Encounters

Sequel to Embers

****************

It is another diplomatic reception. The room is crowded with those who are in the know, those who think they are in the know, and those who simply ride the coat tails of the other two fractions. The air is filled with the chatter of diplomats playing their schemes, their games and their intrigue. Black and white, jewel tones and pastels.the lifeless stone fixtures are enlivened by the adornments of the crowd. The low lights of the large ballroom help to add a dreamy, surreal quality to the environment.

"Ms. Pajah."

You are startled out of your daze by the voice of your employer. You shake your head a little and turn to smile at the man. He is dressed in his finest garb, the black coat and insignia shows his position as Minister to the Interior. You have not been in your current position for long, but you have come to like your employer for his congenial and formal demeanor. "Yes, sir?"

"Your services are not required for the remainder of the evening, but you are free to remain and enjoy the fine wares and the.." He turns to look at the dance floor that is filled to the brink with dancers, "Entertainment."

You lift the wineglass that you hold to your lips and smile into the rim. "Thank you, sir.I will remain for a short while."

The minister bows his head formally. The light glints off of the silver hair there and makes him seem as if he is surrounded by a metallic halo, and as he lifts his head, you see that his blue eyes shine.

"Your first meeting is at midmorning, sir, and the papers are prepared," you add, after taking a sip of the wine. He stares at you for a moment and you continue, "The Corellian ambassador, sir."

"Ah, yes," he smiles, " I had forgotten.thank you. I must be going, Cosette.enjoy yourself for the evening and I shall see you in the morning."

"Thank you, sir."

You lean back into the smooth embrace of the wall behind you as the Minister makes his way through the crowd. You can feel the fond smile on your face even as you seek to hide it with the goblet. Although you dislike the ceremonies, pomp and balls that come with your job, you are thankful that you received the position at all. Your ability to serve your family through marriage was removed by the situations of the last two years. To be a Myr sacrifice is an honor, it elevates you in the eyes of the hierarchy of the priesthood, but it nullifies your ability to be matched in marriage. You have been regulated to the few precious women that are celebrated for their service to Myr, but disgraced by it as well. To have received this position as Assistant to the Minister of the Interior was simply the best luck that you could have ever had.

You drink from the goblet again and allow your eyes to skim over the players on the dance floor before you. Several women flit by on the floor, twirling and spinning in the arms of men.their silken dresses making sweeping noises as they move. Your own makes the soft sound of rustled fabric as you turn to place your glass on the table near you. You are able to leave, retire to your room here and read. And, very soon, you will be there.

Your eyes travel to the far side of the wide space, past the dancers, to gaze at the various diplomats and representatives gathered near the large, overwhelming hearth. Clones, they are. Every one of them appears like the next, clad in black, their various insignia displayed proudly for all to see. Even the foreign ambassadors have been outfitted in that manner.

Several of the chairs are occupied, the men sitting there with their legs crossed and goblets of light brew in their hands. Several others stand at the hearth, their shiny shoes reflecting into the polished stone at the fireplace's base. Still a few more hang back, their bodies outlining the perimeter of the area. This is where most of the treaties, the plans, the.action.will take place - over a glass of brew and in the atmosphere of camaraderie.

You shift as a couple swings too far on the dance floor and nearly grazes you. Moving along the wall, you continue your observation of those around you. You have yet to encounter or even observe the ambassador from Coruscant. You have seen the men sent from Corellia, Montha Prime and Yordina VII, but not Coruscant.and it is that one ambassador for whom you look.

Turning, you move around the large bouquet of flowers on a pedestal and edge a little closer to the hearth. If you do not find the man, it will not matter. But you like to be prepared for the meetings, to know with whom you deal.

You squint your eyes as you see a man that you had not seen previously. His clothes are slightly different from the others surrounding him at the hearth. This might be the elusive Coruscant ambassador you think as you smile and he looks very familiar.

"Drink, madam?"

You turn, slightly startled, to encounter a man holding out a tray littered with filled goblets.

"No.no thank you," you smile, holding up a hand to deny the offering.

"As you wish," he states and moves back through the room, engaging people as he travels.

You shake your head and turn back to search the hearth again. You will look at this ambassador once more before leaving the celebration..

Gods

No

It can't be.the Gods would not hate you that much.

You shut your eyes and blink them back open, hoping to change the sight that you see. But it does not help. You find your breath forced from your chest and a warmth spreading over your skin.enflaming it.

Qui-Gon Jinn.

The man stands not twelve feet from you, his head turned in silhouette. Long brown hair glancing at broad shoulders, his black clothing hugging his form- accentuating slim hips, long legs encased in soft material..making the man a sight to behold. His proud features are mutable, moving as he speaks with the man that he is engaging; his hand is wrapped around a goblet. There is more gray in his hair, more color to his skin, but it is still the same man. The same man.

Although unbidden, memories encroach on your mind. Sweat, heat.the poignant smell of acid ash, the glow of a late summer fire.brown hair falling around you.the feel of strong muscle bunched under your hands.your thighs slipping against skin wet with sweat.tight moans in the shell of your ear.

You grip the table in front of you with a vice-like hold. Your knees have gone weak, wobbling under the force of the images flying through your mind. You have not thought of him in months.not out of anger, but out of necessity. Memories such as that, with a man such as him.they do not fit into your life.

He sips at the cup that he holds, his eyes sweeping over the room. The man he has been talking with turns as well, facing the dance floor. You lower your head and look about for the door - it is high time that you are leaving. You see the portal across the room, and begin to move toward it, keeping your eyes averted. You cannot afford to have these memories.and cannot afford to meet him.

Too late.

His eyes are upon you, gazing at you with quiet study. But there is no recognition in them.their blue is clear and warm, but not ignited with familiarity. Maybe he does not remember you. Maybe he does not recognize you. A sense of both relief and worry courses through you at the thought.

You hold his eyes for a moment before the man that he stands next to re-engages him in conversation and his eyes return to his companion.

He does not remember.

You sigh and move toward the far door. Your room, your sanctuary seems like the best idea at the moment. Somewhere to hide.

He is here.and he does not remember you.

The morning brings a renewal of intent as well as a renewal of the day. You move about readying the room for its purpose, placing water and writing utensils at the seating places on the table. The outline of the trade treaty sits at ready in front of the Minister's chair. All is done. The heavy wood, the oppressive feel of the surrounding environment has never bothered you before this moment, but today it feels alien, and dark. You move through the room like a droid, mechanically and without conscious thought. A small amount of research has given the answer for which you search: Qui-Gon is indeed the ambassador from Coruscant.

A single turn within the confines of the office assures you of this fact. You do not feel welcomed, but you will remain.after all this is your duty, your profession. History need not affect it. The meeting, you are sure, will proceed without a hitch and the situation.your situation..need not enter into this.

Your skin feels tight today, stretched across your facial features in the memory of a smile. A smile that you do not wish to share or show. You sit down hard in one of the chairs surrounding the large table. This is so awkward for you, so strange.seeing him again.the one man that changed your life so incredibly.so suddenly. You will always remember that night. But, it is obvious that he does not.

Your night had not gone well. All night you had lain awake, the covers tucked tight around you..and you were both cold from sadness of his forgetting you, and hot from the memory of your tryst with him. These last two years, you had always thought that the worst thing that could happen was to see him again. That it would take you back to Now you realize that there was even a worse scenario.his forgetting about you.

With a vicious shake of your head, you move to the door to the outer office.

As you exit the room, however, you bump into the towering presence of the very man that tormented your night and whose blue eyes ignited your dreams.

He reaches out with a long arm and gentle hand to steady you. "I was wondering where you were, Cosette," he says. That voice.Gods.it is the same. And his smell.that musky, male smell that permeates your dreams.it is there.

You are taken back suddenly, both by his presence and by his manner with you. Your breath rushes out of you again. Qui-Gon's arm tightens perceptibly where it holds your elbow, and you are grounded.strangely and completely. "Qui-Gon?"

