Cover 11/27, PG-13
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars. I am not making any profit from this work of fanfiction.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
By the time Ryn exited the ‘fresher -- in newly unscented clothes and combing her long hair out with her fingers -- Anakin was putting the final touches on the AED locator.
“Will it work?” Ryn asked him, pointing with her foot since her hands were busy.
Anakin rubbed his face with his hands, grimacing when he realized he was smearing grease. “We won't know for sure until we try it,” he admitted. “There’s no way around that. But I was thinking ...” He let his voice trail off, still not sure about the idea, and Ryn, busy wrapping her hair into some kind of loop on top of her head, said, “Yeah?”
“That ... thing you did in the factory -- the mind trick thing. Do you think you could project something else? Like maybe a desire for sleep?”
Ryn finished tying up her hair and pulled the room’s lone chair out so she could straddle it. “I don’t know,” she said. “That was my first time doing it on purpose. Why?”
“How many people do you think you could confuse at once?”
Ryn grinned at him. “If I’m talking? Thousands. But the way you mean? I don’t know that, either. I guess it would depend on proximity and how clear-headed they were to begin with. What are you thinking?”
Anakin looked at the shadows under her eyes and almost didn’t say it. But in the end, he didn’t have any better ideas, so he said, “The easiest way to get the slaves out is if no one realizes what we’re doing.”
“I’ll just cancel the announcement, then,” Ryn said drily.
Anakin shook his head. “Look. We’ll get in, and I’ll find a way to scan the slaves. Then I’ll signal you, and if there are AEDs, you can pilfer the remote and we’ll sneak out. If there aren’t any AEDs, then we can just skip straight to the sneaking.”
He could see the worry in her eyes. “I can see a lot of opportunity for failure there.”
“But there is also opportunity for success,” Anakin pointed out. He rocked to his feet. “Do you have any better ideas?”
Ryn sighed. “Kriff it. No, I don’t. But this is going to be a mess.”
“It may not be as bad as you think,” Anakin said cheerfully. He glanced out the tiny window. “So. We wait until nightfall, then we go over to the Outlander and you wheedle out an invitation to Ziro’s compound. We’ll take the rest as it comes.”
Ryn crossed her arms on the back of the chair. “So. My cover was as a careless young noblewoman in search of entertainment. What will you be?”
“Your brother?”
Ryn shook her head. “No. I gave them my real name. I thought it would be better not to invent any more than I had to. But you are very clearly not my brother. No one would believe it.”
“Siblings don’t always look alike,” Anakin reminded her.
“Kit is recognizable,” Ryn countered. “We’ve fought the Hutts on and off for years, over one thing and another. He’ll be known to Ziro’s men, by sight at least.”
Anakin looked back at her. “And you?”
“Ziro knew who I was. But there’s no price on my head.” She grimaced. “Yet.”
“There will be after this,” Anakin told her.
Ryn looked gloomy. “I know.”
“Try not to be so glum.” He glanced out the window again. “And see if you can go back to sleep. After what you told me about Master Vos, there’s no point in going to the Outlander before dark.”
Ryn got up and moved obediently to the bed. “What about you? Aren’t you going to try and get some sleep?”
“I’m fine.”
Ryn frowned at him over the blanket. “You just healed,” she reminded him. “Come to bed for an hour or two.”
He couldn’t think of a reason not to that didn’t sound like But I was just in your bed, thinking about you naked.
“Come on,” Ryn urged him, oblivious, holding the sheet for him.
Anakin shed his utility belt and tabard and kicked out of his boots.
A half hour later, Ryn stirred and turned over to face him. “Still can’t sleep?” she asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Anakin, lying rigid on his back, shook his head. “I’ll just meditate.”
“Is that ... is that what Jed normally do in this situation?”
Anakin scowled at the ceiling. “What situation?”
He could feel Ryn’s blush, even though he was refusing to look at her. “I don’t know the word in Basic. The way you’re feeling. Like yesterday, when we ... kissed.”
“That is not going to happen again,” Anakin told her, just so they were perfectly clear.
Ryn glanced down his body, jerked her eyes back to his face. “It looks as though it might help.”
“It would not help,” Anakin said firmly, trying not to think about that kiss. “It would make things worse.”
Ryn looked sympathetic. “Maybe not if I ... helped you.” She didn’t know the word for the kind of help she was offering in Basic, either, it seemed, but she sent him an image of her hand, sliding down his stomach ... and when he shook his head, she apparently thought it was a matter of taste, because she changed the image so that she was licking her way down, and ...
