Saga Small Luxuries - Romantic one-shot, Post ROTS Obi/OC

This one-shot is dedicated to my wonderful beta, SerendipityAEY.

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[b]Small Luxuries[/b]

During the long days of his self-appointed exile, Obi-Wan Kenobi allowed himself very few pleasures. Even in the time [i]before[/i] he came to Tatooine, he'd never been one for the finer things in life; without a doubt he was able to enjoy those things, should they have ever crossed his path in his tenure as a Jedi, but he did not seek them out or pine for them when they were gone. In the wake of the more devastating loss of his fellow Jedi and the Republic, those trifles were minuscule at best and he did not concern himself with such things. He had lost far too much to worry about frivolities.

However, he did miss his tea.

There had been a favored kind, one he'd acquired a taste for long before the Wars, during his apprenticeship, as a matter-of-fact; it was minty and sweet, but with a spicy edge that made most others turn their noses up. Qui-Gon had started him on it, and in the beginning Obi-Wan remembered thinking that it tasted like something out of the vile end of a gundark. However, after giving it more than a passing chance ? and possibly to please his Master ? he developed a fondness for the drink and would take it in any form, at any temperature: warm, cold, somewhere in-between. It mattered not. Obi-Wan loved Cyrodil tea.

The Tatooine suns had just lifted above the horizon as he slipped out of his hut, and Obi-Wan shifted his pack and began his journey. When a breeze toyed with the hem of his robe, the cool edge that still clung to the air even after dawn reminded him that it was technically winter in the desert. Save for the pat of his boots against the sand it was quiet, which gave him ample opportunity ? if not inclination ? to think of old times.

Later on he'd managed to acquire a few other converts to Cyrodil tea; those who were able to get close to him knew of his predilection and would attempt to get a taste for the stuff. There were a few people he could recall off-hand who would have happily enjoyed a cup with him...but they were gone, now.

The thought of those he had lost made his head duck briefly, then raise as he continued the trek.

By early afternoon he reached Anchorhead. It was remarkably easy for him to slip through the streets without attracting attention, and soon he was pushing open the old-style rattlebang door that led into the Great Chott General Store. A soft bell announced his entrance, and he stepped up to the counter, his face falling into a frown as he was greeted by...no one.

As he was debating whether or not to leave, the dingy curtain behind the register peeled back, revealing a woman ? perhaps in her mid-thirties ? he'd never seen before. Although she was dressed in the simple, sturdy manner of most Anchorhead folk, there was a refined air in the carriage of her neck and shoulders, and the movement of her body was graceful as she approached the counter. ?Can I help you, sir??

?Where is Gerret?? Obi-Wan asked. ?He usually helps me.?

She frowned and pushed a stray bit of bronze-colored hair out of her face. ?Gerret's away on family business,? she replied. ?I'm running the place for now.? Her accent was soft and vaguely familiar, though it was unroughened by the Tatooine sand. ?What do you need??

There was annoyance in her voice and he realized that he'd been rude in his surprise, so he cleared his throat and lowered the hood of his robe to meet her eyes. ?Forgive me. I meant no disrespect...??

?Keren,? she said, brow lifting. ?I'm his niece. And you are...??

Her hand extended; he noted that her skin was smooth as well. His own was starting to turn brown, and he'd only been here a few months. ?Ben.?

?Lovely to meet you, Ben.?

They shook hands and he watched her eyes as she studied him. There was no trace of recognition, so he surmised that she had not seen the Wanted posters with his likeness that were ? apparently ? plastered all over the Core. No, there was no recognition, but there was something else. Her eyes were a curious color, falling somewhere between b

 

A very sweet and moving story. Love to see Ben having a friend

 

Laloga:

This was such a gentle, wistful read!

When reading of pairings where one half is an OC, I always like to make sure that they're the kind/type of person the canon character would be good together with or happy with. And I also look for a nice pace for the relationship: not too fast or slow, given the context of the situation and the personality of the character(s).

This was great on all counts. Keren sounds just the sort for Obi-Wan at this time frame -- not nosy but warmly friendly and sympathetic, not sharing too much or too little.



