He nods. "Because I was too old."

You don't see any resentment in his blue-green eyes. No anger. Shaking your head, you can't even begin to realize how that must have felt.

"Qui-Gon and I met again on the transport to Bandomeer and he still didn't want to acknowledge that the force was bringing us together for a purpose." A small, wry smile curves his mouth. "With a little help from Master Yoda."

"Then how did you get to be his padawan?"

Obi-Wan sighs. "Long story short, we were trapped in a mine and he came to the realization that he needed to release the past in order to embrace the future."

You frown slightly. There's a hell of a lot more to that story, no doubt! "So he took you as his padawan and you've lived happily ever after?"

Giving you a dry look for your sarcasm, Obi-Wan shakes his head. "No. Not long after I became his padawan, I quit."

"Right..." You laugh. "Just handed in the resignation, asked for severance pay and went your merry way?" When his expression doesn't change, you frown. "You're kidding, right? After all you went through to get accepted you just walked away?"

"I thought I had found a reason -- a cause -- more important than that of the Jedi." His expression is neutral. "A place I felt like I truly belonged."

"But you didn't?" You're very curious about what in the world could've seduced such a dedicated, intense man away from something he obviously believed in.

"It blew up in my face." A wry smile tugs at Obi-Wan's mouth. "I had to ask Qui-Gon to come back and get me, apologize to him and, far worse, had to explain my actions to the Council." The light dies from his expression. "It was one of the darkest times of my life. I realized the worth of what I'd thrown away, and wasn't certain I would be able to regain it. Qui-Gon had finally started trusting me, and I broke with him." He shakes his head, mouth pursed for a moment.

You stare at him. How can he just open up and confess all of this to you? You. He doesn't know you. Not really.

Why does he even care to begin with? Is it some Jedi thing?

No. Too superficial. You know better than that.

He can reach past what hurts him to help another person. *That* is one of the traits of this man that shines through and draws you to him like a moth to flame.

You could resist the looks, though it would be a severe temptation. You could resist the lure and appeal of his being a Jedi. You know other men just as intelligent and cultured. But the beauty of this soul.... That you cannot resist.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan fixes his gaze on you again. "I had to let go of the regret for all that I had done. I couldn't go back and change it. Couldn't bring dead people back to life, or make everything right simply by the strength of my wish that none of it had happened." He arches an eyebrow. "I had to learn to live in the Now and not let the past rule my future."

He's done it again. Turned it around and put the challenge of choice on you.

"Obi-Wan..." Your voice is very quiet, almost a whisper. "I don't know that I'm ..." You shrug, overwhelmed and not a little hysterical. "Enough of anything to do that. I'm not a Jedi, with all the patience, and meditation, and mental honing, and -"

"Easy..." Obi-Wan lets go of your shoulders to cup your face gently in both hands. "You are enough. I know you are." His thumbs sweep up across your cheeks to wipe away tears you didn't even realize had fallen. "But you don't have to do it alone...unless you want to."

Seeing the warmth and something else you don't even want to name in his eyes, you shake your head. Time to say it aloud and make it real. Time to let go of what you've been clinging too so tenaciously.

It's frightening. Reaching out, even with him sitting practically in your lap...

It's a long ways to reach for a person isolated in her own mind for so long. You've built walls and shored them up in the time you've been alone. Built moats and castles, created dragons that now you're not certain you can slay.

Your heart is pounding as you speak. Admitting what you haven't wanted to, have fought against realizing. "I don't want to be alone." The sound of the surf is louder than your words, but he hears.

A soft smile sweeps his lips up and he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. His arms settle gently around your waist and you feel safe. Cocooned by the nubby warmth of his cloak, his body and his presence. The whisper of a caress across your mind. Primal reassurance at a deeper place than any words could ever hope to touch.

For longer than you remember, this is what you hungered for. This closeness. Closeness that couldn't come from the physical alone.

Another tear slips down your face and the arms about you tighten. The mental presence in your mind embraces you, weaving warmth and brightness until you no longer feel the fear.

No doubts that he cares. No doubts of waking to find him gone.

