Disclaimer: Alrighty List sibs, we all know this by heart now, but we gotta say it anyway.. sing it with me to the tune of Jesus Loves Me, This I know. Lucas Owns Star Wars this I know, Cause the Lawyers tell me so I just write for fun and show, From this Crud, I make no Dough.
Rating: NC-17, if I get the guts to post it.
Special Thanks: Libby for editing, Lynxie and Amber for willing to let me free range my bunnies on chat. They need exercise. And..um.. the smut is their fault! They made me do it. I was under the influence of some Heavy cold meds at the time!
Feedback: Good lord in heaven, Please.

Sallah Bint Chandra was not going to budge. She stared down the man holding the blaster pistol, despite the man's icy glare. Do as he liked, she was not going to move. Since she was his personal assistant, this wasn't the first time she faced down Jedi General Kenobi before. Though this was the first time he had drawn a weapon on her.

Her emerald green eyes snapping, she stared down the pistol, and tucked both of the thumb-wide braids of ice blonde hair on either side of her face behind her ears. She couldn't remember all of it, but she had been having a dream. And each time, she had woken with the determination to never leave her General.

"Shoot if you must, but I am not leaving. You may have had Jedi training but I am a born and bred desert nomad. I know how to survive in the sands better than you. You need me. If you do not let me stay next to you, I will camp one hundred meters from you." Sallah said in her faintly accented basic.

He simply stood there holding the blaster pointed at her head while they stood on the sands of Tatooine. What a pair they made! He cut a neat and commanding figure in his uniform.

She looked like a barbarian in her plain sand-coloured, loose shirt, pants, and boots, her theif's sword slung across her back.

He wore that uniform like it was sackcloth and ashes. He felt that he should wear it as a symbol of the immeasurable mistake he made in it. He had given the child to his brother for care and rearing; then announced to everyone's surprise that he would not be joining the rebellion. He would stay on the planet to protect the child. He was turning himself into a hermit for his misdeeds.

Like hell she was going to let him. "Sir, perhaps it would be best if you gave the blaster to your brother. He will need it to protect Little Luke." She continued ignoring the fact her life was threatened. For some reason she couldn't fathom, she knew with dead certainty he would never hurt her.

He blinked and lowered the blaster. Then he simply walked off to the waiting speeder. Sallah made double sure her Shamanic shields were in place, not daring to let anything leak through. She watched his back with carefully concealed longing. When he returned she was well under control again.

"May I recommend that we find a place to camp for the night?" she said calmly. "The twin suns are going to set in ninety minutes."

He simply nodded defeated, dulled azure eyes cast downward. The fading light turned his shoulder length hair from blonde to a waterfall of liquid gold and his tight dark grey uniform to black. Sallah felt her heart contract painfully at the picture he made. He reminded her of the god of victory at his complete defeat.

She led him down the canyon, and her expert eye saw a perfect place to camp. Secluded enough for privacy, open enough for escape. She insisted he sit while she did the work of setting up camp; it was her job as General's Assistant to see to his needs. She saw his face twitch in annoyance at this reminder of their respective ranks, a rank he felt he was not worthy of. He humoured her however and let her cook him supper, clean the remains, set up his bed and take the first watch. He didn't say a single word to her during that entire time. She watched his breathing slow to that of sleep before she let the first of her tears fall.

* How am I, a mere assistant, supposed to do this? * she thought dismally * This is Great One Fallen. He has been diminished, and only in the way the great and powerful can be, in both pride and self worth. He will no longer be the cocky general I knew. I would gladly give everything I am to see him whole again. He needs to see the truth, that he is not the worst of all. How can I make him see this? * she thought dismally.

She watched his chest lift and fall in the steady breathing of a light sleep. She knew him well enough to know that in a few hours the nightmares would start. And She would once again be awake to chase them away without him knowing. She reached out with her mind and gently nudged him further into restful sleep. She saw his handsome face in profile, framed by the silver starlight and felt her heart squeeze once again.

* My dearest General, how is it we have only known each other for a mere three years yet I feel as if I have known you forever? How is it that you make me feel like a satellite to your sun? I know I have no place, no RIGHT to feel this way about you. Someday you will be taken away from me or you will leave of your own volition and I will never see you again. * She let the fat, hot tears slip down her cheeks. But she continued to watch him, chasing away the nightmares, taking both pleasure and pain in the watching.

***

The next day they found a good place to camp on a more permanent basis. Sallah recognised the rock as holding a great deal of water. It would be extremely easy to build a machine to coax the water out of the rock. She had told him this once, in that long ago time. It was a break in the fighting and they were relaxing together that evening. He laughed saying it was not possible, it would be like squeezing blood from a stone. Now he simply worked silently along side her, following her lead. Within two weeks, they had built the frame of the house and Sallah travelled to the Lars residence to ask for supplies.

"Lieutenant Chandra!" Beru said astonished as Sallah appeared at the door.

Sallah smiled and bowed "Call me Sallah please. There is no rank between us. How is Little Luke?"

Beru held up the cubby, blonde haired, blue-eyed cherub. Sallah extended her hands and took Luke in her arms. Luke giggled as she tickled his tummy and cooed at the baby. He seized one of her braids and started to suck on it greedily. She became very glad the rest of her hair was cut to her jaw line; Luke would probably be pulling it out by the chunks. She swung her other braid into his nose so the feather hanging off of it tickled his nose and the clear beads rattled. He let go of the first and tried to grab the second, but she was too quick. She tossed him into the air and he squealed with delight. Then she handed the baby back to Beru as Owen approached.

"Good day, Miss Chandra. How are you?" he asked gruffly but friendly

"I am well sir. I hope to get the supplies for the hut. It is now ready for the electronics to be installed. We do not need the Vaporator." She said simply "We found an alternate source of water."

He raised an eyebrow, "Really? Care to let us in on the secret?"

She shook her head, "You couldn't grow where it is found. Keep the Vaporator for your own use. The rest we need."

"I should drop those by this afternoon. Can I give you a lift?" he asked

"No thank you, I prefer to walk." She said simply. With that she bowed reverently to both of them, took a beaded father from her hair, handed it to Luke who took great delight in the new toy, turned on her heel and left.

***

Years of living in the desert had allowed her to develop the trick of running in the desert heat. She did so, enjoying the feel of her ground-devouring lope along the sands. She climbed to the rock face to the top of the canyon. When she arrived, the suns were just dipping below the horizon staining the sands and rock auburn, ruby and cerise. She felt tears sting her eyes; now she should be finishing her sword lessons, hearing the littles laugh through the camp, seeing the riders coming in from their patrols and preparing for her lessons with her Shaman Teacher. Instead here she was, without tribe and only a wierdling outlander as her companion. Things should be so different.

She dropped to her knees and stared across the Dune Sea. Reaching with her mind she longed with all her heart that the Gods have kept her tribe. * Please gods and goddesses... hold them close. *

<<Foolish Child.>> Sallah heard. It was gravel like and harsh, but affectionate and the one voice she longed to hear. <<Do you think we would forget you?>> It was the voice of her Shaman teacher, from so long ago, speaking directly into her mind.

Sallah looked up to see her Shaman teacher floating before her, looking a little younger than she did when the raiders came. Sallah finally found her own voice. "Bright lady...I..."

