Author's Notes: Takes place immediately after TPM, aka the night of the Naboo celebration.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. I don't profit from it. All you see/read are owned by George Lucas and his company, Lucasfilm Limited.

Sabe, who had retreated to one of the palace's many corners to watch the evening party at its height, had let her disenchantment of the situation finally hit her. Her job had been done, the queen was in her rightful place, and she was in hers. Everything was made right, now that the Trade Federation had been expelled from their world. And yet she felt empty somehow. The merriment surrounding her was too much. Discreetly, she made eye contact with Padme from across the room. The queen winked and turned back to conversing with the newly elected Chancellor.

Sabe carefully made her way out of the Nubian royal palace and wandered down to one of the gardens that hadn't been intruded with intoxicated guests. When she was sure she was alone she flung the hood of her hunter green outer robe back with a sigh, brown eyes drinking in the clarity of the starry sky above. Then she picked up the sand-colored skirts of her handmaiden outfit and removed her high-heeled shoes, knowing full and well that Sache would ream her later for allowing the skirts to get dirty because Sabe couldn't remove a stain if her life depended on it. Unfortunately for Sache, Sabe couldn't give a damn about the skirt when she was an emotional wreck on the inside.

She stealthily moved between the hanging trees in the blossoming night. The music from the party fell below the sound of the nearby waterfall. She smiled to herself when the smell of salt-water hit her nose. Her handmaiden mask down, her skirts to the grass below, her shoes stashed somewhere against the willow, and Sache successfully at the back of her mind, she stepped out of the low hanging branches toward the stone banister simply as Sabe. Under these stars she was no handmaiden, no decoy, no one special, just the simple girl she never let anyone see. She shivered slightly at the wind that blew up from the side of the cliff. It was by no means close to the Nubian winter cycle, but it wasn't quite their full-blown summer anymore either.

She turned to take in her favorite part of the garden and nearly gasped when she saw a robed man sitting on the stone banister, about twenty feet away. Subconsciously, her hand drifted to the place above her skirts where her blaster was concealed. Then the man's hooded head shot towards her. This time she did gasp, because she knew him. And she certainly hadn't expected to find him sitting on a stone banister above an open drop off with puffy eyes, a wet face, and hunched shoulders.

Sabe relaxed then, and decided not to leave the young Jedi to his privacy, even if it was what he wanted. Experience told her that it wasn't what he needed, so she approached slowly. He didn't move an inch, staring at her the entire way. She stopped right next to him and looked out into the darkness, listening to the water crashing somewhere far below them. Then, after giving him one long look, decided give in to what Panaka would always call the reckless child in her. She gathered her voluminous skirts below and held one corner up to the young Jedi.

"Hold this," she said, simply.

He stared back at her, confused. "What?" he croaked.

"Hold my skirts," she repeated, this time channeling Padme for more emphasis, hoping he wouldn't question her further.

Dumbly, he took hold of the offered fabric and turned his head away. Expertly, she set one foot on the stone surface, used his left shoulder for balance, and hoisted herself up onto the banister next to him. She thanked him and repositioned some of the fabric beneath her bottom to keep the cold away. Not two seconds later she noticed him beginning to rise. Instantly, she grabbed his sleeve, and he stopped to stare at her again.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I thought," he started. "…I'm sorry, I thought you wanted—"

"Company, Knight Kenobi."

He half smiled and winced at the same time, but not directly to her, partially hiding behind the fabric of his hood. Sabe noticed this, deciding to play her cards slowly. If politics taught her anything, it was that patience could ruin or reward. And she'd been far more patient with this man than she'd been with men twice his age. It was no secret, between them, of the stolen glances and implied words underneath the proprietary that was needed to keep up the charade of the decoy.

He saw right through the act she played in Padme's absence on the ship on Tatooine. Surprised as she was, she couldn't help not teasing him for how long it had taken him to figure it out. But Kenobi wasn't stupid, in fact he had found her out quicker than anyone on the mental list she had been keeping ever since the beginning of her decoy occupation. They were both perceptive individuals, that much was clear. But how deep either had to go to understand the other was still unknown. This was why, that despite the few secret conversations they stole under the two suns of Tatooine, Sabe felt light years apart from the man she was sitting next to.

