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Ascension (continued)

by Artemis ( jedilover99@hotmail.com )

Continued from part 1

After enjoying savory crepes from a street vendor, Obi-Wan headed back to the Archives compound. In a few hours, Rakta would be contacting him with the arrangements for the tour. He was looking forward to seeing the Archives, but felt guilty for the deceptively earned honor.

Master Jinn has been here three weeks, Obi-Wan thought as he turned the corner onto the corridor leading to his room. He must have been furious when my master told him I would be seeing the Archives. I'm sure that's why she sent me away.

Just as Obi-Wan came up to his door he saw a flower lying before it, a crimson orchid. He stopped and looked down at it for a moment, feeling a sudden sickness in his belly. He bent down and picked it up, turning it in his trembling hand. It was the same flower he had given Master Jinn the day before.

Obi-Wan looked each way down the corridor. Master Jinn had been here, but how long ago? Was it right after he had spoken to Knight Laren? Was he returning the flower because he was unhappy about the tour? Or because he truly did not want the other Jedi here?

I gave him the flower in friendship, Obi-Wan thought. Maybe he is telling me we cannot be friends after last night.

With that thought Obi-Wan put his hand to the wall to stop from crumpling to the ground. It was the strangest feeling as though someone had pulled a rug out from under him. He couldn't understand why it should matter, but it did. He had to find Master Jinn and discover the truth.

Using the skills he was well trained in, Obi-Wan tracked the Jedi master. He opened himself to the Force and reached out for traces of the other Jedi's Force signature. Steadily, Obi-Wan followed the same path Qui-Gon had taken after leaving the flower at his door. The young Jedi clutched the orchid in his hand as he crossed the courtyard and turned down garden paths until he reached an area he had not yet explored... an area of footpaths and heavy woods.

He sensed Qui-Gon was close now, and picked up his pace, turning off his comlink so as not to be disturbed in his search. Here and there along the path colored ribbons were tied to branches and staked into the ground. Obi-Wan recognized immediately that they were prayer ribbons and that he was in a sacred place or fast approaching one. He slowed his steps, unconsciously showing reverence for those who had passed here before him.

When the ribbons became more numerous along the path and in the tree branches above, Obi-Wan opened his senses more fully to reach out with every fiber of his being. It was then that he saw amid a dense circle of trees an ancient stone ruin. He stepped into the circle and knew he was standing in a place of great importance to the Tracepians... perhaps the place where their civilization had begun.

Master Jinn is here, Obi-Wan thought with a flutter of nerves.

He passed through an arched doorway into the partially standing structure. The roof was gone, but most of the walls were intact, and moss and forest debris now covered the once shining black stone floors. Obi-Wan tried to imagine the many people who had come and gone from this place centuries past, and people who still visited and left small offerings.

"I wonder what this was used for?" he asked, aloud as he looked around at the bare walls and empty rooms.

"It was the first Archives," a voice answered him from behind.

Obi-Wan swung around, but unafraid, he did not draw his lightsaber. His eyes adjusted to the deep shadows and dim light in the ruin and soon settled on the figure of a man sitting on a large stone in the far corner. "Master Jinn," Obi-Wan said, confirming the ownership of the voice. "Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Qui-Gon said. His heart had been lifted from its lament when he saw Obi-Wan step into the former great hall.

After leaving the orchid at the door to the young man's room, Qui-Gon had come to this place seeking to calm his rising emotions. It was not like him to be so preoccupied with another and to feel so much anxiety over not being in their presence. All this because Obi-Wan had awakened something inside him. He had hoped the ruins, which Yoda had shown him so many years before, would soothe the ache of rejection, for surely that was what Obi-Wan had done... rejected his advances.

Obi-Wan took a breath and walked toward the Jedi master. He knew he should not be here, not because it was a sacred place, but because he was defying his own master's wishes. But he had to know why Qui-Gon had returned the flower.

When he was standing within arm's length of the seated master, Obi- Wan held out the orchid. "Why did you give this back to me?"

Qui-Gon looked up into the youthful face and sighed. He didn't want to push Obi-Wan away, but he knew he had to protect his own heart. "Your gift came with a promise of friendship... but we cannot be friends, Padawan Kenobi."

The truth tightened in Obi-Wan's chest. He had hurt Qui-Gon and for that he was truly sorry. "If it's because of how I reacted to..."