He looks down at you, his head tilting forward on that oh so strong neck. His beard is still close cropped; his skin is still that molten glowing gold. And his eyes, so deep and blue as they stare at you with remembrance, with familiarity, with fire, that you feel it in the pit of your being. One eyebrow raises and remains elevated, "So.you have not forgotten me?" There is a tinge of something to the inflection of his voice, almost like the beginning of a chuckle.

You step back from him, nodding. "No, I have not forgotten you, Qui-Gon." You feel disembodied, loosened from yourself.afloat.like everything is not attached to reality. Slowly you turn and move away from him, moving toward the desk in the corner of the room. And only one thought plows through your mind: He remembers you.

"Of course I remember you, Cosette.a night like that one is not easily forgotten. Not only the activities of the night, but also the company." his voice is low as you remember and the slight accent is still there. You can hear him turn on the floor to watch your progress. As you reach the corner of the desk, you turn suddenly on your heel to look at him.

"Jedi do read minds," you simply state.

"I told you they did, little one," he tucks his hands into his cloak. His arms appear so large that they appear like a shelf across his chest. "Though it is more of a sensing of purpose, emotion, then actual word patterns within another." he stops and looks at you. "You are uneasy in my presence."

You lift your eyes from gazing at the smooth surface of the desk. He is soo tall, and it is at once reassuring and intimidating. In reality what makes you uneasy about this Jedi, is that it feels like he has never left. It had only been one night with him, but it feels like you have known him forever. "Yes," you say, holding his gaze momentarily.

The door behind the Jedi opens to admit your employer who walks stiffly into the room. Qui-Gon turns and nods to the Minister as the man crosses the floor. Up until now

The afternoon sun shines down with a kindness that you enjoy.its rays dust your skin and duel with the somewhat cool breeze that rushes over you. The loose pants that you wear whip out under the force of the wind, and your shirt presses back into your skin making you shiver as the material's cool touch caresses your stomach. Overall it is a lovely day, beautiful, languid and restful. Around you, the birds sing high overhead, obviously happy in their choice of nesting place, the leaves rustle and clouds float by in their carefree way.

Your hands support your weight as you lean against the low stone wall. The strength of the wall is punctured in various areas by moss, grass and any plant life that has taken hold and remained. Remnants of its strength lie on the ground under it, mere shards and splinters of stone. You muse quietly, as your hair whips about your face. Closing your eyes, you are separated from the sun's rays, but not its warmth. Replacing the sharp colors of the day is the overwhelming memory of the morning after your voluntary downfall.the muted landscape outside the wall of glass.the sound of Qui-Gon meditating.the coolness of the air against your legs..and the profound sound of your feet dragging across the floor.

"Hello."

Your eyes spring open and you stare at Qui-Gon. He is not more than two feet from you, his body partly bent forward to enter into your space. It is not an unwelcome presence, but very sudden. You inhale and shake your head. "How did you."

"One of the many traits of a Jedi that I was unable to show you the last time we met, Cosette." Qui-Gon's hair blows as well, curling around his face like a halo in love with its owner. He has lost his cloak; he stands in front of you in his tunics and leggings looking larger and more real than life. Before you can continue your appreciation of him, he sighs, looking around. "This is not what I had in mind, little one."

You follow his gaze to the nearby water garden where several children play. Giggles and splashes are heard quite loudly and you smile at the sight you see. "They are simply children, Qui-Gon."

"And I wish to be alone with you, Cosette, completely," he answers, turning his head back to look at you again. His eyes are oh so deep and soulful. "Is there nowhere else we can go? For privacy?"

"Within the confines of the compound here, no. But there is the surrounding countryside."

He smiles widely. "That will do." The way that his lips are hidden by his mustache and are red with the lifeblood that flows within makes you wish to worship them. He reaches for your hand, where it still lies against the wall. Its sudden appearance in contact with your skin is a sharp contrast to the lifeless, cold presence of the stone. He turns it over in his palm and closes his fingers in a semi-cup, encasing your palm. "Are there stables near here?"

You find yourself astride one of the truly largest horses you have ever seen. Its might, its brawn.its sheer energy is nestled between your legs. You can feel its warmth through your clothes, and revel in it. Your hands are gripping the mane, tightly, but not so tightly that the coarse hairs can not shift through your fingers if need be. The air around you is filled with the aroma of horse on a midsummer wind, tickling your nose with its natural flavor.

The thunder of the horse's hooves pound the ground like a unrelenting rain; sounds of snorts and breaths and rushing wind.like a forgotten dream.tear past you. You have never ridden a horse like this.free, and wild and oh so frantically. Your hips roll under you, throwing you like a branch on the tide. You feel like you could fly off of this magnificent animal, but there is a pair of strong arms framing you. And a hard body behind you. And a pair of corded, tight thighs on either side of you. You are surrounded by Qui-Gon Jinn and are reveling in it.

Your head barely reaches over his shoulder, and if you turned your head, your face, lips, would be nuzzled in the side of curve of his throat. You want to do that.but to do so would be to miss the pure poetry that you see around you.the horse, the man, and the scenery. You do turn your head to look up at Qui-Gon once, only to see that your hair is wrapped against his neck from the force of the wind.gold and ebony mixing and existing as one. His beard brushes occasionally at the side of your brow as he moves with the horse's gait as well. His body and yours move in unison, rolling together as your travel the distance in companionable silence.

The reins pull tight as Qui-Gon slows the animal to a fast canter. The horse appears none to happy with the turn of events, but obeys the Master without thought.like so many others do, you think. The arms on either side of you pull back and release and his hand lands on your thigh, warm.no.hot in the afternoon air. "Where to, little one?" He says loudly, tilting his head down to place his mouth near your ear.

"There is a stream nearby.a heated one.minerals." you call back, hopefully loud enough to be heard. As you swing your head around and back to see if you were heard, you see his eyes smiling down at you. His eyes light up playfully, but his lips remain loose and unsmiling. You release one of your hands from the mane to touch at the back of his hand while you laugh: "The atmosphere is always warm there..no one swims.it just wards off the chill so that persons might stay there even when it gets cool.."

He nods, still gazing at you with a glint in his eyes. You shake your head minutely and lift your hand from his to point at a collection of trees visible before the next large rise. A natural formation of rock, dark gray and foreign in this green landscape, is seen partially surrounding the wood. "Its there.the spring that runs there is heavy with minerals.the trees are a special type that can only grow there."

Qui-Gon has already started the horse galloping again by the time you near the end of your sentence. Not that you mind; no, not in the least. This time you keep your head back against him, unable to keep the smile off your face. It is so much freedom that it almost hurts your soul to touch it. Riding has been forbidden to you since your sacrifice; without the accompaniment of a man, you are unable to own or use a horse. Closing your eyes, you sigh and school yourself into just feeling.just enjoying something that was once yours and now is again.this freedom of animal and man.

Your eyes remain closed until the horse slows, and with it, the movement of your body and Qui-Gon's. When it stops near the wood, you open your eyes completely. The light is dimmer here, at the edge of the tree line, but the greens of the leaves seem so bright that you have the momentary wish to close your eyes once again. The horse stops and stomps its foot for a moment, almost like it is throwing a tantrum. And then the warmth of the Qui-Gon leaves you as he slides to the side and to the ground.

"Lean over, Cosette; let me get you down," he states, as he lands and turns, lifting up his arms to encircle your waist. You frown and swing your leg over and then grasp at his shoulders. You expect to be swung, like your father or your brother used to do when they dismounted you from a horse, but instead, you find yourself gently pulled and cradled to his body. Your legs alight on the ground delicately, and his hands remain firmly around your waist. His height is such that your hands trail down from his shoulders to brush at his chest. You stand there momentarily; just staring at his body as it is shown to you at this angle.all tunic and muscle. He stands motionless as well. The only sound is the rustling of trees, the puffs of the horse and the overwhelming absence of the thunder and the wind.

Then he moves, sliding his arms around your body. Their corded strength covers your body from shoulder to hip; his hands, as large as you remember, move around until only his thumbs are hooked on your hips and the rest extend across your lower back. He tightly holds you, resting his chin on your crown and allowing your face to burrow in the material of his tunic. So warm.spicy.strong.and oh so memory evoking.