The Shaman laughed, her image rippling with her laughter. <<Peace my student. I know your heart is troubled. Perhaps you should unburden.>>

"My lady, I am worried about the one in the hut. He slips farther and farther away every day. I don't know how to stop it," she whispered.

<<But that is not all. I see you... care... for him.>> she said softly.

Sallah nodded "I love him. I know it's impossible for him to love me. If he finds out that I care, it would equate to treason. I can't ever let him know."

The old woman cocked her head, her emerald eyes unblinking. <<Your best will be good enough to heal him child. You are wiser and stronger than I think either of us gave you credit for. You have an old soul child. As for your loving him, I see no wrong there. I am glad you have opened your heart to the world again.>>

With that, her teacher simply smiled, mentally embraced her student and was gone, the soft smell of desert blooms following in her wake.

***

Sallah walked into the room and stood at attention. She saw Kenobi sitting at the table contemplating his cup of tea. She saluted him and waited at attention.

He looked up at her and stared blankly for a few seconds. "Why?" he croaked, his normally musical Tenor with soft inner core accent harsh with disuse.

She stared into his sapphire blue orbs for a few seconds, struck completely dumb. He was talking. Those eyes were seeing her! They looked outward instead of inward! "Why what, sir?" she asked

"Why do you still stand by me? Even after all my failures and the suffering I have caused the Galaxy, you still give me every ounce of respect that you gave me when I was a commander. I want to know why." He asked softly

She tilted her chin at him defiantly, "Someone has to believe in you, General, even if you won't let anyone else believe in you, including yourself."

He sighed, "Don't call me that. I am not a General anymore."

She cocked her head at him curious, "Jedi Master then."

He groaned and buried his face in his hands "Don't call me that, don't EVER call me that! I FAILED Chandra," he burst out, "I failed as a General. I let down the Republic and let the SITH take over the Galaxy. I failed as a Jedi. I failed to train Anikin properly and as a result I failed my master."

The last he choked out in despair. She felt her heart twist as she saw tears finally start to drop. His tears were a release that was long overdue. He continued brokenly, "Chandra, are you blind? I am a failure and not deserving of any comfort or company. Why, even after all I have done, do you continue to stay? Why do you still stand by me?"

She walked to his chair, got down on one knee and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his head into her shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He shook as his body was wracked with violent grief. He sobbed into her shoulder so hard she was half-frightened he would fly apart. He had barely eaten since they landed on Tatooine. He was thin as a rail and felt as fragile as spun glass.

When the sobs trailed down to shudders and gasps she loosened her grip allowing her to stroke his back and rock him. She started whispering to him words of comfort in her native language. The liquid syllables spoke what couldn't be said in any other language. The sounds of comfort were what needed to be heard, not the words themselves. His grip relaxed slowly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a clean silk cloth and dipped the cloth into the cool pot of water that was once hot for tea. She pulled back to tenderly wash his face of the hot tears.

His breathing evened out and he accepted the cool cloth gratefully. When she was done and he had stopped shaking, she adjusted her stance so she had one arm over his shoulders and he had one around her waist. "Now, my friend, let me re-heat the water for tea and let us see if we can work through some of the heart troubles, yes?"

He nodded and released her. She stood up and put the small teakettle back on the flame in the centre of the table. He continued to wipe his face with her cloth. His hands were shaking but he appeared calmer now. She sat in the chair next to him and spoke. "Now, shall we begin? What troubles thee?"

He sighed and spoke "I failed the republic. I am a Jedi, and I failed to see a Sith in our midst!"

She cocked her head "You are also mortal. The Sith have been in hiding for generations. I would think they would have learned how to hide their presence from the Jedi to survive for ten thousand years. You are not the only Jedi. If nine thousand, nine hundred, ninety-nine could not see one, why should you have been able to? As for them taking over the republic, could it be possible that this has been long time in planning? Given a thousand years, I know we could probably come up with a scheme to take over the republic as well as abolish one of its major institutions."

He stared at her as if she had spoken a thought that never occurred to him. Then he looked at his cup of tea she was pouring. "I failed my master. Anikin should never have been trained... or not trained by me."

Now she sat back in careful thought. "I do not think so. Is there a lesson that you missed teaching him? A lesson he did not learn?"

He shook his head "I can't think of any."

"Than you did not fail to teach. You gave your best, which is all anyone has a right to ask of you. Now, what about alternate paths? There, we encounter different problems. If you had never met Ani, you would still be here with the Queen of Naboo. If you met him but did not take him with you, that Tatooed creature in the desert knew about him, hence so did Sidious. If you had taken him back after the battle of Naboo, Sidious also knew of him by then. In fact, he knew about him then first hand. Once Sidious knew about him, the game was already over. But he needed to be trained by a Jedi, I think. He needed to know the good. I believe Ani is still there. If Sidious had gotten his hands on him earlier in life, he would be irredeemable. I know a part of him remembers; it has to! As to why he turned or if another Jedi should have trained him, there I do not think it is your fault. He was closely connected to the Force yes? So close that the Force probably affected him in ways he couldn't control or even see. You, not as sensitive, would not be affected. If the Sith were to take over, there would be a dark rising in the force, causing poor Ani to be affected. To prove it, was there any real reason for Ani turning?"

He stared at her for long moments, and then the answer she was praying for came "No."

He sat still after that. His gaze was focused inward again, only this time, it was analysis not self-accusation. She took this as an opportunity to watch him as dispassionately as she could. She saw his mind come to all the right conclusions. Finally he asked her "Chandra, how do you know so much?"

"To explain, I need to tell you a story of my people, a child really named Starsinger. Starsinger was a child like all the other desert children. At two, it was discovered she was to be made Shaman apprentice. She undertook her studies of sword and the divine with enthusiasm. At thirteen she was ready to take her lone journey. She was to wander the desert alone and live off the land. When she returned, she was to be a full apprentice Shaman. On the celebration night of her departure the Planet Pirates came. They had heard the Desert People had great wealth. For greed they struck down the tribe to a man. All except for Starsinger. No one noticed her eyes were glazed not in death but shock. She crawled out from under the pile of dead that saved her from notice and felt her heart and soul shatter. She burned the dead to send them to their destiny. While there she took her hair and cut it. Adding her clothing to the pile of hair she burned those and performed a Sundering. It is a ceremony. When someone has changed so much, their past too painful, they make their old life die and they begin anew as a new person. She changed her name from Starsinger to Forever Lone Wanderer, or Sallah Bint Chandra."

She paused as he gasped, "There is no one here named Starsinger. Sallah Bint Chandra stands in her place. But inside, Starsinger still weeps for her lost tribe."

He stood up, shocked. "I heard about that particular attack. That was six years ago. Sallah, that would make you nineteen now."

She nodded. "Yes it would."

He seemed to choke on his next question "Sallah, when were you born? Republic date and time."

She told him. He gasped a bit and sat down hard on his chair. "What is it?" she asked

He looked at her, staring in wonder. He reached out and touched her cheek "The same day. The very same time... I... Sallah... Childling, don't worry. Everything is alright. I just thought you were older... that's all."

She shrugged and shook it off. "I am going to get some sleep, Kenobi. I will see you in the morning."

Obi-wan remained sitting rather mind numb. His assistant had proven to be a font of wisdom in the past. But this went beyond anything he had ever dreamed possible. Her quiet intensity and steady presence have proven a balm to his spirit more than once. A balm he hadn't had since he was an apprentice...

