Title:No Regrets
Author:Moonscribe
Rating:R-Sexual situations
Category:Drama
Timeline:Pre-TPM
Disclaimer:All characters are owned by LucasArts and affiliates and no infringement is intended by this story. This story is purely for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made by it's creation.

It was late as Aalea Ra'Shon, the Republic's emissary to the planet of Jalat, walked back alone to the pink-stoned house that had been her home and base of operations for the past three months. The celebrations marking the end of the hostility between the opposing sides of the Jalatan Confederation had gone on for hours; people feasting, drinking and toasting each other.

At the celebration, Qui-Gon Jinn, the Jedi Knight who had been sent by the Jedi Council and Chancellor Valorum to assist her with the negotiations, had sat quietly at the table across from her, acknowledging, with a slight nod and a small smile, every drunken toast offered to him by the Jalatans. He had, however, graciously declined their offers to join them in their imbibing of the local ale. Sipping only the sweet Jalatan water, he had looked across at Aalea, a faint glint of humor in his eyes, and something more, though Aalea hadn't been sure what it was. A question perhaps? An invitation? She hadn't known and because she had not wanted to encourage her own decidedly fevered imagination, she had spent the rest of the evening avoiding his presence.

Ever since he had arrived on Jalat they had spent nearly every waking hour together, poring over documents, drafting and re-drafting treaties, meeting with representatives from both sides. She had greatly admired his patience as he had sat at the negotiation table day after day, night after night, listening quietly as the opposing sides had raged at each other. Sometimes she had barely been able to keep her eyes open during those nights when the talks had stretched into the early morning hours, but Qui-Gon had never seemed to tire. Finally, after what had seemed an eternity of setbacks and delays, the two sides had finally come to agreement. The treaty was signed, hands shaken, backs patted and holophotos taken, marking the historic moment. And of course, the celebration, which Aalea had quietly excused herself from.

Sighing, she opened the door to the house that she shared with Qui-Gon. He was leaving tomorrow and she would probably never see him again and that, she was sure, was for the best. She stopped at the door to his rooms. He had left the celebration early, so she'd assumed that he had returned to the house to prepare for his departure tomorrow. She raised her hand to knock on his door, hesitated. She had to see him one more time before tomorrow, if only to---? She shook her head. To what?

Aalea knocked on the door. She waited, holding her breath, but there was no sound from behind it. She pressed her forehead against the door. What was she doing? She was a fool to think that there was anything more between them than friendship. To imagine more than that was a dangerous delusion.

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Qui-Gon made his way down the darkened streets to his rooms. He had been walking for nearly an hour since leaving the celebration. His thoughts churned inside him. Aalea. He could not recall a time when he had wanted a woman so much. Yet, it wasn't just her wild, dark beauty that he found attractive. During the hectic and stressful weeks of the negotiations, he had been impressed by her intelligence, her compassion, and her patience. She also possessed a quick, darting wit that he had found particularly refreshing.

At the celebration he had noticed that Aalea had pointedly avoided him. Every time he had tried to catch and hold her eyes, she had met his only briefly; she had then hurriedly glanced away or down, refusing to hold his gaze. There was still so much fear in her; fear of him, fear of herself. Fears he could help dissipate if she would only let him. He sighed and clasped his hands behind his back. His robe swished slowly across the ground. He noted, despite his own misgivings, how his heart beat hard at the thought of how he'd like to love her, to touch her, to show her that the potential for beauty that lay within her was not something to turn away from, but to cherish.

He turned down the lane that led to the house they shared. Tomorrow he would be living Jalat and, the Force willing, if they were meant to be together, they would be. Though, in all honesty, he was not sure what he could give her in the long run. He was a Jedi Knight, after all. That would always come first in his life.

Qui-Gon stopped as he entered the house. Aalea was standing before the door to his rooms, her head resting against it. He couldn't see her face, but the light from Jalat's twin moons lit up her slender body and her dark hair, and he knew, instinctively, that she wanted what he wanted. And he would give it to her, all that he had to offer, with slow, heartfelt explorations. Together they would face her fears and he would show her that they were nothing more than the mists that burned away in the face of the morning sun.

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"Aalea," a voice called from the darkness. Aalea turned towards the entrance. Qui-Gon stood in the doorway, the night sky a star-bejeweled backdrop behind the tall silhouette of his shadowed figure. Her heart beat quickly as he strode into the light of the hall's glow-globe. He stopped and looked across at her, his blue gaze piercing the distance between them.