"Cosette."

The word is stated plainly and matter-of-factly. You try to pull away, but his arms remain tight.

He waits for a moment and then raises his hands, tracing up your side and arms until they grasp at the sides of your head. The palms cover your ears and his thumbs brush at the line of your jaw. Tilting your skull back on your neck, he kisses your brow and holds you there. His lips are so soft against his beard. So very soft and warm.

"I have thought about you as well," he intones softly, not moving more than a hair's breadth away from your skin. His breath rolls over you like a hot summer wind. "And what it would have been like under different circumstances."

You close your eyes, unable to nod, as you are still a prisoner in his grasp.

"And I would love to show you how it could have been, little one," he continues. Your hand raises to touch his as it holds your face and it traces his knuckles. You let him speak without interruption. "And how it would begin is by my speaking with you about something that pertains to it and the confines of your society."

You squint at him, not quite knowing the idea behind his words and he half-grins seeing your confusion.

"Don't worry, Cosette, it will all be clear soon. Let's find a place to sit."

Your head is released as he presses a final kiss to your brow and pulls away, trailing his hand down your arm to grasp your hand. Turning, he pulls you into the thicker part of the forest, toward the sound of babbling water over stones in the near distance. Behind you, the horse snorts. All you can feel is his hand in yours; all you can smell is the freshness of life around you; all you can see is the patchwork lace pattern of light on the ground as the light falls through the leaves.

Soon, you will know what it is this man is thinking. You only hope that it will be safe to your psyche to hear it.

There is a flat rock that juts out into a black, black pool. You know that the water is clear; it is the underlying lining stones that are of the deepest onyx. The bubbling water crests to the rims around it, leaving a crystalline white line against the rocks. Your feet slip a little as you walk out on the surface. A warm hand encases your elbow; its heat etches into your bones and its strength supports you to keep you from falling.

You both reach the edge of the rock and sit, your legs crossing atop the rock of heated by the day's warmth. The water is so heavy with minerals that you can almost feel them lifting you.making your legs float. The sounds are overpowered here; the rest of the nature's music is drown out by the happily bubbling and lapping pond. You still feel as though you are astride the horse.miss the sheer power that had been between your thighs.and you feel empty.

But not for long.

"Set?"

His voice is deep.deeper than the approaching night.deep enough that it sounds like it contains his very soul. You turn your head to watch the man that still holds you elbow in his hand.cradling it now.as if just for contact. The ride has mussed his hair.making it wild, untamed. Its chestnut color is lightened by gray.like silver.as if blessed by the moon. He is sitting.bulging thighs crossed over themselves, chest puffed as his spine is straight, shoulders broad and relaxed.

"Yes, Qui-Gon? You wanted to speak of something?"

He nods slowly; his face is a study of calm. You want to reach out and sweep back the hair that is creeping into his eyes from the side of his face.blown by the light breeze...but you refrain. He smiles gently and lifts your hand to kiss your palm. "I have thought of you these last two years.often.I have wondered how you are.how you have been getting on." He turns to face you fully and continues. " And what it would have been like under different circumstances."

You open your mouth and his thumb presses against your lips to stop any talking. His hand sweeps at your cheek and along your jaw line. His eyes center on your lips for a second. So rough and warm.his hand.

"I have tracked you.kept tabs on you. Followed your progress all this time.I wanted to make sure that our.time.had not adversely affected you or your direction in life."

"I had not had a direction in life the last time we met, Qui-Gon," you say as your lips brush over his thumb. Darkness is falling rapidly as the end of the day approaches.

"Yes," he states quietly. "And your time with me did not help you either."

"I have done well." you start.grabbing his wrist and pulling on it.

"As well as you could have with this stigma held over you, little one," he tilts your chin up, to look in your eyes. His flash azure in the twilight. "You did not tell me of the situation that our.liason.would put you."

You pull his hand down to your lap with a sigh. You still feel safe and warm with this man.even after the time that has elapsed.it is still there.that feeling.that aura of peace. "I am fine."

"You are unable to even take the rights of ownership of animals or land.you are dependent on others for your very living space." he sighs and searches your eyes for a moment. "You did not inform me of that."

"There was nothing that you could have done."

Standing, you turn from him, moving away from the water's edge. It is true.there was nothing that he could have done. Your not finishing your duty two years ago would have resulted in your probable death and disgrace to your family. And you have never been one to regret your actions. You will not start now.

"There was something.there is still something." he says enigmatically, still staring forward toward the water, toward the trees. "And it stems from what I told you, Cosette.I want to show you.to share what I thought it could have been like between us. I would not have entered into such a.mating, little one.without rectifying or at least accounting for the after effects."

You turn back to him and your feet scrap on the surface of the rock. The birds have quieted, settling for the night. The last of the hot orange rays of the sun peek through the upper regions of the trees.

He senses your attention and he lifts his head, allowing his long locks to sweep across his shoulders. "Come back here.please, Cosette.I cannot talk to you about matters when you are far away."

You move back across the surface of the rock. As you begin to sit, his arm sweeps out and crashes you to his lap. The thighs that you land across no rock could ever hope to match. Your back is supported by an iron arm and you are cradled to a chest that you have missed.if only in your dreams for the last two years. You tilt your head up, and feel the coarse hair of his beard brush along your forehead.

He sighs and you are moved by his chest.a gentle in and out. Your feet hang to the right of his body, crossed, and they lay against the warm surface of the rock. "Wha..?"

"You affected me, little one.more so than I expected you would have. You still do affect me."

"Affect?" You lift a hand to trace his tunic. You frown as you concentrate on the cool skin beneath the harsh, warm material.contrasts.so like the man.gentle, yet a warrior.

"It is our time together that I remember when I awake in the night. And.your eyes..and your.heart.and in that way, you affect me. I remember you with much fondness," he head tilts down to rub his cheek against you. "And it is because of that fondness.and my own conscience.that I cannot leave you in this situation."

You try to lean back and look at him, but he holds you and continues to stroke his chin across your head. The silence grows long until he takes a deep breath again. You take a deep breath as well, inhaling his scent as you do. "I can give you my protection, little one."

You start in his arms, this time pushing on his chest to lever you away. "Protection?"

"Under my name.such as you survived under your father's name when you were young..you could survive under mine. As my protectorate." He raises an eyebrow at the confused look on your face and smiles. "I can do that by your law, you know."

"But."

You know that your eyes are wide.that your lips are slack. Qui-Gon looks closely at you and then searches your eyes once again. "I have wanted you these last two years, Cosette, enough that I wish to have a relationship with you. An.involved one, little one. But I cannot remain here.and I cannot be conventional as your society accepts.but I can give you my name as a man wiih whom you are associated."

You sit there stunned. The existence of a man's name in association with yours will allow for the freedom that you have lacked as he says. "How?"

His eyes drift half shut as he stares at you. "Do I really need to show you, Cosette? I know your memory serves in this instance. I wish to have you as my consort. A person with whom I spend downtime. A woman to share my life.my bed.in any way possible."

You squint your eyes and tilt your head. "Again,..how? We know so little of each other."

"I care, Cosette. As I know you do.I can feel it within you almost like it is my own feelings. A deepening of those feelings between to compatable people is only a matter of time, little one. Do you deny that you have thought of me in that light? I will not deny that I have about you. I have thought about it a great deal actually. All I am suggesting at this point is the ability to come here and claim you as mine, and for you to claim me as yours. And to give your blasted society something to hold on to so that you are allowed some freedom." He goes silent for a short period of time. His eyes caress you; sweeping over your skin, over your cheeks and you feel your skin blossoming in a blush. "And you and I will get the best of all worlds, love. I wish to have this with you. I want it. What say you to it?"

Your find your mouth going dry.your eyes widening. He wishes? He wants? Freedom as well? Gods.what this man offers is indeed the best of all worlds. His presence in your life.his name with yours in the archives of society..allowing you freedom. It will give you some level of respect.consorts are the same as wives here.