He swallowed and tried to come to grips with the situation. First, she proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she knew damn well how the force worked. She knew theory with a depth that was nearly instinctual. Only a sensitive master could have that kind of understanding.

Secondly was her phrase, "Tattooed". Very few people knew about the attacker was a Sith, only the Jedi did. And among the Jedi, only he and Qui-gon were close enough to see the skin pattern was a tattoo. There were a thousand other signs. The way she drank her tea, the way she held him while he cried, some of her speech patterns.. They all pointed towards one thing.

The fact her birth was at the very moment of Qui-gon's death clinched it. He knew it was theoretically possible. There were stories of people coming back because of unfinished business. But the last recorded incident was before even Yoda's memory.

He remained sitting in his chair long into the night, trying to piece together his life as well as his heart.

***

Two days later, Sallah was installing the water system with Kenobi when he asked her "Sallah, you were Thirteen when the raiders came, but I only met you three years ago..."

"Four to the day now." She interrupted smiling.

He blinked, "You kept track?"

She chuckled, "Part of a Shaman's training is an infallible memory and an ability to see the cycle in all things. Your question was..."

His brow wrinkled, "What did you do for three years?"

She put down the tool she was working with, wiped her hands and sat down cross-legged in front of him while he knelt. "Justice," she stated firmly.

He reared back, "Justice, Sallah?"

She smiled slightly, "Yes, justice. My tribe was dead. Their lives were bought for a few paltry bolts of cloth and a few bags of gold. The raiders could not be allowed to go unpunished. I hunted them down, and killed them to a man."

She watched as Obi-wan turned pale and stared at her. She often wondered if he was related to any of her tribes, or if his ancestors were allies. Kee-no-bay was the word for Great one. "How, you were only thirteen..."

She laughed, "I was sixteen when I caught up with them. Until then I was training myself to fight. I may have been soul shattered, but I was not a fool."

"That's... cold blooded murder!" he gasped astonished. "That was revenge Sallah, not justice."

She smiled slightly. "No my friend. It was justice. They were rabid dogs. Their pirate clan was based on religion that involved a contest to see how much violence and pain they can inflict on their victims before they died. They were all addicted to Spice. Worst of all, they were obsessed with the idea of hurting. Their raids were religious enactments. There is nothing more unstoppable or dangerous than a religious fanatic. You shoot a mad dog, Delinda, before it destroys something or someone you love. You don't allow it to continue in hopes it will get better."

He looked at her. "I... remember that particular raid. We sent in a garrison to stop them."

She nodded, "The second I heard that I joined up with them. I demanded a place in their raid in return for information as to where they were; I knew the Pirate base better than the pirates themselves. Once I sketched out the map it became clear that an army couldn't penetrate their base without heavy losses, but a single person could. There was also no way of inducing surrender. They would cheerfully run themselves upon your sword simply to have a chance at your neck."

He nodded, now remembering the report. "The report said they had a volunteer, a local go in. The pirates were slain to a man."

She smiled, "They sent, essentially, one religious fanatic to deal with another. Fortunately, my gods were on my side that day. I survived and avenged my tribe's death. I do not remember those years or that raid very clearly until the last pirate fell beneath my sword. Then what ever held me frozen without soul was broken and I was allowed to live again, I was truly allowed to be reborn."

He stared at her for long moments while she looked right back at him with steady emerald eyes. "We all have our regrets, Delinda," She whispered. "Your regret lives and wreaks havoc on the galaxy, but it will release its power over your soul. All that you need, Delinda, is time."

She got up and walked out of the room, leaving him much to contemplate.

***

Sallah was enjoying herself more than she thought possible. After their talk she felt as if a great weight were lifted. She even pulled out some of her non-mourning silks from her pack. Right now she was wearing scarlet tunic with ice white pants, boots and laced vest. Her feathers and beads had come out to decorate her hair and vest fringe; her sword slung across her back. When she had walked into the living room that morning, Kenobi had stared and choked. He had never seen her in anything but her uniform or mourning silks. She had winked at him as she walked out into the desert sands. She looked like a true Barbarian Nomad. She was now babysitting little Luke. The Larses had gone over to deliver the last of the electronics to the hut, and Sallah had volunteered to give the default parents a break from taking care of the baby. It was entirely her pleasure; Luke looked like one of the tribe children she used to take care of.

Right now she was tickling his tummy as he tried to grab a hold of one of her braids. He squealed in delight as she rattled a toy at him. She placed it above his head and watched with pride as he rolled over and grabbed it. The communicator unit then beeped annoyingly. She absently rolled Luke onto his back and tickled him while she answered.

"Lars Residence." She replied as Luke grabbed one finger in both of his chubby hands and proceeded to suck on it.

"Miss Chandra?" Came Owen's voice, "How are you?"

She wiggled her finger in Luke's mouth, which made him get a better grasp on it and start to gum it. "I am well, and so is the little one. He has been fed and changed."

"Good, because my Brother is acting a little odd," Owen replied gruffly.

She blinked. "Please define odd."

"My brother has set a fire in front of the hut and is asking for you." He said simply

Sallah was only slightly surprised. "I will be right there. I am bringing the baby with me."

***

She arrived in the spare speeder just as dusk had fallen. She handed the baby to Beru and Owen, saw the fire but no sign of Kenobi. Finally he came from behind the hut carrying his grey uniform. He walked up to her and pinned her with his blue eyes. "I need your help, how do you do this?"

Sallah blinked, he wanted HER to perform it as Shaman? She started to protest but he cut her off, "Please Sallah, I need this. Please help me end this old life and give me a new name."

She bit her lip and nodded slowly, pinned by the fire in those blue eyes. She positioned him to stand by the fire facing it. She waved Owen and Beru over to her left and to her place across the fire from Kenobi.

She closed her eyes and called for the presence of those in the Other Place. She felt the stirrings of the forces of nature flow through her blood. Extending her palms towards the fire, she sent those energies into the flames to bless them. The flames surged accepting the blessing and steadied to a firm glow.

"There is one among us who wishes to end his old life. Let him step forward." She said simply. Kenobi walked forward to stand between her and the fire. "Do you understand what this means and under take it with full knowledge and consent?"

"I do." He stated

She walked forward and pulled out her sword, gesturing him to kneel facing the fire. He does so and she takes a hold of his hair. "Our hair symbolises our own soul. Fire purifies all things sending them back to where they came. To cut the hair is to cast aside to old life, to burn it is to purify it and send it home, therefore ending that life." With one swift stroke of her sword she cut his tail off. She placed the hair on the uniform, and handed the small bundle to Kenobi. He stood up and placed it upon the fire. The Purified Flames hesitated for a heartbeat before consuming the small bundle, leaving nothing but ash. Then he turned so he faced her, face glowing in the firelight. She looked at his short hair and decided irrationally that she like it that way.

"Obi-wan Kenobi was. There is no one of that name here. Now we have a man here without a name. Since he has not chosen a name for himself, here is the Shaman's choosing," she stated quietly, voice carrying on the powers that be. "There is a word where I come from, that describes a rather complex situation. Literally translated it means 'one who has suffered great defeat but is now waiting for a new chance at victory.'"

He looked positively horrified. She chuckled at the expression. "No, friend without a name, the one who was had a long enough name. The word is actually quite short. The word for 'Waiting for a New Hope' is Ben."

