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It wasn't often that Asajj wandered the halls of the Temple of her own volition. She still wasn't comfortable being surrounded by so many of the very people she had once called enemies (and vice versa); Obi-Wan didn't need a Force bond to tell him that. It was in the way she always left huge gaps between herself and any passing Jedi or Padawan, the way her eyes never stopped moving as if searching for the nearest exit just in case, the way she flinched whenever someone addressed her first.
But she was adapting. Only someone who knew her as well as he did could see the strides she was making in thinking of the Temple as something other than a prison. It was a little over two weeks into her stay that he noticed her walking toward the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He also noticed that her feet were bare. Curious, he decided to follow (at a safe distance, of course).
A soft sigh reached his ears as she disappeared into the room. He didn't follow her inside, however. If she didn't want company he would respect that. But he did poke his head around the corner. He watched her for a few moments, amazed at how natural and relaxed she looked amidst the foliage and gently running water. Somehow the absence of footwear made her seem even more ethereal, like some kind of forest spirit. Or a goddess.
Obi-Wan shook the unbidden thought away. With one last look at Asajj, he discreetly made his departure to leave her in her newfound peace.
They usually slept in their own rooms so as not to flaunt their not-so-secret relationship, but sometimes they simply craved being next to each other. Obi-Wan had to admit it certainly was easier to sleep with Asajj's warmth beside him. On occasion he would wake in the middle of the night and observe her for a moment before drifting back to sleep.
Most times she had her back pressed into his chest to better fit against him. His arm would be around her waist, and her fingers would be laced with his. Sometimes he wondered if she did that out of some deep-rooted, subconscious fear that he would leave her in the night and never return. Of course she knew him better than that; he would sooner fall on his own lightsaber than deliberately abandon her so coldly. Whatever the reason, he would always grip her hand a little tighter, draw her closer into his embrace, and nuzzle his cheek into her shoulder.
Other times he would wake to find her on her back, one hand resting on her stomach and the other under her head. What truly fascinated him was the tiny smile that would grace her lips. Despite their shared love and affection, seeing her smile was still a rare treat. Whether it was the knowledge that she was so truly, deeply loved that put that smile on her face, or some dream or rare happy memory, Obi-Wan was genuinely happy to see it. Then he would wrap his arm around her, nestle his face in the crook of her neck to inhale her scent, and fall back asleep, a similar smile on his lips.
Despite what anyone may have once or still thought of Asajj Ventress, there was no denying that her every movement was guided by some preternatural grace that bordered on otherworldy. Especially her hands.
Obi-Wan would often find himself staring at them as she went about her day. The way her fingers curled lovingly around the hilts of her lightsabers. The way they would move as she flipped through files in the Archive computers as if their every tiny motion and gesture were premeditated. Even the way she unconsciously straightened her clothes was imbued with that innate grace.
Was it any wonder then that she was such a superb opponent in the sparring ring? Ever since she'd released her long-standing anger and grief and rejoined the Order, her skills had only increased until she was able to stalemate Obi-Wan with ease. Beating him was another matter, but as long as he was able to watch her move like a dancer whenever they sparred he wouldn't mind finally being bested by her.
Obi-Wan thought that he was the only one who snuck glances when he thought no one was looking. It had become a sort of game to him; how long could he look at Asajj before she noticed? How many times could he sneak a glance in one day? Would any of the other Jedi notice if he tried sliding his gaze to her during a meeting?
Of course, it was only a matter of time before he got caught. But whatever embarrassment he may have felt was quickly stamped out when he realized that in being caught he had in turn caught her doing the same thing.
They'd been in the Archives, for different reasons, and though nearly half a wing separated them he could still feel her eyes on him. He'd first attributed it to his own paranoia (after all, he'd been hoping to earn a few more points in his one-sided game that afternoon), but once he looked up his suspicion had been confirmed.
To her credit, Asajj had swiftly averted her gaze back to the portable datapad in her hands, but her eyes remained unfocused as they looked at the screen. It was then that Obi-Wan realized he hadn't been entirely alone in his game. He allowed himself a smile, a brief rethinking of his tactics, and went back to his holoscreen.