"Would you prefer just Obi-Wan?" she asked, softly.

Uneasily, he cleared his throat. "Just Obi-Wan, if it's acceptable to you, milady."

Sabe smiled. "Only if you promise to refer to me as just Sabe?"

"Alright," he said softly, turning his head away. "…Just Sabe—"

She giggled a little. He stiffened in response, apologized, and made ready to leave. But she grabbed his arm again.

"Don't, please. I'm in need of a laugh after the celebration."

Surprised, Obi-Wan turned his head to regard her, and readjusted himself on the banister, his curiosity peaked. "I thought you'd be happy?"

"Oh, don't mistake me, I am, but…the more of these political functions I'm forced to attend the less engaging and the more superfluous in nature I find them."

"Forgive me, milady, but—"

"Sabe," she corrected, gently.

"Sabe, but it isn't everyday that a world is freed from oppressive forces such as the Trade Federation and the Sith."

"I suspect that's a compliment, coming from a Jedi. You must have seen many worlds already." She paused, seeing that his demeanor had remained unchanged, though he hadn't moved away from her yet. This was a good sign. "Too many?" she pressed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

He looked at her, studied her for a few seconds, and then answered softly. "Enough."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five." He paused to take a deep breath, trying desperately to relax. "…And you?"

"Seventeen."

His eyes narrowed. "Seventeen?" he asked, skeptical.

She let out a breath of annoyance. Lying to a Jedi wasn't exactly smart. "Oh, alright. I'm sixteen. But my birthday is in a week, so I'll soon be seventeen. What's the point in waiting another week?"

"Pardon my intrusion, but—"

"What intrusion? We're having a conversation."

"Yes, forgive—"

Sabe quickly slapped his arm. "None of that. You had a question?"

Obi-Wan's face tensed as he took a breath. Why was he so nervous? He exhaled as he reached out to the force for peace, finding it in an unsurprising abundance. "Isn't the queen only fourteen years of age?"

"She is. But that's the power of the Nubian face regalia and the design of her gowns. Minus the fact that I'm unnaturally short for my age, and that from afar I've been confused for her majesty by her own family, which was the reason why I was chosen for the queen's entourage in the first place."

"Duplicity made simple. So it's all purposeful then?"

"After all of the training, yes."

He conceded a smirk. "It's quite clever. I must confess that I hadn't looked that far into it."

"Hmm, almost clever enough to fool a Jedi then?"

Obi-Wan didn't particularly like the look in Sabe's eyes. It was strange, the emotions she easily stirred in him, the playfulness. He hadn't felt like this in years, not since his initiate days, all the seriousness of being accepted as a padawan pushed most of it out of him. And here he was with a teenage girl, who spoke wisdom beyond her years but with an innocence that revealed her age only in certain intonations now and again. These were the exact things he had only just begun to remember in the short time he had started to spend with a nine-year-old boy…who was now, suddenly, his padawan, and his first.

But that thought shifted light years away from him, because in the dead of night, with Anakin already asleep, Obi-Wan found a part of himself that just wasn't ready to grow up yet. He chuckled at the irony. To find out such a revelation about himself at this precise moment was indeed laughable, with all the years of his own maturity that he endlessly pressed onto his master. But who was he to judge its presence when it was helping keep the depression from taking permanent residence?

"Not as easily as you might think, your majesty," he answered finally. "There is an inch difference of height between the two of you."

Sabe laughed a little more, this time. And this time it made him smile too. "Trivial, to most. And easily fixed with the proper shoes."

"I'll concede to that," he said. Though she'd never admit it, the Jedi had succeeded in putting her at ease. She was very talented in hiding her own anxieties. And he had to admit that she was an intriguing puzzle.

"Tell me something, Obi-Wan. Why are you out here and not enjoying yourself? I'd imagine it's not everyday for you either that you're given the chance to partake in a liberated world's freedom celebration?"

"It's…not as simple as your reason, milady."