You aren't alone.

Tomorrow will come. Uncertainty will come.

You are content to live in the Now.

~~

It's a lovely evening. The moons are just beginning to rise, chasing the last pink streaks of the sunset from the sky. The stars are glowing softly in the twilight, and birds call to one another from the trees, signaling the end of another day.

A light breeze blows a wisp of hair back from your face as you walk on the beach.

You stop, closing your eyes to increase your attention to what you smell.

A few more yards and you're in the clearing.

You knew it.

He *had* found and speared one of the wild pigs. It's spitted on a stick over the fire, Obi-Wan turning it carefully...slowly...almost worshipfully. You have to admit...it smells pretty wonderful.

You sit in companionable silence, both staring into the fire.

Well, you're watching the flames. He's trying not to salivate as he watches that pig roast. He looks so young at times. When he smiles, in his sleep, when he gets that mischievous gleam in his eyes. Right now, as he glances furtively at you, then anxiously back at the pig.

"You know," you drawl, "watching doesn't make it cook faster." You lean forward, resting your forearms on your knees. "Or are you doing some Jedi mind thing to speed it up?"

The look he gives you tells you just what he thinks of your sense of humour. "That would be an inappropriate use of the force," he says almost primly.

You fight it. Really try not to let it out. The chuckle rises out of you regardless of trying to smother it. "Oh, and we *never* would do that, would we, oh Perfect Padawan?" You're not sure why you're baiting him tonight, apart from the fact it's a lot of fun.

Turning from the pig, he focuses his entire attention on you, studying you like some bacteria under a 'scope. "You're deliberately trying to provoke me."

You note, however, he doesn't stop turning the spit.

Rolling your eyes, you flap a hand at him. The rolled sleeve of his cloak that you're still wearing comes undone and your hand disappears again. "Don't flatter yourself. It's you or the pig, and frankly, the pig isn't a big conversationalist."

Both hands come off the spit, which *still* doesn't stop turning and you try to distract him by flapping your arms, which have been engulfed by the cloak, towards the pig. "Padawan Kenobi, that is Major Inappropriate Use of the Force!"

He shakes his head, turns back and once again begins to manually turn the spit.

Heh. You grin smugly and mentally score one for yourself.

"I had thought," he drawls in that smooth, cultured voice. The one that does the melting thing to your insides. "That I had eluded the influence of authority upon my precipitous arrival on this world." He looks at you with a blasé expression. "I see now I've merely traded one Master for another."

Oh... You sit back for a moment to appreciate the subtlety of that statement. "Are you calling *me* your Master?"

Obi-Wan smirks. "You saved me, fed me, give me tasks..." The twinkle in his eye belies the seriousness of his voice. "It is somewhat like Qui-Gon has done for me as his padawan."

You're enjoying this now. "So...are you under the submission of my authority, padawan?" You deliberately emphasize his title.

Something flickers across his face, too quickly for you to make it out. Obi-Wan's expression melts into the smooth, emotionless mien of a Jedi as he bows his head. "I submit my body and will to your wishes, M'lady." He looks up from under dark lashes, one side of his mouth quirking up minutely. "I trust that you would not..abuse the privilege."

He's good. Very good. What you would expect from a Master Diplomat's apprentice.

You smile, open your mouth to acknowledge his remark....

The inference of his statement hits your sluggish mind with the impact of a meteorite, and the ripples of just what that little curl of his lips was about sends shivers down your spine.

Score one for the padawan.

Three years alone has obviously dulled your wits a bit. Maybe more than your wits alone.

Your eyes widen slightly as you look up at him, and you feel a warm flush on your face that spreads down your neck in a tingle at the open desire you read in his gaze.

The serene facade of a Jedi is gone and you're facing a man.

A man who is making it clear, even for your dim wits, that he wants you.

Your mind is doing a quick meltdown and habit kicks in, taking over where your intellect is rapidly failing.

"You're observant, Padawan." Gathering up your tattered composure, you draw his cloak around you, and do your best to imitate the matriarchs of your clan, down to the snotty accent and expression. "And I'm gratified to see you finally comprehend how a member of a Royal House of Alderaan should be treated."