He cocked his head. It was as if he was trying to decide if he liked it or not. She didn't give him time to decide for she felt herself seized by the powers that be. The words now just tumbled out of her mouth; she had no way of controlling them. "Now, hear my second decision! The new one's quest relies on the old one's past. While I will let it be forgiven, I cannot allow it to be forgotten. Because of this his second name shall remain. Step forward now, Ben Kenobi."

Ben walked forward numbly as she reached her hands into the still burning fire and scooped out the hot ash. She placed the ash into his hands and said "Now scatter your old life to the winds and let all be forgiven, but never forgotten." He stared wide-eyed and slack jawed at her unharmed hands but turn to do as she obeyed.

He lifted his hands to the starry sky as the winds pick up. The winds always came. They could be in a locked sealed room and the Shamanic winds would come. They lifted the ash from Ben's hands. They swirled around him three times then disappeared into the night.

***

Upon re-entering the hut, Sallah turned to him nervously, "How do you like your new name, Ben?"

He cocked his head considering it. "I think I like it. It seemed so plain and ordinary when I first heard it. In my old life, I thought I was the best there was, and then later I thought I was the worst of all. Maybe being ordinary isn't so bad."

She smiled at him. The smile turned her from a simply pretty woman into exotically beautiful. He felt his heart stop and he barely heard her next words, "Takes a lot to figure out that 'may your life be interesting' is a very potent curse."

He got his bearings back, "Why didn't you tell me you used the Force?"

She shrugged, "It didn't seem important. My focus is in religious and healing aspects of it. Why? Was it important?"

He shook his head "No, it wasn't."

She gave him another one of her heart stopping smiles and bowed to him. "I am for my bed, I suggest you do the same. Speaking from experience, first night is interesting, informative and brings some closure."

Ben watched her retreating form until it disappeared into her room. He stood stock still watching her. Then he looked at the stone placed upon the shelf; it seemed to glow from the inside. He shook his head, wandered down the hall, stripped and threw himself into his bed in a fever thinking about all the things he wished he could do with her. Ben thought that he could never sleep with his mind racing around in little circles. To his intense surprise, sleep did overtake him.

***

Obi-wan wandered through a thick mist before coming out at the Naboo forest where he and his master had their last quiet talk. He felt his old robes on as well as his old Padawan haircut. He stared at the trees again until he heard a heartbreakingly familiar voice.

"It took you long enough to get here, Obi-wan."

He turned, frightened his master would somehow see that he knew that Sallah was him and that he had fallen in love with her, hard.

"Goodness Obi-wan, why would I mind?" He laughed, blue eyes sparkling with suppressed delight and laughter. He looked a little younger than he did at his death. "I am really rather flattered that you have taken to her so well."

"Well, she's you and..." he stammered out then sighed. It seemed like such a foolish fear now. "Master, I have a feeling things would have been a lot simpler if I didn't know. However, I do know, which now makes things infinitely more complex. She's you, yet she's herself. She is barely out of her teens, with a lot of growing up left to do."

Qui-gon smiled slightly but with warmth and approval. "True enough, my lad. I was not lying when I said you were wise, wiser than I was. I hope that I have learned better. I made a lot of mistakes with you Obi-wan. I would like to make them up to you. I owe you a lot."

Obi-wan shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. "Master, you owe me nothing."

His master cut him off by laying a finger on Obi-wan's lips. "This is the truth: I was cold and uncaring while you were growing up. Yet, you stood by my side through it all. By your sheer determination you helped me open my heart to the universe again. When it seemed you were making progress, I up and left you with a new apprentice. I never told you the one thing I was desperate to say because I was frightened. The fear you would leave or be taken away from me held my lips firmly in check."

Obi-wan simply stared at Qui-gon bewildered. "Master, I thought you knew you couldn't pry me from your side with a crowbar."

His master shook his head. "You don't understand. I was your master with a very stern council making all the rules. Like her you were young, barely out of YOUR teens, I was nearly three times your age. I wanted your decision to be because you wanted to, not because you felt you had to."

Obi-wan felt his jaw drop slack with shock. Then odd bits of his memory fall into place. His master rarely, if ever, touched him. Sometimes catching an odd look on Qui-gon's face. Finally, when he talked about a girl he knew, his master would grow oddly quiet...

Qui-gon nodded slowly as comprehension dawned. "Perhaps now there is a chance. " his master continued, "She is only a little less than half your age and there is no council, so you two can make your own rules. Not perfect, but close enough, yes?"

Obi-wan nodded slowly with a slight smile on his lips. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps there is a chance." Then his master reached out to trace the braid from his ear, down his jaw line, finally crooking one finger under his chin. Obi-wan felt his head tilt upwards as Qui-gon's lips descended to capture his...

***

"BLESSED WINDS OF FATE!" Ben cried out as he sat bolt upright in bed, shaking. Shock in his system was making him shake. After the shock faded, it was replaced by an odd delight. //He came back to me!// he thought in delight. //I knew he would never truly leave me!//

He heard the pitter-pat of bare feet on the stone of his floor. Soon, Sallah stood there in her oversized shirt and sleep pants staring at him. Her mathematically precise braids were slightly unkempt from sleep but otherwise she looked delightful. She was free of her feathers and beads. Her silver hair and smooth face gave her the odd look of being both ancient and youthful. Her skin has gone back to its natural golden sheen, making her look truly exotic.

"Are you alright?" She asked in her odd, lilting accent.

"Fine, fine." He replied. "Just a startling dream, that's all."

Her worried expression relaxed. "Tell me about it. During my first night I nearly jumped three meters off the bed when I woke up from mine. Do you wish to talk about it?"

He nodded and waved her over. She sat down on the edge of his bed. He watched her shiver in the cold night air so he immediately pulled her under the covers with him. She resisted a bit, but then relaxed when he just spooned up behind her. "I truly wish that I knew if Ani could be saved."

She chuckled "He can, I know it. When the Force swings back to the light's favour he will come back. Unfortunately, it will not be for a while and you cannot do it. It has to be someone he isn't guarded against."

"One of his children then." He said softly, pulling her closer enjoying her warmth. "I must say, I am infinitely glad I am NOT Anikin. His life is literally controlled by the Force to an extent I don't think I could tolerate."

He felt her smile "There is an expression where I come from that literally is 'Glorious destinies lead to Glorious Funerals.' I prefer the loose translation."

He lifted his head to look at her eyes, "Which is?"

She turned her head to meet his, "Sucks to be the chosen one"

He burst out laughing. His first real laugh in he didn't know how long. She giggled beside him as their bodies were wracked with mirth. Finally he was truly hit by her sight, feel and scent. His hand moved of it's own volition to trace one of her braids down to her jaw line, along to her chin. There he crooked his finger, tilted her face so his lips met hers...

***

Shock echoed through Sallah's body as his lips touched hers. In her shock her carefully wrought shields dropped and she felt him touch her mind and see her heart. The one place she didn't want him to see. Shock skipped right over fear and jumped into panic. She felt herself leap out of his arms like a bowshot and dove headfirst through his window. She turned her dive into a controlled tumble on the rocks. She popped to her feet in a heartbeat and started to run for the Dune Sea. Living on the desert as a child made a night run in her bare feet a challenge, but not impossible.