There is a tiny space of time that elapses that you can neither account for, nor can you understand why he looks like a tall statue. Perfect and touched by the light of a new moon. "Do you need further convincing?" He whispers, his hand cupping your cheek. "Evidence to examine for your decision?"

His face looms over yours, taking away the chill of the night air in its nearness. But you are warmed.ignited by the hot caress of his lips as they slant over yours suddenly and completely.

You feel your bones become atomized, liquid. His mouth is the center of your existence. You remember suddenly, the way that his lips had been as hot as a burning ember in that room all that time ago. The brush of his beard, the intrusion of his tongue, the way..you sigh..the way that his chest rubbed against your aroused nipples, the way that his thighs tightened and flexed, pistoning his hips between your legs.

The past disappears in a blaze of the present. The memories of the last two years fly in the face of his present.and the dreams do not hold a candle to the reality of him. Flames of desire lick at your soul as his lips are so like they were before, but now.so much more.sure.of what they seek, of what they want. His hand presses against your skull, fingers widening to encompass the back of it. Qui-Gon's hand cradles and yet is forceful as he presses against your lips forcing your head back. Your lips are crushed, claimed, captured and pillaged. His lips open over yours, their warmth encompassing your oh so cold ones. And you had not realized how cold they were.

Qui-Gon sighs as he pulls away, and mutters unintelligible words against your lips. The light.oh so light.friction makes your toes curl and your hands tighten on his tunic. He nuzzles his chin side to side, brushing his beard against your chin and lips before he captures the now aroused flesh between his again. You can feel the pull, the need. His tongue gently travels the outside of your lips and then dips deeply into your eager mouth. Your tongue meets his, as if greeting a long absent friend and welcoming them into your house again.

So much..in so little time.he is everywhere.his spice surrounds you.his strength overpowers even the hardness of the rock under you. All you can hear are the harshness of his sighs and mutters and the bubbling of the pool next to you. His hair tickles your neck as suddenly he allows your head to fall back, removing his support from you. He draws back, withdrawing his tongue from your mouth. His hand tightens in your hair and pulls, making your neck and your back arch at his will.

"Little one..two years.and you still taste the same." he grits out, bending you back further. Your mind will not let your body fight him, and you bend like a newly born reed in a stiff wind. As you settle comfortably in the crook of his arm, his mouth descends to your now bared neck. They travel the lines, nibbling on the cords, lapping gently at the skin. You want to arch further into him, to feel his body arching with yours.

"Cosette." He mutters, his breath hot on your skin. It is then that you hear the pleading whimpers exiting your mouth, tearing at your throat. He feels like life itself, ebbing and flowing against you. As he pulls back, you dig your fingers into his back and neck.

"Don't stop, please.." you whisper.

"I'm not going to, love. It is the farthest thing from my mind." His voice is very deep and strong. His arm lowers to the ground as he turns you sideways and removes his arm quickly. He sits back on his hauches and smiles at you as he reaches to peel the tunic from his back. You watch as the material falls from his skin, cresting like a wave. It falls, and reveals skin that your body has craved forever it seems. His chest seems broader.if that is possible.and his shoulders are a mass of muscle and bone. The ribs are seen, but only as a memory.not prominantly.and you can see the jutting hipbones, holding up his leggings. Slim and wonderful, he is body is perfect and is shining in the beams from the moon.

"Lift up your head," he says gently as he kneels next to you. His tunic is balled up and is placed, with care, under your head and neck. You can feel the rough material against your tender skin of your neck and shoulders. He sits back once that is done and stares at you.

"You are more beautiful then I have remembered, Cosette..." his hand falls to your neck and trails down your flesh to where your skin meets your shirt. Its silk material is cool against your nakedness beneath, but you wish for his warmth instead. You shake your head to deny what he says, but he continues as if you had not made the movement. "I have such vivid dreams about you, little one. I thought at first it was the drug residual in me.but now I realize it was just you."

His rough finger traces into the cleft between your breasts on top of the shirt. The material moves with him, as if drawn by magnetism. Your nipples rise and rub against the liquid of the cool silk. He flattens his hand and runs his palm over the raised flesh.

"Gods." his hand traces down to the two buttons that hold the piece of fabric together. "I want to see you."

You arch your neck as the voice rubs you like no skin can. You reach down, and pull his hand down to the buttons. "Please.."

His fingers close on your buttons, around your hand, around your own fingers that seem so small next to his. He works both yours and his fingers to flip open the buttons. The silk falls away, to rasp against the stone beneath you. And you are laid bare for his eyes and hands. You expect your hand to be released and his to claim you. But he keeps your hand in his.

You gasp as your own finger is led up your midline to your own neck. You can feel your nail like a blade against your skin, and you can feel his callused tip following behind it. You stare at his face, now a study of shadow above you. The heat is rolling off of the pool beside you, the steam is rising in the evening air. Like wisps of a dream.the moisture is gathering on the rock beside you, under you. On your skin.on his.

"Please." you say, your own finger making you hotter than you could have ever remembered.does your skin feel this soft.this slick always?

"I can show you so much more. Make you feel so much more.I couldn't before, little one." His hand leaves yours, and climbs to cover your nipples, his open palm just grazing your tip. How your body remembers him so well..

Your sigh makes his eyes squint. "Show me more?"

How can there be more to feel? He was everything that night.

"Oh love.much more to feel then you could ever imagine," His body stretch out on the hard rock along side of you and his mouth claims yours again, even as his breath rushes past you. As his tongue presses against your lips, and his hand curls over your nipple, tightening and pulling, you are assaulted with overwhelming images.

Sweat.drops clinging.dropping off of your erect nipple, a tongue, gently tracing the ridges. A mouth closing over your finger and heat.so much heat.rubbing.pulling. You shift on the stone, moving your body, ungulating against his hand. A hand lifting your thigh alongside his flank, his fingers running down the length of the leg to brush intimately.gathered dew.long blunt finger replaced by a thick cock.but above it.caring.gentleness.

"That's only part of it." he whispers against your lips. With a sigh, he moves his body against yours. You feel his cock against you, hot and moist.hard. Images of your lips open, your back arched, your hands grasping at material.at shoulders..at anything.your eyes clouded, half open and half mast with desire. And your voice calling his name. "That," he said, "that is what I want to see.want to hear.want to feel, little one."

You gasp and sigh, moving your hips. Those images...Gods...all of them. Every single one.heat.hot.sweating..aching. His leg crosses yours, slipping in between yours. His boot is cool and clammy against the silk.slick. His thigh is so strong and intrusive. So..there. His mouth descends on your neck as he purrs heavily. Your skin vibrates under his lips. Your whole soul vibrates under him. His arms frame you as he fully rises to cover you. His chest and arms tighten, making his body ripple.

He moves down, his mouth as moist as the surrounding air.and warm like the moisture that rolls off of the pool. Your nipple is captured and taken fully.your back comes completely off the surface of the rock. His hand comes up and captures the side of your breast, opened palmed and just barely touching. His beard rasps at the skin; his mouth sucks and pulls. His teeth..you gasp..nibble.

You shift your legs and allow his body to sink between them. His clothed erection rubs forcefully against you. His nose muzzles the skin of your breast. Your calves wrap around his buttocks, allowing him to come home..welcoming him back to the place where he belongs. He grunts as you finish shifting and his body comes to a rest.

"Yes." He moans against your flesh. "Home."

Your arms come up over him, and thrust into the air. Stretching, reaching.almost praying for further contact. He is everywhere.and you want what you had with him..and so much more. So much more that he promises to show. As his hand falls to your pants and tangle in the material to pull it apart. To spread the material.to allow his entrance. His blunt finger traces at the bottom of your abdomen.

"I want you." He whispers as his face disappears from your vision, and you are left with only the memory of his warm eyes and the tickle of his hair as he moves down your body.

Heaven..

His lips encounter the skin just above the waist of your pants. Your muscles contract as his warmth leads to cool intrusion as he moves away. The material is parted completely, and you can feel both his hands over you, skimming, running.and the harsh rock beneath you.cutting and scraping. For its entire smooth surface, it is still a hard rock. But his hands are the sun itself.

