Tags

, , , , , , ,

A couple of days ago, I was walking past Obi-Wan’s room on my way to the breakfast room, which was empty, to meet with Gervaise in order to get to work on his story. However, as I drew level with his room, I spotted Ventress standing outside it, shouting through the keyhole. Instantly intrigued, I ducked into one of the conveniently-placed curtained alcoves that are scattered all over the old house. Frankly, with those things in place, I’m surprised there are any secrets left in the House of Selay’uu at all.

I had arrived too late to witness Ventress’ initial arrival and shouts through the keyhole, but now I could hear Obi-Wan’s reply quite clearly, despite the fact that there was a door, a hallway’s worth of open space, a former Sith, and a curtain between us. “Go away, Ventress! I’m busy!”

“Oh, come on!” Ventress growled, at her most sultry (and, most irritating, for both me and Obi-Wan,) I thought. Was she trying to ask him out? I stuffed my hand in my mouth to stifle the giggles. If she was, she’d have to beat Morgana to it–and besides, Obi-Wan didn’t date people that I knew of, and I could not imagine him dating anyone at any rate. “What’s so important? What are you doing in there? Not washing up, I hope?” There was a loud bang and a sharp clatter as something hit the door and Ventress jumped backwards in an attempt to not get jarred. Obi-Wan had thrown something–a pewter mug, perhaps. Maybe even the self-same one he normally kept his pens in. I inwardly grinned. Testy. This was going to be a show to remember.

“I’m listening to Vivaldi! Clear off!” Obi-Wan shouted back. Ventress growled again, really grumpy now.

“You need to learn to make better excuses, Obi-Wan dear.”

“You scarcely know me, Ventress. That wasn’t an excuse. Go boil your head.”

No matter what else Ventress said or did, short of cutting the door open (which would have gotten her confined to her own room, sans either lightsaber and stripped of the Force by the order of the Council), Obi-Wan would not make any further reply to her shouts, and at last Ventress lost interest and wandered off. Suddenly remembering my own appointment, I hurried off as well. I was late, but Gervaise didn’t complain.

Later, as I passed Ventress on the way to bed, I added insult to her injury by humming “Do You Want to Build a Snowman” rather conspicuously. Ahhh… life in the House of Selay’uu.

Advertisements