Qui-Gon held up his hand to silence him. "If you would like to leave the orchid here, I'm sure the ancients would be pleased by your offering."

A sudden rush of warmth and vertigo raced through Obi-Wan. Somehow he managed not to falter on his feet, but the sense of desperation he now felt made his heart pound and his entire body shake. Obi-Wan had never known desperation before, a force that made him want to act on emotion and not wait until he could find his inner calm. He stepped forward with determination and raised a trembling hand to Qui-Gon's face, lightly touching the man's beard. The voice of desperation spoke to him... pushed him to act now!

"The only offering I wish to make... is myself to you," Obi-Wan said, looking deep into the Jedi master's blue eyes.

He stood frozen, breathless, waiting to be rebuffed. He could hardly believe it himself, that he had made such a declaration, but then to his shock, Qui-Gon reached his hand out and lightly ran Obi-Wan's padawan braid between his fingers. Both men gazed into each other's eyes, just as they had the night before.

Qui-Gon could barely contain his joy and the renewed hope that swelled in his chest. "And I offer myself to you, Obi-Wan," he said finally when he found his voice again.

Obi-Wan gasped at the words. No one had ever offered themself to him. No one had ever affected him in this way... stirring his body without a meditative trance and making his heart pound with the fear of rejection and the anticipation of acceptance and fulfillment. He was at once terrified and elated by the change of emotions within him, and nothing could stop him now from acting on his desire.

He bent down and Qui-Gon met his lips in a welcoming kiss. The touch set their bodies tingling with the promise it held... that they accepted and wanted each other. Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around Obi- Wan's waist, pulling him closer, and Obi-Wan put his hands on the Jedi master's shoulders to steady himself. They stayed like that for a long moment, kissing and holding each other, almost too much in awe of what was happening to dare to do more.

Finally, Qui-Gon pulled back and looked up into the young man's flushed face. "You're not running away," he said, grinning.

"No, I'm not," Obi-Wan said a bit soberly. The consequence of what he wanted to do with this man was too great for him to fathom in this moment. All he cared about now was the need to share himself with Qui- Gon and to dissolve into this new, wondrous feeling that was quickly consuming him. "I want you," Obi-Wan said, his body alight with desire. "I want you like I've never wanted anyone before."

Qui-Gon stood, putting his hands on Obi-Wan's upper arms. "Are you sure, Padawan? Last night..."

This time it was Obi-Wan's turn to silence the other man. "Last night I was frightened by what I felt for you."

"And today?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Today, I want to face those fears."

Without another word, Qui-Gon let his hands slip down Obi-Wan's arms, to take the younger man's hands in his. He led him further into the ruins of the ancient Archives until they came into a room with nearly all its walls still intact and a soft bed of moss covering the stone floor. Qui-Gon shed his dark brown robe and lay it on the ground.

"Let me make love to you here," Qui-Gon said, as he knelt on his robe before Obi-Wan, holding his hands once again. "Let us make love under the canopy of the forest and within the walls of this ancient place of knowledge."

"Let us listen to each other's beating hearts in this place of wisdom," Obi-Wan said, quoting an ancient Tracepian poem he had read on the journey to Tracep I, a poem he had not understood until this moment.

Qui-Gon smiled at Obi-Wan's beautiful response and pulled him down to kneel with him, the orchid dropping between them. They explored each other's faces with reverent, feather light touches, as they learned each other and became increasingly aware that this was really happening.

At first these touches were enough to satisfy, but soon the fires that had been smoldering within them, since their first meeting, ignited into flame. Obi-Wan was caught up in his body's powerful reaction to Qui-Gon's nearness. He needed him. Needed to be consumed and drowned and torn apart and put back together in this man's arms. Needed to understand what this feeling was that burned so brightly in his breast.

He leaned forward and took Qui-Gon's mouth in a hungry kiss, their teeth gnashing together in that first fierce contact. The older Jedi's hands came up and held Obi-Wan's face as they kissed deeper and opened themselves to receive tongues and the sounds of needy moans. Eventually, Qui-Gon's hands released Obi-Wan's face and drifted down to begin stripping the apprentice of his clothes. Obi- Wan followed the example and groped with closed eyes as he searched for fastenings and moaned louder as each layer of their Jedi uniforms was shed.