Aalea stared back at him. Her throat moved but she could not speak. Suddenly there was a universe of words she wanted to say to him, but she was frozen, unable to move. She lifted her hand slightly towards him, her eyes pleading.

Without a word, he moved towards her and swept her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms about his neck, and pressed her face against his shoulder, his long hair flowing across her skin. Yes, yes, he wants this. And so do I.

His mouth brushed against her hair. As he carried her into his room, he gently kissed her face. Once they were inside, he quietly pushed the door shut behind them. Aalea's pulse quickened and she trembled in his arms as he carried her to the bed and laid her down slowly upon it. He sat next to her. His large hand caressed her face as he gazed down at her.

"Do you truly want this?", he asked.

"Yes" she replied. "I do." Her heart jolted and her pulse pounded in her throat, for the touch of his hand on her face was almost unbearable in its tenderness.

"And you?," she asked, "do you---?"

"Yes," he said.

Aalea smiled, but then a tremor of apprehension passed through her. Although she had spent nearly every day of the last three months with him did she really know him? Yes, he was a Jedi Knight, sworn to protect and serve the Republic and her citizens. Yes, he was Master to a young apprentice for whom he apparently cared a great deal. And, yes, he was also a man of great strength and compassion, but there was still so much she did not know about him.

As Qui-Gon looked down at her a small frown creased his forehead. She knew he was sensing her disquiet.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She grasped his hand. "I'm afraid," she said.

A slightly startled look came into his eyes. "Of me?" he asked.

"No" she responded after some hesitation. "Perhaps of what will happen, but not of you."

He looked into her eyes and his gaze was soft as a caress. "And what do you fear will happen?"

"That I won't be able to let you go. Knowing that I must."

He nodded at that. "It is a fear I share."

"What should we do?"

His large hand grasped her face and held it gently. "I cannot promise anything, Aalea. I want you, more than I have ever wanted anyone. But, you must understand..."

She pressed his mouth closed with her hand. "I do understand." She slipped her hand along his face, her fingers skimming across his beard, tangling through his hair. He was so compelling, so enthralling, and she wanted him so much. She would not concern herself with the future. Only this night, this moment mattered.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yes, oh, yes," she cried, and she wrapped her arms about his neck.

He pressed his lips to hers, his mouth caressing more than kissing her. Aalea closed her eyes, and a soft gasp escaped her. She returned the caresses of his mouth with hers, their lips barely touching, their breaths mingling. Desire surged through her veins like wine and she moaned softly in his arms. He deepened his kiss in response, his mouth moving over hers so slowly that she could only imagine that he wanted to savor the taste of her.

Too soon, too soon, he broke the kiss and pulled slightly away from her. Aalea opened her eyes and looked up at him, a passionate fluttering rising in the depths of her being. Sighing, he laid down next to her, his eyes unfathomable in the darkness, his arms about her, his long hair tickling her cheek.

For long quiet moments they lay like that, their arms about each other, the only sounds their mingled breaths, the purling of the stream below the open window of the bedroom, the crooning of a Jalatan moonbird as it called plaintively to its absent mate. Aalea wasn't entirely sure why he had stopped kissing her, but just to lie there with him, alone, unafraid, quiet, gave her such peace that she was loathe to do anything to disturb it.

However, curiosity got the better of her. She looked over at Qui-Gon's shadowed profile. She reached over and drew her finger down his crooked nose.

"How did this happen?," she whispered.

He turned towards her. He didn't answer her at first, only looked over at her, his eyes sparking with laughter. "Yoda broke it," he said finally, a smile fluttering about his mouth.

"But, how? Why?" she asked.

"It happened, long ago, when I was his apprentice." He chuckled softly at the memory. "Let's just say that one afternoon I was not being particularly attentive during a very important lesson. But, are you sure you want to hear about that now? Or would you rather----?" and he drew his hand slowly down her arm.

She shivered. "I would very much like to hear the story," she murmured. "But later. Much later."

He smiled at that, and leaning over, reclaimed her lips. Cautiously, then hurriedly, they removed their clothing and Aalea gazed in wonder at the beauty of this magnificent man she held within her arms. And as his eyes roved and lazily appraised her, she saw that he was also pleased.

