Slave to Love

TITLE: Slave to Love, 6/7
AUTHOR: Ginny Powell
SUMMARY: A few weeks after Ep1, Obi and Anakin are visited
by strange dreams.
TYPE: Romance, het smut, with a mystery plot
RATINC-1NC-17, from page 1 (I am so proud of myself ;-)
PAIRING: Obi/OFC

WARNINGS: Explicit sex. Wait a minute, that’s not a
warning, that’s an incentive!

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own them, but I’m sure George Lucas’
Mommy taught him to share his toys, especially the pretty
ones. No Jedi were harmed in the writing of this fic; in
fact, several had a very good time.

CRITIQUE: I’m always interested in improving, so if you
spot something stupid, tell me. Or if you really like a
certain line, tell me. On or off list is fine.
wmginnypowell@yahoo.com


“I’ve been haunted in my sleep,
You’ve been starring in my dreams”
– Miss You, the Rolling Stones


“I keep my visions to myself”
– Dreams, Fleetwood Mac

Part VI – Surrender

Obi-Wan walkeck tck to his rooms slowly, unsure what he
would find there. But as he turned down his hallway, he
was surprised to see that the crowd had dispersed.
Reaching out in sudden alarm, he was relieved to sense
Sekina still inside, though her usually overwhelming
presence seemed reduced somehow. He approached the door,
started to open it, then decided to knock.

“Come in,” came Vivi’s voice. Obi-Wan knew it well, as did
just about every other being in the Temple. She had worked
in the crèche for as long as anyone could remember, filling
the role of grandmother for generations of youngsters taken
from their families to fulfill their destiny as Jedi.

He entered, continuing to sense Sekina, his blocks at the
ready should her old powers return. The woman herself, he
saw, was sitting on the rug in the center of the room. She
was wearing a loose, simple dress of dark red.

“I taught her first stage meditation,” Vivi whispered,
coming to stand beside Obi-Wan. “It is working well, yes?”

“Very well. Thank you, Vivi. And for the more…appropriate
clothing.”

“You’re welcome, little one. Oh, and don’t worry, I saved
her old clothes, in case you want them later.” And she
winked. As Obi-Wan just stared at her in embarrassed
shock, she continued, “Now that you’ve come back, I’ll go
and report to Mace. Feel free to send for me if you need
me again.” She was out the door before Obi-Wan could think
of anything to say.

He was still standing there a few minutes later, wondering
if it was time to give up his career as a Jedi and go live
as a hermit somewhere, when Sekina came out of her
meditation.

“Obi-Wan,” she called happily, and quickly rose and ran to
him. The moment she opened her eyes, her energy hit him
like a tidal wave. As she embraced him, he felt he was
being consumed by painless flames. Then he snapped his
barriers into place, and it became manageable.

“Nice to see you, too,” he said, hugging her back gingerly.

“We’re finally alone,” she whispered against his ear,
following up with a nibble. Her hands moved caressingly up
and down his back as her body melted against his.

“Um, I think we need to talk.” Obi-Wan gently disentangled
himself and gestured toward the couch. They sat down,
Sekina watching him with a quizzical expression. “I don’t
think you quite understand tyou you are free now, and it is
very important that you do.”

Sekina just watched him, an expression of polite interest
on her face.

“You’re not a slave anymore, Sekina. No one owns you, no
one controls you,” Obi-Wan went on. “You now have the
opportunity to go and do and be whatever you want. I feel
somewhat responsible for you, so I will do whatever I can
to help you start a new life for yourself. But you needn’t
feel under any sort of obligation to me.” His speech
finished, he waited for Sekina’s reaction.

“Is this where I’m supposed to seduce you, as I did in the
Sendings?” she asked with a suggestive smile.

“This isn’t a game, Sekina,” Obi-Wan sighed out his
frustration. “I’m not playing hard to get.”

“Then…you really don’t want me any more?” Her face fell
into confusion and sadness.

“Of course I want you,” he responded, taking her hands
tenderly. “I find you very, very attractive. I just want
to make sure you know what you are getting into.
wo
wouldn’t want to take advantage of your…generosity. If,
over time, we come to know and respect one another, and you
still wish it, then we could be more to each other. Do you
understand?”

“I…I think so,” Sekina said quietly. She seemed to be
mulling it over. Obi-Wan could only hope she really did
comprehend.