She nearly corrected him that time, but held her tongue at the sound of his voice; it had changed. And she would be a fool to say that it didn't strike a chord somewhere within herself.

"Well, I can assure you that mine is not as simple as I've made it out to be." Carefully, she adjusted the dress underneath her again, numbly aware of the new creases she had made in the skirt. "I was never interested in politics. Though the life we live as handmaidens is more privileged than most, I no longer find any meaning in it."

His surprise grew when he realized her intent, what she was telling him underneath the surface. "You plan to leave the queen's service?"

"Only after her term as queen has been fulfilled. There are rumors that with Senator Palpatine's election as Chancellor, Padme will be asked to serve as Senator, which would still require her the use of those she trusts. She would be forced to relocate to Coruscant, to leave Naboo behind, for extended periods of time. You may think it selfish, and I admit that it is, but that isn't how I want to live my life."

All the while he listened to her attentively, his own troubles forgotten momentarily. "You've seen enough of Coruscant?"

"I'm," she started, suddenly finding tears beginning to form in her eyes. "…I'm not Padme, though I'm forced to pretend on occasion. I used to envy her, but now I pity her. She's grown up, and there's no chance of getting those precious years that some spend with family back."

"Do you envy her because of her family?"

Sabe smiled, bitterly. "She has what I never had. I was orphaned at a young age."

The Jedi's gaze softened and his sympathy was apparent. "That is something you share in common, then, the loss of your childhoods."

"I know she misses it. I would never wish my own experiences on anyone else. But I suppose I've learned how futile an effort it is to protect those you love."

Obi-Wan fell silent. After a few minutes she was able to regain her composure without having made a spectacle of herself. But when she did Sabe felt guilty because she remembered why she had wanted to see him again…here she was wallowing in her own faults when he was sitting beside her with something far greater. She had requested time in the morning to seek the Jedi out, and properly apologize for not offering her condolences at the actual funeral. Padme encouraged her to do it, with a wink somewhere in her eye that Sabe didn't care to acknowledge. At least the gardens weren't under surveillance, so the queen wouldn't have the opportunity to check up on her. Just to be safe, Sabe took a quick scan of the area and then laid a hand on Obi-Wan's left arm.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I never had the chance to give you my condolences…if they do anything."

"They do…" he replied.

She slipped her right hand into his left and gave a reassuring squeeze. He took in a shaky breath and exhaled harshly. It didn't take a Jedi to know that he was emotionally unstable. He briefly wondered if it was one of the reasons why Yoda was initially hesitant to let Obi-Wan carry out his master's last wish. Did the old master not have faith in his abilities? Did he have any faith in his own abilities?

"Force, help me," he whispered to the darkness.

She barely heard it above the crashing water below. And immediately, she realized what position she had placed herself in. What appropriate action should she take? What comfort could she offer him as one of the queen's handmaidens? What lines could she cross, and get away with, and which ones could she not without serious consequences? What type of comfort did he need? Sabe sighed, confused as ever, and looked over to Obi-Wan, sitting next to her, years away, lost in his own memories.

She was fed up with propriety, fed up with what people expected of her, of who they wanted her to be. She wanted to be no one else but herself, and if that meant only for this one moment, she would do it. So, when her right arm slid around his back, when she closed as much distance as she could between their sides, leaned her face against his shoulder, and began to rub her left hand along his left arm, she felt more at ease with herself than she had in years, hoping that it would also be enough for him.

Obi-Wan, expectedly tensed at first, and hadn't known what to do or what to make of the present situation he was in. It was unexpected, receiving comfort from whom he had mistaken for a time as the Queen of Naboo, someone regal, cold, preoccupied with matters more important than the simple matters that defined the life of a Jedi. But he couldn't turn her down, especially when she was offering what he needed to keep breathing.

In truth, Obi-Wan was frustrated because every attempt at meditation left him with the same emotions and feelings he had at the beginning of the session. Qui-Gon's death had been the catalyst, he knew that, but the reason for the recurrent festering of his suffering was still a mystery…Perhaps it is the boy…

Obi-Wan's flow of thinking paused…Anakin?