Naked, they fell back onto the Jedi master's robe, Qui-Gon pinning the smaller man beneath him. He was so aroused that he thrust into Obi-Wan's thigh, needing any contact he could get.

"Yes," Obi-Wan moaned between kisses, as his hands roamed over the broad back. "Take me, Master," he said, delighted in the man's obvious desire for him.

"Not yet," Qui-Gon said, and then kissed Obi-Wan's lips deeply before pulling back, letting his tongue map a wet path down the younger man's neck and chest, down to his flat belly, dipping inside his navel and then taking his hardened cock into his mouth.

The sudden engulfing of Obi-Wan's sex into the warmth and pressure of Qui-Gon's mouth made the young man cry out. These pleasures, experienced a thousand times with near strangers, had never been like this. They had been duty. They had been performed as a service to the Force... to attain peace and harmony in the galaxy. But now, under Qui-Gon's expert touch, Obi-Wan felt delirious, giddy... reborn. He could hardly wait to be joined bodily to this man.

"Take me," Obi-Wan said again, hooking his leg over Qui-Gon's back, exposing his opening.

This time the Jedi master didn't refuse. He moistened a finger in his mouth as he sucked the young man's cock and then pressed it to Obi- Wan's entrance. With little encouragement, the finger slipped inside and the younger Jedi moaned in satisfaction. At once, Qui-Gon moved his mouth up and down on Obi-Wan's cock while stroking the young man inside, slipping his finger in and out. In seconds a beautiful rhythm was found, sending Obi-Wan to planes he had not known existed in sex before. Despite all his training and artful techniques, Obi-Wan had never felt such pure joy and intensity from sex. His focus had always been on pleasing his partner... his own pleasure a fortunate side effect when it occurred.

Qui-Gon's hunger grew proportionately with Obi-Wan's reactions. The young man wanted this... wanted him... and was begging for their joining. The Jedi master felt a sense of awe for what they were sharing in this place. They were discovering each other, enlightening each other's hearts with their passion. At last Qui-Gon could no longer resist and gently removed his finger and pulled off Obi-Wan's cock, breathing with heavy arousal.

"Now," he growled, and moved up the younger man's body, taking Obi- Wan's mouth in a possessive kiss. This is a dream. It has to be, Qui- Gon thought as he devoured that sensuous mouth.

He had only met this boy the day before and now he was lying naked in his arms, pressed tightly against him, sweating, and moaning into his mouth. Obi-Wan had possessed him from that first moment. He wanted to know what Obi-Wan had felt... what he was feeling now... but the physical necessity of coupling was too great. Using his legs, Qui-Gon spread Obi-Wan, and then raised himself up on his hands to look down at the wanton creature beneath him. Obi-Wan's eyes were hooded with desire as he licked his bruised lips.

"Now?" Obi-Wan pleaded with a lusty smile.

Qui-Gon smiled and then sat back on his heels. He pushed Obi-Wan's knees toward the young man's chest and then positioned himself at his opening. With their eyes locked, Qui-Gon slicked his hard flesh with his own pre-cum and then pushed forward, pressing inside the tight, heated channel. He groaned as each inch of his cock slid into Obi- Wan. The young man's body accepted him completely and without reservation. Once joined they paused to wonder at the beauty of their union, each thinking how less than an hour ago their lives were still set on different paths.

The interlude lasted only a few heartbeats and then they were in motion, bodies thrusting slowly at first, and then with each jolt of pleasure, the rhythm increased. Obi-Wan held his knees to his chest for a time and then wrapped his legs around Qui-Gon's waist, hooking his ankles together to keep the man close and deep within him.

There, on the floor of the ancient Archives and within the shelter of its ruins and of the forest primeval, two Jedi made love, their bodies glistening with sweat, their voices heard only in moans of pleasure, their sex scenting the air with musk. And they gave themselves to each other as if it was the first time for each... seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling sex for the very first time. Long minutes later, they grunted and climaxed together, their bodies slick against each other... slapping together in the heat of their joining, spurting seed deep inside and between them.

Qui-Gon sagged on Obi-Wan as their bodies trembled with weakness and satiation. He wrapped himself around his lover as best he could, nuzzling the young man's padawan braid behind his right ear. Each took heavy, panting breaths as they slowly came down from the high they had built together and soon fell into a comfortable sleep, still joined and blissfully happy.

