Here With Me: Chapter 4
I seriously can't wait to see your reactions to this one! Of course I hope you will like the new chapter, but I'm not entirely sure if I managed to get across Padmé's thoughts properly, and in a realistic way. Oh well, I tried and gave my best! Comments are very much appreciated, so please leave your opinion. :)
Previous chapters:
Prologue (Obi-Wan)
Chapter 1 (Obi-Wan)
Chapter 2 (Padmé)
Chapter 3 (Obi-Wan)
Title: Here With Me
Author: nida_yubari
Beta: khuu_khuu
Fandom: Star Wars
Genre:: Angst, Romance, AU
Pairing: Padmé/Obi-Wan
Rating: PG-13 (there might be a R-rated chapter later on)
Summary: This story is set between Episode III and Episode IV, starting at the ending of Ep III. Obi-Wan takes Padmé (yep she's alive) with him to his hiding place on Tatooine. Taking care of her turns out to be far more difficult than he had expected, and when they start to have "inappropriate feelings" for each other, things are getting even more complicated.
Feedback: Is very much appreciated! I like constructive criticism, but please be gentle because it's my very first Star Wars story. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Obi-Wan Kenobi or Padmé Amidala. (Too bad!) George Lucas does. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 4 -- Padmé
I wanted to stay like this forever, securely wrapped in his embrace, and with my arms tightly entwined around his waist in return. I was so happy he was back that I could have wept with relief. The time without him felt like an eternity. It had been so terribly desolate and lonely that I didn’t know how I had managed to not let it drive me into insanity.
In the afternoon of the day of his departure I had already started to feel depressed because I missed him so. I missed the sound of his voice and our conversations during dinner. I missed the feel of his sleeping body right next to mine. I missed the tiny smile that appeared on his face and the warm glint in his eyes when he was amused. I even missed our rare arguments. But my longing for his company was nothing compared to the nightmarish anxiety that welled up inside of me when the great storm came a few days later without a sign or word from Obi-Wan. My concern and my fear for him almost drove me insane as days and nights went by and he just did not return. I could hardly sleep at night. The bed felt horribly cold and too large without him. I lay awake for many hours on end, fearing for the worst. I tried to calm myself down by using his pillow instead of my own, breathing in the faint traces of his unique scent as I tried to fall asleep, but it didn’t help. Actually, it only made things worse. I wanted him here with me, but all I had was his pillow. And maybe, a mean little voice in my head pointed out, this pillow with his fading scent was all that would be left of him, because maybe, he would never come back. Maybe he was taken from me, like all the others. Anakin. Luke. Leia. My parents and siblings. Dormé. And now Obi-Wan. Gone.
As I lay there all alone in the darkness listening to the powerful storm raging across the wasteland and around our house, I cried for the first time in weeks. Until that very moment, I had not realized how attached I’d grown to him during those few months we had been living together. Obi-Wan’s unexpected extended absence made me see that I had not only gotten used to his company, but that I needed it. Spending my days hiding in isolation was easier to bear when there was a friend around with whom I shared my sad fate. A friend I could talk to, listen to, touch, look at and care for. And who cared for me in return. I needed it. I needed him. Sure, I was tough, but I just wasn’t qualified for living the life of a complete hermit.
I was so relieved when he suddenly entered the house that I temporarily forgot about my manners and jumped at him, hugging him so tightly that it was as if I feared that he would disappear any moment. He was taken aback a bit, but held me close nevertheless. I could tell how tired he was; he was actually leaning on me as we stood in one another’s embrace. I even heard a tiny sigh escape him as he rested the side of his face against the top of my head.
“Are you thirsty?” I asked him considerately after I had spent some silent moments savouring the happiness of being reunited. When I felt him nod, I reluctantly let go of him and helped him out of his brown cloak. The beige Jedi tunic he was wearing underneath was filthy, covered with sand, dust, large stains of sweat and even a few small smudges of dried blood. Alarmed, I put my hand on his arm.
“Are you badly hurt?” I wanted to know, looking at him inquiringly.