Another mental chalkmark for you as he arches a red-gold eyebrow and looks away. No doubt that response was not what he was hoping for. He bows from the waist, turning his attention to the spit once again and you're grateful for the reprieve. "I live to serve the Force, M'lady."

You just can't leave well enough alone. "Ah..and the Force told you to pay attention to that pig, hmm?"

Obi-Wan's lips curl in a slight smile, firelight flowing over his features casting them in a gold light. The light catches the red in his hair, and you realize it's lightened a bit since he arrived. It was mostly brown then, but with the influence of the sun and saltwater he's now more of a strawberry blonde. "Not precisely." The heated look he slants you makes you glad you're sitting down already.

Damn this effect he has on you! You look away and curl your toes into the sand under the cover of his cloak telling your skittering heart to stop the nonsense. Grabbing at the first idea to cross your mind, you try for nonchalance in your tone of voice. "Tell me about Master Jinn."

"What do you wish to know?" He's smiling slightly. Aware of your retreat and enough of a gentleman to be gracious about it.

You shrug, snuggling down into the cloak. "What's it like, having that sort of relationship and bond? Is he a like a father to you?" You look up, honestly curious, but aware you might have pushed too far into personal matters this time.

Here you are unwilling to open up to him, and asking him to spill his guts to you. Sometimes your audacity astounds even you.

The master/padawan bond was something the close-minded girls in the elite school you attended giggled about, debated endlessly and titillated themselves with. They decided it was either a form of indentured slavery or something vaguely sexual, but having little or no experience in their sheltered lives, what they imagined was decidedly tame.

All sorts of stories about what goes on in the Temple thrived on Alderaan, even though it is a fairly forward-thinking society. The Jedi, with their secretive, quiet ways naturally engendered those kind of ideas.

Obi-Wan sits, facing you, and seems to consider your words a moment. "I never had parents, not in the traditional sense of the word. There were crèche masters and teaching masters who spent a great deal of time instructing us." He shakes his head. "Jedi children are raised so differently it can be difficult for a non-Jedi to understand."

"Try me." You smile and lean forward, elbows on your knees. "Where you hugged when you cried? Was there someone to hold you when you woke up from a bad dream? Did they laugh and play with you?" You can't imagine they didn't. Obi-Wan is easily affectionate from what you've seen. Secure in who he is.

You just have to get past the Jedi persona to see any of that.

But then, you think with a sigh, we all have our masks.

He shakes his head, a patiently tolerant smile curving his lips. "Didn't you ever visit your brother at the Temple?"

"Sure." Your mouth pulls up in a wry smile. "I'd skip class and go to the Temple every time I could. But..." You grin at the memories.   "Most of the time the Jedi knew I shouldn't be there and sent me back. I only got to see my brother very few times." A sad look flits across your face. "They were protective of him. Can't say I blame them, knowing what my mother was like. Still..."

"You asked about Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan seems to decide to focus on that instead of the broad base of topics you introduced. "He has been the largest influence on my life. I suppose you could equate that to a father." He reaches for a stick and stirs the coals under the spit. "I was already thirteen when I became his apprentice, so...a great deal of my formative years were already behind me."

You rest your chin on your upraised hands to hide your delighted grin in the cloak sleeves. He's being quite open tonight. A variety of expressions cross his face as he ponders how to explain a Jedi padawan's life. Even in this, Obi-Wan is scrupulously honest, striving to explain to you what he knows in ways that equate to your life.

That alone tells you a great deal about this padawan.

"You respect him a great deal."

He looks at you, then nods. "Qui-Gon is a superb Jedi. We have our disagreements. I respect him even more for allowing me my own opinions, for encouraging me to think independently of him." Obi-Wan purses his lips slightly as he looks at the pig. "Not every master is so generous to their padawan."

Somehow that doesn't surprise you. Shrugging, you say, "Well, neither is every parent. It just proves that they're as fallible as the next being."