What makes you think you can protect him when you couldn't even protect your own master?

Obi-Wan shuddered. These thoughts weren't his own—His head sharply turned towards the palace, his mind reaching out into the darkness to find an identity. But as silently as the presence had infiltrated his mind, it dissipated into the crowd of sentients as if it had never been there. He blinked. Had it been his imagination?

"Obi-Wan?" Sabe called.

Abruptly his gaze shifted to hers, sitting beside him, uncertain.

"I'm sorry if I stepped over any boundaries—"

"No! No, believe me Sabe it's not you..."

"Then what?"

"I'm not sure." But that wasn't the point. Whoever or whatever it was had, reluctantly, been right. Obi-Wan was worried about the boy. As high regard as Obi-Wan had held his own master, Qui-Gon was by no means a perfect Jedi. Xanatos was enough reason for a cause to worry. How was he to know if and when Anakin might turn toward those dark tendencies? How was he to fight them?

"I don't know if I can do this," he reluctantly admitted.

"Do what?"

"…Anakin. I don't know if I can train him."

"What makes you doubt yourself?"

"…many things."

"I'm sure you'll find it surprising, but we handmaidens aren't as clean and posh as you expect us to be."

Obi-Wan turned his head and looked at her funny. Sabe smiled, mischievously and leaned in to whisper.

"Besides gossiping, we eavesdrop. And if there is one thing I am sure of about your master, it is that he had complete and total faith in your capabilities as a Jedi. I'd also imagine that he'd be quite upset to see you so doubtful about yourself."

That statement earned her a chuckle and a tearful smile. "You'd be right, m—"

"If you call me 'milady' one more time, I will either personally or see to it that you're thrown off this cliff."

To her surprise, he smiled even wider. But when he made to speak, she somehow knew that he would apologize for the title. So, she beat him to the punch.

"And if you apologize one more time—"

Obi-Wan laughed. "Alright, Sabe, I understand, truly I do!"

"Good," she said, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Now say it again."

He sighed, nearly all tension gone from his features. "…Sabe."

She grinned, unable to resist teasing him when she saw his cheeks begin to redden. "Once more, with conviction!"

His eyebrows raised and his eyes narrowed, nearly challenging her. But, after a moment of thought, obliging her felt just as good…medicine for an illness he couldn't name. "Sabe," he said, as dramatically quiet as he could. "Are you satisfied?"

She nearly shivered when he said her name for the third time, but she very well couldn't let him catch on to that. "I am now, Obi-Wan."

But, as quickly as she had gotten him into good spirits, he turned serious again. "I wasn't exactly ready for any of this."

She leaned in closer. "Neither were we when the Federation invaded."

Suddenly, Obi-Wan couldn't hold it back any longer…and promptly burst out laughing. Sabe was so taken aback that she almost started laughing too.

"This is hardly appropriate!" she exclaimed.

"I'm so sorry! It's just…misery loves company I suppose." A pause, then a soft thank you, followed by a genuine smile.

"You're welcome," she whispered, knowing that she had stared at him for a few seconds too long. "And now you know we handmaidens aren't made of permacrete—you won't tell anyone, I hope?"

"On my honor as a Jedi, no one will know."

"Good. We have a reputation to uphold."

Unexpectedly, Obi-wan rose and jumped to the ground behind her, lowering his hood, and extending his hand. She stared, confused, and slightly disappointed when she realized that their meeting may have come to an end, prematurely, in her mind. She was enjoying herself with this Jedi's company. She felt at ease around him, moreso than the ease she felt around Padme in the privacy of their quarters without the face paint of the queen covering her. He cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly.

"Sitting on that ledge can be quite uncomfortable after a while. Would you care to accompany me into the garden, where it might be more comfortable?"

Before she could control it, Sabe smiled. "I would like that."