“No, just a few bruises and this cut on my forehead. It’s already healing,” he told me and went over to our small table. He sat down on a chair with a soft moan of utter exhaustion. Figuring that he must be hungry as well, I got not only a large glass of fresh water for him, but also a few dried fruits and some bread. He thanked me, greedily downed the water, took a bite of bread and ate all of the fruit. Then he stood up, excused himself to the shower and afterwards went straight to bed, muttering something about having to lie down for a few minutes. Even though the storm was still whistling and blowing around the house violently, making the window shutters and the door rattle and squeak, he was deep asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn’t even wake up when I carefully climbed over his body to lie down next to him, curling up in my snug nest between Obi-Wan and the wall.
It was so much better like this, I thought as we lay there together. So much better. Without him, I felt lost, numb and cold, almost as if I was detached from my own body, like a ghost or a shadow. But he was back now, and he made me feel better again. I needed his steadiness und his calm composure to hold on to, using him like an anchor that helped me to somehow keep my sanity. I needed his direct and close presence like the air I was breathing, because there was no other person for me to turn to. I had lost everybody who was close to my heart. I missed them all so much. Anakin the most, of course, and my twins. Though Luke and Leia weren’t dead like their father, they had also been brutally taken from me and it was so hard to know that I wouldn’t be able to raise them and see them grow up.
There were others who also meant a lot to me and who had left behind huge and aching holes of great loss in my heart. I missed Sabé, Captain Panaka and Jar Jar, for example, and Senator Bail Organa. Bail had always been a well trusted advisor for me, and our professional relationship through the senate had over the years blossomed to a deep friendship. He’d always been there for me, standing up for exactly the same goals and purposes I wanted to achieve. He was a good man. I was more than grateful that my little Leia was staying with him on Alderaan. I remembered a particular conversation I’d had with Bail in private, a few years ago. He’d vaguely disburdened his heart to me, telling me of his wife’s and his own wish to have a child, but there seemed to be some sort of fertility problem. It was wearing him down, I could tell even though he tried to hide it and we didn’t go deeper into the subject. I knew he was going to adore and cherish Leia. He was going be the most devoted foster father and raise her with much love. I would have been so happy and proud to do so myself, but it wasn’t meant to be. I had lost her.
I had lost them all. My husband, my children, my family and my friends. I’d never see them again. There was only Obi-Wan, and no one else. He was the only one who could save me from my loneliness and make me feel alive again, I concluded as I was lying next to him in silence, studying his face.
Even in his deep sleep Obi-Wan looked contemplative and not at all peaceful. The characteristic, prominent furrow between his brows had become deeper over the years, from his constant worries and concerns, and not even the relaxation of sleep could smooth it out. Obi-Wan had long lost the jaunty and light-hearted beauty of youth which had always been so typical for Anakin. There were some first streaks of white and light grey in his hair and beard, and a few fine wrinkles at his eyes. He was still a handsome man, though. It was only due to his calm, reserved manner and his modesty that his attractiveness was so subtle.
As I watched him so closely, my eyes caught a few persistent grains of sand that were still caught in his beard, despite the fact that Obi-Wan had taken a rather long shower. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and carefully wiped the fine sand away with my thumb. Strangely enough, once I started touching him, I couldn’t stop anymore, though I knew that it was rude to do so while he was asleep. I just needed to feel him. Unlike everybody else I loved, he wasn’t just a memory that would eventually fade. He was real, temptingly solid and wonderfully warm to my touch.
My discovering fingers drifted along his jaw very lightly. I didn’t want to rob him of his well-deserved sleep and was careful not to wake him up. The texture of his beard, which was always - even here in the deserted wasteland - cut into this impossibly accurate shape that complemented his face, was not as coarse as I’d expected. Though it felt unfamiliar, it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. I gently caressed him for a few moments, until I dared to slowly cross the corner of his mouth. I held my breath as the tip of my middle finger ghosted over his lower lip, exploring him, and feeling his slow, steady exhalations on my hand. There was a small injury where the tender skin had split from being overly exposed to the desiccative sun and hot air, but it was healing up already.
I sensed that he was about to wake up any moment, but I couldn’t get myself to withdraw my hand. As Obi-Wan lazily blinked his eyes open, I gently ran my fingertip along his dry lip for one last time and then continued to stroke his warm cheek and his ear in silence. He took an abrupt breath, perhaps because he wanted to protest, but I quickly lay my finger back on his mouth to prevent it.