His gaze is intense as it turns to lock on you. You obviously hit a nerve with your statement. "That's just it. He can make mistakes, but..." The furrow is back as he frowns, seeming to remember some particular instance. Or maybe a whole string of them. You really haven't delved much into his life as a Jedi. "People expect Jedi to be more than human. To be perfect, not make mistakes. Not bleed."

You nod, expression deliberately mild as you say the first thing that comes to mind. "Some of that pressure comes from inside though...doesn't it?"

Obi-Wan's frown deepens. He stares at you, obviously waiting politely, if impatiently, for you to explain what you just said.

Intense, intense.... You wonder if Qui-Gon Jinn is as intensely focused as his padawan. If so...maybe you truly *don't* want to find your ride back to civilization with them.

Or you need to find something that relaxes them. You wonder if suggesting they stay in meditation for the bulk of the journey is too pushy.

"You put pressure on yourselves to be perfect. To meet impossibly high standards and goals that the rest of us don't even dream of reaching." You wiggle your toes in the sand, looking down. Having his undivided attention is a bit overwhelming. "Jedi *can* do amazing things. You can seem almost untouchable in your Temples. Hiding your emotions and bodies behind these cloaks, and that inscrutable expression. When you are out in public and we see you acting in a situation..." You look up, shaking your head. "We're in awe at the speed and precision it's done with, the way you know things before they happen..."

"It's a matter of reflexes," Obi-Wan states in a matter-of-fact tone.   "You've exhibited the same ability."

"But I haven't trained it to a honed edge." You flap a hand at him. "Jedi are the peace keepers, but skies above, Obi-Wan... Anyone who has seen a Jedi in battle doesn't have to be told what it would mean to have the Order fighting for their side! It takes little imagination to put that together and realize that with their skills, the Jedi could easily have the rest of us subdued."

His frown deepens and his expression is gravely serious. "We don't use those skills for any one person. The Order exists to keep balance."

"Do you?" Leaning forward now, you meet his gaze challengingly. This is your turf and it's as familiar to you as his lightsabre is to him. "Maybe you didn't start that way, and maybe it's not supposed to be that way, but..." You shake your head. "The Senate has a hand in every mission, every decision you negotiate."

His expression is suddenly closed to you. Guarded and blank...Jedi once again. "I don't believe you are qualified to speak on these matters."

A sarcastic smile plays over your lips. "I grew up in the middle of political schemes, Obi-Wan. Alderaan is a peaceful world and pacifistic to the most part, but..." You can't help the bitter inner twist you feel. "That has never stopped any of my people from political machinations to better their cause. And if they are able gain the ear of the Supreme Chancellor and convince him to their way of thinking, then they never hesitate to do so. Hell, if they could seduce the Jedi to support them, they would!" You wrap your arms around your waist, suddenly chilled and tired. "The Jedi are pawns in the galactic political game as much as the rest of us."

He is silent, gaze once again on the fire, and the turning pig. Giving you no indication that he is listening.

Well. You finally managed to alienate him.

It doesn't change the way you feel. What you said is true. The corruption you've seen on Alderaan, on Coruscant, and in all of the Core Worlds has sickened you. The Republic is like some giant creature, rotting from the inside out.

The Jedi aren't to blame for it. They've been guardians of the Republic for so long it's possible they just haven't seen the subtle signs of change. Jedi are traditionalists. Old Guard. Almost creatures of the grand past in the present age.

Too noble for their own good.

You shiver, hating it when this angsty gloom settles over you. It's like having a cloud hovering over your head, raining on you alone.

With a sigh, you look up at Obi-Wan. He's steadfastly turning the spit, looking serene -- except that the furrow between his eyebrows is still there. "I'm sorry." You flap an arm at him. "I wasn't putting your Order down, Obi-Wan. If anything..." You shiver again.   "You are the only shining jewel left in the Republic."

He doesn't answer at first, but you've become used to that. It seems he's been taught to consider before he speaks. Something you could take a tip from.

Obi-Wan looks up and it seems as though he's resolved something inside. "No...you aren't entirely wrong. Change is coming," he admits reluctantly. With a rare show of temper, he spins the spit and sits back on his heels with a ferocious scowl. "And here I am stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere!"