Anakin sat up fast, trying to control his breathing. “No! Force no! Stop doing that!”
Ryn shrank back a little, looking hurt and confused. “Why not?” she asked quietly. “Is it ... is it because you want Padmé?”
Anakin looked away. “No.”
And it wasn’t, not entirely. But Ryn must have sensed the little bit that was, because she said, “Padmé is in the past, Anakin. She may even be in the future. But is is not here now.” She couldn’t quite hide the catch in her voice at the end.
“It isn’t that,” Anakin said, to save her from having to go on. He tried to find words that wouldn’t hurt her. “Or, well, not only that. You’re too young.”
Ryn sat up beside him, plucking lint from the bedspread with careful fingers. “You’re not so much older.”
“I know.” He couldn’t explain, not really. He could tell her, but it wouldn’t be the same.
He tried anyway, because he owed her that. “On Tatooine, only slaves ... start doing things like that at your age, sexual things. Sometimes it’s because they’re forced, sometimes it’s choice ... but it’s like there’s no point in putting it off, no point in waiting for someone special ... because there are no guarantees. Their master could decide, at any time ...”
Ryn didn’t need to know the gory details. He cleared his throat and blinked, arousal fading in the face of memory. “Sometimes girls would hurry to find someone for their first time, so at least they got to pick, even just once ... Amee asked me and Kitster, years ago, if we’d make sure her first time was with one of us. We were just kids ... I don’t want it to be like that for you. I couldn’t live with myself if ...” If I hurt you. If I treated you like a slave. “...if we did something and you regretted it, later.” He cupped one hand under hers and threaded their fingers together, glimmering white against desert tan. “I want you to have all the time in the galaxy to find someone. To be ready.”
Ryn turned their twined hands so that his was on top, lightly tracing a faded scar. “You are my someone special,” she said softly. “But I can understand why you would want to wait. There is no hurry.” A very slight tightening of her fingers said otherwise. “But you are still uncomfortable. So.” She stretched up to kiss him, very tenderly, on the cheek. “I saw a pastry shop one level up. I’m going to go check it out --” she disentangled their fingers and slipped past him, over the edge of the bed “-- and I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so.”
At the door, she turned back, the faint vestiges of a shy smile in her eyes. “Thank you, for telling me.”
Then she was gone, and Anakin fell back on the bed and thought about that licking thing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
By the time Ryn exited the ‘fresher -- in newly unscented clothes and combing her long hair out with her fingers -- Anakin was putting the final touches on the AED locator.
“Will it work?” Ryn asked him, pointing with her foot since her hands were busy.
Anakin rubbed his face with his hands, grimacing when he realized he was smearing grease. “We won't know for sure until we try it,” he admitted. “There’s no way around that. But I was thinking ...” He let his voice trail off, still not sure about the idea, and Ryn, busy wrapping her hair into some kind of loop on top of her head, said, “Yeah?”
“That ... thing you did in the factory -- the mind trick thing. Do you think you could project something else? Like maybe a desire for sleep?”
Ryn finished tying up her hair and pulled the room’s lone chair out so she could straddle it. “I don’t know,” she said. “That was my first time doing it on purpose. Why?”
“How many people do you think you could confuse at once?”
Ryn grinned at him. “If I’m talking? Thousands. But the way you mean? I don’t know that, either. I guess it would depend on proximity and how clear-headed they were to begin with. What are you thinking?”
Anakin looked at the shadows under her eyes and almost didn’t say it. But in the end, he didn’t have any better ideas, so he said, “The easiest way to get the slaves out is if no one realizes what we’re doing.”
“I’ll just cancel the announcement, then,” Ryn said drily.
Anakin shook his head. “Look. We’ll get in, and I’ll find a way to scan the slaves. Then I’ll signal you, and if there are AEDs, you can pilfer the remote and we’ll sneak out. If there aren’t any AEDs, then we can just skip straight to the sneaking.”
He could see the worry in her eyes. “I can see a lot of opportunity for failure there.”
“But there is also opportunity for success,” Anakin pointed out. He rocked to his feet. “Do you have any better ideas?”
Ryn sighed. “Kriff it. No, I don’t. But this is going to be a mess.”
“It may not be as bad as you think,” Anakin said cheerfully. He glanced out the tiny window. “So. We wait until nightfall, then we go over to the Outlander and you wheedle out an invitation to Ziro’s compound. We’ll take the rest as it comes.”
Ryn crossed her arms on the back of the chair. “So. My cover was as a careless young noblewoman in search of entertainment. What will you be?”
“Your brother?”
