Oh yea, and Qui-Gon's not in this scene, but he's around. katbeseroc and I decided he was too awesome to kill.
Was it evening yet? He glanced at his holochron for the millionth time. Patience was not his strongest suit, and even less so tonight, considering what awaited him.
They were meeting in the lobby, and he'd considered dinner in the actual restaurant, but no - he had a nice private terrace in his suite. Waitdroids would bring up whatever they desired. In the meantime, he'd had opportunity to look up a little on his date - her father was a Jedi named Kenobi - renowed for his methodical, meticulous nature, and her mother, the Lady Sakarte. Miriam was first Fiona to serve in the Jedi Order in centuries. Acaciah was very much between worlds, culturally speaking. He wondered how the Order really tolerated Lady Sakarte - the Fiona were everything the Jedi were not, hedonistic, mystical, passionate. More like the Sith than the Jedi, to his mind. And Acaciah used her mother's name, not her father's...there had to be a way to use that identification to his advantage. But now it was time to come down to the lobby and greet her in person.
He stood in the lobby, gazing into the panoramic window, arms behind his back, until he sense her enter the room. He was beside her in a heartbeat, kissing her hand (so soft!) and telling her she was lovely.
It was all true. Her curls were pinned and piled atop her head, and she wore a sheath of emerald velvet that was banded with gold at the waist and straps. It bared just a hint of cleavage in the front and plunged in the back.
"This is not Temple-issue," he said as he led her to the elevator. "Not that I'm complaining."
"I have lots of outfits that aren't, actually," she said. "It's a family thing."
The elevator was clear and as it went up the floors you could see Telos' sunset, its sky pink. Acaciah watched it with a smile. "It's so different from Coruscant."
Anakin stepped closer. "The terrace where we're having dinner has a spectacular view."
"Where are we eating? she asked. "I thought the restaurant was downstairs."
"You'll see," he said. "I think you'll like it."
Finally they were to the top of the hotel, and he escorted her toward his suite. He keyed in the lockcode, and she froze.
"This...is your room?"
"It's got the best view, and it's private."
She was bristling. "What sort of woman do you think I am?"
A sheltered one, he thought, amused. Aloud, he said, "You're Heiress Sakarte."
"How do you know that?"
"I've been to Alameen. I know where Lachere is. I've been to Parthenia."
A little mollified. In truth, he suspected she was as startled by her own reaction as she was to his. So very sheltered. Did the Jedi do this to all their initiates?
"What did you do on Alameen?"
"I raced; I won the Vitas Eve 500."
"How does a pilot become a special emissary to the Supreme Chancellor?"
That tone. He'd heard that tone before - out of a Jedi's mouth. Ginger hair and a beard? Kenobi. Her father. "I have other talents." He offered her his hand. "Come inside Lady Acaciah. I won't hurt you."
She took his hand and stepped in, still hesitant. She tilted her head and studied him. "If you try anything I don't like, I do carry a lightsaber."
"I'll take it under advisement, my Lady."
A wait droid rolled up. "Right this way, please."
He wasn't lying about the view from the terrace, Acaciah thought as she settled into her seat. The evening was balmy, with a soft breeze, and the waitdroid poured champagne as they looked over the menu. Once the food was ordered, she got up to have a better look at the city. The balustrade was made of the same lilac marble that decorated much of the city.
"You like?" Anakin was beside her.
Goodness, he was tall. And those eyes, so deep blue. She could feel herself flush. Yes, she liked, probably more than she should. His hair was sandy blond, with the hint of a curl, and it tumbled toward his eyes. "It's lovely," she said.
"Yes," he agreed, and she could feel he didn't mean the city. "Tell me, have you figured out where you've seen me before?"
She shook her head. "Alas, no." The breeze fluttered in her hair, and her locks fell down around her shoulders. "Oh!" she started to look for her comb, when Anakin held out his palm. "Brat! Give me back my barrette!"
"Come and get it!"
She reached and he ducked and soon she was in his arms, his lips on hers.
She pressed into him and he growled, his fingers twining into her hair. As his lips nuzzled against her neck, it clicked into place. Her dreams. She'd never seen his face in her dreams, but this - she could feel it on the Force. Only a dream, only not a dream? And Mama said she'd dreamt of Papa before she ever met him...
//Yes// his voice was smug inside her head.
He was listening to her! She tried to pull away, but he held her fast. "Who are you?"