Some time later, the cawing of a large black bird stirred Obi-Wan awake. His eyes blinked open to see the sunlight filtering through the canopy above and into their private sanctuary. Qui-Gon was still asleep and mostly on top of him, though he had softened and was no longer inside him. The young Jedi heard the call of the bird again, and looked up to see it sitting on one of the ruin's walls. The bird tilted its head, eyeing them for a moment, and then flew away. Its brief presence sent a chill through him.

It was a dark premonition. Obi-Wan had broken a sacred tenet of the Eratti Code. He had made love to another Jedi. But worse still, he was sure that the feeling that had been growing inside him... tying him up in knots, filling him with equal amounts of joy and dread, could be only one thing... love. He was in love with Qui-Gon Jinn.

The revelation shook him to his very core, sending a sharp stab of panic into his gut. Falling in love was forbidden. The Eratti regarded love the way most Jedi looked on the Dark side of the Force... as an insidious entity that had to be guarded against at all costs. Love undermined the very essence of the Eratti, it was irrational and distracting. An Eratti in love would not be as willing to use the sexual arts as a means to peace. Such acts would be seen as a betrayal to a lover, and would therefore negate a key element within their sect, making them no longer Eratti.

"I have failed, Master," Obi-Wan said, softly, his heart sinking with the dread of his master's discovery.

He hadn't realized he had spoken the words aloud until Qui-Gon stirred. The Jedi master stretched and curled himself around his lover, pulling the younger man closer. He kissed Obi-Wan's ear, then his temple and then his cheek.

"Mmm, you're awake?" Qui-Gon asked, his body still warm and humming with the echoes of their lovemaking.

"Yes, but only just," Obi-Wan said, biting down on the feeling of guilt that was already threatening to overwhelm him.

Qui-Gon stroked Obi-Wan's flank, reveling in the touch of naked skin beneath his hand. "You are so beautiful, Obi-Wan," he said, kissing the younger man's lips lightly.

"Master..." Obi-Wan started to say, but his words were swallowed by the kiss. He was in awe of Qui-Gon, of the man's strength, calm and inner wisdom. He was in awe of how he made him forget everything else.

The older Jedi ran his fingers over Obi-Wan's face. "Beautiful," he said, again, repeating the word almost as a chant. "Tell me all about yourself, Obi-Wan."

"Master?"

"Tell me..." he said, kissing his face again as he worshipped this young man. "... everything."

Obi-Wan smiled and relaxed into his lover's embrace. He had never shared much of himself with anyone... no one had ever asked. "I don't know where to begin. I was raised in the Temple...."

"No, tell me about *you*. I want to know everything about you. How old are you? Do you enjoy watching sunsets? What is your favorite food?" "All right," Obi-Wan laughed. "I understand... You want to know all the things Jedi usually don't share."

"Yes," Qui-Gon said with a bright smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes in delight.

They lay in each other's arms with Obi-Wan's head resting on Qui- Gon's chest. He looked up into those gentle blue eyes and then beyond to the green of the forest above. They had found a temporary haven from the conflict and from the consequences of their love. But Obi- Wan would not speak of either now.

"To answer your first question, I am twenty," Obi-Wan said, looking into Qui-Gon's eyes once again. "I enjoy sunsets and try to watch them on each planet I visit and my favorite food would have to be the citrus salad of the Tomarlian People."

"Citrus salad? I took you for a carnivore," Qui-Gon said, running his fingers through Obi-Wan's short padawan haircut.

"Oh, I enjoy many different foods, but the Tomarlian citrus salad is an explosion of flavors that you can't imagine until you've tried it."

"You've convinced me," Qui-Gon said, laughing and holding his hands up as if in surrender. "I'll have to ask for it when I'm back at the Temple."

"And what about you?" Obi-Wan asked. "What can you tell me about yourself that is not obvious to the naked eye." He smiled devilishly and let his eyes rake over the long, naked body next to him.

Qui-Gon took him by the chin, tilting his face back up. "I'm pleased you're enjoying the scenery."

"You are more beautiful than the crimson orchid, Master."

"Are you a poet, Obi-Wan? You certainly have a way with words."

"I have studied poetry, but I never understood it before today."