She tried to quell the blush that she could feel starting to cover her face. In a blur, she gathered her dress around her and started to stand, intending to jump down from the stone banister to prove that she didn't need any assistance. And it was partially the truth, that she didn't need help, because she and Padme, or one of the other handmaidens, often visited this spot. Sabe had stopped counting the times where she had to help others off the banister; she, admittedly, had started the habit, much to Panaka and his security team's disdain. But tonight, for some reason, she was made to eat every word that she had spoken in favor of the dangerous behavior.

Without realizing her mistake, she placed a knee against the edge of the ledge, intending to pivot once she had ground on her other foot, but the foot in question found no traction when it landed on the smooth fabric of her long dress. Instantly, her foot slipped, as well as all the weight she placed on the left side of her body. Breathless, her mind barely wrapped itself around what had happened until she felt her knee slip from the ledge as well. Rapidly, Sabe started to descend, out into the dark nothing that hid the canyon below her. But two strong hands encircled her wrist, where only one had hovered a second ago. She hadn't even had time to scream, though now her gasps of fear were clearly heard.

Obi-Wan had to admit, now, that his focus had slipped, as he desperately held onto the woman dangling dangerously over the ledge that his stomach was pressed into. Some of the muscles in his arm trembled after the impact of stopping her fall. Sabe was a slimly built woman so she was, by no means, heavy to him. But with the way gravity was acting against both of them, Obi-Wan couldn't lift her safely from their current position. Determined, he spread his legs and planted both of his boots against two short pillars, underneath of the ledge. Once he was sure of her weight in one hand, and with the force's help, he let go with his other hand and held it out.

"Sabe," he rasped, facial features intense. "Give me your other hand!"

For a split second, she panicked, too stricken with fear to understand what to do. But his eyes, boring into hers, from above, snapped Sabe out of herself; suddenly, she was calm. With a grunt, she tightened her hold on Obi-Wan's left hand and used it as leverage to grab his right hand with her left. With that done, he hauled her up, though she helped by gaining some footing on the ground below the ledge, once she could reach it. His arms snuck around her back and waist before she realized it, lifting her over the ledge and back over to his side of the banister, away from the drop off.

She let out a shaky breath, lightheaded and near tears, as he held her against him, faces only inches apart. Their eyes locked together, both unsure of what just transpired, but also aware of what could have happened. Swallowing, to aid his dry throat, he set her down on the ground, but stepped closer when it was clear she couldn't keep her balance on her own. The garden around them seemed overwhelming as a soft breeze blew through the hanging trees. Obi-Wan could feel her trembling, even without his hands around her waist. He didn't know where to begin for a moment, convinced that she wouldn't accept his apology even if he attempted it, but he knew that it was his duty to do so, to uphold the title of a knight that had recently been bestowed upon him.

"Sabe," he said, softly, gaining more stability in his voice as he continued. "I'm so sorry. If I hadn't been—"

She, surprisingly, and unexpectedly, punched him in the arm…rather hard too, for a handmaiden. He winced and watched as she looked up into his face, defiantly forcing down her tears as she spoke.

"I told you to stop apologizing," she whispered, voice steady until the end. A lone tear escaped her left eye and she looked down, fisted her hands in the fabric of his robed arms, and leaned her head into his chest. As he stared down at her, he was left with a confused appreciation for the woman in his arms. He'd never met a woman, as young as she was, outside of the order, with as much resilience as she had, except, perhaps, for the queen of Naboo, herself.

Obi-Wan sighed, looked around to see if anyone had seen what happened, and was thankful to find that they were still alone. He had really made a mess of things now. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he had barely caught Sabe before she disappeared over the side, yet again another reason for his incompetence. He needed to be more attentive…in the present moment…like his master had always taught him.

"I'm dizzy," she said, against his chest.

He gently, picked her up again, and turned around. "I'll take you back to your room."

"No, don't. The celebration isn't over yet."

"Won't the queen be missing you?"

"She gave me permission to sneak away."

"Well, we can, at least, find you someplace comfortable to lie down and get your bearings back."

Sabe sighed against him and tried to relax.

"Sabe?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened to your shoes?"

"Oh…they're somewhere. I'll find them in the morning…rather security will. Don't worry about them, they always find a way back to my closet."