Ryn shook her head. “No. I gave them my real name. I thought it would be better not to invent any more than I had to. But you are very clearly not my brother. No one would believe it.”
“Siblings don’t always look alike,” Anakin reminded her.
“Kit is recognizable,” Ryn countered. “We’ve fought the Hutts on and off for years, over one thing and another. He’ll be known to Ziro’s men, by sight at least.”
Anakin looked back at her. “And you?”
“Ziro knew who I was. But there’s no price on my head.” She grimaced. “Yet.”
“There will be after this,” Anakin told her.
Ryn looked gloomy. “I know.”
“Try not to be so glum.” He glanced out the window again. “And see if you can go back to sleep. After what you told me about Master Vos, there’s no point in going to the Outlander before dark.”
Ryn got up and moved obediently to the bed. “What about you? Aren’t you going to try and get some sleep?”
“I’m fine.”
Ryn frowned at him over the blanket. “You just healed,” she reminded him. “Come to bed for an hour or two.”
He couldn’t think of a reason not to that didn’t sound like But I was just in your bed, thinking about you naked.
“Come on,” Ryn urged him, oblivious, holding the sheet for him.
Anakin shed his utility belt and tabard and kicked out of his boots.
A half hour later, Ryn stirred and turned over to face him. “Still can’t sleep?” she asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Anakin, lying rigid on his back, shook his head. “I’ll just meditate.”
“Is that ... is that what Jed normally do in this situation?”
Anakin scowled at the ceiling. “What situation?”
He could feel Ryn’s blush, even though he was refusing to look at her. “I don’t know the word in Basic. The way you’re feeling. Like yesterday, when we ... kissed.”
“That is not going to happen again,” Anakin told her, just so they were perfectly clear.
Ryn glanced down his body, jerked her eyes back to his face. “It looks as though it might help.”
“It would not help,” Anakin said firmly, trying not to think about that kiss. “It would make things worse.”
Ryn looked sympathetic. “Maybe not if I ... helped you.” She didn’t know the word for the kind of help she was offering in Basic, either, it seemed, but she sent him an image of her hand, sliding down his stomach ... and when he shook his head, she apparently thought it was a matter of taste, because she changed the image so that she was licking her way down, and ...
Anakin sat up fast, trying to control his breathing. “No! Force no! Stop doing that!”
Ryn shrank back a little, looking hurt and confused. “Why not?” she asked quietly. “Is it ... is it because you want Padmé?”
Anakin looked away. “No.”
And it wasn’t, not entirely. But Ryn must have sensed the little bit that was, because she said, “Padmé is in the past, Anakin. She may even be in the future. But is is not here now.” She couldn’t quite hide the catch in her voice at the end.
“It isn’t that,” Anakin said, to save her from having to go on. He tried to find words that wouldn’t hurt her. “Or, well, not only that. You’re too young.”
Ryn sat up beside him, plucking lint from the bedspread with careful fingers. “You’re not so much older.”
“I know.” He couldn’t explain, not really. He could tell her, but it wouldn’t be the same.
He tried anyway, because he owed her that. “On Tatooine, only slaves ... start doing things like that at your age, sexual things. Sometimes it’s because they’re forced, sometimes it’s choice ... but it’s like there’s no point in putting it off, no point in waiting for someone special ... because there are no guarantees. Their master could decide, at any time ...”
Ryn didn’t need to know the gory details. He cleared his throat and blinked, arousal fading in the face of memory. “Sometimes girls would hurry to find someone for their first time, so at least they got to pick, even just once ... Amee asked me and Kitster, years ago, if we’d make sure her first time was with one of us. We were just kids ... I don’t want it to be like that for you. I couldn’t live with myself if ...” If I hurt you. If I treated you like a slave. “...if we did something and you regretted it, later.” He cupped one hand under hers and threaded their fingers together, glimmering white against desert tan. “I want you to have all the time in the galaxy to find someone. To be ready.”
Ryn turned their twined hands so that his was on top, lightly tracing a faded scar. “You are my someone special,” she said softly. “But I can understand why you would want to wait. There is no hurry.” A very slight tightening of her fingers said otherwise. “But you are still uncomfortable. So.” She stretched up to kiss him, very tenderly, on the cheek. “I saw a pastry shop one level up. I’m going to go check it out --” she disentangled their fingers and slipped past him, over the edge of the bed “-- and I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so.”
At the door, she turned back, the faint vestiges of a shy smile in her eyes. “Thank you, for telling me.”
Then she was gone, and Anakin fell back on the bed and thought about that licking thing.