Qui-Gon was sure Obi-Wan's heart was equally as full as his own, swelling as though it would burst. "I am more than twice your age... old enough to know that I shouldn't be falling for such beautiful young men. And yet here I am with you."

At first, Obi-Wan didn't know how to interpret that statement, but when Qui-Gon smiled and ran his fingers over Obi-Wan's lips, the young man exhaled in relief. "Would it be wrong of me to say that I feel as if I belong to you, Master?"

"Wrong because you are another's padawan? No, Obi-Wan. Your devotion to your master has nothing to do with what we share."

Obi-Wan fell silent. Of course his devotion to his master had *everything* to do with what he and Qui-Gon were sharing. He had betrayed his master and the Eratti and yet Qui-Gon spoke as if none of that mattered. Or didn't he know? Obi-Wan gasped as the realization hit. Could it be that Qui-Gon didn't know that Obi-Wan was an Eratti?

"No," Obi-Wan said, softly in a near sob, pulling back from the embrace. "I must go."

"Go? But we've only just begun to taste each other," Qui-Gon said, drawing his lover close and nuzzling his neck.

"I'm sorry, but I need to be ready when Rakta calls," Obi-Wan said, his heart pounding.

"Mmm, that won't be for some time yet," Qui-Gon said, preoccupied with images of Obi-Wan writhing beneath him. "It's still early and I want to make love to you again, Padawan."

The words vibrated through Obi-Wan's body as Qui-Gon's lips nibbled on his neck. How could he resist? He wanted that, too. "Yes," he breathed, wrapping his arms and legs around the other man and surrendering himself.

They made love again, slowly, as the morning waned and the sun grew more bright, streaming golden warmth on their joined bodies. Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan close as he filled the younger man with his hardened sex. They moved in a shared rhythm, seeking each other's lips in hungry kisses as each thrust brought them closer together.

Worlds moved around them, without them, as they explored one another, their focus narrowing to personal research. What angle of thrust caused those deep, low moans in Obi-Wan? How did Qui-Gon's back and buttock muscles move as he made love? They made intimate discoveries that only two lovers would find endlessly fascinating.

Mid-day was fast approaching and though both men felt the urge and energy to make love all day and into the night, they were still Jedi on a mission. Obi-Wan was the first to come, regretting the fact that he would have to be parted from Qui-Gon for a time. Qui-Gon followed with his own orgasm, spilling his seed deep into his lover, moaning, calling his name... loving him as he had loved no other. They lay exhausted, sweaty and breathing hard on Qui-Gon's robe.

"We must... get back," Qui-Gon said, gasping between words.

Obi-Wan laughed. "I tried to tell you... before."

"Then... we would have missed... this," Qui-Gon pointed out all too clearly.

Somehow they found the strength to clean up, as best they could, and dress each other. They stood in the sanctuary of the ruins, holding each other and kissing, for one last long moment.

"We'll find time to be together again," Qui-Gon said, assuredly, as he caressed Obi-Wan's back.

"My Master cannot know," Obi-Wan said, a bit anxiously, not wanting to bring up the subject again.

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed. "It would be best for now."

And with that agreement, Obi-Wan breathed a little easier as they walked hand-in-hand back to the Archives' compound. When they came into the gardens, they shared one last kiss, and then physically parted, each heading in a different direction. Obi-Wan looked back over his shoulder at Qui-Gon's retreating form. His heart ached as he watched his lover go. He longed to be with him, longed to indulge as lovers do, but he had to step back into his world... the world of the Eratti.

He must never know, Obi-Wan thought as he turned away and walked to his room. How he would keep Qui-Gon from knowing, he wasn't sure, but he would find a way.

In his room, Obi-Wan showered and had just finished dressing when he got a call on the commpanel from his master.

"Obi-Wan," Silva said, her features tight with frustration. "I've been trying to reach you all morning."

"Master," Obi-Wan said, bowing to the image on the screen. "There must be a problem with my comlink. I'll check it immediately." The lie came all too easily.

"Has Prince Rakta contacted you yet?"

"No, Master, but I expect he will at any time," he said, sitting down at the commpanel.

"I've had the most amazing morning speaking to the scientists and researchers who are waiting for the Archives to reopen. We must succeed in this mission, and very soon. There are critical studies suffering because of this civil war," she said, as she considered her apprentice's face. She couldn't be sure, but Silva thought something had changed in Obi-Wan. In a comm transmission it was hard to tell, and so she set the notion aside.