“Shhh, it’s alright,” I whispered to him, staring at his lips which were now parted a bit . My words didn’t seem to ease him. I could feel how tense he was. As I looked up, right into his eyes that were clouded from his sleep and exhaustion, I saw that he was confused and also unsure, but not entirely disinclined. Holding his gaze with my own, I took my hand from his mouth and slipped it to the nape of his neck instead.
“It’s alright,” I repeated, to convince not only him but also myself. It’s alright. I could almost believe in it, but there still was an undeniable pang of conscience in me as I leaned in to him, closing the little distance that had been between our faces. He didn’t stop me, but he didn’t meet me halfway, either. He didn’t move at all and just let it happen.
His breathing ceased for a moment as our lips touched for the very first time, gently and carefully. It wasn’t difficult to sense his abashment and the quandary he suddenly found himself in, but he didn’t turn away from me. Encouraged by that, I intensified the pressure of my mouth on his, kissing him more deliberately and sensual now. He tasted vaguely of fresh water and the sweet fruits he had eaten right before he’d gone to bed, mingled with his own, unique flavour. I felt as if it was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted, but perhaps that was only because I hadn’t received intimate and tender kisses like these in such a long time. I couldn’t tell. I only knew that I wanted, needed more. I needed more of this wonderful warmth which was suddenly flooding my hurting heart, making it pound stronger than it had in many, many weeks. I needed more of these vibrant feelings that made me forget about the pain of reality, if only for a fleeting moment.
I kissed him harder, at the same time guiding my hand from his neck onto his hip, sliding further up, right under the hem of the simple, loose shirt he’d put on after the shower. His lips hesitantly opened up to the soft yet demanding touch of my tongue, allowing me to taste and explore him even deeper, but only for a second or two. When he felt my fingers stroke the bare skin of his waist he seemed to realize what we were about to get ourselves into. Struggling to get a grip on himself, Obi-Wan made a sudden and low noise of protest mixed with suppressed pleasure and slight regret. In a gentle yet very decided gesture he put his hand on mine to instantly stop my expedition over his body. His mouth, which had been so soft and yielding just a moment ago, suddenly became hard and rejecting as I felt his lips seal off to my impatient kisses. I pulled back and looked at him with a silent and sad question in my eyes. His cheeks were a bit flushed with embarassment. The unfamiliar sight would have made me smile, if I hadn’t been so afraid to loose something that hadn’t even started.
“This won’t work out, Padmé. I’m sorry, but we... I can’t,“ he said softly, picking up my hand from his waist. He brought it to his warm lips to breathe a gentle, apologizing kiss on my fingers. I didn’t want him to turn away from me. I didn’t want to be alone, but to feel alive with him. I wanted to go on kissing him, and being kissed in return. Maybe even more. But I knew Obi-Wan was right, so I didn’t say anything. Yet my eyes betrayed my true thoughts as the unspoken question that had been in them turned to a desperate plea. It hurt when he slowly shook his head, denying me my obvious wish.
“You don’t really want to do this,” Obi-Wan said. He still held my hand as he spoke. He wasn’t upset. There was only concern and compassion in his gentle voice, and a hint of apology. “You are heartbroken and I understand that you’re longing for love and physical closeness, but you would only regret it later. We both would. I can’t replace Anakin, Padmé. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you are searching for in me.”
I nodded softly, acknowledging that he was right, though it made me even sadder.
“Can you simply hold me, then? Just as a friend?” I asked. He let me nestle into his embrace without any contradictions. With his arms enveloping me and my head tucked under his chin, I closed my eyes and was grateful that he was still willing to do at least this.
He quickly fell asleep again, but I was too agitated and confused about my thoughts and feelings to take a nap as well. After quite some time of pondering, I still felt the strong urge to be close to Obi-Wan in a much more intimate way than the level of friendship would have justified, but I also realized that he was right with his assumption on later regrets. To engage in any sexual activities wouldn’t change our relationship for the better, but instead, would make it horribly awkward. Not to mention that it would be unfair and selfish to try and use Obi-Wan for making my feeling of loneliness, loss and emptiness go away. Not that I didn’t love Obi-Wan. I loved him, but not in the way I’d loved Anakin. I loved him as a true and good friend, perhaps even the best friend I actually had. There was a gentle fondness we both displayed for each other, as well as great respect and harmony. But there were no passionate sparks between us when we looked at one another. No butterflies in my stomach when he smiled at me. I didn’t want him because I felt for him like I had felt for my husband, but because I had hoped he could patch up the gaping wounds Anakin had ripped into my heart. Suddenly I was glad that Obi-Wan had kept us from going too far. It would have been so wrong.