“Good. Well, I’d like to get some sleep,” he said. At the
look on her face, he added “Alone. Should I call Vivi to
come keep you company?”

“No, I think I shall sleep, too.”

“Then you can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” And
he stood to show her to his room.

“I wouldn’t dream of displacing you; I’ll sleep on the
couch,” Sekina countered.

“Sekina,” Obi-Wan began to protest, but she stopped him
with a sharp look.

“You say I am free? You say I may do as I please? Well, I
wish to sleep on the couch.” And she crossed her arms over
her chest defiantly.

Obi-Wan blinked, considered arguing the point, decided to
concede. “All right, the couch is yours. Just promise me
you won’t leave the apartment.”

“I promise,” Sekina replied brightly, seemingly back to her
happy self.

He went into his bedroom, returned with a blanket and
pillow which she took with a smile. As he headed back to
his room, he turned one last time to watch her settling
herself. With a flick of Force, he locked the apartment
door before retiring.

------

He awoke after a few hours of dreamless sleep, quite
refreshed. Realizing it had been a long time since he’d
showered, he made his way to the fresher, checking as he
crossed the hall that Sekina still slept on the couch. As
quickly as he could, Obi-Wan completed his toilette and
returned to his room to dress, locking the door as he did
so. He had half expected to be accosted as he crossed the
hall. When he emerged, fully clothed, and saw that the
couch was empty, he was almost afraid to enter the living
area. This is ridiculous, he thought angrily. Vivi said I
could send for her if I needed her – and I definitely need
her.

But as he approached the communications dock, which was on
the wall between the living area and the kitchen, he found
Sekina, her back to him, doing something at a kitchen
counter. She was mumbling something too low for him to
make out.

“What are you doing?” he asked, almost able to keep the
suspicion out of his voice.

“Making lunch,” she replied, flinging a smile over her
shoulder.

“I’m not really hungry right now.”

“Good, because it won’t be ready for at least an hour.”
And she went back to whatever it was she’d been working on.
This time, he could hear what she was saying. “Unk, bo,
ma, fla, loi-”

“Are you counting? What language is that?” He walked
around the counter to see what she was making. It was some
sort of dough.

“Valoric. I grew up on Valoria; that’s where I learned to
cook. Ever been there?”

“No; it’s not a member of the Republic. I know a little of
its culture though, as my Master had a special interest in
the place, I’m not sure why.”

“Your Master?”

“Oh, not tsortsort of master. My teacher, my mentor, the
man who trained me to be a Jedi. Qui-Gon Jinn, my father
in every sense of the word but genetic.”

“As you are to Anakin.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan shifted, a bit uncomfortably. “That’s the
idea, anyway. I am his Master, and he is my Padawan, my
apprentice. But by all rights he should have been Qui-
Gon’s.”

Sekina watched him, saw how the subject was bothering him.
“That is his book, then, by the couch?”

“Yes. He used to read it to me when I was young.” Obi-Wan
looked toward the couch, but his eyes were a million light
years away.

“Those stories are much better read in the original
Valoric,” Sekina said lightly, returning to her dough.
“They were written as verse, supposed to be chanted in
groups around a ceremonial fire and acted out.”

“Perhaps that is why they make so little sense to me as
just words on a page. So you read Valoric as well?”

“Valoric, Uzetii, Chalactan, Mu-et-beri-”

“I’m impressed,” Obi-Wan interrupted the list, truly
amazed. “How did you manage all that?”

Sekina shrugged. “As a slave, you do what your master asks
of you. If that meant learning his language, or that of
the servants so I could run the household, then I did.”
She took up a cloth, wiped her hands on it, then lay it
over the dough.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like, being a slave,” Obi-
Wan said quietly.

“It is not so bad as you imagine,” Sekina replied. “Shall
we sit and talk?” She gestured to the couch, and he
motioned that he would follow her. “At least it wasn’t so
bad for me. I have known others who had it much worse.
But then, it is the only life I’ve ever known, and I have
learned to deal with it in my own way.” They sat on
opposite ends of the couch, facing each other.

“You were born a slave, then?” Obi-Wan asked. He was
enjoying this casual conversation, speaking freely with
someone who neither outranked nor was outranked by him. He
felt his guard, his suspicions, dropping away – though he
made sure to hold on to his mental blocks.

