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This is the second morning in a row I've woken up aroused and wanting. The cause is different this time though. Not my tall, handsome Master -- just a guy. We met, we fucked, and we didn't even say goodbye. Actually, my last words to him were "fuck you", I believe. Not at my most eloquent.
I let the anger at him go, so why can't I get the rest of him out of my head? The dark eyes, the curly dark hair, the taste of him in my mouth, and the sounds of him coming in the back room of that bar... Why him? What was the attraction there? He wasn't the best I've ever had, not even close. Although the taste of him...
My hand drifts down as I imagine what his mouth wrapped around me would feel like. Would he use his tongue, explore with his hands? My hand increases the rhythm on my cock. Would he squeeze me tight in his hand and then swallow me whole? Could he? I can still feel his hands in my hair, and see the look of absolute wonder on his face as I buried him into my mouth, feel the heat and tension in his thighs as he shuddered to climax. My hand moves faster, picturing his hands on my cock, his mouth on mine. I loved kissing him. He was so responsive to my touch, eager to please, and easy to please. I'm close, and I reach down to cup my balls in my hand -- they're tight and ready to release. I picture his hair trailing along my thighs, and imagine how it would feel on my skin. Oh, yes...
My body curls around my hand and I groan as I come, the stickiness hitting my stomach. Would he like to be held afterwards? Would I get soft, open kisses and gentle hugs from him?
I sigh, disgusted with myself. I never do this -- moon after some nameless stranger. I get up and take a shower. Time to start the day.
After my morning training session, my Master tells me we are requested to attend the reception Senator Antilles is arranging for the Viceroy of Alderaan. Formal dress whites and good behavior -- my favorite combination. At least I'll get to see Qui-Gon in his formals. They show off all his best features.
"The reception will be over in the Senate building at 12th hour," Qui-Gon tells me as I gather up my equipment. "When are your classes finished today?"
"I am assisting Garen with some initiates until 10th," I answer. "I'll cancel latemeal with him so I'll have enough time to get ready. Would you like to meet me at our quarters and we can go over there together?"
"That will be preferable, as there are several people I would like to introduce you to, including the Viceroy's son. He's never been off planet before this trip." Qui-Gon picks up his bag and heads for the door. "Good luck with your Physics report Obi-Wan. I'll see you later."
"Thanks." I grin, pleased he remembered I had to pass it in today. I've been working hard on it for the last tenday and am determined to keep my standing at the top of the class.
Qui-Gon and I enter the huge grand ballroom of the Senate. Situated at top of the building, its transparent windowed ceiling glows with the distant ships racing through the crowded transportation lanes above us. The room is round and could easily land several skyhoppers at once on its colorfully decorated floor. The room is done in richly colored geometric designs that border the large doorways to the enclosed balconies. It has been engineered to look bigger than it really is -- a very important detail for those who get claustrophobic in large crowds.
My master and I diplomatically work our way through the room to a large table at which sits Senator Antilles and a dozen others. They are drinking and laughing, oblivious to the Alderaani folk music being played by a large band on the opposite side of the room. Dozens of people are dancing on the polished floor, some quite well, while others seem to have no real affinity for musical rhythm. I, of course, keep that thought very private. I have been taught by the best.
As we close in on our destination, we encounter Councilor Windu talking with several Alderanni wearing the traditional robes of the Royal House: bright colors, shimmering fabric and long sweeping lines, looking like Artesian Fire birds ready to mate, posing and preening for the room at large. Maybe they are just normal politicians, I think to myself. Mace hails us closer to his companions.
"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi -- please let me introduce you to the Minister of Finance, Rojer Antilles, and the Deputy Minister, Jance Robern of Alderaan." They both bow in response to his introduction and Qui-Gon and I answer in kind.
"We are pleased to meet you, and hope you have a successful term of office." Qui-Gon comments as we both are served Alderaani wine from a richly dressed page at our elbow. "I understand you are both new to our planet." They too accept new drinks and gesture to toast with us.
"Peace in all places," Minister Antilles intones in his planet's traditional blessing.
"Peace," we both reply. It is one of my favorite things about their planet -- their all-consuming quest for harmony.
As we drink to that, an older man joins us, even more richly dressed and wearing a large jeweled chain around his neck signifying his position as the highest member of the Royal House. And to my surprise, beside him is my dark-eyed mystery man, laughing at something the woman beside him is saying into his ear as he walks behind the Viceroy. The Viceroy has a foul look on his face, the kind you have when encounter a Hutt for the first time and get a good look at the slimy face up close.
"I wasn't aware the reception was open to anyone." The Viceroy sneers in open contempt to the Minister. The calm look on Councilor Windu's face is a testament to his years of Jedi training.
"I-I thought that meeting with the councilor was a good idea," stammers the Minister.
"We do not wish to meet with these people at all," states the Viceroy quite sternly.
