Anywhere But Here
Title: Anywhere But Here
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Siri Tachi
Summary: Obi-Wan and Siri are separated from their Masters while on a mission. Unfortunately for them, Siri starts a little earlier than the scheduled lessons of the Jedi Temple. And Obi-Wan gets rather uncomfortable, and they both learn about life.
Note: Written in 2009. Archived from FFN. Inspired by a quote from starfmlover who said, "Obi-Wan is terribly squeamish of all things female."
-
"I can't believe you got lost." Siri announced, pushing her shoulder-length hair behind the low collar of her tunic. The gold gleamed weakly in the sunlight.
Obi-Wan bristled. What was it about Siri that she always had to find a way to aggravate him so? It was always his fault, and it seemed she hadn't changed much since their shared mission to Kegan. "You were the one who followed," He shot back. They were still panting slightly. Jedi were fit, but a long chase through the convoluted building-mazes of Ctuchik was enough to leave them both winded.
"You're the one who suggested we follow Markesh." Siri snapped. She folded her arms across the chest as she leaned against the wall of the alcove where they hid. "I told you we should have just reported back to our Masters. And now, we don't know where we are in this blasted maze, and I don't have my lightsaber."
She said it as if the last was the most important. Which, when Obi-Wan thought of it, it was. She left the most important part unsaid, of course. That Markesh had her lightsaber.
Of course, Markesh would probably cut an appendage off. Except he was mildly Force-sensitive, or so it felt. Not enough to ever be a Jedi, of course. But enough to wield a lightsaber?
That was a question Obi-Wan really didn't want answered. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber. Their alcove was narrow and cramped, but it was their only hope against the large group of men scouring the maze. If they were found.
He hoped they weren't. His grip on his lightsaber was sweaty, while his heart pounded in his chest, and he was sure the sound of their breathing and arguments would give them away.
"Look, if we're loud, they'll hear us." He told her.
"If they come, we could fight our way out through them," Siri countered.
"Siri, how are your classes with Master Indik?" Obi-Wan asked, somewhat sweetly, knowing the answer. Master Indik taught unarmed combat classes to Jedi, and he knew that it was Siri's particular weakness.
Siri narrowed her vivid blue eyes. She said nothing.
Perhaps Master Gallia was good for her, after all.
"What do you suggest?" She finally asked, in a calmer tone, after taking a few deep breaths. Obi-Wan did the same, mind furiously racing to come up with a plan. He was the older Padawan here, with more experience. If he couldn't even think of anything…
"Can you contact our Masters on the comlink?" He finally asked.
Siri pulled out her comlink. "You realise they may have traced our frequency?" She asked, a little sardonically. But softly, at least. "Are you sure it's safe?"
Obi-Wan frowned. Had they any other option? He tried weighing the choices in his mind. "Can you scramble the frequency a little? If not, just keep it short. One weak signal."
Siri shrugged. "I can try. Or we can trade."
Obi-Wan tossed her the hilt of his lightsaber, pressing himself against the durasteel walls, so she could move in front, and pulled out his comlink.
-
No response. Perhaps their Masters were already at the summit. Obi-Wan tried not to groan. They were probably on their own.
"No response." He finally said. "They're probably occupied."
He waited for Siri's 'I told you so', but none came. Instead, a small moan came from Siri, and he noticed her teeth were gritted in pain. "Take…the lightsaber." She managed, thrusting his lightsaber hilt at her, and Obi-Wan took it, as Siri sank downwards to the ground.
"What happened? Are you alright? You're…bleeding." He said, a little panicked. He cast out with the limited range of his Jedi senses, but could not detect any sense of life moving closer to them. No one was near. How had Siri been injured?
Or perhaps a flechette dart had just moved deeper when she had shifted position and finally stopped staunching the wound it had itself caused. Was that it?
"Did you get hit?" He asked. He was about to pull his overtunic over his head and felt strangely self-conscious. He did it anyway, ripping part off it to make a temporary bandage. The blood was beginning to flow between Siri's thighs, staining her pants, and he hustled her further back into the alcove.
Oh. Wait. Blood…was beginning to flow between Siri's thighs.
Siri's thighs.
Force!
"I don't see what's so funny or strange about this," Siri gritted out, her eyes blazing. "You are going to pay for this in the training area, Obi-Wan." Her grip on his hand felt like she was going to crush his bones.