The sudden fierceness takes you by surprise and you rock backwards, almost as if reeling from a blow.

You know he didn't mean that personally. You tell yourself that again, trying to solidify it.

That doesn't stop the small ache that squeezes your heart.

"Don't."

You didn't even see him move, but suddenly he's there next to you, his hand on your arm. You start slightly, pulling back reflexively. "What?"

"Don't run off." His expression is both shamed and annoyed. " I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't directed at you."

"I know." You shrug, clinging to a nonchalance you are far from feeling. "You certainly are allowed your own opinions around me." You shake off his hand, irritated at being treated like spun glass. The comment about running stings too. "I can handle opposition, Kenobi."

He frowns slightly, but raises to his feet as you hold his gaze evenly. With an almost imperceptible nod, he returns to the spit.

Great.

All the ground you two gained...seemingly gone.

Over what? Political disagreement?

You shake your head, annoyance growing, and stand. "Where's the fruit bowl?"

Obi-Wan points it out, his expression inscrutable again.

"You got the pig and forgot fruit." It's a pissy complaint, but in your state of mind you don't care. You walk over to pick up the bowl, trip on the cloak and fling it off with an irritable growl. "I'll go get it."

Marching off, your best regal expression firmly on your face, you just barely hear him sigh, "Looks like it's you and me, pig."

~*~*~

Back to the fruit grove.

You heave the overripe fruit at the trees with gusto, grinning ferociously as the fruit splats against the bark. "Not qualified, my ass!"

SPLAT!

"Smug bastard!"

SPLOOSH!

Hefting a nice, large, juicy fruit you walk over to one of the trees that has a perfect 'v' shaped area between two thick limbs. You snap off a leafy twig, stick it in the fruit so it dangles down from the side and draw on eyes and lips with the smeared remains of another fruit. You set it in the 'v', adjusting it just...so.

Stepping back to admire your handiwork, you smile.

Perfect.

"Just like a man to have his head between his legs." You heft a rock and step a little further back.

Yep. You can imagine that's him.

Drawing your arm back you take careful aim. You picture that calm, inscrutable expression as he looked at you like you were a little bug...

SPLAT!!

You feel a calmness descend as you watch the fruit and twig tumble off the tree and land with a resounding squish on the ground.

"Yep. I feel much better." Picking up the bowl and humming to yourself, you set about doing what you originally came here for -- gathering fruit.

~*~

"All right," you march back into the clearing some time later, carrying a bowl of fruit and some conclusions. "I won't talk about politics or what I think of your Order, because you obviously think I don't know enough to have a viable opinion."

Obi-Wan looks up calmly. He was probably expecting another argument from you. "That is not what I said." He gives you what you've come to call his 'tolerant of the wack' look.

"You said I wasn't qualified to speak about those things." Putting the fruit bowl down, you plant your hands on your hips.

"Are you?" He gazes evenly at you. "Do you sit in on the Senate Meetings? Or the Jedi Council?" Obi-Wan shakes his head. "No. Neither do I. It's speculation on our part. Until either of us has a theory based in facts I don't think we are qualified."

Impasse.

His statement is such a product of his training and philosophy of life that you really have nothing to offer against it. Nothing that his logic couldn't cut to shreds.

Whatever happened to intuition you heard the Jedi relied on?

Looks like Master Jinn's apprentice comes from the bottom line school of thought.

"Is that pig done yet?" Sighing, you sink down to sit across the fire from him. You give him a forlorn look and are rewarded with a small smile that warms his face. "I'm not in the mood to debate any more and I've been smelling that thing cooking for hours!"

"It's close," Obi-Wan assures you.

"Good." Pulling your knees up to your chest, you wrap your arms around your legs and lock your hands together. You stare broodingly into the fire, still not entirely able to shake the angsty blackness.

Your brooding is broken when he rises smoothly to his feet, picks up his cloak where you dumped it and walks around the fire. He kneels and wraps it around you, tucking in the edges.

"I'm sorry I'm such a pain in your ass," you sigh. At least at this particular moment you're sorry.