"Bothersome." he mutters, barely loud enough to be heard. Your eyes fly open as his pulling at your clothing suddenly ends in a loud rip. You can feel the pants you wear rend on a seam.revealing your body to Qui-Gon, the mist, and the moon. Fully. You lie naked for him.prone on a rock.your head cushioned by his tunic.your legs barely protected by your pants.

You lower your hands to curl into his locks, to pull at them. He murmurs quietly and moves further down your body to openly kiss at the top of your right thigh. Qui-Gon's hand curls around the outside of your thigh to pull it more closely to his eager mouth, as well as to cradle it. The span of his palm almost covers the entire half of your thigh. He pulls with his other hand on the remaining thigh to spread you. You start with memory. No one has done this to you since.

"No other man had ever touch you, little one.you are mine," you hear gritted out against you skin. His voice is neither forceful, nor harsh.he is stating a fact..calmly and strongly. You sigh and keep your hands buried in his hair. You feel his fingers separate your folds..you can feel the very texture.the very roughness of their tips. He opens his mouth.the rush of his heat washing over the very intimate part of you that only he has been given entrance to.that only he will have the right to. You arch as his lips close on the folds.on the nub hidden.

All goes silent. Except for nature.except for the now loud lapping of the water.the rustle of the trees.the snort of the horse. His tongue enters.like a small dagger.or a sweeping lancet.pointed and yet soft.harsh.yet smooth. Lapping.you gasp as you arch your back.probing..tasting. So moist.like the spring.this is..incredibl.

You nearly cry out and your back arches as his finger enters you. You can feel your wetness.evidence of your arousal for him that has been with you since the night previous as you stared across the room at him. It drips out of you.betraying you and yet celebrating at the same time. Was it his eyes in that semi-lit room? Was it his shoulders? His legs? The way his hair shone? Lips.beard.presence.his hands? You barely have the time to finish the thought as you feel his finger penetrate you to the third knuckle and his mouth smiling against your skin as you arch and whimper and cry his name.

It is not pain..it is pure, unadulterated, unabashed, unfiltered, pleasure. Yours and his.mixing in the air, swirling around you..

He sucks momentarily and pulls his mouth away, leaving only his hand inside of you. You move your feet as it stamping them.

His voice rumbles up over you, climbing like a vine.curling around your being. "I can feel how much you want me, Cosette." His finger moves slowly in you as if to punctuate his words. "With not only your body, but your mind.you want this.I see it in you." his finger sinks completely in again and draws out slowly. "Memories and dreams.mixed together.flowing." He pulls his finger out completely and trails it up your abdomen slowly. He rises up slowly, climbing you. Approaching. You lie, both paralyzed by the pleasure coursing through you, and the promise of him.

"I can make them all real," he whispers. His mouth and beard scant centimeters from you. Your arms loop over his shoulders, around his neck.they feel cool on his hot skin..dry against the moistness that has gathered from the drifting steam. "I can concentrate solely on you, Cosette..I could not last time.the drug precluded that."

You smile gently into his chin and beard as his hands run down the side of your thighs to pull you closer to him. "I don't know if I could survive that much attention from you, Jedi."

He rolls his hips against yours and you arch, feeling the length and hardness of him pressing against your entire abdomen. His mouth turns in a smile to match the one on your lips. "Better acclimate yourself to it, little one.you are agreeing to be my consort."

You stop breathing and look at the man. He stares back at you, his blue eyes soft in the light. "Think later, Set.just enjoy and feel now."

"But."

His finger rises to press against your lips. "Feel now."

You nod imperceptibly, but he understands. His finger traces down your lips to you chin and then the side of your throat. His other hand raises your thigh so that you naked wetness is pressed against him completely. "Qui-Gon." To you, his clothes are most definitely in the way.

He nods and pushed off the ground on either side of your head. His body levers away from you and straightens to his full height above you. Suddenly, you feel your hand grabbed and you are pulled to your feet in front of him. He catches you as you almost rocket past him due to the force of his pull. His leggings are bulging around his arousal; his chest is traced by sweat. His arm circles your waist and holds you to him, tightly, and his hand tilts your face up to his.

"If you want, little one, you can say no," a soft smile that makes your heart flip graces his lips. "I am in better control of facilities this time."

You trace his chest with a fingertip. "You would not like to.?"

"I would. Very much," he answers, shaking his head. "I just do not want you to be overwhelmed and do something that you do not wish."

Your arms tighten to bring you face to face with the gentle giant. Your legs rise off the ground to wrap around his upper legs and waist. "I wish it.very much.." you answer, pressing your mouth to his neck.

He chuckles warmly and cradles your head against his skin.pressing you there. Your body jars in his arms as he moves off the rock and into the surrounding moss and low grass. You are only interested in the sweet taste of his skin under you lips and tongue.not in nature. You are surprised when he stops by a large tree not more than fifteen or so meters from the rock. It, too, sits on the water's edge.proudly and majestically.its mighty arms reaching over the water itself.He sets you down in the grass.your feet touching the blades that are wet with steam and warm. His arms leave you almost with regret and he moves a short distance from you.

You raise your head to look at him. His hair is now lightly anointed with moisture and hangs heavily. His shoulders and chest have rivets of sweat and moisture on them.making them shine in the night moon. Qui-Gon's hands lower and he bends to remove his boots, unclasping them loudly. Within minutes, their embrace is removed and his feet are bare. His hands then rise to his leggings. You are mesmerized by the movement of his hands.by what he is revealing you.by the fact.the surreal fact.that he has returned. That he has returned for you.to you.

The leggings part and are lowered slowly over his muscular thighs and strong, strong calves. He is peeled like a ripe fruit.the package is simply removed to allow the ambrosia nectar of a perfect fruit to be enjoyed. You inhale and stand motionless as he straightens and you see his body.as it was created by the Gods.naked and.and.well.

Smooth skin.wonderful legs.proud, jutting cock, swelled heavily with desire.narrow hips.broad chest that you wish to feel against you.strong shoulders.

"Gods, love." he moans, and moves toward you. "Continue to project your desire like that and this will be a short evening."

You are swept back up into his arms, as his hand lands on the back of your skull to pull you in for a kiss. His body swings around and he releases you again as he sinks down to the ground in front of the tree. His legs extend out from him, pale against the dark of the surrounding soil and plant life. He holds out his hand to you.and implores: "Cosette?"

You gaze down at him through a veil of your hair as it ruffles in front of your face. You push it back and move to stand in front of him.

"Sit.please.astride me? It is more comfortable than that rock for you." he leans back and his hand strokes at his cock a couple of times. "Please.there will be time for other things.later."

The tone of his voice is both a plea and an order of sorts. You do not hesitate in obeying either call. Moving forward, your stride widens and you sink down onto his thighs. He picks up your hand and kisses the palm before placing it on his shoulder. Your feet point alongside his thighs as his hand captures your breast. He puts his head back against the bark of the tree as his eyes fall to half-mast. "We can take all the time you need."

With a grin, you rise up on your knees. You lift one hand to touch his cheek as you gaze at his eyes. "I've dreamed about you for two years, Qui-Gon Jinn, what makes you think I want to take more time.isn't two years long enough?"

His laugh turns to a groan as you circle his cock with your hand. It is your turn to plead. "Now? Please?" The ache in you has grown exponentially in the last few minutes.and you know by instinct as well as memory.that only his body can make yours complete.

He lowers his hand to circle his width as well and uses the other hand to pull you closer and curl under your body from behind, finding and separating your folds. Qui-Gon leads you to rise further and his other hand strokes his cock minimally and holds it steady.

"Ready, little one?"

You sigh and remove your hand from his cock and brace your hands on his shoulders. You relax your leg muscles and lower yourself.directly onto his eager, ready, swollen cock..with a loud sigh on your part and a moan on his.

Your legs are rubbery as you approach the horse. They feel watery, unable to hold your weight, and yet, they do deliver you to your destination. The steed still stands at ready, tied loosely to a tree. In the moonlight, its brown coat shines with a white glow. As you near the animal, a pair of large, warm, friendly hands loop about your waist and heave you upwards, holding you steady as your legs widen to sit astride the horse.