Obi-Wan had always thought it would take something catastrophic or deeply jarring (Anakin's escapades not included) to make him lose his carefully constructed serenity. So it was supremely unexpected when he discovered that the tiniest things could accomplish the same goal.
The first had been when she had brushed the back of his neck with gentle fingertips, an innocent enough touch. Asajj had always had incredibly talented hands; of that there was no doubt. But he wasn't aware just how talented they were until during an affectionate embrace (well away from prying eyes) he felt the back of his neck prickle with anticipation. At first he'd thought someone was behind him. Then she had touched a single finger to the surprisingly sensitive skin, followed closely by the others to trail first down to the top of his spine, then back up to the lower edge of his hairline. The shiver that simple gesture produced had been startling, delicious, and momentarily frightening. A lifetime of Jedi training reduced to rubble at the merest touch. Of course, Asajj had been more than pleased with his reaction, apparently oblivious to his shattered inner calm, and gathered him closer against her.
The second and third times had both been in a decidedly more intimate encounter. The way she had breathed his name into his ear, so full of heat and lust and passion, had him trembling even more violently above her. He'd tried mentally reciting the Code to re-harness his control, but the slow lick she gave his earlobe had dashed that hope in a shaky moan and a near-painful tightening of his fingers in hers.
He'd told her once, only half-seriously, that she should be ashamed of herself for doing that on purpose. She had countered that she was in fact proud of herself for finding his weak points so quickly and effortlessly, and that he should be ashamed with how easily he forgot himself in her presence. He'd had nothing to argue that point. She'd spent the rest of the week silently laughing at him about it, much to his half-hearted chagrin and the confusion of others who happened to be present.
Secretly, he'd hoped to discover what other ways Asajj could shake his focus. Force knew she was more than eager to find out for herself as well.
Most people who interacted with Asajj Ventress heard one of two voices: the one full of bite and sarcasm (the one she used most often), or the one dripping with sensuality intended to distract and condescend. Only Obi-Wan had the honor of hearing other voices, ones she reserved solely for moments when they were alone.
When she was feeling playful, her tone would deepen until he could feel her words vibrating through his chest. When she was tormented by nightmares and blood-soaked memories, her voice became so small he wanted nothing more than to curl around her like a shield against the horrors. And still other times when she felt completely at peace, she sounded...he couldn't quite find the right word, but beautiful was close enough.
To those who didn't know her the way he did, she had only two personas, neither of which was very welcome amid the tight-knit community of the Temple. But Obi-Wan heard and saw every facet of her personality, every ounce of passion and complexity she hid beneath her armor. Part of him wished she would shed that emotional armor and share that myriad of voices with the rest of the galaxy. But a larger, more selfish part couldn't help but feel a sense of possessive pride that she only revealed those sides of herself to him. They were his reward for never losing his faith in her, even when she desired nothing more than to ascend the ranks of the Sith.
He lost himself in his thoughts the longer he observed her at work. She had been tinkering with her new lightsaber for over an hour and he hadn't been able to take his eyes from her. Snapping the last piece into place with a final click, Asajj lifted the hilt with both hands. She paused, then glanced up to meet Obi-Wan's gaze that overflowed with affection. "What?" she said with a gentle laugh.
He almost sighed at the sound of that word. No one else would have the pleasure of hearing such lightness in her voice for the foreseeable future. The thought made his heart swell with pride. "You," he replied simply. "I like watching you work."
She smiled. He knew that smile. A sharp tingling formed in his belly when she stood from the desk and made her way to where he sat, her hips swaying hypnotically with every step. That tingling grew into something more when she sat down in his lap, her knees on either side of his hips and her arms around his neck. "Would you like to see me work in other ways, my dear?"
Obi-Wan forced down a groan. There was that primal sensuality, genuine this time as it always was now with him. She knew what she was doing, wicked woman. His eyes followed his hand as it trailed from her throat to the swell of her breast. "I believe you already know the answer to that, Asajj."
Her laugh, that low, throaty sound he had come to revel in, was easily the high point of the day for him...well, for the moment.