"I assure you, my ass is not hurting." He says it with a straight face, that cultured tone drawing the words out.

The laughter bubbles out of you, and you go with the moment, reaching out of the cloak to hug him. His arms wrap around you and you rest your forehead in the crook of his shoulder and neck. You close your eyes and breathe in the scent of his skin and the slightly smoky scent of the fire that clings to his clothing.

This close you could lean in and kiss his neck.

Nibble his ear.

Slip your arms down and see if that great ass is as firm as it looks...

You know damn well he wouldn't object. Odds are he's waiting for you to make the first move.

A chuckle builds to a laugh and you pull back, grabbing hold of his braid as you grin up at him. "Obi-Wan?"

"Mmm?" His eyes are darker than usual, the pupils dilated in the darkness. You can almost feel his anticipation as he leans towards you.

You give his braid a gentle tug, pulling his head to the side before his lips can meet yours. Your breath fans his ear and you sense an involuntary shiver along his spine. His arms tighten and you know damn well what kind of effect you're having on him. You lean closer to whisper, "Your pig is burning."

He smiles slowly. "My..." He jumps to his feet, looking at the pig. It is most definitely on fire. "Kuso!" Obi-Wan darts over to the spit, rescuing dinner from becoming charcoal.

How often does a person get to see a Jedi padawan hopping around, juggling a burning pig?

This even beats bashing the pulp out of fruit for stress relief!

~*~*~

Running in the mornings is your time to think.

Meditation of a sort, but with your own unique take on it. You'd tried the more formal style before, but holding still just made your mind run in circles. Movement frees your thoughts. Occupies your body and lets your mind work on other things.

You're not really paying attention to the waves, or the pinks and yellows of the sun sliding up over the mountain cliffs. Your feet move in a rhythm that becomes almost like a chant -- feet hitting the sand, pushing off, rising, moving you forward.

Each step takes you further up the island in a familiar route.

Days there were you would swear you circled the entire island out of sheer boredom. It's far from true. The island is huge. You've been to most of it, but there are still some inaccessible areas you couldn't find a way into. Areas of mountains sheering sharply into the sky then plunging into forested valleys so dense with vegetation you couldn't make out much. The fog hugs those mountains making it hard to see even on the clearest of days. Seven Falls was a hard enough trip, almost fatal the second time in. You've never felt the need to push your luck or life by trying for one of those hidden gorges.

Eventually, if the padawan hadn't arrived, you probably would've tried out of sheer boredom.

Another insanity his arrival precluded.

Hurdling a downed tree, you pick up your pace.

Your body needs some major distraction for your mind to consider this subject without your hormones overriding thought.

You left Obi-Wan setting out for the pool after his morning katas.

This bath, you firmly instructed yourself, you would *not* be watching.

Bad enough you got away with it once.

It was proving to be too great a temptation, so...you went for a run. As far down the beach as you can go -- and know you have the energy to make it back from.

The image of a freshly washed padawan, remembering the way his skin smells and looks... The way the water and sunlight played on his skin... Well, you really don't need much more of a reason to make it back than that!

You jog back into the forest, slowing to a walk and make a side-trip to a little waterfall that usually is running after a recent rain. Cooling yourself off in the water, you give yourself a quick scrub to remove the sweat then take the time to finger comb the tangles out of your hair.

Deciding you've dallied long enough, you head back for the clearing. He should be back from the pool.

Temptation removed.

You congratulate yourself on your strength of character with a smirk.

Yeah. Real strong will. Indomitable stuff -- as long as there's no naked padawan around.

 You drag your mind back to more useful things. Chores you really don't want to finish, like the paddock fence, things you want to do.

Stubborn beast that your mind is, it skitters right back to the image of Obi-Wan.

Rolling your eyes, you check your shields. If your mind persists in dallying on him pleasuring himself, you had damn well better not be projecting.

Strolling back into the clearing, a blissed-out smile on your face, you stop as you see he's back.

Obi-Wan is sitting in a patch of sunlight, scowling at something.

Whoa... You almost take a step backwards in surprise.