"Um…Siri. You are ten, aren't you?" Obi-Wan managed. He felt distinctly uncomfortable, and he felt his face was burning red enough that a thermal sensor would have picked him up. Why wasn't Master Gallia here when he needed her?
"Yes," Siri said impatiently. "Could you toss me your medkit?"
Obi-Wan covered his face with his hands. "Siri, it won't help-"
"I'm bleeding, and you don't think I should use a disinfectant?" Siri demanded.
"Siri-"
"Oh, give it here." She said, and a small exertion in the Force tugged the kit over to her. He heard sounds that meant she was beginning to open it. "Force, Obi-Wan, if you aren't going to help, at least don't get in the way!"
"Siri, have you ever had a lesson with the Healers in the Temple?" He finally asked. "Master Iana, for one."
"No." Siri said, perplexed. "You need to be at least thirteen to pick the healing elective modules."
Force, what had he done to end up this way? Obi-Wan silently promised the Force or whatever that hated him that he would never, ever pick a female Padawan, and never, ever annoy his Master again. Or skip classes. He would be the perfect Jedi…if he would never find himself having to speak of such things. Ever. Again.
"It's called…the menarche." He finally said, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks again. "Force, Siri…it's supposed to happen to um, all mammalian humanoids…"
"You go through this too?" Siri demanded, aghast, staring at Obi-Wan with entirely horrified sympathy.
"NO!" Obi-Wan cried out, before remembering that might not have been the best of ideas. This explanation was getting more complicated than he would like- than he was comfortable with. "Mammalian humanoid females, Siri."
"So what do we do?" She demanded. "I just sit here and let blood start pouring out of me? Are you sure you even paid attention during Master Iana's classes?" She had begun to close the medkit anyway, and Obi-Wan tossed her the bandages. He tried to prise his numb hand from her grasp, and successfully managed to do so.
"Just wad them and pad them on your pants." He finally said. He looked away, the lightsaber hilt in his free hand.
"I…might..need help." She said. Cramps didn't occur uniformly, Obi-Wan remembered. He sighed, and turned, and was horrified to find that Siri had already begun to pull down her pants.
"Force!" He gasped, covering his eyes.
"How…can you help…if you cover your…blasted eyes," Siri hissed.
"I'm not supposed to!" Obi-Wan almost roared, defensively. He was sure he'd be mentally scarred for life, and that this would be an offense on some planets. Stars, he wasn't supposed to…
"It's hurting too…much for me to do anything," Siri maintained, stubbornly. He heard breath hiss through her clenched teeth, and could imagine the look of utter frustration and aggravation her face must carry.
"Breathe." He urged.
"What do you think…" She muttered, sarcastically. "Force, Obi-Wan, it's just blood. It won't kill you."
Obi-Wan wondered how to explain to Siri the concept of appropriate behaviour. Apparently, it wasn't a very high priority for her, and taking a deep breath, he turned around, eyes still shut.
Finally, he had to open them, although he tried to look away as much as he could as he helped Siri strip off her utility belt, and finally her pants. He wadded part of the cloth of his overtunic, and carefully wiped the blood from between Siri's legs.
"Padawan?" Obi-Wan turned, bloodstained cloth falling from his hands, and he grabbed for his lightsaber hilt (he'd sheathed it, in the meanwhile), and somehow came up, lightsaber ignited, before he registered it was Qui-Gon. And that his hands were still bloody.
He groaned.
His Master's eyes were serious, and Obi-Wan belatedly realised how it must look- Siri with her pants gone, the bloodstained cloth, and the lack of his overtunic…
"It's not what it seems," He said hurriedly, feeling Adi Gallia's eyes on him, and his Master's eyes as well. "Siri…um…Siri has…" He quickly deactivated the lightsaber, wiping the hilt and his hands on his pants.
"Obi-Wan…" His Master said, slowly. "Is it…"
"No! No!" Obi-Wan yelped. "Nothing's happening! I mean, something is, but it's just Siri-"
"Siri's menarche, is that what you are saying?" Adi asked, calmly, and Obi-Wan felt he could not have gotten any redder and that he was absolutely grateful to her. He nodded emphatically, and Adi laughed.
"You do know that female Jedi carry the necessary cleaning cloths and a tampon in their medkit?"
Obi-Wan was certain at that moment, there was only one place he did not want to be. And that was here.