My mystery man finally notices the quiet tension in the people around him and moves in closer beside the Viceroy. "What is the matter, Father?" he asks quietly, his dark eyes intent on the man.
Father? I think to myself as much of our previous encounter comes into clearer focus.
"We will not tolerate Jedi tricks and manipulations in our negotiations."
"But Father, I'm sure we can trust Senator Antilles to guarantee the good intent of these people. At least we could meet with them and get a clearer understanding of their work." He then turns to look at the three of us. His eyes widen in shock as they meet mine, and his drink falls to the floor between us. I quickly close the distance between us and catch his hand in mine.
"Did you sprain your wrist today?" I ask him, looking into those beautiful eyes, hoping he understands I am trying to help him cover his actions.
"I was playing Paddleball earlier," he replies softly. "I didn't notice being injured." He looks stunned to see me here -- the color has drained from his face and his breathing is shallow. Slowly we work our way from the confusion his father is engineering to one of the large ornate chairs at the Senator's table. I sit him gently down, ignoring the loud chaos his father creates behind us. My Master is at my side instantly and the Deputy Minister appears with a glass of water for my slowly recovering patient. I gently run my hand against the side of his neck, supposedly checking for other injuries. The only things I notice are an increased pulse and the heat coming off his skin. I crouch beside the chair, cradling his hand in mine as I stroke it slowly.
"Are you okay now?" I ask softly in his ear. He immediately tenses up when he looks beyond me, a trace of fear in his eyes.
"Unhand Bail this instant!" The Viceroy's voice is angry, and the air seems to fill with it as well. Of course, my mind is stuck on the name -- Bail. Now my stranger has a name. His father steps closer to me, intent on retrieving his son. Bail shoots up from the chair, and pushes me back protectively, as I stand with him. "Are you hurt?" The viceroy grips his arms hard and shakes him a bit; I step forward to protest. "Did he hurt you?" he demands of Bail, who shakes his head no, wincing as his father's grip tightens.
"Excuse me, Viceroy," I interject, "but your son may be hurt or sick. I think we need to get him to a healer for a more thorough exam." Qui-Gon and Master Windu flank me as I say this; those who have heard me look on in astonishment. "He may have unknowingly sprained or even broken his wrist or have contracted the flu or eaten something adverse to his digestion. These are quite common occurrences to those people new to a planet." My calm voice and demeanor belay the outburst I sense possible from this man. "Your son looks quite hardy and strong, but anyone can fall victim to these. His heartbeat is rather fast and his respiration shallow and muscle weakness is a common first symptom." I could see his father loosening his grip, his attention diverting to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the woman Bail had been laughing with come to his side and Senator Antilles to his back. I feel Qui-Gon's hand on my arm, a subtle signal from Master to Padawan to step back and reevaluate the objective. I struggle to end my diatribe as I realize if nothing else, I have removed him from his father's wrath. "There is a flu from Malastare, which starts in just this manner. It isn't dangerous, just very uncomfortable." Antilles guides Bail towards the woman beside him and away from his father, murmuring encouragement to him.
The viceroy seemed to completely forget his son's predicament and his presence as he turns to me stepping fully into my personal space. "If you ever touch my son again, I will personally see you arrested for assault." The quietness of his voice warns me as well as those at my side that interference will be futile.
Senator Antilles, having off-loaded Bail to the Royal Guard, comes to my defense. "Padawan Kenobi did the right thing Varnus, the Jedi are taught from an early age to assist anyone in need." The senator's grasp on the Viceroy's arm is insistent. " And his assessment of the situation is most astute. Let us go see to Bail's health. I feel you both need to be vaccinated against several more of the flus prevalent here on Coruscant."
Calmly, I stand my ground, pulling strength from the Force around me; I felt that a show of strength was imperative in dealing with this man. "I hope your son is feeling better, Viceroy, and I hope we can resolve our differences at our next encounter. It grieves me that you have a negative view of the Jedi. Alderaan is a shining example of what peace and prosperity can bring to a planet. Peace is something we Jedi hold most dear, and we would love to see a future partnership between ourselves and your people to help advocate this to more planets."
Senator Antilles quickly tugs the viceroy most unceremoniously towards his guards as he still sputtered in rage in response to my words. I could just make out the words "impudent, arrogant, and conceited" spit from his mouth as he is led away. I am treated to a surreptitious grin from the Deputy Minister as he turns to follow the procession.
Several moments pass and the sound level in the room reaches new decibels as the Alderaani leave the ballroom.
"You certainly managed to mold this one into your image Qui-Gon, Force protect us!" Mace snorts as he walks away.
My outward calm starts to fade as I face my Master. "You read all the cultural files on the Alderaani people, didn't you?" he asked, admiration evident in his voice.
"A wise man once told me that negotiations end at the treaty table, but start at the dinner table." I reply. His smile at my words warms me deep inside. I love to make him proud of me.
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