Author: Ticklesivory PM
Obidala...again! This is the followup story to Wayward Desire. Anakin is determined to set his Master up with someone, he's just not sure how to go about it.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - Obi-Wan K. & Padmé Amidala - Chapters: 25 - Words: 23,873 - Reviews: 225 - Favs: 29 - Follows: 8 - Updated: 05-14-06 - Published: 04-10-06 - Status: Complete - id: 2885945
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Lucky.." Padmé breathlessly replied, her eyes also moving down to the soft lips perched just above her own.
"Padmé?" The mouth she was focused on formed her name and all Padmé was capable of replying was a 'Huh?'
"Look at me." Obi-Wan urged her, reaching out to grasp her hand in his. "Before you go, I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for letting my grief and my anger get in the way of our friendship for so long."
"Let me finish." The Jedi Master interrupted kindly, now grasping onto both of Padmé's small, trembling hands. "I wish I could go back and change what happened. How I acted. If I could, there's no telling where we would be today, but I know that we would be together."
"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry, but I have to go." Padmé sighed sorrowfully, her heart being torn in two. Her date should be arriving at any minute and she didn't want to take a chance at him seeing them together like this.
"I understand. I wish you well, Padmé Amidala. If you don't mind, I'm going to hang around and make sure your companion is trustworthy."
"Thank you." She forced a smile and squeezed the strong hands that held hers before turning and slowly walking toward the library entrance.
One glance behind her was met with a smile disguised behind a neatly trimmed beard and Padmé took a deep breath and continued toward her goal.
As she neared the designated bench, she noticed that someone had left a novel sitting on it. Only when she picked it up and read the title, did she understand its significance.
"A Book of Shimona Poetry." She read aloud softly, opening the book to the place marked with a red satin ribbon. Inside was pressed a single blue moon thistle, her favorite flower. She picked up the delicate dried bud and pressed it to her nose, inhaling its lingering fragrance.
Glancing around and up the steps leading to the library entrance, Padmé was momentarily confused. Perhaps he had left the book and went inside. Surely, he'd be right back.
She returned her attention to the passage and recognized it immediately, and then began speaking the words that had seemingly intertwined her destiny with her anonymous love.
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too."
Suddenly, a male voice picked up the lyric from where she left off, the volume becoming louder as the voice came closer. Padmé shivered as she realized that she recognized that voice, and she turned to stare in confusion at the Jedi Knight who slowly approached her, clutching the beloved poetry to her chest.
"Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her."
When Obi-Wan had ended his recitation, he was hovering over Padmé, smiling warmly. His hand stole inside his brown tunic to retrieve another blue thistle, this one freshly picked and he handed it to Padmé.
"I…" She stammered as she accepted the gift, her brows furrowing in confusion. "You…you are?…"
"Stars of Shimona." Obi-Wan finished for her, taking the book from her and laying it back down upon the bench so that he could once more take her trembling hands in his own. "Hello there melancholy lady." He teased with a grin, but quickly turned somber as he suddenly could not interpret the expression that Padmé now wore.
Her eyes darted to and fro trying to make some sense of the situation. Was it possible? Could he truly be the one she had been talking to this whole time?
Her eyes refocused on the concerned man standing over her. The diner, she remembered with a panic. She had been so awful to him!
"Padmé?" Obi-Wan prompted, watching her face closely.
"But what about those terrible things I said to you in the diner?" Her confusion was replaced with worry.
Obi-Wan, however, revealed a look of complete relief and happiness, reaching out and drawing the beautiful young senator into his arms.
"Darling, that's in the past. You really need to learn to let things go."
A slow realization dawned upon Padmé's face as she looked up into the clear-blue eyes of the man before her. A man that she loved and finally, one who loved her back.
A quick study of his mouth once more relayed her desire and Obi-Wan answered her call, sealing her trembling lips with his own, drawing her as close as possible, underneath the drifting white blossoms of the atofta trees.
At the edge of the lake that separated the library from the shopping district stood a gangly Jedi Padawan, whose hand quickly reached down to answer his comlink.
"What is it?"
"Anakin? Are you going to make it to laserball practice tonight or not?" The voice asked in irritation.
The young man looked once more to the couple beyond the lake who obviously had no concern that they were making out in a public park and he smiled broadly.
"Trell, no problem. I'll be there!"
The poem included throughout the story is "Tonight I Write the Saddest Lines" by Pablo Neruda. (I made up the Shimona name). : )
Thanks for the reviews and thekindcomments. I am putting "A Time of Reckoning" on the back burner for a while, because I am eager to begin a new story that I've been working on for the past couple of days. Don't worry though, I'll come back to Reckoning at a later date. See you soon!