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Siri Tachi
Summary: Obi-Wan and Siri are separated from their Masters while on a mission. Unfortunately for them, Siri starts a little earlier than the scheduled lessons of the Jedi Temple. And Obi-Wan gets rather uncomfortable, and they both learn about life.
Note: Written in 2009. Archived from FFN. Inspired by a quote from starfmlover who said, "Obi-Wan is terribly squeamish of all things female."
-
"I can't believe you got lost." Siri announced, pushing her shoulder-length hair behind the low collar of her tunic. The gold gleamed weakly in the sunlight.
Obi-Wan bristled. What was it about Siri that she always had to find a way to aggravate him so? It was always his fault, and it seemed she hadn't changed much since their shared mission to Kegan. "You were the one who followed," He shot back. They were still panting slightly. Jedi were fit, but a long chase through the convoluted building-mazes of Ctuchik was enough to leave them both winded.
"You're the one who suggested we follow Markesh." Siri snapped. She folded her arms across the chest as she leaned against the wall of the alcove where they hid. "I told you we should have just reported back to our Masters. And now, we don't know where we are in this blasted maze, and I don't have my lightsaber."
She said it as if the last was the most important. Which, when Obi-Wan thought of it, it was. She left the most important part unsaid, of course. That Markesh had her lightsaber.
Of course, Markesh would probably cut an appendage off. Except he was mildly Force-sensitive, or so it felt. Not enough to ever be a Jedi, of course. But enough to wield a lightsaber?
That was a question Obi-Wan really didn't want answered. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber. Their alcove was narrow and cramped, but it was their only hope against the large group of men scouring the maze. If they were found.
He hoped they weren't. His grip on his lightsaber was sweaty, while his heart pounded in his chest, and he was sure the sound of their breathing and arguments would give them away.
"Look, if we're loud, they'll hear us." He told her.
"If they come, we could fight our way out through them," Siri countered.
"Siri, how are your classes with Master Indik?" Obi-Wan asked, somewhat sweetly, knowing the answer. Master Indik taught unarmed combat classes to Jedi, and he knew that it was Siri's particular weakness.
Siri narrowed her vivid blue eyes. She said nothing.
Perhaps Master Gallia was good for her, after all.
"What do you suggest?" She finally asked, in a calmer tone, after taking a few deep breaths. Obi-Wan did the same, mind furiously racing to come up with a plan. He was the older Padawan here, with more experience. If he couldn't even think of anything…
"Can you contact our Masters on the comlink?" He finally asked.
Siri pulled out her comlink. "You realise they may have traced our frequency?" She asked, a little sardonically. But softly, at least. "Are you sure it's safe?"
Obi-Wan frowned. Had they any other option? He tried weighing the choices in his mind. "Can you scramble the frequency a little? If not, just keep it short. One weak signal."
Siri shrugged. "I can try. Or we can trade."
Obi-Wan tossed her the hilt of his lightsaber, pressing himself against the durasteel walls, so she could move in front, and pulled out his comlink.
-
No response. Perhaps their Masters were already at the summit. Obi-Wan tried not to groan. They were probably on their own.
"No response." He finally said. "They're probably occupied."
He waited for Siri's 'I told you so', but none came. Instead, a small moan came from Siri, and he noticed her teeth were gritted in pain. "Take…the lightsaber." She managed, thrusting his lightsaber hilt at her, and Obi-Wan took it, as Siri sank downwards to the ground.
"What happened? Are you alright? You're…bleeding." He said, a little panicked. He cast out with the limited range of his Jedi senses, but could not detect any sense of life moving closer to them. No one was near. How had Siri been injured?
Or perhaps a flechette dart had just moved deeper when she had shifted position and finally stopped staunching the wound it had itself caused. Was that it?
"Did you get hit?" He asked. He was about to pull his overtunic over his head and felt strangely self-conscious. He did it anyway, ripping part off it to make a temporary bandage. The blood was beginning to flow between Siri's thighs, staining her pants, and he hustled her further back into the alcove.
Oh. Wait. Blood…was beginning to flow between Siri's thighs.
Siri's thighs.
Force!
"I don't see what's so funny or strange about this," Siri gritted out, her eyes blazing. "You are going to pay for this in the training area, Obi-Wan." Her grip on his hand felt like she was going to crush his bones.