She felt his shock keep him frozen in place. In a few seconds her shields would be up so tight he wouldn't be able to sense her. In those few seconds she will have disappeared into the night, unable to be found by normal senses. * Gods and goddesses of my ancestors. Please keep him in shock for those precious seconds * She prayed fervently * give me that much of a head start. *

She flew across the sands on feet born of fear and shame. She arrived at the Lars just before dawn when she felt his first call // Sallah... //

She ignored it and caught Owen before he went to work and asked for her emergency pack back. He retrieved it. // Sallah come back // She winced. She had promised herself she would never leave him. But now she couldn't stay. She opted for something in between, hiding in the sands near him.

She steeled herself, and slammed up her shields tighter so she couldn't hear him. She changed into her wanderer clothes and started for the desert. After three days of wandering the desert, she found she couldn't keep the sound of his desperate calls out. She would feel his mind sweep her shields looking for her like brushes of feathers on her skin. Each time they would glide past. Suddenly, she felt a mental shout that if any of Vader's minions were in the sector they would have heard it. She weighed her options and decided to let him know she was alive and hoped that would satisfy him.

Hurriedly she dropped her shields. * Hush, they will hear! * She sent on a tight mental beam only for him. She went to slam her shields back up but he essentially put a mental foot in the door and refused to let her mind go.

//SALLAH! // Came his cry of mixed triumph and despair. //Sallah, come back to me. //

She gritted her teeth and felt tears spring to her eyes. He didn't hate her, which left only one possibility, pity. * Ben, please! I don't want your pity. Just let me to my misery. *

//The same way you left me to mine? // He asked ironically. //No Sallah, I learned better than that from the wisest person I know; who happens to be reacting right now with the mental capacity of a boiled vegetable. Don't you know that I love you? //

Her patience snapped * don't condescend to me or pity me! All I have now is the truth. You don't love me and you never can. For the love of my god don't LIE for my sake. I would rather freely have the truth in misery than bound in happiness by a lie. *

//But Sallah, I just told you I love you. It's the truth. I can't lie, not here. //

She mentally snarled back at him. She felt him pull back in surprise. Apparently he didn't think it was possible to project a rude gesture through the force. *LIAR, * she fired at him.

Suddenly he grew surly in return, //May you go to your vision of hell, you are a stubborn woman. Don't you KNOW it's impossible to lie Mind to Mind?//

He once again pulled back in surprise. Apparently he didn't know one could project a mental blink. * It's impossible? * She asked

He grew soft and tender in an instant. //It's impossible to lie here, yes. Didn't you know? //

She blushed, * No. I was taught that here was the most sacred place since only gods and those god-touched can see. To lie here was to blaspheme. I never tried; I didn't feel like becoming a piece of charcoal. *

He sent her a pulse of encouragement, //Try it.// At her appalled gasp he chuckled // Would it satisfy you if I tried it?// She sent a mental nod and then she heard two things at the same time. One was // My name is Ben Kenobi, I am forty-one years old and a Jedi Knight.// The second was //My name is Ben Kenobi, I am twelve years old and a holostar.//

She bit her lip in thought, * So, in order to lie, one must think the truth to know that it is a lie. Therefore, mentally, one hears both the truth and the lie. *

She felt a wave of affection and pride from him. //Right, you are quick! I love you. See, no lie echo!// She sat on a rock numb with shock. //What's wrong love?// he asked, worried.

She shook her head, * I... just never allowed myself to contemplate you actually caring back. I... am not sure what happens next. *

There was a gentle phantom caress on her right cheek, as if he were brushing his fingertips along her cheekbone. // I have hopes of us starting at where we left off. Come back to me. I will happily vow to spend the next eighteen to twenty years showing you. // Then came a very tender impressed kiss on her lips. //Hurry back, you might make it in time for dusk!//

She sent a mental affirmation to him, * If I am going to come back the fastest way, I need all my faculties. *

//I understand, now hurry!// He sent with his last impressed kisses on her forehead, cheek and lips and let her go reluctantly.

On her journey home, Sallah honestly believed her feet never touched the sands.

***

When she arrived at the hut, she had hoped to see him waiting at the door. He wasn't there, and her heart fell. It was just dusk, the last of the light greys of the sun was on one side of the horizon with the stars beginning to show on the other side. She stepped through the hut door and crept inside softly. He wasn't in the living room. In fact there wasn't a light on in the hut. It seemed abandoned. She felt crest fallen. She wandered back in near tears to go to her room when she passes Ben's room.

"Foolish child," his musical tenor chided affectionately. "Do you honestly think I could leave you now? Besides, I did say I hoped we could start where we left off."

She tuned to see him lying on his bed staring out his window at the stars. He rolled over and looked at her. She felt pinned by his blazing azure eyes. They seemed to glow from the inside with more light and heat than the twin suns at noon. She swallowed hastily in nerves. He stood up, and paced slowly over to her. The silver of the Starlight reflected off his body turning harsh angles fluid and casting soft shadows. He was dressed in his loose sleep pants and sleep shirt. He looked like a statue of a god carved in the finest Alabaster by the hand of a master artist. She had no idea that someone could look so Ethereal and...

...earthy all at once. The short silver waterfall of her hair and the soft feline-like features proved a delight to the eyes. Her barbarian look appealed to his civilized sensibilities. The emerald eyes stared up at him in very real fear. It was as if she wasn't sure what he expected of her.

Oh dearest of the gods. It had never occurred to him. He heard tales of what those Planet Pirates did on their raids. He wanted to kick himself for not realizing it earlier. He could feel equal parts fear and desire rolling off of her. She was probably frightened by her own desire.

He reached her and cupped her face in his hands as gently as if he handled spun glass art from Alderaan. "Are you sure you want this? We have time, we can wait."

She closed her eyes as if in thought. When she opened them, he felt a bit of her fear had gone. "Yes, just go slow. I'm not sure how..."

He pulled her into his arms nodding his understanding. He just simply held her there, to let her get used to closeness. Her head tucked neatly under her chin. Go easy, go slow. The more comfortable she is, the better she learns their bodies, the better the experience.

It had been a very long time since he has been with anyone as inexperienced as her, and he had never been with anyone whose past was as damaged as hers...

He started to chuckle. She stiffened in his arms and seemed to shrink in on herself a little. He looked down to see she was frightened he was laughing at her. He stroked her hair gently and smiled, "Love, I don't know who is more frightened of this, you or me."

She managed a tremulous smile and tucked herself right under his chin, wrapping her arms around his ribs like a child. He rested his hands at her waist and was relieved to find she doesn't stiffen or pull away. Ye gods, how fast was too fast?

Then he felt her mind brush against his. It was like a floral breeze on Coruscant, entirely unexpected, equally welcome. He caught it and held it gently not wanting to frighten her. * I... I thought it might make things... easier for us both... if we stayed linked. Words won't work now, this will prevent... misunderstandings, * came her lilting soprano. He was elated at her idea. He would know her fears as soon as she did and be able to circumvent or ease them. She would know he told the truth and what he expected of her. Considering her people thought the mind was sacred ground and where the only true freedom lies, it was an incredibly intimate gift. *Someone very wise, my Shaman in fact, said that happiness was worth giving up a little bit of freedom for. She also said that love must live free. I want to be free of my fear. My love for you is strong enough to conquer my fear, but it can't do it all at once. It needs time and help. I am willing to give up a little bit of freedom in my thoughts for my love to be free. *

//And I thought you said words fail?// He teased her gently. He kissed her silky mane and breathed in her scent. //Show me your fear, love. I will help you any way I can.//

She opened her mind and he saw the fear that was eating away at her soul like acid. One deep dark one was the fear that he would up and leave her, or someone would take him away. It was one that had no basis that she could understand. Echoes of the past would not do. He washed it away with a gentle stream of love from him. There was nothing in heaven or earth that could pry him from her now, and there was no one to take him away. The other fears were based on very real experiences. It would be actions and words that would make those dissolve. He realized at that moment how much the both of them were shaking. Then he felt her turn her head and her lips touch the hollow at the base of his neck.

