TPF Chapter 9

The underground cavern has lost its sense of menace. It’s still dark and wet, but now it feels more placid than threatening.

Ryoke hauls herself out of the water, dripping, onto a stone ledge. She reaches back to help Enthea. Enthea clambers up but slips. Ryoke catches her, which wouldn’t be anything memorably if not for the fact that she’s naked. And what Enthea just witnessed.

Ryoke giggles; her encounter with the creature has done something to her mood.

Enthea still isn’t comfortable with it, but she has to admit that what Ryoke did was more in keeping with the Jedi way than simply chopping the creature to bits. More pleasurable, too.

Enthea clears her throat and steps back. Ryoke raises the light to reveal the carvings on the wall, and she isn’t giggling now.

“What do you see, Enthea?” she asks.

“Something is happening,” Enthea replies, placing her hand on the wall. It’s a complex image, and not straightforward to interpret: a tangle of lines, although some things are clear enough. “These are planets. A hundred of them at least. This is Alderaan.”

“And this is Jakku,” Ryoke says. “What are these lines? Is it a map? Trade routes?”

“I don’t know what trade routes would be doing in a Sith Temple,” Enthea counters. “They represent something. How old do you think this place is?”

“Very old. The sand here is fine and soft, but you’ve seen how much it’s eroded the temple,” Ryoke says distractedly. “Maybe even older than Ahch-To. Much older, see.” She points at the three symbols near the top of the carving. “Three symbols, not two.”

Enthea understands. Ryoke is talking about what came before the Jedi Order: the Je’daii. Rather than light and dark, the Je’daii saw the **** in three aspects: light, dark, and the Bendu, which meant balance.

But that way of thinking wasn’t sustainable. The **** Wars on Typhon, centuries ago, gave the Je’daii **** but to see the galaxy in a more clearly-defined way. Enthea is a good student, and she’s always attentive in her history lessons at the temple.

“No one’s ever comfortable talking about the Je’daii,” Ryoke muses, continuing to examine the image. “They might be our predecessors, but the Council of today would never approve of their ways.” She frowns.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. It just makes me think,” Ryoke says with a little smile. “I don’t know what these lines are supposed to mean, but I believe it has to do with whatever was in here.” She looks down at a stone box, whose lid is ever so slightly ajar. She kneels and pushes the lid a bit further, shining the light in. The box is empty. “Someone’s already been here.”

“The Chiss Priestess?”

“I don’t think so.” Ryoke looks worriedly out over the dark water. “I don’t know, but my feelings tell me that we are making a mistake.

Ryoke’s uneasiness is contagious. Even after they return to the ship, she’s on edge. Ryoke is troubled, but still serene. Enthea envies that as they enter the shower. The creature in the lake under the temple might be friendly, but the water still doesn’t smell very good. They need to get the lake water and sand off.

As they rinse, Ryoke senses Enthea’s worry.

“Don’t be afraid,” she says, turning to look at her as she washes her hair. “I’m not Obi-Wan. It’s not my job to lecture you about fear and the Dark Side.”

“Right,” Enthea replies, embarrassed. Not at the implied scolding, but from the view. Washing her hair causes Ryoke to reach up and back, arching her back and pushing her chest out.

“We’ll contact the Council,” Ryoke goes on, or starts to, but she moves and bumps against Enthea. It’s not a very large shower. She forgets whatever she was about to say and turns around again. Enthea tries to cover her erection.

A long moment passes, and Ryoke’s indecision is palpable. Finally, she meets Enthea’s eyes.

“I guess what happened down there was a lot to have to see,” she says, putting her arms around the Padawan. Enthea’s… limited height means that her face is buried in the Theelin’s soft, wet breasts. Her cock, pressed against Ryoke’s thigh, just twitches and gets bigger.

“Sorry,” Enthea mumbles, overwhelmed.

“Hush,” Ryoke tells her, pulling her to the wall of the shower. Keeping Enthea close, Ryoke lifts one leg. Enthea takes the hint. Dying of shame, she still grabs Ryoke’s thigh and fumbles awkwardly with her cock.

Enthea has only been with humans, never a Theelin. Ryoke is tighter, firmer inside, and more… textured. She’s a hundred times more stimulating than anything that Enthea has felt. Enthea pushes in desperately, burying her face in Ryoke’s chest.

“Mmm,” Ryoke moans encouragingly, rubbing Enthea’s back as hot water pours on them both. Enthea can’t hold back. She’s not thinking about slipping on the shower floor, or anything except how it feels inside the older Jedi.

Ryoke gasps sharply when Enthea clamps her mouth over one dark, rock-hard nipple, still thrusting feverishly. This frenzied coupling, standing up in the shower, doesn’t last.

Enthea squeezes Ryoke’s body in a **** grip, emptying herself inside her.

Spent, she falls to her knees so suddenly that Ryoke doesn’t have time to catch her. She kneels on the floor of the shower, water pouring on, dazed and limp.

Ryoke is still leaning against the wall, Enthea’s load leaking out of her. Seeing that, Enthea is flooded with guilt.

“Oh,” Ryoke sighs, placing one hand on her belly and shivering. She smiles. “Maybe I should try to be a bit more like Obi-Wan.”