When he woke up about two hours later, I needed to talk things out with him. I didn’t want our friendship to suffer from what had happened, and I told him so. He listened attentively, not interrupting me once.
“You really mean a lot to me, Obi-Wan. Believe me, I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, and I want to apologize for my highly inappropriate behaviour. I hope you accept,” I closed my short speech and anxiously waited for him to reply.
“Only when you accept my apology for not stopping you sooner. That was highly inappropriate, too,” he said with a little smile. I smiled back and instantly lapsed into a teasing tune.
“Well, I guess it was just a natural reaction. Don’t feel bad about it. You might be a legendary Jedi knight, but you’re also a man of flesh and blood, after all.”
“Indeed. I’m just not used to being reminded of it like this,” he said, his cheeks actually turning a slight shade of red.
“So, apologies accepted on both sides?” I quickly asked before the silence between us had the chance to grow awkward and uncomfortable.
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed with another small yet kind smile.
Half an hour later, we both stood in the kitchen section of our modest home, preparing our dinner together. We settled back into our little, comforting routine in no time. I asked Obi-Wan all sorts of questions on his trip to Mos Eisley, and he told me everything about the people he’d met, the things he’d seen, the news he’d heard of, and the accident he’d had in the canyon.
“I will have to go back as soon as the storm dies down, to see if our things are still there. If they are, and if they weren’t entirely destroyed by the crash, I will have to fetch them,” he said as we sat down at the table to eat. “I’d be glad if you came along with me, just in case it won’t be possible to repair the glider. I’d have to carry everything to the house by foot then, and it would be good to have somebody help me.”
I nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. “Sure, I’ll come along to give you a hand,” I said. But what I really thought was ‘I’ll come along because I don’t want to be separated from you again.’
- t.b.c. -
Previous chapters:
Prologue (Obi-Wan)
Chapter 1 (Obi-Wan)
Chapter 2 (Padmé)
Chapter 3 (Obi-Wan)
Title: Here With Me
Author: nida_yubari
Beta: khuu_khuu
Fandom: Star Wars
Genre:: Angst, Romance, AU
Pairing: Padmé/Obi-Wan
Rating: PG-13 (there might be a R-rated chapter later on)
Summary: This story is set between Episode III and Episode IV, starting at the ending of Ep III. Obi-Wan takes Padmé (yep she's alive) with him to his hiding place on Tatooine. Taking care of her turns out to be far more difficult than he had expected, and when they start to have "inappropriate feelings" for each other, things are getting even more complicated.
Feedback: Is very much appreciated! I like constructive criticism, but please be gentle because it's my very first Star Wars story. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Obi-Wan Kenobi or Padmé Amidala. (Too bad!) George Lucas does. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 4 -- Padmé
I wanted to stay like this forever, securely wrapped in his embrace, and with my arms tightly entwined around his waist in return. I was so happy he was back that I could have wept with relief. The time without him felt like an eternity. It had been so terribly desolate and lonely that I didn’t know how I had managed to not let it drive me into insanity.
In the afternoon of the day of his departure I had already started to feel depressed because I missed him so. I missed the sound of his voice and our conversations during dinner. I missed the feel of his sleeping body right next to mine. I missed the tiny smile that appeared on his face and the warm glint in his eyes when he was amused. I even missed our rare arguments. But my longing for his company was nothing compared to the nightmarish anxiety that welled up inside of me when the great storm came a few days later without a sign or word from Obi-Wan. My concern and my fear for him almost drove me insane as days and nights went by and he just did not return. I could hardly sleep at night. The bed felt horribly cold and too large without him. I lay awake for many hours on end, fearing for the worst. I tried to calm myself down by using his pillow instead of my own, breathing in the faint traces of his unique scent as I tried to fall asleep, but it didn’t help. Actually, it only made things worse. I wanted him here with me, but all I had was his pillow. And maybe, a mean little voice in my head pointed out, this pillow with his fading scent was all that would be left of him, because maybe, he would never come back. Maybe he was taken from me, like all the others. Anakin. Luke. Leia. My parents and siblings. Dormé. And now Obi-Wan. Gone.