Obi-Wan smiled as he walked through the grove for nearly three minutes before he found an acceptable soft spot of grass. To him, it suited their needs for comfort and privacy. To her, it served her private romantic notions quite well. Before setting her down, he whispered in her ear.

"Is this acceptable, milady?"

Sabe rolled her eyes and let her head fall against his shoulder again, suddenly too tired to fight…physically. "Damn you and your selective memory, Kenobi."

Obi-Wan chuckled at the formality as he carefully set her down, momentarily stopping to remove and billow his robe into a make-shift pillow, and then laid her back on the grass, all the while, careful of how he guided her body. To her bewilderment, he placed a hand at her temple and closed his eyes. A strange warmth spread out across her body, and briefly, she wondered if it was due to Obi-Wan or her own raging hormones at his closeness.

"What are you doing?" she asked, bravely.

"Checking you for injuries."

"I'm alright."

Finally, his eyes opened, but instead of moving away, he placed his other hand on the ground beside her, his arm a bridge over her chest, face relatively close and relieved. "Yes, you are."

Night bugs flickered all around them. Sabe wondered if anyone was missing her at the palace, but couldn't find the strength to care. Obi-Wan wondered if Anakin would know that he was gone, but remembered that he'd been shielding himself too well for him to know what had been happening…at least, this is what he hoped. Presently, on both their minds, was the other. The celebration at the palace, which was presently winding down, couldn't be heard; all they could hear in the dark were their own breaths.

"You calmed me," she started. "While I was over that ledge, while you held me."

"You were frightened."

"I almost fell."

"Your mind couldn't focus."

"I was a hundred meters away from being crushed to death—"

"If the pressure from the fall hadn't have killed you first."

"I would have suffocated in darkness…" That thought sent a chill up her spine, which didn't go unnoticed by Obi-Wan.

"But you're alive. There's no sense in talking about such things now."

"I'm not a doll, you know."

The way her lips pouted after she finished speaking, caught his attention. It was no secret that Sabe was beautiful…or rather, would grow into a beautiful woman. But…she was beautiful now, as well. She was such a…contradiction. She was soft, but sharp. She surprised him as many times as he guessed exactly what she was thinking, without the force too. And…as hard as her exterior could be, she was beautifully fragile.

Now, Obi-Wan was really starting to get uncomfortable as he gazed down at her. Dark hair splayed across the grass, skin gleaming with life, and eyes that sparkled every now and again, Sabe was the definition of what he considered to be beautiful; a beauty that would one day fade, he thought, sadly. He held her life in his hands tonight, and though he'd done it countless times before with beings and people of more importance and allure, she had made a strange impression on him, left him feeling something new, something unexplored, something that he knew, deep down, was grazing dangerously close to where the limits of the Jedi Code lay…but did he care, right now, this moment, when they were the only two beings within half a mile…maybe more?

"You felt like one," he said. Her eyes widened slightly. His breath caught in his throat when he realized that he had actually spoken those words aloud. Quickly, he looked away. "That was inappropriate, I'm sor—" He stopped when he felt a delicate hand cover his lips.

"If you insist on apologizing to me," she whispered, slipping her other hand around his forearm. "Then do so…without words, this time."

She took her fingers away from his lips, but he caught them with his free hand, mulling over her words, and trying to ignore a strange feeling that was sparking all over his body. But the more he tried to wish it away to the force, the more it intensified. He let out a shaky breath, and before he knew what he was doing, he slowly pivoted his weight and leaned down, resting on his elbows, only an inch away from her face in the darkness. She hadn't moved an inch, and her mind was only welcoming.

Sabe had given up on trying to calm her beating heart when Obi-Wan started to close the space between them. Though she couldn't deny the hitch in her breath when he stopped and started to study her intently. His side pressed into her stomach, his chest was centimeters from touching hers, but his hands were woven with the grass, not in her hair. As if sensing her confusion, his left hand, suddenly, traced it's way along her jaw, stopped at her chin, and ventured up to touch her lips. Slightly parted, she stilled the breath that was about to come out when she felt his gentle fingers skimming the surface.