Frustration and anxiety churns from him, so clearly it's almost something you can see.

The emotions rolling off the padawan are not what you're used to and for a moment...you just stare.

This is the same man who performed high-level katas this morning, requiring him to be centered. He had been so focused, so intent, you weren't sure he even was aware of you watching.

Even when he'd left, heading for the pool, you hadn't sensed any agitation in him. Obi-Wan reminds you of the ocean. A presence with a boundless depth, unexplored secrets and waves the stir the surface, sometimes stirring the depths. He hasn't perfected the "mysterious Jedi" thing yet, but he has so much to him, so many facets, you're not sure you'll ever see them.

Or if he'd even allow you, a non-Jedi, to see all those sides. Jedi are very secretive, taking on the role of mysterious guardians without much effort.

Storm warnings ahead...

Today, this is not a happy padawan.

Obi-Wan mutters angrily as he yanks his fingers through the long hair trailing down his chest almost to his stomach. The hair, free from the braid, is tangled badly. From the looks of it, it won't last much longer under the onslaught of the padawan's aggravated ripping.

As much as you doubt your ability to deal with whatever could possibly have upset *him* considering all of your own inner demons, you can't just watch or ignore his distress.

Even if he doesn't want your help.

Obi-Wan never let your reluctance stop him.

You walk forward and sink down to sit at his side, facing him. "You're going to be a braidless padawan if you keep that up. And what is a padawan without his braid?" Pushing his hands aside, you take up the task of working out the snarls and tangles.

"A Knight."

You shake your head at his dry, precise tone. Perfectly sarcastic, this man.

At least when he's irked.

He winces as you tug a little too enthusiastically. "That *is* attached," he rasps and slants you an impatient look.

"You were yanking on it harder than me, so just relax." You ignore his indignant sniff and continue, starting from the wavy ends and working you way up the hair.

It takes a bit of time, but you've untangled worse snarls on the horse's long manes and tails. You know it just takes patience.

Something he seems to be lacking today.

You take a little longer than necessary to comb your fingers through the hair, tilting it so the sun picks up the red and gold highlights. "People pay huge amounts of money to get this color," you muse aloud. Reaching up to where the braid begins, you gently stroke your fingers across his temple and down behind his ear, following the long tail. "Want to talk about it?"

"About what?" His tone is a bit sullen, but he's not looking quite as irritated as before.

You repeat the motion, managing to hold back a smile as he leans into your touch ever so slightly. "Whatever is bothering you."

Dividing the hair into three even sections you begin to braid it, weaving the sections in and out.

Obi-Wan doesn't answer, but then... You aren't really surprised. Jedi aren't known for being forthcoming with their emotions. They deal with them through meditation, not discussion.

If you want help, they're probably the best people to go to -- provided you don't mind getting a blunt or enigmatic answer.

They are used to dealing with their own thoughts and emotions on their own. Going to someone outside usually never occurs to them. They have their minds, and the Force...

Sufficient to themselves.

This, however, is a padawan. A student, still used to having a master around to confide in and lean on. He's not far from being a Knight -- maybe several years. Still, those years are where they develop more independence and learn to rely on themselves and their own judgements.

A padawan is still a work in progress.

He's been deprived of having his master's assurances for several months now. And you...well, you've been far from supportive.

Taking the yellow tie from his hand, you wrap it around the upper section of braid before continuing to braid.

"I know I'm far from the wisest person." You keep your eyes on the braid as you feel his gaze on you. "Even I can tell something is bothering you." You take the red tie and finish off the braid, finger combing the bottom. "And seeing that I'm the only other person to talk to on this island..." You look up, almost afraid to see him frowning.

He's studying you, expression unreadable.

"Is it that bad?" You make yourself stay put, fighting the urge to fidget. "I mean, have you finally decided I'm entirely wacked and you're off to find another island on this world because you just can't put up with my incessant psychotic problems?" The babbling continues as your nerves stretch tighter under that steady gaze. "I wouldn't blame you because heaven knows there are days I want to get away from myself and no doubt the horses do too and I'm sure you'd be happier on your own away from someone who can't even remember to shield her own thoughts and spies on you and -

You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes widening.