The touch shot through him like a blaster bolt. He suddenly realized controlling himself now was going to be the most difficult task he has ever undertaken. To his intense surprise, she wasn't repelled by this knowledge. So far as she was concerned, she has just done something right. She felt that jolt of pleasure as much as he. He heard her laugh with delight and triumph. Why that little minx...

He twined one hand in her silky white mane and tilted her head back to receive his kiss.

Her laughter at her victory changed to a moan as his lips connected, soft and strong, with hers. His lips slid and teased gently on hers. His hand in her hair was gently massaging her skull and neck, either that or feeling her hair. Knowing him, probably both. The hand at her waist wrapped around to press her closer to him and explored her back, side and buttocks. His tongue suddenly traced the line where her lips parted, and she gasped at the sensation.

Ever the tactician, he took advantage of the situation and invaded her mouth with his tongue and started to explore. She groaned loudly at the sensation, sliding her own hands up his back and into his hair. She pressed his mouth closer to hers. She wanted more. She felt giddy with anticipation, her fear slipping to become a half-forgotten memory. Her link showed her what she was doing right, exactly how much he enjoyed it and some possibilities on what he would like in the future. She also knew his goal was for her enjoyment, as much -- if not more -- than his own. She pushed her own tongue into his mouth to explore, and was rewarded by his answering groan and convulsive tightening of his arms.

She took positive delight in the physical sensations that echoed in her body and echoed down their link. For an eternity it seemed all that they did was kiss and touch. She realized that he was going to allow her to make all the first moves. Now instead of being afraid she would somehow mess up, she wanted to explore. His mind and body were unconsciously sending her some interesting ideas. She, ever the intrepid explorer, removed her mouth from his, and the both took in a lungs-full of fresh air. She started to nibble down his jawbone. His breathing came in short gasps and she found she could drive any coherent thought out of his mind by doing this. She reached his earlobe and licked the patch of skin under it. Having reached her destination she tried to think about where she wanted to go now. While she did, her warm breath exhaled on the patch she moistened.

He shuddered at the feel of her breath on his neck. Then something in his mind went snap. He picked her up and carried her to his bed. He laid her on it and tumbled in beside her. His hands started to explore her body. They started at her face as he feasted his eyes on the golden skin and emerald eyes. He traced every feature before travelling down her neck to her shoulders. He thought he was going to encounter course fibres but was surprised to find she was wearing silk. Pure, knotted, softly frayed, silk. He shuddered and let the flow of the silk direct his hands. When he thought she was going to be nervous as he explored new territory, he would distract her by nipping at her neck or chin. When he brushed over her breasts the first time he thought she would shy away.

Instead, she arched directly into his palm with a groan that bypassed his ears and landed right in his groin. He thought she was amazing. She showed no fear of him now. Then he was reminded of their link by the rush of pure pleasure as he cupped her breast and massaged it. She knew his motives and his thoughts in this. She knew he would rather kill himself than hurt her now. Their minds were so entwined it was getting hard to tell where one ended and the other began. What surprised him was that neither of them cared.

He felt her hands start their own shy exploration as they drifted up his arms and along his chest. AS her fingers grew bolder she began to unbutton his sleep shirt. No sooner had the idea of fearing she wasn't doing this right appeared did he project the wonderful sensation of her undressing him.

She gently pushed the cotton off his shoulders and explored his skin with her hands.

"Remind me to ask the Tribes to send me a set of silks for you. Cottons and wool are inappropriate for desert living." She said as she tossed the offending article aside with a shudder of disgust. He grinned at her as she pushed him onto his back and she straddled him. She explored his bare torso with her palms eagerly. Then with light kisses nipping at his skin. The living warm flesh was so wonderful; it was heavenly to feel the muscles jump beneath her touch, as if trying to get closer. His scent and warmth was surrounding her, making her feel intoxicated. His harsh breathing and moans of delight sent shivers up her spine.    

"I can see the benefits of silks," He whispered hoarsely. "They feel better on the skin." She was drunk with delight. She was feeling his pleasure as much as he was. When she rocked her hips forward to reach his shoulders she felt him groan and his hips moved unconsciously. She rocked again in experiment, this time it were half-choked whimpers that left his lips. With the feeling of an explorer who has just made a remarkable discovery, she slid her body down his. She quickly removed his sleep pants. She propped her head up by her elbows next to his waist and surveyed him fully from her vantage point. As she travelled up to meet his eyes, she smiled into them. "Hava-le lescha, Delinda."

"What?" he croaked out.

She cocked her head "You are beautiful, my Beloved," she translated.

He smiled at her until he noticed the impish look in her eyes. Then he saw one hand was missing from under her chin and found where it was poised... (sent april 20)

Her hand landed on his knee and travelled up his thigh. All the while she kept her head on propped in her palm watching his face. She watched his face go slack with shock as her fingertip traced up his thigh and with a feather light touch, used the flat of her fingernail on the underside of his erection, from base to tip.

He gasped and his head dropped back to the pillows with a groan as she continued her light-as-a-feather touches. She continued so long, he wanted to scream with frustration. Gods, how could that woman remain so CALM when he was projecting all his desire down their link so hard he was ready to scream? His entire body positively wept for release.

He heard a slight chuckle down their link, * Delinda, part of my training was to experience life through the minds of others. By the time I was twelve had I lived my teacher's memories and the memories of past Shaman. I have a great deal of experience in separating my own sensations from that of others. *

He had a mental image of what he desperately needed, and before he could react she gave it to him. She damn near made him levitate off the bed when her mouth descended on him. Gentle kisses, soft teasing nips with her teeth alternated with her taking him fully. He writhed in agony on the bed nearly ripping the sheets to shreds. He felt his control fall away, helpless beneath her ministrations. He felt tears sting his eyes as he journeyed irrevocably near release; he wanted to share this with her.

*Trust me, * came her voice *You are. You promised you would show me what happens next. Don't you dare go back on it now! *

` Her mind firmly locked with his, he couldn't hold back any longer. He rocketed into the stratosphere with a shout. His body spazmed as the sensations rocked him. When he came back to himself slowly, she was gently nipping her teeth back up his body to his face. Upon reaching his face she pulled back and gave him a worried look.

Her hand brushed his cheek, and came away wet. //Consider the tears a compliment.// he sent to her softly. //oh gods, I am still twitching!// With that, she started to kiss away those tears. As his ragged breathing came under control and the echoing shudders slowed he reached up shakily to still her.

"That was supposed to be for you," He whispered a bit in despair.

She smiled into his eyes, "Trust me when I say, Delinda, that it was."