"Um…Siri. You are ten, aren't you?" Obi-Wan managed. He felt distinctly uncomfortable, and he felt his face was burning red enough that a thermal sensor would have picked him up. Why wasn't Master Gallia here when he needed her?
"Yes," Siri said impatiently. "Could you toss me your medkit?"
Obi-Wan covered his face with his hands. "Siri, it won't help-"
"I'm bleeding, and you don't think I should use a disinfectant?" Siri demanded.
"Siri-"
"Oh, give it here." She said, and a small exertion in the Force tugged the kit over to her. He heard sounds that meant she was beginning to open it. "Force, Obi-Wan, if you aren't going to help, at least don't get in the way!"
"Siri, have you ever had a lesson with the Healers in the Temple?" He finally asked. "Master Iana, for one."
"No." Siri said, perplexed. "You need to be at least thirteen to pick the healing elective modules."
Force, what had he done to end up this way? Obi-Wan silently promised the Force or whatever that hated him that he would never, ever pick a female Padawan, and never, ever annoy his Master again. Or skip classes. He would be the perfect Jedi…if he would never find himself having to speak of such things. Ever. Again.
"It's called…the menarche." He finally said, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks again. "Force, Siri…it's supposed to happen to um, all mammalian humanoids…"
"You go through this too?" Siri demanded, aghast, staring at Obi-Wan with entirely horrified sympathy.
"NO!" Obi-Wan cried out, before remembering that might not have been the best of ideas. This explanation was getting more complicated than he would like- than he was comfortable with. "Mammalian humanoid females, Siri."
"So what do we do?" She demanded. "I just sit here and let blood start pouring out of me? Are you sure you even paid attention during Master Iana's classes?" She had begun to close the medkit anyway, and Obi-Wan tossed her the bandages. He tried to prise his numb hand from her grasp, and successfully managed to do so.
"Just wad them and pad them on your pants." He finally said. He looked away, the lightsaber hilt in his free hand.
"I…might..need help." She said. Cramps didn't occur uniformly, Obi-Wan remembered. He sighed, and turned, and was horrified to find that Siri had already begun to pull down her pants.
"Force!" He gasped, covering his eyes.
"How…can you help…if you cover your…blasted eyes," Siri hissed.
"I'm not supposed to!" Obi-Wan almost roared, defensively. He was sure he'd be mentally scarred for life, and that this would be an offense on some planets. Stars, he wasn't supposed to…
"It's hurting too…much for me to do anything," Siri maintained, stubbornly. He heard breath hiss through her clenched teeth, and could imagine the look of utter frustration and aggravation her face must carry.
"Breathe." He urged.
"What do you think…" She muttered, sarcastically. "Force, Obi-Wan, it's just blood. It won't kill you."
Obi-Wan wondered how to explain to Siri the concept of appropriate behaviour. Apparently, it wasn't a very high priority for her, and taking a deep breath, he turned around, eyes still shut.
Finally, he had to open them, although he tried to look away as much as he could as he helped Siri strip off her utility belt, and finally her pants. He wadded part of the cloth of his overtunic, and carefully wiped the blood from between Siri's legs.
"Padawan?" Obi-Wan turned, bloodstained cloth falling from his hands, and he grabbed for his lightsaber hilt (he'd sheathed it, in the meanwhile), and somehow came up, lightsaber ignited, before he registered it was Qui-Gon. And that his hands were still bloody.
He groaned.
His Master's eyes were serious, and Obi-Wan belatedly realised how it must look- Siri with her pants gone, the bloodstained cloth, and the lack of his overtunic…
"It's not what it seems," He said hurriedly, feeling Adi Gallia's eyes on him, and his Master's eyes as well. "Siri…um…Siri has…" He quickly deactivated the lightsaber, wiping the hilt and his hands on his pants.
"Obi-Wan…" His Master said, slowly. "Is it…"
"No! No!" Obi-Wan yelped. "Nothing's happening! I mean, something is, but it's just Siri-"
"Siri's menarche, is that what you are saying?" Adi asked, calmly, and Obi-Wan felt he could not have gotten any redder and that he was absolutely grateful to her. He nodded emphatically, and Adi laughed.
"You do know that female Jedi carry the necessary cleaning cloths and a tampon in their medkit?"
Obi-Wan was certain at that moment, there was only one place he did not want to be. And that was here.