She drew her hands down his chest, her fingers fluttering like butterflies against his warm skin. By the Lady of Light, she wanted him, more than she had ever wanted anything in her life, and, realizing that, with a rough cry, she lifted her hands from his chest and braided her fingers into his long hair, crushing her mouth onto his. He moaned in response and his arms tightened about her, their mouths locked in the heat of their passion.

She gasped with a sweet agony as he moved over her, his unbound hair brushing across her face and down her body. She inhaled sharply as his lips grazed over her mouth, along her neck, across her shoulder, slowly working a tortuous path down her body; lightly, shyly, then insistently. She sighed as his hands and his mouth explored every inch of her with a tender intensity that made her blood sing and her senses reel.

He was an ocean inside her and his touch was its wave, surging and cascading over her, until she was certain that nothing of her existed, body or soul, that he had not touched or explored to the limits of her conscious awareness. Until, to her unutterable delight, as she quivered and trembled beneath him, as her cries of passion twirled through the air like the singing of the moonbirds in the trees outside, he discovered new coves and caverns and valleys within her. He flowed into them until she bloomed beneath him, willingly, completely, and entirely, her trust in him now absolute; for no one had ever touched her like this. . . no one.

The sweet fragrance of blood-roses perfuming the night air, the golden blush of the Jalatan moons on his skin and hair and eyes, the sounds their bodies made as they moved against each other, all of it overwhelmed Aalea's senses as she felt herself drawn up into a bright void where there was nothing but pure awareness. No thought. No emotion. Nothing to complicate the glory of this moment.

And as she touched him in turn, her hands kneading and stroking the very core of him, she reveled in the moans of surprise and passion he uttered, his mouth warm and moist against her skin, his body soldered onto hers. He seared his lips down her neck, across her shoulders, along the curve of her stomach, leaving a trail of fire on her skin. She wrapped herself about him and he, his breath short and sharp, his arms like steel bands about her, gazed down upon her and asked with his eyes if this was what she wanted. And she, her body flooded with love, her senses reeling with desire, could only whisper---yes, yes, please, yes---and gently, slowly, she opened herself to him with an elation that enflamed her soul.

She nearly swooned as a wave of rapture swept over her when they were finally one. Desire blazed like the light of a hundred suns, and bliss, unlike anything she could ever have imagined, flowed like the solar winds through her soul. And even as their passions were joined as one, so were their bodies also intertwined in that timeless, ancient rhythm of love, until, with a deep, soul-shattering cry, Qui-Gon collapsed onto her, his breath ragged, his heart hammering over hers like a drum.

And as her own rapture exploded within her and she shattered into a billion shimmering stars, he held her tightly as she trembled in his arms, his lips sweeping along her neck and across her face as waves of ecstasy throbbed through her. Her breath rose and fell in long, shuddering moans, until, finally, softly, she spent herself completely in his arms. As she sighed in pleasant exhaustion, she felt herself slowly dissipating, misting away into the moist night air that enveloped them, until nothing remained of her but her soft sighs of absolution and his shuddering breaths of release as they each lay, satiated, in the other's arms. Her heart was hammering in concert with his, and the aftermath of their passion spread from them like waves from a gently quieting pool, thrumming the air about them like the plucked strings of a Denebian lyre.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, his hair sweeping across her. Pulling away he gazed down at her, his eyes warm with pleasure. "I would like to see you again," he said softly.

Aalea smiled sadly in the darkness. "But...?"

He cupped her chin gently with his fingers, caressed the edges of her lips.

"But I can not lie, Aalea. My life..."

"Don't say anymore, Qui-Gon", Aalea said. "I understand. You have your life, your destiny, your responsibilities. As do I."

She reached up, took his hand in hers. She looked at it, marveling at how large and strong it was, yet how gently it had explored her body. She lightly kissed the fingers, grazed her mouth across the palm. "I have no regrets, Qui-Gon. Not now, not ever."

She held his face in her hands, looked deeply into his eyes. "Now, please, before the sun rises and the moons set forever, leave me with a memory that will last a lifetime."

His steady gaze bore into her, searching, questioning. She looked back at him, unafraid, trusting. Finally, discovering the answer he sought within her eyes, without a word, hr lowered his mouth to hers once again. Aalea closed her eyes. No regrets, she whispered in her mind. No regrets.

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And later that day, after the twin moons of Jalat had finally set and the sun had risen high above the horizon, Aalea Ra'Shon, the Republic's emissary to the people and sovereignty of Jalat, watched with a heart both saddened and joyous as the ship carrying the Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn soared away into the endless sky above her.

The End