His hand trails down your leg to touch at your knee and then it is gone. With a heave, a heavy weight settles behind you. The thighs return around you, mirroring your stance. "Are you comfortable?" Qui-Gon's voice is like a coating syrup...heavy and comforting. His hand lands on your thigh almost possessively.

You nod sleepily. It is the middle of the night and your body knows it. "Yes.but I am tired."

He chuckles lowly as his hands take up the reins and pull gently. The horse immediately obeys the order and moves away, turning. It will be a long ride back to the compound.to your room.to the bed.

"Already, love?" You can hear the laughter in Qui-Gon's voice without having to turn and look at him. "The last two hours have not been fulfilling for you?"

"For sleep, Jedi," you laugh back, feeling freer, more alive then you have for the last two years.for your life. As the horse begins its slow climb up the hill, you settle back into the Jedi Master's arms. It feels so warm, so strong.so safe..his embrace is more characteristic than his voice, you decide. And it is something that you could get used to feeling.

"Yes."

It is a simple word, spoken quietly..and yet it holds everything. This is a man who will be in your life.if you choose it. You could deny this and continue on with your existence.you have been one of the lucky women.you have a method of supporting yourself that is deemed.acceptable by society. You could stay as you are. You could.

But to do so would be to nullify the feelings that are coursing through you. As you break the top of the hill, you see the surrounding area flooded with the light of the moon. Everything is silver.metallic.beautiful..it is like ribbons of the very heavens reaching down and wrapping around everything. Even the ground is metallic and beautiful.

It is this feeling of beauty that touches your heart.and opens it completely to the man sitting behind you. A stiff evening wind swells around you, blowing your hair and making you shiver. The heavy cloak of the man behind you wraps around you quickly and you are drawn back against a bare chest. His tunic is on you. A warm mouth covers your earlobe and you feel the rush of pleasure through your body.reaching all the way to your toes.

"You can say no, Cosette.it is not set in stone," the voice is low, as is the whisper of breath across the soft skin there on your lobe and shell of your ear.

Your hand wraps back around his neck. You feel so much more at ease with him. Maybe it was the way that your name broke on his lips while he made love to you; maybe it was the way that he kissed and touched your body with both gentleness and possessiveness; maybe it was the way that his body had both mated and protected you this evening- in any form.you feel almost at home here, in his arms. And to move out of his arms would be to leave home.

The horse is walking peacefully and slowly, but you do not mind. The steady side to side motion of the animal makes you feel lulled. With a sigh, you nestle backward into the bulk of his chest.

"I don't want to say no.but."

"You are unsure of life? You know I will not hurt you, Cosette.and I will be marked as much yours as you will be mine."

"Until."

"There is no untils, Set. It is a pact between you and I, a type of bond. I take those seriously." He reaches down to tilt your chin back, to rest you against his chest completely. "I know you are thinking that I will abandon you.I won't. I will not be here often, and you will be able to join me often."

"But you will be.joined with me," you sigh, feeling his thighs tighten and one of his arms wraps around you waist. The warmth is all encompassing.

A whispered laugh bubbles out of him as he rubs his bearded chin against you. "Yes.I will be."

Silence descends on the two of you as the horse, and you and the moon travel the respective paths destined for each. The aura of the air is one of fresh spring, and the turf that the horse's hooves turns up releases the smell of earth releasing its daily warmth. "How will this work?"

"I have no inkling of an idea, Cosette- this is a first for me as well." He grins into your ear with a whisper. "But I am sure that we can figure it out. I take it this is a yes."

You nod with complete exhaustion, but absolute happiness. Two years you have dreamed of this Jedi, of not only the sex that hangs on your memories of him, but of just the feeling of peace and acceptance that you feel from him. "It is a yes, Qui-Gon. Let's see where this path will take us."

He pulls you completely against his chest and sighs. You reach behind again and bury your hands in his hair. "Yes."

The word echoes in your respective minds. Like a tolling bell telling of an astounding new event, its ring sounds loudly. The shining of the environment around you, gilded with the beams of the moon does not seem as bright as it did before, now that you are swimming in the light of a new hope.a new beginning.

"Sleep, love."

You yawn again, nestling against his chest with a sigh. "But."

"When you awake.it will be dawn and we will have things which we will need to attend to.sleep."

You grin lightly, and breathing deeply, inhaling his warm, male scent and that of the horse's, you fall into a deep slumber. All you remember as you creep into dreams is the startling blue of Qui-Gon's eyes and his lips curled in a loving smile.

The sun is bright as it shines through the open window of the Elder's house. The light curtains that rim the portal blow inward from the force of the new morning breeze. You move close to Qui-Gon out of need for warmth then for anything things else.

Qui-Gon stands firm next to you, like a millennium tree, tall and majestic. His arms are crossed in front of his body, making his shoulders seem broader, stronger. His legs are braced far apart, almost even with his shoulder width. The brown of his leggings is dull in the light, but the beige of his tunic is bright and new. His stance is one that is adopted to intimidate.or to overwhelm.but you feel protected by it.

"Yes.that is the understanding, sir Elder."

You look up at Qui-Gon and see his mouth curved in a grimace of concentration. His voice is rumbling deadly low. This is a man that will not take no for an answer: his eyes are as tight as his mouth and his chin is set defiantly.

"You realize that this woman is fallen."

"I am the one that was instrumental in her fall," Qui-Gon answers, his deep voice echoing through the room. "I was the man that her innocence was offered to under you religious rites. I know her status."

You take a deep breath. You wish that you were able to speak here, but your discussed status precludes you from saying anything. Qui-Gon understands your silent plea and steps closer to you, letting his arm touch yours. Enveloped in calm and the heavy smell of spice, you relax back to allow the Jedi to handle the situation.

"You wish to ally your name with hers, even with this blight on her character?"

"I wish it." The answer is almost growled. "She is without blight in my eyes, sir.she is only so in the eyes of your society."

The Elder hangs his aged head with a sigh. His hand reaches out to grasp at the pen lying at the side of the paper. "I needed to insure that you understood the full measure of the act in which you are engaging. She will carry your name as your consort here, Master Jedi, but I had to be sure that her character was understood."

Qui-Gon nods imperceptibly with a grimace. "Note then, that I have understood all that this situation entails."

The Elder nods once, searching the Jedi's eyes for a moment. With a shaky hand, he wets the pen and writes a few scribbles on the page. "So be it then, her name is now allied with Jedi Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon bows slightly and reaches for your hand as it hangs at your side. As your hand is enveloped, you sigh. So warm.so cared for.you can feel the emotions in your bones. Your lips curl in a soft smile as the breeze brushes over your face again from the open window.

"And your consort she now is," Elder adds with a touch of disdain in his voice. "I need only your respective signatures to make this official."

Qui-Gon squeezes your hand and pulls you forward as he steps to the table. Proudly he leans over to retrieve the pen and sign his name. You follow suit, signing under his on the page. On the cream of the paper, the writing looks dark and bold. Final.

`It is.' You hear in your head. And a smile breaks out on your lips that not even your mind can contain. You don't think that you will ever stop smiling again. And, for the first time in a long time, you are actually looking forward to tomorrow.

Obi-Wan strolled across the main square in the midmorning sunlight. Their presence here was mere formality, but he knew his master had more urgent business to attend to.

"The day is yours to do what you wish. I'll see you in the morning, padawan."

He wandered aimlessly, gazing in the shop windows, smiling at the children who'd never seen a Jedi Knight before. Well, he wasn't a knight yet, but soon. Quickening his step, he turned the corner to another part of town.

The scream came from nowhere, piercing, desperate, continuing in sporadic bursts. Instinct took over as he dashed down the street and into a nearby alley. At one end were a group of young men encircling something, or someone. More screams cut through the air.

"What's going on here?" he yelled, slowly approaching the group, hand on the hilt of his saber.

"It's none of your affair, offworlder," one of them sneered. "Go about your business."

