TPF Chapter 7

Even Jedi have to eat. That’s normal.

The strange bit is doing it naked, sitting on the steps of an ancient, Sith temple. Ryoke can’t stop complaining about the rations they brought along on the shuttle, but Enthea doesn’t mind them.

“I can’t understand it,” Ryoke complains bitterly, licking her spoon and gazing at the mural on the wall. “These Sith teachings are too similar to our own.”

“Doesn’t look like any Jedi temple that I’ve ever seen,” Enthea murmurs uncertainly.

“It’s not. But the writings, the imagery. It’s not about power and destruction, those are normal Sith things. It’s about opening oneself up. Harmony has always been thought to be a Jedi tenet,” Ryoke says firmly. “I know that you’ve been taught the same.”

Enthea nods.

“So why would the Sith be so interested in it? What could make them suddenly so interested in finding balance? They’ve always wanted the opposite. But it’s not sudden, is it?” she muses. “This temple has been here for thousands of years.”

“The Chiss gave us a hint,” Enthea says. “When we went into the dungeon. She said that surrender would allow us to survive.”

“That wasn’t the whole truth,” Ryoke says firmly.

“It wasn’t?”

“No. That creature down there won’t hurt us if we don’t fight it.”

“Oh. Well…” Enthea frowns. “That doesn’t help us now, does it?”

“I know.” Ryoke sighs. “Or does it? We got in and out of the dungeon very quickly, Enthea. We didn’t look around down there. I wonder if there isn’t more to see.”

Enthea doesn’t like the sound of this. What Ryoke is suggesting is dangerous.

“Don’t worry,” Ryoke says, seeing the look on Enthea’s face. “You don’t have to go in the water. And you’ll be there to protect me if I’m wrong, just like you did with Obi-Wan.”

“It’s risky.”

“Fear is the way to the Dark Side,” Ryoke says in a singsong voice, finishing her snack and setting the cup aside. She stands up.

“So is recklessness,” Enthea grumbles, but she gets up. “Can we wear clothes for this?”

“We could,” Ryoke says, using the **** to summon her lightsaber. “But what would be the point?”

Right. It’s wet down there.

Enthea has a bad feeling about this, but she follows Ryoke into the temple and to the staircase. Lewd artwork surrounds them as they descend. The dim light below the temple puts Enthea on edge. There’s nothing pleasant about the memory of their last visit here. The experience was intense, but not comfortable.

Maybe it’ll be different this time.

They emerge from the stairwell, walking out over the rough stone floor that leads to the pool in the low, but deceptively large chamber. Together, they stand at the edge. Ryoke hands Enthea her lightsaber.

“Stay calm,” she cautions the Padawan. “If I’m in trouble, you’ll know.”

“Are you sure? The Chiss said this thing could kill us.”

“It can. But only if you **** it to. Use your feelings, Enthea. Does the creature in this water mean us harm?”

Enthea frowns and closes her eyes, reaching out with the ****. This place feels dangerous, but Ryoke has a point. Enthea senses no hostile intent.

“Wait here,” Ryoke says with a reassuring smile.

Enthea holds the two lightsabers at the ready, tempted to turn them on, but she does. She feels a bit silly being naked in this situation, but her mouth is dry as she watches Ryoke descend into the water. She wades out serenely, holding her arms out away from her body.

Almost immediately, ripples appear in the water. Enthea tenses as slender, fleshy tendrils rise out of the water, but Ryoke motions for her not to act.

The tendrils surround Ryoke, beginning to touch her. One starts to wrap around her arm, and she giggles as another brushes her hip. The only thing keeping Enthea from leaping into action is the fact that the way the things move is almost tender.

“Oh my,” Ryoke says as one wraps around her leg. Then another. “I’m all right,” she says shakily as the tendrils lift her into the air. Enthea isn’t convinced, but her feelings tell her that Ryoke is in no danger.

The tendrils squeeze her flesh. One snakes around her back, then circles her breast. Another swirls around her thigh, creeping higher and making her gasp. They spread her legs, and she dangles in the air. Her eyes are wild, but not with distress.

The Theelin bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut as one tendril almost hesitantly probes her wet slit, then pushes inside.

“Mmm,” Ryoke moans, her body tensing. Another one appears from behind her, rubbing against her face and lips. She opens her mouth to let it in, wiggling as even more of them appear, stroking her skin. The tendrils grow more insistent, and so do Ryoke’s muffled noises of pleasure.

Her body jerks and quivers, and so do the dozens of appendages holding her up. The one in her mouth pops out and Ryoke gasps desperately. Suddenly appearing limp and wilted, the tendrils lower her to the water, where she finds her feet. Her legs wobble, and her thighs are soaked.

“Oh,” she says, placing her hand on her chest. Her eyes focus and fall on Enthea, who stands there holding two lightsabers and boasting a twitching, full-sized, aching erection. “I didn’t know it was going to do that. I thought it would let me pass.” She laughs shakily. “Come on, Enthea. The water’s fine.”

“Will it do that to me?” Enthea says weakly.

“I think it’s tired out,” Ryoke says.