As I lay there all alone in the darkness listening to the powerful storm raging across the wasteland and around our house, I cried for the first time in weeks. Until that very moment, I had not realized how attached I’d grown to him during those few months we had been living together. Obi-Wan’s unexpected extended absence made me see that I had not only gotten used to his company, but that I needed it. Spending my days hiding in isolation was easier to bear when there was a friend around with whom I shared my sad fate. A friend I could talk to, listen to, touch, look at and care for. And who cared for me in return. I needed it. I needed him. Sure, I was tough, but I just wasn’t qualified for living the life of a complete hermit.
I was so relieved when he suddenly entered the house that I temporarily forgot about my manners and jumped at him, hugging him so tightly that it was as if I feared that he would disappear any moment. He was taken aback a bit, but held me close nevertheless. I could tell how tired he was; he was actually leaning on me as we stood in one another’s embrace. I even heard a tiny sigh escape him as he rested the side of his face against the top of my head.
“Are you thirsty?” I asked him considerately after I had spent some silent moments savouring the happiness of being reunited. When I felt him nod, I reluctantly let go of him and helped him out of his brown cloak. The beige Jedi tunic he was wearing underneath was filthy, covered with sand, dust, large stains of sweat and even a few small smudges of dried blood. Alarmed, I put my hand on his arm.
“Are you badly hurt?” I wanted to know, looking at him inquiringly.
“No, just a few bruises and this cut on my forehead. It’s already healing,” he told me and went over to our small table. He sat down on a chair with a soft moan of utter exhaustion. Figuring that he must be hungry as well, I got not only a large glass of fresh water for him, but also a few dried fruits and some bread. He thanked me, greedily downed the water, took a bite of bread and ate all of the fruit. Then he stood up, excused himself to the shower and afterwards went straight to bed, muttering something about having to lie down for a few minutes. Even though the storm was still whistling and blowing around the house violently, making the window shutters and the door rattle and squeak, he was deep asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn’t even wake up when I carefully climbed over his body to lie down next to him, curling up in my snug nest between Obi-Wan and the wall.
It was so much better like this, I thought as we lay there together. So much better. Without him, I felt lost, numb and cold, almost as if I was detached from my own body, like a ghost or a shadow. But he was back now, and he made me feel better again. I needed his steadiness und his calm composure to hold on to, using him like an anchor that helped me to somehow keep my sanity. I needed his direct and close presence like the air I was breathing, because there was no other person for me to turn to. I had lost everybody who was close to my heart. I missed them all so much. Anakin the most, of course, and my twins. Though Luke and Leia weren’t dead like their father, they had also been brutally taken from me and it was so hard to know that I wouldn’t be able to raise them and see them grow up.
There were others who also meant a lot to me and who had left behind huge and aching holes of great loss in my heart. I missed Sabé, Captain Panaka and Jar Jar, for example, and Senator Bail Organa. Bail had always been a well trusted advisor for me, and our professional relationship through the senate had over the years blossomed to a deep friendship. He’d always been there for me, standing up for exactly the same goals and purposes I wanted to achieve. He was a good man. I was more than grateful that my little Leia was staying with him on Alderaan. I remembered a particular conversation I’d had with Bail in private, a few years ago. He’d vaguely disburdened his heart to me, telling me of his wife’s and his own wish to have a child, but there seemed to be some sort of fertility problem. It was wearing him down, I could tell even though he tried to hide it and we didn’t go deeper into the subject. I knew he was going to adore and cherish Leia. He was going be the most devoted foster father and raise her with much love. I would have been so happy and proud to do so myself, but it wasn’t meant to be. I had lost her.
I had lost them all. My husband, my children, my family and my friends. I’d never see them again. There was only Obi-Wan, and no one else. He was the only one who could save me from my loneliness and make me feel alive again, I concluded as I was lying next to him in silence, studying his face.