I'm very happy he has someone to lighten the load a bit and give some pleasant times/new memories.

And yes, serendipityaey is fantabulous!

 

What a beautiful, gentle little romance between the two of them. Perfect for Obi-Wan in that particular situation, and so comfortable. Mmmm, tea. Beautifully written and all sorts of soothing, like a cup of cocoa. (Sorry. I will always prefer my cocoa to tea. ) A lovely gift.

 

Aww thanks! I think you guys are pretty fantabulous as well Yay for mush!


Ohh, sweet, lovely Obi-Wan, you so deserve someone to worry about (and love) you and how I LOVE forcing it on him! I feel like I've been on a bit of a rollercoaster ride with this Obi-Wan, and now here we are settled on Tattooine, alone and sad (while everyone else is having all sorts of crazy fun on Mundali) and ready to face a long lonely exile, but then...

Love will always find a way, I'd really like to believe that, and I will always write that, and I love, love, love to read it. Especially when it comes to Obi-Wan, there's something about him that's just irresistably loveable, and he tries to resist, but that only makes him more loveable, and you've captured this and him, so, so beautifully

From the very beginning the weight of emotion is tangible. Of course we know what he's been through, but we need very little literal reminding, and in a way it doesn't matter, we just need to know where he is, and you make it clear. His sadness is heavy and prevalent, he's dealt with more loss than anyone should have to, but still he carries on.

I could swear throughout the beginning we could make the comparison of tea to something else... I'm not sure if it was a completely conscious decision on your part, and in a way the two themes mirror each other throughout the story (if you didn't plan it, your literary instincts have just become absolutely astounding) ...but I have fun reading it that way, --

"However, he did miss his..." Let's use the word... 'companionship'

"There had been a favored kind" (of companionship), "one he'd acquired a taste for long before the Wars, during his apprenticeship, as a matter-of-fact; it was minty and sweet, but with a spicy edge"

"Qui-Gon had started him on it, and in the beginning Obi-Wan remembered thinking that it tasted like something out of the vile end of a gundark. However, after giving it more than a passing chance ? and possibly to please his Master ? he developed a fondness... and would take it in any form, at any temperature: warm, cold, somewhere in-between. It mattered not. Obi-Wan loved..."

Well, you get the idea Okay, I've read this many times, but I do have a valid argument, I do think his fondness for tea in this story is something of a metaphor for his propensity to care about people. And I think his weakness for wanting tea is much easier for him to admit than him wanting companionship, especially in light of his self appointed exile.

But I just adore, that within months, love does find a way and there's someone right there in front of him that's lovely and needs him too. It's just inevitable and I'd like to think it's The Force, fate, whatever, not allowing him to punish himself.

There's so many wonderful parts, I'll pick out a few more:

**No, there was no recognition, but there was something else.**

I love this spark of interest from her (gosh how I would love to see her thoughts!) though but of course, in perfect Obi-Wan fashion, he refuses to name it.

Her flirting is so cute, when she catches him savoring the smell of the tea. And with our first experience with the just the aroma of the tea (and his in awhile?) we get our first hint of a connection between them, some teasing, a smile here and there and the theme continues...

And then we get a spark of interest from him, something he can't quite define inside, and still he refuses to name it.


**but the door would be open for more of its kind, and he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about such a thing, now.**

The door for him caring about her would be open, is what he means , and he has only a bit of duty now to use as an excuse...

But he's not hopeless, lol

**However, he knew that duty would only be a deterrent for so

 

And I don't even like tea, I'm a coffee person but your story was brilliant and made me think that there is something wonderful in that tea.

Do you take it with sugar??

His nose wrinkled involuntarily. No self-respecting Cyrodil tea-drinker would taint the experience with such a thing. ?No, thank you.?

Ahh a man after my own heart, no sugar

Well done laloga and you are very fortunate to have serendipityaey as your beta. Her stories are great
I know I read them.

 

I could have sworn I'd reviewed this - but it was worth another read, it's that good.

I can only echo what the others have said.