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Obi-Wan trailed his fingers down her spine with delicate strokes. Asajj purred against him as he traced over scars old and new, but where she brimmed with pleasure he was filled with sadness. He knew how each mark had come to be, each horrific story of torture and Sith lightning used as punishment for her failures in Dooku's service. There were times when he wished for nothing more than to take them away, to relieve her of the pain that had come with them. He kept this sentiment to himself, though; she viewed her scars as reminders of what she had survived, of where she had been so she would never return to those dark places again. They had shaped her into the woman she was, for better or worse.
“You know the stories behind my scars,” she murmured into his neck as if reading his mind, “but I don't know yours.”
He chuckled. “You gave me quite a few of them, beloved.”
Asajj pushed herself up to sit astride his lap. She wasn't laughing. “The ones on your back.”
Obi-Wan sat up as well and wrapped his arms around her waist. The warmth of her bare skin was a balm. “I believe those were gifts from your lovely fingers, Asajj.”
She almost smiled at the reference, but her annoyance with his evasion began to surface. “You know which ones I'm talking about, Kenobi.” She rested her chin on his shoulder and looked down at the corded lines that slashed across his fair skin. The eight going vertically from his shoulders to the center of his back were hers, but the others were chaotic, paler with age and possibly endless treatments. She touched one with a gentle fingertip. Her heart broke when he flinched violently. “Who did this to you, my love?” She waited until his body lost its tension before touching him again. He didn't flinch this time, but his grip tightened on her hips to the point of pain and his body went rigid. Asajj backed off and instead caressed his cheek with one hand, the other burying itself in his hair. “Please tell me, Obi-Wan,” she whispered with a soft kiss to his neck. “I won't force you to tell me, but you've shared my burden many times over. Let me share yours.”
Obi-Wan's chest pushed against hers as he took a deep breath, then let it out against her shoulder. He made a conscious effort to relax his fingers from their deathgrip on her hips. He was thankful her hands stayed where they were; she knew how her touch affected him, especially when she stroked his hair. It was so very soothing.
“Zygerians,” he said after a lengthy silence. “I was captured during a humanitarian mission...and nearly sold as a slave.”
Now it was Asajj's turn to flinch. She'd heard how brutal the felinoids were to their 'property', and after her stint as a slave it was a fate she wouldn't wish on anyone. His arms tightened around her in an instinctive effort to comfort her; she would have laughed at the irony of the gesture at such a time, but he probably wouldn't have appreciated it. “What do you mean 'nearly'?” she asked instead.
“Anakin intervened during the...auction-” Asajj rubbed her cheek against his at the catch in his voice “-and I was sent to a work camp instead. Did you know the Zygerians are fond of vibro-whips? Because I didn't.” He gathered her more closely against him to bury his face in her neck and inhale her calming scent. “That's how they got there, but...”
Obi-Wan cut himself off as the memories started coming back in full. He shuddered. “But what, darling?” Asajj prompted softly with a pass of her hand through his hair.
He reached up and removed her other hand from his face, toying with her fingers to distract himself from the remembered trauma. His voice was barely above a whisper when he continued. “The physical pain I could handle. I'd endured worse. The real torture was watching the Togrutas I'd sworn to help suffer because of me. If I tried to fight or even spoke out of turn, they were the ones who bore the punishment. I'd never felt so...utterly helpless.” He let out a shaky breath before bringing her hand to his lips for a thankful kiss. “It was the most horrific feeling I've ever experienced. The scars remind me of my failure every day.”
Asajj looked at him as if seeing him for the very first time. To see him so vulnerable and exposed was surreal. Before now she'd have sooner believed that Dooku would return to the Jedi Order. She could almost feel her heart ripping itself apart in the face of her lover's pain. Taking her hand back and placing both on either side of his face, she lifted his head and forced him to meet her eyes. “But you escaped. You saved the Togrutas in the end. You're always telling me to not dwell on the past. Take your own advice for once, Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan gave a weak smile at that. “And I've always attributed the 'do as I say, not as I do' approach to Anakin.”
She ignored the mention of Skywalker. “Do you feel a little better now?”
“Much. Thank you, beloved.” A gentle kiss to her jaw brought a soft smile to her lips. “You're well on your way to becoming a star Jedi.”
“Again with the insults,” she drawled with an exaggerated eyeroll. “I’ll let it slide this time, but only because you're so pathetic right now.” A wave of love through their Force bond and a genuine smile kept her words from stinging.
“Such kindness from Asajj Ventress?” he replied with a laugh, lying back on the bed and pulling her with him. “The Force is smiling on me tonight.”
Before dawn broke over the Coruscant horizon, Obi-Wan woke and carefully disentangled himself from his lover. He silently gathered his clothes from where they'd been strewn around the room the night before. He'd sat down on the bed to pull his boots on when Asajj's fingers lighted on his bare shoulder. She kissed his skin affectionately, her hands trailing down his back. She traced the parallel lines she'd carved into his flesh first, then the ones made by the lash of a vibro-whip. She was relieved that he didn't flinch this time.
She decided to try her luck a bit more. She lowered her lips to the marks and followed their jagged stripes. In the back of her mind was the absurd thought that if she kissed them enough she could make them disappear, take away the horrible memories. She worked her way down until she came across other marks from different weapons and conflicts, then made her way back up. She drank in the sight of his expression: eyes closed in contentment, a gentle smile on his lips, his forehead smooth and untroubled.
The moment was over too quickly for both of them. The beep of his comlink broke through the comfortable silence and reminded them of the fact that the outside world awaited. “Kenobi here,” he answered as Asajj helped him into his undertunic.
“Obi-Wan,” a deep, serious voice said. “The Council is ready to brief you on your next assignment.”
“Thank you, Master Windu. I'll be there shortly.” He cut the connection and turned to Asajj with a rueful smile. “I don't mean to leave you without buying you breakfast first-”
Her lips on his replaced his apology with a string of sighs and muffled groans. His arms pulled her against him, her flesh to his rough tunic, when the tip of her tongue requested entry to his mouth. He happily granted it and returned the gesture. She pulled back when his kisses became more urgent, more demanding. “Keep it up and you'll miss that briefing,” she breathed, only half-heartedly sorry for her role in his distraction.
“Hmm, where would I rather be: in a room surrounded by stoic Jedi Masters, or in bed with my fiery Asajj?”
“Get out there,” she said with a grin. “Give Dooku an extra kick in the head for me.”
Obi-Wan stood, disguising his reluctance to leave her warm embrace, and kissed the back of her slender, lethal hand. “That I can do, my sweet.”