"This is what you want," he whispered, almost sad. "…isn't it?"

When Sabe found the strength to look up into Obi-Wan's eyes, she was surprised to actually find, in his face, what she thought she heard. "Yes?"

His eyes traveled up to hers, from her lips, and regarded her as if it would cost him his life. She was not ignorant of the Jedi and their ways, but she was still confused. Wasn't he attracted to her? Was she the only one feeling a spark in the darkness?

"I can't," he said.

The denial hurt, somewhere deep inside. And she couldn't speak for a few minutes. Effectively, she turned her head away from him, gazing across the grove, trying to find some solace in the night bugs that she had only just noticed surrounding them, casting their subtle glow in small clusters only a yard away. He sighed and moved away.

"No one will know—" she started.

"Sabe, you are young."

"I'll be old soon, too old to be considered desirable. They tell us in the orphanages, when we come of age, that if a girl before her seventeenth birthday isn't kissed, she's destined to live a lonely life."

A soft smile broke out on his face at the Nubian folktale. "You have time—"

"But I know no one, except you…"

What she was asking of him, it was impossible. But this wasn't what bothered him. He knew that she was aware of a Jedi's lifestyle. Not once did she ever ask him anything about his life. Everything she said in reference to the Jedi was correct, some things he hadn't expected her to know too, for someone so removed from the Core Worlds. It was painfully clear that she knew what she was asking of him, but was it possible that she didn't know of the consequences? It was reasonable, but still disturbing, because now, as he debated with himself how to proceed without hurting her too badly. He was also coming up with a way to deny to himself what he was being so insistently drawn towards. It was tempting; she was tempting. Only the harsh truth would be enough for the both of them.

"Jedi cannot love, Sabe," Obi-Wan said, as steely as he could. "Don't torture yourself with a dream."

A pause followed, and he bore the hurt he saw plainly take residence in her face. This was his fault, for leading her on, ever since Tatooine. The conversations had gone too deep. The friendship they had wasn't taken into consideration, wasn't handled properly. It was another painful reminder of his shortcomings as a Jedi, one that he was sure would be hard to forget, his maturity above hers. But before he could rise, she spoke, and he had to listen.

"I wasn't asking for love," she said, tears leaking down the sides of her face. "Only for hope."

What happened next, Obi-Wan couldn't remember clearly, but he was wiping her tears away, with all resolve lost to the gentle wind that stirred above them. He regarded her with compassion. She regarded him with cynicism, and turned her eyes away with a choked sob that she kept locked away in her chest. One hand brushed the side of her face, and the other gently urged her jaw upwards, catching her attention.

Then he delved deeper into her brown eyes, seeing her for the first time. On the grass under him was not a handmaiden, nor the decoy queen he had befriended on Tatooine. In the darkness, she was allowing him to see who she really was. He sighed. How much did he crave that simplicity within this one moment, to be someone simpler than who he had been asked to be for the sake of others, for the sake of a boy's future. As he decidedly leaned his head down to hers, all of this responsibility suddenly disappeared and he was left with the one teaching his master could never fully ingrain into him; to live in the moment.

"You don't have to cry for hope," he whispered against her lips.

And then he kissed her. The sensation of his lips alone sent her body into a frenzy. The overflow of thoughts and feelings tugged her eyes closed, making it easier for her to remember it years later when she would close her eyes for sleep. It was simple, chaste, but it left both in a daze when Obi-Wan finally pulled away, his blue eyes sparkling with hers in the dark. With one intimate gesture, he erased any fear that she once had of darkness, and of what trials her life would hold for her once they left the garden, returning to the real world.

"I'm sorry, Sabe," he breathed against her.

Nearly fourteen years later, she woke, a more jaded version of her younger self, but one that still held onto what she could only accept as the dream that he had warned her against. And, as he had warned—maybe predicted—her soul was, indeed, tortured.

So I decided to publish this as a one-shot instead of as a prologue for a longer story. I'm still considering writing a sequel that would turn into a multi-chapter story, but I would love some criticism on this one. Yay or nay?

-Rainsaber