He pulled her down to lie curled up on him as he stroked her hair and back. "Delinda. You say that word. What does it mean?"

She traced the hallow at the base of his neck, "It means beloved."

He kissed the top of her head in response, "I like it. For a barbarian your language is so elegant and musical."

"I would teach it to you if you wish. However, it is very complex. We have twenty different words for sand." She said contentedly curled up against his body. He felt her utter relaxation and peace.

"People say that a language names the most what matters to it the most." He said softly

"We have sixteen words for love. Delinda is beloved in a romantic sense. LeShalla is love in a spiritual sense, I could go on." She continued.

"Please do." He wanted to know, and he also wanted to distract her until he could move again.

She started to teach him the basics quietly in her wonderful, soft soprano. Her accent became thicker as she spoke in her own language more. He followed as best as he could, but her accent was driving him to distraction.

***

She was curled up contentedly around his body, not caring a jot about the rest of the world. As far as she was concerned, everything was right. She tried to teach him as best as he could but his tongue was not co-operating.

"No, Delinda, Thlc'late! Touch your teeth with the tip of your tongue then the roof of your mouth with the middle forming a pocket," she said.

"Talclate." He tried

"Thlc' Thlc!" she opened her mouth wide to try to get him to see. "What kind of desert nomad will you make if you can't say the word for 'Tent?'"

"Show me how you did that again?" He asked.

She demonstrated, opening her mouth wide, but instead his lips sealed over hers and his tongue invaded her mouth. She moaned and forgot trying to teach him. The soft insistent stroking of his tongue on her own made her forget the rest of the universe. His hands tangled in her hair and he rolled her over so he was on top.

"I can see that I am going to need practice in your native tongue. And to do that, my tongue needs to learn new methods of moving. Let's see what we can do about exercising it shall we?"

He gently kissed her again as he slowly divested her of her silks. She always enjoyed the feel of her native clothing, but she never thought she would enjoy them being taken off before. He slipped them off inch by painfully slow inch, making sure to touch her as it was exposed. She was shaking and gasping for breath when he was done. The feel of skin against skin was heavenly. She felt a gentle pulse of love from him and she pulled back to look into his eyes.

"Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this?" he asked hoarsely.

She didn't answer; she couldn't. Not with his mouth dancing down her body like that. His hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere, moving ever so slowly. Untouched skin crying out for him, touched skin burning beneath his hands and lips, explored skin seared but aching for more.

Then his face angled a certain direction and she couldn't help it. She giggled and babbled something barely coherent. He raised his head and asked "What?"

"Your eyelashes!" she giggled, "They tickle me."

His face changed to mischievous. "So Sallah, you are ticklish..." Then tormenting fingers attacked her, making her thrash and laugh hysterically beneath him. She tried to get a hold of him to return the treatment but she found she couldn't. His years of training made him far more physically agile. Finally, while tears of laughter streamed down her face they stopped and she found him hovering over her with a contented smile on his face.

"I don't think I have ever heard you laugh freely like that." He said sighing, "It was very, very good to hear." Then his mouth descended sweetly on hers and she felt a hand on her lower abdomen start to journey south. "Easy love, don't be afraid. Stay open to me."

With that, he slipped the hand down, and cupped her, his fingers poised to explore. She couldn't make up her mind whether she liked the feeling at first. Then the gentle exploration turned to stroking and in seconds she was purring her contentment. The purr turns to moans as he leaned down from her lips to suckle her breast. The moans turn into something deeper and more feral as a finger slipped inside and slowly began to pump.

Waves of pleasure were crashing over her. She yelped, her body panting and sweating as if she had run across the sands at high noon. Yet she felt something was beginning to build inside of her. Like her body was instinctively preparing for something, the same wonderful something she felt echo down from the man above her. Now she was experiencing it first hand.

She wasn't prepared for the sensation of floating and falling. She reached for his shoulders trying to get a grip on something solid. It wasn't enough, one by one her other sensations dropped out of focus. She was lost.

Then she felt him whisper in her mind, //I'm here love, hang on. You won't be lost.//

She held on to him mentally while her body exploded in pleasure so intense it was almost pain. Her body was wracked with tremors and her voice cried out harshly. When she came back aware of herself she found him kissing away her tears of shock while her body still twitched.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly

She couldn't manage speech, so she resorted to nodding slowly and kissing his cheek. It just couldn't get any better than this..

//Are you willing to bet on that one?// Came a soft, sensual purr in her mind. She was aware that he was now on top of her again, evidence of his arousal pressing against her thigh. She gasped as his mouth attacked hers. When they came up for air she discovered that he was inside her, and she didn't even remember him...

//That was the general idea,// came his laconic voice. //I knew you would be frightened then, so I distracted you.// With that he flexed his flanks and she half gasped, half choked, and wondered how in the name of all her gods did he manage to distract her from THAT?

//Believe me, It wasn't easy!// Came a chuckle. He kissed her lips tenderly and asked, //ready?//

She responded by wrapping her legs around his hips and arching into him. Groaning, he responded with //I will take that as a yes.// Then he started to thrust.

She felt the same float-fall; the same sensation of building, only this time there was something more. It was as if she has been waiting to come home for an eternity and she was finally within sight. Her moans were becoming pants as he built up speed. She arched against him and ran her hands down his back causing him to groan in response and arch his back up. His head looked down to meet her eyes and she gasped as she fell into his aqua pools, the pupils so dilated there was only a fine ring of sapphire left. She felt as if there was something missing in her spirit that she finally found again.

When the band finally snapped over them both and let them fall together, she drowned happily in their spirits, minds and joy, riding wave upon wave of wonder and pleasure. When it was all over, she used what little strength she had left to curl up next to him and languidly drifted from orgasm to sleep.

***

She woke up the next morning her head pillowed on his chest. She looked up into his face and fought her urge to giggle in happiness. He looked so peaceful, relaxed and happy. She has rarely seen him look that carefree, even in sleep. She had seen some pictures of him as a child in the Temple where he looked like that. One when he was about twenty always made her smile. Someone was taking candid photos in the temple and had caught a photo of him playing a kind of follow the leader game on an obsticle course. He was the leader in this part and was running happily. There was a line of adults in the back of the photo, and one always made her look at him twice. He was tall, with long brown hair streaked with silver. He had an odd look in his eyes as he watched the course that she couldn't quite place. It looked so familiar...

She shrugged off her thoughts and placed a careful kiss on Ben's mouth. He murmured in his sleep a bit and woke up slightly. //Sallah?//

She chuckled * Just getting up to make breakfast for us. Go back to sleep. *

He mumbled back //You need to learn the pleasures of sleeping late, my Sallah. Your internal alarm clock was always too accurate for my taste. Why did you wake me to tell me? //

She grinned and sent him a pulse of love *Tradition. It is impolite to leave one's partner without their knowledge. *

//Just as it is tradition to express one's delight in your partner after the fact? // he sent back on a wave of amusement and remembered delight. // I think I can come to like your traditions. It is rather rude to roll over and forget after the moment is gone. Alright, I know you are getting up, thank you for letting me wake up with you. Now may I continue my sleep?//

She laughed softly and kissed him tenderly. * Sleep, Delinda. I enjoy watching it. *

He reached up and caressed her face with closed eyes then drifted back to sleep. She got up with a bounce, and quickly showered and dressed. She looked at her desert clothes and opted for her festival silks. For some reason she felt the urge to prance about in bright feathers for him today. She selected a dark purple tunic, fringed black leather vest and boots, and a flowing black silk skirt. She braided in her silver and crystal beaded feathers with a smile. She looked in the mirror and saw there was no longer a lingering sadness on her features. Perhaps Lone Wanderer was no longer an appropriate name for her.