Even in his deep sleep Obi-Wan looked contemplative and not at all peaceful. The characteristic, prominent furrow between his brows had become deeper over the years, from his constant worries and concerns, and not even the relaxation of sleep could smooth it out. Obi-Wan had long lost the jaunty and light-hearted beauty of youth which had always been so typical for Anakin. There were some first streaks of white and light grey in his hair and beard, and a few fine wrinkles at his eyes. He was still a handsome man, though. It was only due to his calm, reserved manner and his modesty that his attractiveness was so subtle.
As I watched him so closely, my eyes caught a few persistent grains of sand that were still caught in his beard, despite the fact that Obi-Wan had taken a rather long shower. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and carefully wiped the fine sand away with my thumb. Strangely enough, once I started touching him, I couldn’t stop anymore, though I knew that it was rude to do so while he was asleep. I just needed to feel him. Unlike everybody else I loved, he wasn’t just a memory that would eventually fade. He was real, temptingly solid and wonderfully warm to my touch.
My discovering fingers drifted along his jaw very lightly. I didn’t want to rob him of his well-deserved sleep and was careful not to wake him up. The texture of his beard, which was always - even here in the deserted wasteland - cut into this impossibly accurate shape that complemented his face, was not as coarse as I’d expected. Though it felt unfamiliar, it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. I gently caressed him for a few moments, until I dared to slowly cross the corner of his mouth. I held my breath as the tip of my middle finger ghosted over his lower lip, exploring him, and feeling his slow, steady exhalations on my hand. There was a small injury where the tender skin had split from being overly exposed to the desiccative sun and hot air, but it was healing up already.
I sensed that he was about to wake up any moment, but I couldn’t get myself to withdraw my hand. As Obi-Wan lazily blinked his eyes open, I gently ran my fingertip along his dry lip for one last time and then continued to stroke his warm cheek and his ear in silence. He took an abrupt breath, perhaps because he wanted to protest, but I quickly lay my finger back on his mouth to prevent it.
“Shhh, it’s alright,” I whispered to him, staring at his lips which were now parted a bit . My words didn’t seem to ease him. I could feel how tense he was. As I looked up, right into his eyes that were clouded from his sleep and exhaustion, I saw that he was confused and also unsure, but not entirely disinclined. Holding his gaze with my own, I took my hand from his mouth and slipped it to the nape of his neck instead.
“It’s alright,” I repeated, to convince not only him but also myself. It’s alright. I could almost believe in it, but there still was an undeniable pang of conscience in me as I leaned in to him, closing the little distance that had been between our faces. He didn’t stop me, but he didn’t meet me halfway, either. He didn’t move at all and just let it happen.
His breathing ceased for a moment as our lips touched for the very first time, gently and carefully. It wasn’t difficult to sense his abashment and the quandary he suddenly found himself in, but he didn’t turn away from me. Encouraged by that, I intensified the pressure of my mouth on his, kissing him more deliberately and sensual now. He tasted vaguely of fresh water and the sweet fruits he had eaten right before he’d gone to bed, mingled with his own, unique flavour. I felt as if it was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted, but perhaps that was only because I hadn’t received intimate and tender kisses like these in such a long time. I couldn’t tell. I only knew that I wanted, needed more. I needed more of this wonderful warmth which was suddenly flooding my hurting heart, making it pound stronger than it had in many, many weeks. I needed more of these vibrant feelings that made me forget about the pain of reality, if only for a fleeting moment.
I kissed him harder, at the same time guiding my hand from his neck onto his hip, sliding further up, right under the hem of the simple, loose shirt he’d put on after the shower. His lips hesitantly opened up to the soft yet demanding touch of my tongue, allowing me to taste and explore him even deeper, but only for a second or two. When he felt my fingers stroke the bare skin of his waist he seemed to realize what we were about to get ourselves into. Struggling to get a grip on himself, Obi-Wan made a sudden and low noise of protest mixed with suppressed pleasure and slight regret. In a gentle yet very decided gesture he put his hand on mine to instantly stop my expedition over his body. His mouth, which had been so soft and yielding just a moment ago, suddenly became hard and rejecting as I felt his lips seal off to my impatient kisses. I pulled back and looked at him with a silent and sad question in my eyes. His cheeks were a bit flushed with embarassment. The unfamiliar sight would have made me smile, if I hadn’t been so afraid to loose something that hadn’t even started.