There was a scuffling sound behind them. "Step away," he said, his eyes slate gray with fierce intent. Three of the young men attacked, unskilled and untrained. He downed them quickly with a force wave, throwing them into the stone wall across from him. Turning back to the remaining men, he repeated, "Step away."

They looked at each other and bolted, running past him in a hurried rush, not even pausing to help their unconscious friends. Obi-Wan waited a moment, making sure they were gone then quickly went to the prone figure on the ground before him.

She couldn't have been any older than he was. Pale skin marred by angry bruises and streaked with blood, probably her own. Her clothing was in shreds and barely covered her battered body. Obi-Wan quickly removed his cloak and wrapped it around her. A pained groan escaped her bloody lips.

"It's all right. They're gone," he murmured, carefully checking for any serious injuries.

"Who are you?" Her voice was hoarse, raspy.

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi." Adjusting the heavy brown fabric, he lifted her gently. "We should get you a healer. Can you walk?"

"I-I think so..." came the whispered reply.

She leaned heavily on him, clutching the robe around her body with shaking hands. He carried her into a small clinic just on the edge of town and called for help. "Please, this woman has been injured."

A nurse hurried to his side and led him to a small room off the main entry. Obi-Wan lowered her gently onto the cushion while the nurse called the healer.

"We shouldn't be here."

Obi-Wan turned to the young woman and brushed a lock of hair away from her dark brown eyes. "It's fine. You'll be just fine."

"He won't help. They never do." Her voice was a bit stronger now.

"Who won't help?" he asked.

"Shaiko. The healer. He'll throw me out before he treats me."

"Why would he not treat you? I thought..."

A large man came in then, sweeping a gaze across the two of them. "I'm Healer Shaiko. Where is..." He stopped, his face turning from shock to rage. "Who brought her in here," he hissed.

Obi-Wan stepped forward. "I did."

"And who are you?" the man sneered in reply

Obi-Wan straightened his posture, doing his best imitation of his master. "I'm Ambassador Kenobi. I was walking in your square when I heard screaming. She was attacked and is injured. I thought you would help her."

"Not if her life depended on it."

She struggled to her feet, grasping onto the edge of the cot to keep from falling. "I don't want any trouble..."

"Then go." The healer shot one last withering look and stormed out.

Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around her. "Stay here. I'll get him back."

"No, please. Just help me leave this place. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't be."

"It's happened before," she stated flatly. "I've survived." She tried a shaky step and crumpled in a heap, wincing as pain shot through her body.

Obi-Wan lifted her into his arms again. "You can barely walk. I'll take you to the palace healers. They'll take care of you." He strode out of the clinic, hailed a transport and returned to the palace.

Once there, he took her to the palace healers but again was turned away. She didn't seem surprised and even apologized for inconveniencing them. Not knowing where else to turn, he took her to his own rooms and began treating her wounds.

"I'm sorry, Ambassador Kenobi. I suppose I should have told you."

He pressed a clean compress to her cheek, gently wiping away the blood. "Told me what?"

"That you're wasting your time. And compromising your position here," she answered, casting her gaze into her lap.

"How so?"

"By being seen with an Erosan. And by defending one."

"A pleasure worker?"

"Yes." She flinched a bit as he applied the cleaning salve. "We aren't thought of very highly, as you can see."

"You're a person, " he responded simply.

She smiled weakly. "Not here." At his startled look. "The fallen ones are non-persons. We don't exist anymore."

"That's ridiculous."

"From your point of view." She looked away. "Would that others could share it."

He wrung the water from the cleaning compress and began to tend to her neck. "The healer, Shaiko, he seemed to know you."

She chuckled then. "He should. He's my father."

Obi-Wan stopped, stunned. "Your father?"

"When I fell, he immediately disowned me."

"Fell?"

She met his gaze again. "When I... lost my innocence."

"But he's your father. Why would he..."

"It is our way." Her voice echoed her sadness.

The sat in silence while he cleaned and bandaged her wounds. Her clothing was beyond repair, so he gave her one of his uniforms to wear, along with his robe then left her to change.

When he returned, she was curled up in a large chair by one of the window, feigning sleep. He set the large tray he was carrying on the table beside her, took the opposite chair and waited. She slowly opened her eyes and smile shyly. He grinned in return.

"I brought us some lunch," he said, pouring her a steaming cup of tea. "I wasn't sure if you'd eaten, but I'm starving. I hope you don't mind."

"No," she answered quietly. "Not at all." Sipping her tea carefully, she said, "You are not like anyone I've ever met, Ambassador Kenobi."

"Why do you say that?" He asked, breaking off a large chunk of bread and set it before her with a bowl of soup. "And please call me Obi-Wan."

"I'm Jahan." She set her cup down and broke off a piece of bread. "Most of the men here would have either walked away or participated."

"Please tell me you're joking." When she looked away again, he swore softly. "How can they let this happen here?"

She shrugged. "It's acceptable. Better the males loose their urges on a fallen one, then on one still pure."

"But that's barbaric... Yes, I know." He sighed, then looked up sheepishly. "I don't mean to insult you. That is not my intent."

"It's all right, Obi-Wan. It's nice to know things are different elsewhere. Maybe someday..." She blinked and grinned widely then.. "In any case, we are allowing perfectly good soup grow cold."

Her smile was contagious and they spent the meal talking about his training, his missions, people he'd met. She listened attentively, making observations that proved both her intelligence and her quick wit. He found himself laughing with her, wiping tears away as he recounted an unusual incident from his past.

Sharing the small dessert, he asked, "I don't mean to be rude, but obviously you have more training than any um... pleasure worker I've met before."

She nodded. "I hadn't planned on this path, no." She patted his hand and smiles. "I thought I would be a healer, like my father. But we go where our Lifestream leads. To fight it is futile."

"You think you were meant for this? That this was why you exist? To ..." His voice was soft.

"When one door closes, another opens. All is as it should be."

He shook his head but said no more.

They spent the afternoon talking, Obi-Wan feeling very at ease with her. She told them of her education, her plans before of being a healer. Her voice held a bit of sadness as she talked about her family.

"I miss my sisters, my younger brother." She toyed with the end of the thin belt holding the tunic closed. "I would tell them stories of all the places we'd all go someday." She added with a giggle, "My brother wanted to be a Jedi Knight. I told him I didn't want him to because then I'd never see him again..." Her smile faded. "Well I suppose that was precognizance on my part."

"I know how hard that can be," he agreed. "I haven't seen my brother in years."

"Do you still have contact with him?"

"Yes," he answered smiling. "He sent me a vid on my last naming day."

"That's good. You must miss him very much." She turned and looked out the large window into the gardens. "I'm forbidden to contact my brother and sisters." She smiled weakly, letting her pain color her words. "It would be inappropriate for me to try to see them as they would be corrupted by my immoral ways..."

"Why do you live like this? Surely someone here..."

"This is the only other choice I had."

"But another place, another planet, you could start over."

"And how would I get there?" She asked quietly.

Obi-Wan stopped, then thought. "You could come with me. My master and I are leaving in 2 days;. you could come with us. I'm sure my Master would not mind and since there's nothing for you here..."

Her eyes lit then. "And I'm just another fallen, I'm sure the government wouldn't care if I 'disappeared.'" She grasped his hand then. "I'd be free..."

Obi-Wan nodded, her enthusiasm contagious. "Free. And I'm sure my master and I could help you get settled elsewhere. Surely something at the temple, or in the schools..."

"Goddess, Obi-Wan, I- I don't know what to say..." her eyes were wide with hope. At a loss for words, she pulled him into a swift kiss, her arms slowly wrapping around his neck. He slowly pulled her into his embrace then broke away quickly.

"Jahan, I'm so sorry..."

"No, Obi-Wan I was my fault, I should have never..."

They glanced at each other, taking in the rose tint to their faces and began to laugh. Obi-Wan took her hand in his again. "Come, let's see to the arrangements. My master is unavailable for the rest of the day but we can clear the rest through your people."