She bounced out of the room into the kitchen. A glint of silver caught her eye, and she recognised it as Ben's lightsaber. She picked it up out of idle curiosity. It was odd; normally when she picked up a new weapon it took a while for her to adjust to the weight and feel. This felt right in her hands immediately. She gripped it firmly then turned it in her hands to examine it. For some reason she felt...

"You are being ridiculous Sallah, go back to making breakfast!" She muttered to herself as she turned into the kitchen and began to cook. Just as she was reaching for the ingredients something moved on her hip. She looked down puzzled to see she clipped the saber to her belt. She didn't even remember doing it. She took it off her belt with a resolve to put it back when something glinted near the kitchen in the sunlight.

She walked over to it and saw it was a rock, black with a fiery heart in it worn smooth by the river. River? Where did she get the idea the rock came from a river? She picked it up, it too felt familiar in her hands. Perhaps because it was worn smooth... no it didn't look like any of the wind smoothed rocks on the desert. Why did she think it came from a river from her home planet?

She froze. There WERE no rivers on her home planet. It was like Tatooine, only the occasional spring with polar caps of ice. She started to shake, but forced Shaman calm on herself to probe the memory. She closed her eyes as she remembered seeing sun glinting off a river. Since the river water was clear and the rock bottom dark the surface was a mirror causing the water to look like a river of light. He felt himself bend down to pick up one particular rock that held appeal to him.

HE? HIM? She felt the memory shatter with a mental flash of panic. She once again forced Shamanic calm and then stared at the saber again as she put the rock down. She knew, deep in her soul, the answers to both mysteries were related.

Screwing her courage to the sticking point she fired up the saber. The musical hum of the saber blended perfectly with the vibrations that travelled up her arms as she stood in guard position. The hum and vibrations almost instantly slipping her into Sword Dance trance. She licked her lips and started her favourite dance, the one to the moon.

The saber hummed and whirled around her with ever increasing speed. Soon she let go of thinking of the steps and just enjoyed the feel of her muscles moving and the musical sound of the sword. Suddenly she realized she wasn't doing the Moon Dance any longer, but one she didn't know.

She finished with a reverse blindside sweep she didn't think was possible without slicing your own ankles off. She turned to see Ben staring at her with a shocked look on his face.

"Obi... Ben... I..." she managed to stammer out before the weight of her confused memories crushed her consciousness into darkness. (Sent April 27) Ben moved fast to keep Sallah from crashing into the ground. He had hoped never to have to tell her. A vain hope, but one none the less. He had woken up to the sound of a lightsaber being turned on. He turned the corner to see Sallah doing one of her sword dances. Relieved to see she was just trying out his weapon. Then he felt the blood completely leave his body as her stances changed from the strike and run tactics of her people to the stand and fight of his. Her steps changed until he recognised the kata. It was Flying Falcon. The last kata anyone learned as a Padawan. It was a kata that the better it was done, the less energy it took. Padawans usually end up dripping with sweat at the end and wheezing, completely drained. Knights wound up sweating and tired, but not exhausted. Masters used it as a warm-up. Qui-gon was the only man who could do it without breaking a sweat.

As Sallah finished the Kata and turned to him, he saw she wasn't even breathing hard.

He carried her back slowly to his bed, trying desperately to think of something to say to her when she woke up.

***

Sallah felt herself walking along the sands of her home, but it was the sands of the Other Place. The place where Shaman can go to meet each other, no matter how far apart they are in real life. She had walked these sands first at age twelve and often returned to them for peace and meditation. She saw her Teacher appear before her. //Come child, it is time for your final lesson.//

Sallah followed her teacher to a giant loom in the middle of the desert. She blinked at the sight. What was this? //This, child, is the Loom. The threads of everyone's soul is here, it is the tapestry of time. We Shaman can visit it for gathering needed knowledge. This is here so the lessons of time are never truly lost. Touch it.//

Sallah walked forward and saw the glowing tapestry, the wonderous patterns made from glowing threads. She saw a thread that appealed to her, a bright and glowing blue one. IT was twined with a green one now, bound up so closely it was as if the two threads were made one.

She saw where they were knotted together first and she touched the tiny knot. Suddenly her mind was flooded with the image of her sprawled out under Ben as he pumped into her, both gasping for breath and in the throes of ecstasy. She took her finger away and stared at the thread. Her teacher was gone now, knowing that the Sallah learned best if left to puzzle things out for herself. She followed her thread back, seeing her life. Just at her birth the thread jumped out of the tapestry. She frowned. She has seen threads disappear and reappear behind the front, but never a jump over the top. She touched where the thread before her birth...

He stared up at his apprentice as Obi-wan gently took his head into his lap. The hole in his chest had cauterised instantly. He felt pain, but nothing compared to the pain of having to leave his Padawan. Obi-wan held him close, begging him with his eyes not to die. He wanted to tell him, he could feel the words bubbling up past every layer of fear that held them in check. The council couldn't take him to task if he dies. No repercussions. But one look at his Padawan made the words choke back once again. Obi-wan needed to remember him as his master. Not anything else. He said something about training Anikin. He wouldn't trust anyone else to the job.

Obi-wan nodded and promised. He felt himself reach up to try and touch Obi-wan's face... just once...

She blinked as she released the thread. So... She then followed the two threads back and saw even more lives. Some times they just met, passing each other briefly. All other times, SOMETHING always got in the way of them, be it class, gender bias, location, countries, rivalling houses, what have you. Anything to separate a pair of lovers was there. She had to laugh. Maybe the gods let them jump and remember to actually prevent them from making the same mistakes. Maybe she shouldn't question the gods.

She made her way back to her body with a lighter heart.

Ben watched as the deathly pale colour on Sallah's face returned to it's normal color and the beautiful green eyes flutter open. He was kneeling at her side in an instant. "Sallah... Are you..."

To his intense surprise she smiled at him, "I am fine, Ben. I know."

He blinked in surprise, what? The little minx then laughed at him and kissed his nose. "Sallah... I..."

She cocked her head, "Delinda, ever that think this lifetime is not the first for you either? Perhaps we have spent many lifetimes trying to get this right. I think we finally have. Perhaps now, we will not waste so much time."

He thought about it and blinked. Her eyes seemed to know something, there seemed to be a strange peace about her, similar to the peace he knew Qui-gon had held, but deeper, much, much deeper. "We will still have problems. This is going to take some getting used to."

She chuckled "I am not expecting perfection, Delinda. If I did, I would only be doing the both of us harm. But, perhaps, we are not going to be completely imperfect either?"

He nodded, trying desperately to come to grips with the situation. She may have been content with this, but he needed to think. Suddenly he jerked when her voice was at his ear, her hot breath and lust deepened voice causing a moan to escape his lips. "Delinda, you think too much. Don't think, feel. We should be living in the moment, making up for lost time."

He thought she had a point, then abstract thought took a poor second place as she ran strong hands under his shirt and nipped his earlobe with her teeth.

Oh, yes, they would be making up for lost time indeed.

End