“This won’t work out, Padmé. I’m sorry, but we... I can’t,“ he said softly, picking up my hand from his waist. He brought it to his warm lips to breathe a gentle, apologizing kiss on my fingers. I didn’t want him to turn away from me. I didn’t want to be alone, but to feel alive with him. I wanted to go on kissing him, and being kissed in return. Maybe even more. But I knew Obi-Wan was right, so I didn’t say anything. Yet my eyes betrayed my true thoughts as the unspoken question that had been in them turned to a desperate plea. It hurt when he slowly shook his head, denying me my obvious wish.
“You don’t really want to do this,” Obi-Wan said. He still held my hand as he spoke. He wasn’t upset. There was only concern and compassion in his gentle voice, and a hint of apology. “You are heartbroken and I understand that you’re longing for love and physical closeness, but you would only regret it later. We both would. I can’t replace Anakin, Padmé. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you are searching for in me.”
I nodded softly, acknowledging that he was right, though it made me even sadder.
“Can you simply hold me, then? Just as a friend?” I asked. He let me nestle into his embrace without any contradictions. With his arms enveloping me and my head tucked under his chin, I closed my eyes and was grateful that he was still willing to do at least this.
He quickly fell asleep again, but I was too agitated and confused about my thoughts and feelings to take a nap as well. After quite some time of pondering, I still felt the strong urge to be close to Obi-Wan in a much more intimate way than the level of friendship would have justified, but I also realized that he was right with his assumption on later regrets. To engage in any sexual activities wouldn’t change our relationship for the better, but instead, would make it horribly awkward. Not to mention that it would be unfair and selfish to try and use Obi-Wan for making my feeling of loneliness, loss and emptiness go away. Not that I didn’t love Obi-Wan. I loved him, but not in the way I’d loved Anakin. I loved him as a true and good friend, perhaps even the best friend I actually had. There was a gentle fondness we both displayed for each other, as well as great respect and harmony. But there were no passionate sparks between us when we looked at one another. No butterflies in my stomach when he smiled at me. I didn’t want him because I felt for him like I had felt for my husband, but because I had hoped he could patch up the gaping wounds Anakin had ripped into my heart. Suddenly I was glad that Obi-Wan had kept us from going too far. It would have been so wrong.
When he woke up about two hours later, I needed to talk things out with him. I didn’t want our friendship to suffer from what had happened, and I told him so. He listened attentively, not interrupting me once.
“You really mean a lot to me, Obi-Wan. Believe me, I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, and I want to apologize for my highly inappropriate behaviour. I hope you accept,” I closed my short speech and anxiously waited for him to reply.
“Only when you accept my apology for not stopping you sooner. That was highly inappropriate, too,” he said with a little smile. I smiled back and instantly lapsed into a teasing tune.
“Well, I guess it was just a natural reaction. Don’t feel bad about it. You might be a legendary Jedi knight, but you’re also a man of flesh and blood, after all.”
“Indeed. I’m just not used to being reminded of it like this,” he said, his cheeks actually turning a slight shade of red.
“So, apologies accepted on both sides?” I quickly asked before the silence between us had the chance to grow awkward and uncomfortable.
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed with another small yet kind smile.
Half an hour later, we both stood in the kitchen section of our modest home, preparing our dinner together. We settled back into our little, comforting routine in no time. I asked Obi-Wan all sorts of questions on his trip to Mos Eisley, and he told me everything about the people he’d met, the things he’d seen, the news he’d heard of, and the accident he’d had in the canyon.
“I will have to go back as soon as the storm dies down, to see if our things are still there. If they are, and if they weren’t entirely destroyed by the crash, I will have to fetch them,” he said as we sat down at the table to eat. “I’d be glad if you came along with me, just in case it won’t be possible to repair the glider. I’d have to carry everything to the house by foot then, and it would be good to have somebody help me.”
I nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. “Sure, I’ll come along to give you a hand,” I said. But what I really thought was ‘I’ll come along because I don’t want to be separated from you again.’
- t.b.c. -