"I don't think..." she couldn't think straight when he looked at her that way.
"I've been looking for you so long..." he stroked her cheek. "Stay, please."
"How do you know the Force?"
"I've always had it," that much was true - "I studied a little under an old Son of Sakarte. I went to the High Priestess in Parthenia. She told me I'd find you." Instinct served him well - he could feel some of the tension leave her body. He bent to kiss her again, and she didn't resist. He could feel her softening in his embrace, her resistance fading away. With a flick of a finger the clasps on her dress gave way, and he slid one strap, then the other; it slid away and puddled at their feet. He wanted to look at her, and he did, but not nearly his fill - that would come soon enough.
"I-" her words were cut off by his lips, tugging at one nipple, than the other. "What if I'm wrong?"
"I'm not," Anakin said, and sat her on the table, now quite bare.
Acaciah looked up at him, suddenly shy. He was handsome, with broad muscled shoulders, and my goodness! Those thighs! She felt herself flush as she realized he was watching her.
He pushed her legs apart and slid between them, fingers reaching to her sex and teasing her clit. She gave a little moan and her head tilted back.
"Look at me," he said, his voice urgent. He stopped until she complied. He let a finger dip inside her, pushing till he found her maidenhead. She moaned and squirmed, her legs spreading wider. Anakin pushed her flat against the table and whispered in her ear. "You're going to stay with me tonight, and I'm going to count every little freckle," his fingers traced over her aching nipple and skimmed over her hip. "Count it, kiss it, and do it again."
"It would be more than a night's work!"
"I'll do it as long as it takes then!" he kissed her and thrust hard and fast, breaking her barrier. She gave a little cry of pain, and part of Anakin cringed - the rest gloated. Mine, all mine. She took a deep breath and he went on, thrusting slowly, letting her feel the friction of their bodies together. Memorizing the sensation for himself. Her hair brushing against his cheek. She was starting to pant in pleasure now, her cheeked were flushed with it. Oh Force, it was so very good...just the way he'd pictured it.
Acaciah moaned and twisted. Part of her couldn't believe she was doing this. This man...she'd dreamt him up. She'd wake up soon, in her bed alone, probably frustrated....but now.
He was smirking at her. "Not a dream this time, love."
Her nails dug into his back. "Don't stop!"
"Come for me, Acaciah. Now."
And she did. She didn't remember how she made it from the table to the bed, or perhaps that food had been brought while they were occupied. She did, however, remember that Anakin gave her a tray and they nibbled off of it until they decided to nibble on each other once again.
She awakened in the wee morning light, disoriented. Where was she? A hotel room. Not alone. A man's body - a very naked body was spooned up next to hers. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his chin tucked into her hair.
Anakin Skywalker. She certainly wouldn't forget his name now. Holy Force, what would her parents think? She'd just met him!
Well, Mama might understand. But Papa? The fact she was of age wouldn't much matter, she was his daughter. And she needed to check in with the rest of the camp. It would be far better for her family to hear about this from her than Master Yoda. Gently she tried to extract herself, but it proved unsuccessful. Anakin had an iron grip, even in sleep.
But then...he chuckled. "You're worried about getting in trouble."
Was he really such a light sleeper?
"Yes," he responded to her thought. "And yes, I can hear you. Even louder now, actually."
Acaciah rolled over and looked at him. "You have me at a disadvantage then; I can't hear you."
"Actually you can," he twisted a curl around his finger. //You're just not trying. You've been trained to ignore the Living Force cues.// He slid atop her. "That Temple of yours is trying to beat all the Fiona out of you." He let his stubble tickle against her neck. "You don't have to hide that part of yourself from me."
She could feel her body heating in response to his touch. His lips grazed against her throat; his teeth nicked little love bites down her skin.
"Passion can set you free, mi priana."
Free. She'd belonged to the Order all her life. What did that even mean?
//Stay with me and find out.// His gaze was intent on hers.
She reached for him, and his eyes gleamed in satisfaction. They kissed, and when it broke he gave her an impish grin. "I'm not done yet, you know."
"Counting," he punctuated the word by tracing the freckles on her chest, tickling her. She giggled, and he smiled. Last night had been urgent; this morning would be leisurely. She was his, and she could feel it, he sensed that. He could work that Jedi conditioning out of her. In fact - he smiled, and she flushed - he was going to enjoy breaking it down. As a boy he'd had nothing - no possessions. He was a possession.
Not so anymore.