“Yes, on Valoria. My mother was a whore in the house of a
Hutt, I don’t remember which one. Like all the products of
such a profession, I was turned over to be trained to a
woman named Muk Ba. She took good care of me, became my
mother ‘in every sense of the word but genetic.’”

“Trained? To be a, uh…” Obi-Wan could not bring himself
to say the word that had tripped so easily from Sekina’s
tongue.

“No, Muk Ba protected me from that,” Sekina answered, ltinlting her head quizzically. “I’ve never really
understood how or why. She convinced the Hutt that I would
be more valuable as a fully grown virgin. But by the time as tas twelve, the Hutt had grown impatient, and she was
forced to sell me. Her last act was to make sure I went to
Paroo, a kindly old Baranellic who was interested in me for
the visions I’d already manifested.”

“Her last act?”

“She killed herself, right there in the room, as soon as
the papers were signed.”

“She must have loved you very much.”

“And I her.” Sekina stared off into space, blinking hard.
“I will always be grateful to her, for all she did for me.
Her last words were to Paroo. She made him promise to love
me and take care of me.”

Obi-Wan watched the painful memories flicker across
Sekina’s features, felt his own echoing hers. “I watched
Qui-Gon die. His last words were for me to take care of
in, in, to have him as my padawan.”

“And you have fulfilled his wish. You should be proud.”

“That is yet to be seen,” Obi-Wan sighed. “It has been
only a few weeks.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan, I’m so sorry. I did not realize.” And she
took his hand, held it between her own, patting it.

Obi-Wan’s first instinct was to snatch his hand away. But
as her Force energy warmed his hand soothingly, and he
looked into her eyes and saw not pity but real caring, he
relaxed a little. Lulled by her quiet understanding, he
felt the tightness in his gut that had been his constant
companion since his Master’s death ease just slightly. He
squeezed Sekina’s hand.

“Tell me about him,” she said quietly, scooting a bit
closer to him on the couch.

Obi-Wan pondered her request for a moment, realized he
really did want to talk about his Master. But how to
explain such a complex man? “He was a wonderful Master,
and a great Jedi,” he began. “He believed in the living
Force, in using your instincts, you feelings, rather than
your thoughts. In living in the moment.” Obi-Wan focused
back on Sekina, smiled, wondered what Qui-Gon would have
thought of her. “We didn’t always agree, but he always
respected my opinion. I have a picture…” And he got up
and went to a shelf, bringing back a holophoto that had
been taken at a party in honor of Yoda’s ninth century. He
sat down next to Sekina on the couch. “That’s him,” Obi-
Wan pointed to Qui-Gon, who hovered over Yoda’s chair.
Mace Windu and Obi-Wan leaned against the chair on either
side.

“He had a kind face,” Sekina replied, letting her finger
trace the image. The digit trailed down to linger over
Obi-Wan’s visage. “As do you.” Still looking at the
picture, she let her head drop onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Obi-Wan felt it, briefly considered moving away, dismissed
the thought. This was nice, this mutual comforting, this
exchange with no expectations. Her energy pulsed at his
side like a warm compress on a sore muscle, relaxing him.
He let his own head rest gently against hers. He heard her
make a small, happy sound, as she leaned farther against
him. They sat in contented silence for some time. Then
Sekina said, almost whispered, “Obi-Wan?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do we know each other well enough yet?”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. He pulled away from her, slowly so
as not to let her fall. His shoulder felt suddenly cold
where her head had lain. “Sekina, don’t. These things
take time.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know.” Obi-Wan fought to keep the exasperation
out of his voice. “Love is one of the great mysteries.”

“It took not much time in the Sendings.”

“But those were just dreams to me. Never would I behave
like that in reality.”

“You are ashamed of what we did? You blame me?” Sekina
narrowed her eyes accusingly at him, crossing her arms in aay tay that accentuated the fullness of her breasts.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” Obi-Wan ran his hands
through his hair, unsuccessfully willing his body not to
betray his resolve, as he grew increasingly aware of the
Force power flowing from her. “Sekina, I do not want to
take advantage of you. You know so little of the universe.
You have somehow retained an amazing amount of innocence
despite your tribulations, and I would not injure that.”