The chancellor was gone as was the deputy minister, so they'd have to wait until the following day to make contact. He'd left messages with them detailing his requests. Then for lack of anything useful to do, went walking with her in the open fields surrounding the palace. She told him about growing up here, sharing stories of running through these chasing small animals with her sisters. He laughed as she recounted in detail the time she snuck into the palace gardens chasing a lago and getting caught by the groundskeeper and sharing cakes and tea in the back flowerbeds.

"Did you catch the lago?" he teased, leading her into his suites again.

"No, but the groundskeeper swore he'd watch out for him." She went to the balcony of his rooms and watched the sunset. Obi-Wan joined her shortly, standing in companionable silence. She leaned against him, her cheek on his shoulder and sighed.

"Thank you Obi-Wan. It's been a very long time since I've spent an afternoon this pleasantly."

"You're very welcome Jahan," he answered, shyly putting an arm around her. "I quite enjoyed it myself."

She turned and looked up at him. "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

"May I kiss you? Please?"

Obi-Wan turned to face her, eyes dancing in the setting sun. She rose onto her toes and brushed his lips with hers softly, then leaned into him, kissing him with a bit more confidence when she felt him respond. His arms spanned her waist, drawing her closer to him, feeling the heat of her body beneath her borrowed tunics.

The kiss ended and she smiled up at him. "That was nice..."

"Very nice." He pulled her into his arms and held her close to him. "Why do you feel so right?"

"Me?" she repeated softly.

He grinned. "You, here, it feels so right, so real..." his voice softened then and he chuckled. "My master accuses me of not living in the moment, of thinking too far into the future. He'd be very proud of me now."

"Why is that," she teased.

"Because all I can think of is you right here with me now." He lowered his forehead to hers, his nose barely brushing his. "You should go," he said, not loosing her from his arms.

"Do you want me to?" she asked softly.

"No, I don't," he answered, "but if you stay, I'm not sure I'll let you go later."

"And if I don't wish to?" she said, brushing her fingertips across his lips. He shuddered lightly, meeting her gaze. "Let me stay tonight? I rarely get the chance to make a choice. If you'd let me, I'd like to stay."

He kissed her softly then, brushing his lips across her face, her eyelids and jaw. She stood motionless in the circle of his arms, her heart racing as he stirred feelings in her she hadn't felt before. Winding her arms around his neck, she ran her fingers through his hair, loosing the short pony tail.

"Obi-Wan..." she whispered, drawing the scent of him in, breathing his essence.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked softly, pulling away from her long enough to meet her gaze.

"No, please don't."

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the sleeping couch then lay beside her, stroking her cheek softly. "You don't have to do this."

"I want to," she said shyly. "I don't often get a choice, Obi-Wan, and I... I want you."

"Are you sure?"

"Very. I want to make love with you Obi-Wan. Here, now. No more words." She smiled then and reached for the clasp on his belt.

His hand shook as badly as hers were as he undid the belt holding her tunic top together. Tentative fingertips drew the soft crSme fabric away, baring her soft breasts. "You are so beautiful," he said, brushing his lips across one nipple then the other, teasing them into hard nubs. Running his hand across her body, he slowly slipped his fingers into her waistband.

She unclasped his belt and pushed it off of him, tugging slowly at the sash to free it. Sliding her hand under the soft material, she pushed the now-loose garment off his shoulders, revealing warm golden skin, well muscled from years of training and discipline. Her breath caught as he sucked on her breasts, and she drew him against her body, reveling in the feel of his warmth against her.

His head dipped lower then, tongue dipping into her navel, then tracing across her slim hips, wet kisses burning a trail of fire to her thighs as he drew the leggings downward, exposing her to his gaze.

"Obi-Wan..."

"Hush," he crooned, nipping the inside of her legs, elegant fingers drawing lines across her calves, clasping her ankles, then moving upward. She screamed his name as his tongue brushed across her wet heat.

She was spiraling upward, not quite sure what was happening to her. Goddess, she thought, I've had men before that were pleasant, but this...

He lapped her center and she thought she'd die, that her body would explode under the sensual pleasure he gave her. Helplessly, she began to move against his tongue.

Tasting her sweetness, moved back up her body, easing his hardness between her legs as he caught one nipple between his lips again. She clutched him to her breast, moving against the hard shaft that awaited entrance into her.

"Obi-Wan, please," she pleaded, her breath in ragged gasps.

Moving even slower, he entered her, holding the shreds of his restraint to keep from plunging into her. Claiming her lips once more, he began to move in slow, controlled strokes, feeling her move against him, drawing him deeper into her as she clung to him.

"Ah, Gods..." he moaned against her mouth, speeding his motions to match hers. Her soft cries were driving him mad and he let go the last of his discipline. With hands on her hips, he thrust forward madly, pouring himself into her with a shout as she shuddered in the throes of her own climax. They fell together in a tangle of arms and legs. He felt her lips brush his before they fell into a dreamless sleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You don't understand Jedi Kenobi," the chancellor explained. "She is fallen, impure. She cannot leave the planet. She forfeited that right when she forfeited her innocence."

"But she has no life here, no family," he insisted. "Surely one woman..."

"Can falsely claim injustice to the Republic for her lack of restraint." The chancellor shook his head. "She has no morals, how can we be sure letting her leave will not cause a diplomatic incident?"

"She doesn't want to cause an incident," Obi-Wan insisted. "She just wants her freedom."

"I'm sorry, Jedi Kenobi. I cannot allow it." Seeing the young man's determination, he added, "There is another way."

"Another way?"

"You can bind her to you. Make her your consort."

"My consort?" Obi-Wan blanched.

The chancellor sat back in his chair. "By our laws, she would then belong to you, become your responsibility. You could then take her with you."

"But I can't-- "

"Then she will remain here. And I will hear no more of it."

"I could take this to the senate. To the council." Obi-Wan warned.

"You could. But then our treaty with the Republic is an old one. They'd brush your claims aside, and make a fool of you."

"We'll see." So saying, Obi-Wan left the offices. ~~~~~~~~~~ "They said no." Her voice was flat.

He quickly shed his robe and saber and knelt in meditation posture. "He said I could bind you to me, make you my consort."

"No," she said firmly. "I won't let you do that for me. I care for you a great deal, Obi-Wan, but I won't ask you to do that for me."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached through the Force to his master. Finding him nearby, he stood quickly and turned to the door. "I'll not be long." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Qui-Gon leads you down the hall to his apprentice's quarters. He wants you to meet him, the one that is a son of his heart, if not of his body. A handsome young man turns the corner, spies you both and comes running over.

"Master," he says in cultured tones. "I need your help."

"Of course, my padawan," Qui-Gon answers. "There is a problem?"

"I met a woman..." he starts then pauses, sensing something.

A split-second later the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting. Obi-Wan turns, breathing 'no' and is now running around the corner to what you assume are his rooms.

You follow Qui-Gon to the room and see his apprentice cradling the body of a young woman. The scorch mark between her breasts betrays the intimacy of this moment. The now-extinguished saber falls to the hard floor. You clutch at Qui-Gon's hand, and he pulls you into his arms, still watching the scene unfold before you.

"Why?" he whispers to her. "Jahan, why?"

Jahan? You know the name, and search the young woman's face for recognition. She sees you and nods slightly with acknowledgement. Goddess, you think... "I know her," you breathe to no one in particular. Her voice again breaks the silence.

"I cannot let you sacrifice yourself for me, Obi-Wan. And I can't go back to my life as it was. Not now." A shaky hand brushes across his cheek before she winds her fingers around his braid. "Better to end it here, in your arms."

"We could have found a way..." he pleads.

"No," she says with certainty. "It's all right, Obi-Wan. It's over." She raises her head and brushed her lips across his. "I'll not forget the last day, nor you..." Drawing one last shaky breath, "Goodbye..." She smiles a moment longer, then is gone.

He calls her name again, clutching her body to his chest. Turning to face you with tear-streaked cheeks, he asks again, "Why?"

"Because," you answer softly, shaking softly in Qui-Gon's arms. "It was the only other option for women like her." You turn and look into Qui-Gon's eyes. "Like us." Your tears fall softly against the rough cloth of his robe. "At least now she's free."

Qui-Gon holds you as you weep for another one lost. Another of the fallen.