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“It’s almost the Feast of High Mystic Valentina,” Obi-Wan remarked, breaking the stillness of a rare quiet evening. He turned to the next page in his book as both Ahsoka and Anakin cocked eyebrows at him, then shared a glance which clearly communicated that while Ahsoka, as the padawan, was willing to fall on her lightsaber and ask, there would be some favor to be named later from her master.
“Who was High Mystic Valentina, Master?” Ahsoka asked, finally, genuinely curious.
Obi-Wan’s face schooled itself into a mask of blank astonishment. “You mean to say you’ve never heard of her? She was an early sage whose writings - somewhat heretical now - discuss engaging in a romantic relationship while also maintaining one’s discipline in the Force. Quite compelling, actually.” Both of the other Jedi crimsoned visibly as Obi-Wan turned another page in his book. “You’d think with the way you liaise with Senator Amidala and the way you sneak poorly-concealed glances at Padawan Offee that you might have brushed up on her works.”
Anakin’s lip twisted with annoyance. “Well, if we’re going to air dirty laundry, what about all those mysterious little notes you’ve been getting?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” The corner of Obi-Wan’s lip twitched. Consternation? Amusement? Difficult to say.
“Come on, Master,” Ahsoka prodded. “You could hardly miss the last one; it was carved into a chunk of armor from a Separatist tank!”
“Very fine bladework if it was done with a lightsaber,” Anakin added helpfully. “Who do you think could have done it, Snips? Master Secura? Master Vos?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’ve been focusing on the words themselves. How did that one go?” It was the padawan’s turn to feign innocence. “That’s right: ‘Lightsabers are red, lightsabers are blue.’”
“‘There’s a goddamn war on,’” Anakin continued.
“‘Why can’t I quit you?’” They concluded in unison.
“Hardly the stuff of holo-dramas,” Anakin teased. “But has a certain blunt appeal.”
“I despise both of you,” Obi-Wan informed them. “Haven’t you got anything better to do?”
“I finished all my homework,” Ahsoka said, beaming.
“No you haven’t,” Anakin corrected, a merciless twinkle in his eye. “You owe me 3000 words on the works of High Mystic Valentina.”
The Togruta’s jaw dropped. “You! You’re just too lazy to read them yourself.”
“Get Barriss to help you,” Anakin suggested, shooing her out the door, leaving Obi-Wan again with a modicum of peace.
***
Asajj clicked open her private comlink line. “What is it, Kenobi?” She hissed. She had just come up with a perfectly good rhyme for ‘fervor’ when the damned beeping had made her lose it.
“I’m afraid they’re onto us, dearest.”