“But you do injure me,” she pleaded. “You withhold your
love. All my masters, though they had their faults, loved
me. Even Juckolda loved me, in his own way. I could feel
their love radiating from them, I fed on it, it helped me
to endure. I chose you, came away with you, because I felt
that love in you, too, when I Sent to you. You felt it
too.”

“Yes, I felt it,” Obi-Wan had to admit. The room seemed to
be getting warmer.

“And yet now you block it, hide it, lock it away.” She
slid closer to him, one hand going to his knee. His skin
tingled beneath it. “I know not what suffering you fear
for me should you take me as I want you to, I know only
that I suffer now. Would you have me suffer, when you have
it in your power to make me so very happy?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sekina. That’s why-”

“Then love me, Obi-Wan. Love me.” And suddenly her energy
was overwhelming, like a background noise that he had just
noticed. It pulsed out of her almost visibly, washing over
him in waves. “Avail yourself not of my body if you wish,
but let me feel your love for me.”

Her face was very close, her eyes glittering emeralds,
pleading silently. It seemed such a simple thing for Obi-
Wan to let his own blocks drop just a little, to let her
feel his love for her, and to let hers in. What could it
hurt, when they had been so honest with each other already?
And so he opened up just the slightest bit, felt his own
energy dribble out slowly, was rewarded by a surge from
Sekina. Closing his eyes, he pictured their energies
joining, as they had in the Sendings, forming a golden
cloud that grew ever larger, began to envelop them.

Sensation washed over him. This was more intense even than
the dreams. It was as if tiny fingers played over his
entire body. Sekina’s hand on his knee burned with
pleasurable heat. No, wait, her hand was on his thigh.
And now his…

He opened his eyes to look at her, to admonish her for
tricking him. But as he looked into her eyes, it was as if
he saw into her soul, and she into his. He could feel her
feelings, hear her thoughts. Honest affection, desire, a
bit of hero worship – her love washed over him. It seemed
only fair to let her see his thoughts and feelings, which
amounted to much the same, with the hero worship replaced
by a touch of compassion. But as the tiniest crack can
burst the dam, so as he let his feelings trickle out, let
her feel how he felt, and they merged with hers into a
roiling mass of emotion, the trickle became a torrent.

Obi-Wan felt completely open, naked, vulnerable, but it
wasn’t a bad feeling. He now knew her better than he had
known anyone else in his lifetime, and she knew him. How
natural to take her into his arms, to pull her close, to
make love to her; how inconsequential next to the joining
of minds they had already experienced. As their lips
touched, and the energy flowed over and around and through
them familiarly, their love was like an invisible bubble
protecting them from all the rest of the universe.

The kiss became hungrier, their hands roamed each other’s
bodies possessively. Amazingly, impossibly, the physical
sensations were even more intense than they had been in the
Sending. Each knew just where to touch the other, the
pleading thought barely formed before it was fulfilled. So
Obi-Wan did not have to ask as his hands found the hem of
Sekina’s gown, slipped it up over her legs to her waist as
he gently lowered her onto the couch. Sekina’s hands made
short work of the fastenings on his belt and breeches, her
fingers soon closing over his swollen shaft, pulling it
towards her. As his cock slipped deep into her, his tongue
slipped into her mouth, finding both orifices warm and wet
and open to him.

After only a few strokes, Obi-Wan found himself on the
brink, overwhelmed by the tingling, caressing energy cloud.
He thought to hold back, to slow down, was answered by
Sekina’s silent plea not to. Her hands on his buttocks,
she pulled him even deeper into her. And then, once more,
they were coming together. Both cried out, but neither
heard, the Force buzzing around them, in their ears, in
their very brains. Obi-Wan could feel his feelings, his
energy, pumping out of him with his semen, Sekina
shuddering underneath him, her own energy joining his. He
could sense rather than see the fog coalesce around them,
golden, sparking orbs forming, contracting, exploding…

…and then they lay senseless on the couch.

Far above, where the Jedi Council still debated, the lights
flickered, and something like a shockwave passed through
the chamber. The eleven Masters and one Knight gasped as
one.

“What was that?” Adi Gallia asked no one in particular, her
eyes wide with wonder.

Mace Windu sighed. “I think I know.”


---End Slave to Love, Part 6: Surrender---
---Continued in Part 7---