Crap.

You hadn't meant to admit *that*!

A spark ignites deep in the azure eyes and Obi-Wan leans closer, making you aware of just how close you're sitting. Half-hooded eyes, slits of cerulean shading to emerald, bore into you as sit as though pinned in place.

"I wondered if you were going to admit that." His breath puffs against your face as he leans closer. Close enough for you to make out the specks of gold in his eyes and the length of his eyelashes that sweep over those amazing eyes. "You watched me."

It's a statement delivered with a bone melting smile that curves his mouth roguishly.

He's not upset.

He seems almost pleased.

You open your mouth to make a remark about exhibitionists, but he closes the distance between you suddenly. The touch of his lips on yours steals the words, your breath, and every coherent thought as he teases you with the lightest touch, like the sweep of a butterfly wing, that sends a shudder through you.

Eyes falling closed, you let his warmth and energy surround you, doing your damndest not to moan as he nips lightly at your lips before sealing his mouth over yours.

Oh ghods... You did die when your ship crashed, you know that now. You died and this is heaven...

Fingers stroking your face bring you back to your senses and you slowly open your eyes, staring with the glazed look of a drunk at the concerned face before you. "Unnngh..."

Very coherent. One of the more intelligent things you've said today, no doubt.

A rather smug expression quirks his lips as Obi-Wan cups your face. "You are very responsive." His heated gaze warms you to the point of melting, but that smug look requires - *demands* - a response.

An indignant frown forms as you pull away to growl, "You live three years alone on an island with no people around and see how..."

Crap.

He's laughing now, shoulders shaking, eyes gleaming.

It's the first time you've heard him laugh -- really laugh -- and it's entrancing. An idiotic smile quirks your mouth. How can you stay mad at this imp? Especially now that whatever it was bothering him is gone for the moment.

"You're a real smart-ass for a Jedi, Kenobi!" You poke him in the ribs, smirking at his slight yelp but fail to avoid the hands that snake out to grab your wrists.

"And you..." With a twist, Obi-Wan deftly rolls you onto your back, leaning over and putting one arm on either side of your shoulders. "...are a tease."

Your eyebrows rise. "Me?" You smile wickedly at him, reaching up to tug on the braid trailing over his shoulder. "Who has taken to doing his katas wearing only his leggings?"

"It's hot," Obi-Wan says as if that is perfectly reasonable. His smile doesn't abate one iota though. "And someone told me I was as pale as the underside of a Calamarian."

"Smart-ass and vain." You tsk and shake your head.

With an easy smile, he rolls away and rises to his feet in one smooth move. Extending a hand to you, he helps you up. "Can I ask you to do something?"

There's a loaded question.

Is there anything he could ask that you might consider not doing?

Not likely.

Rechecking your shields, you hope he hasn't picked up on that line of thought and smile, shrugging. "Uh...sure."
Your curious. What could he possibly feel he has to ask?

"Can you take me to see Seven Falls?"

The look on your face is probably comedic.

Well. Hell. *That* wasn't exactly what you saw coming.

You recover your wits and actually think before answering. "It's not the easiest trip, Obi-Wan. There are at least....five vertical climbs worse than the one I took you on to look at the falls."

He hadn't seemed to enjoy that much last time.

"I understand." His gaze is steady as he looks at you.

You don't know if he does. Not really. It's a dangerous trip.

He's a Jedi Padawan. He's probably been on trips tougher than that when he was just thirteen.

And...

You have asked a great deal from him.

He hasn't required much from you, aside from behaving reasonably and a quick tour.

Truth be known, you want to see Seven Falls again also.

Just in case.... Well, in case you maybe...perhaps...decide to leave. You probably won't, but making the trip with Obi-Wan won't be a hardship.

You nod slowly. "All right." You look up at the sky. "We can still make it to the plateau by sunset tonight if we go soon."

His smile is your reward as he sweeps you up into a hug and swings you around once. Setting you down, eyes warm with happiness, Obi-Wan kisses your forehead. "Good. Let's get going."

~*~

TBC