"I want to remind you of what to watch for during the tour," she continued. "It's important that you survey as much of the collection as possible. Obviously you will not know if something small is missing, but you can look for anything out of the ordinary."

"I'll ask Rakta to show me as much of the Archives as possible."

"Good, Padawan. And remember, it's important for you to maintain and build on the relationship you've begun with the prince. We cannot afford a setback at this point."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, bowing his head slightly. He knew what she meant. She wanted him to continue pleasuring Rakta. The thought made him shiver.

"I will be back from Enlightenment City by the time your tour is finished. I'll need to contact Master Jinn to see if he was successful in getting us an interview with Queen Ranna tonight. May the Force be with you, Padawan."

"Thank you, Master."

The transmission ended, but Obi-Wan did not move. He stared at the blank screen. One moment he felt horrible for deceiving his master and the next he felt elated for his love for Qui-Gon.

How had it happened? How had Qui-Gon Jinn cut through his defenses and found a way to his heart? How had Obi-Wan succeeded in winning the Jedi master's love? How had he failed the Eratti? It was a conundrum. Even the ache and joy in his heart was a conundrum. He could not understand the feelings, so new, so forbidden and so very frightening. And yet there was nowhere to turn, no one he could speak to in order to seek advice.

Suddenly the commpanel beeped, making Obi-Wan start. It was the prince.

"Obi-Wan," Rakta said, leaning back in his chair and running his hand over the front of his dark green jacket. "Did you miss me?"

The Jedi hesitated. They could not afford a setback and so he took a breath and smiled. "Yes."

"Ah, I thought you would," Rakta said, smiling smugly. "I made quite an impression *in* you."

Obi-Wan ignored the comment. "Is it time for me to meet you?"

"You are anxious to see me again... how delightful!"

"You're showing me the Archives today?"

Rakta's eyes narrowed on his young friend. "Hmm, I did promise that didn't I?" The prince seemed to consider this for a moment and then laughed. "Yes, of course I did! Meet me in the woods on the south side of the Archives in two-quarters. And don't be late!"

A thousand feet into the woods, on the southern exposure of the Great Archives, Obi-Wan found the prince. He was dressed in subdued dark colors to conceal him from watching eyes.

"Come with me," the prince said, in a surprisingly sedate tone. He led Obi-Wan a little further into the woods to a small circle of stones. "Here," he said, and then knelt down and began to scrape away leaves and dirt.

Obi-Wan watched for a moment and then realized Rakta was uncovering a door that was built into the ground. "This is the secret entrance?"

"Yes," Rakta said, pleased when Obi-Wan knelt to help him remove the rest of the debris. "Because you are Jedi I feel I can show you this... no one knows of the location of this entrance except me and Rence."

"And Rence is dead," Obi-Wan said, though it was obvious.

"Exactly," Rakta answered.

Obi-Wan wondered what Rakta might be implying by that. Did Rakta believe that Rence had been murdered? If so, wouldn't that implicate himself? Unless Rakta was suggesting that someone else killed the Supreme Archivist? Obi-Wan was about to ask Rakta to clarify his statement when they finally got the heavy door open together.

Igniting a glow rod, Rakta led the way as they descended down stone steps, the durasteel door closing heavily above them. A narrow passage took them toward the Archives. Obi-Wan could feel the slight slope of the ground. They were going deeper beneath the surface.

"How did you know about this entrance?" Obi-Wan asked, feeling the need to whisper even though there was surely no one around.

"All the codes and secrets of the Archives were automatically sent to me on Rence's death. Not even Queen Ranna could stop that," Rakta said, sounding all too pleased.

Within minutes, the prince had led them further down the corridor and to another dark durasteel door. Rakta input a long code into an access panel and the door slid open. They were now in one of the sublevels of the Archives.

"The entire building is environmentally controlled," Rakta explained as he turned on the lights, making them both squint as their eyes adjusted to the brightness. "Even the most sensitive materials can be stored underground... our conservators work down here repairing ancient texts and manuscripts."

The professional tone in Rakta's voice eased Obi-Wan's mind. After seeing the prince's indulgences first hand, Obi-Wan had started to think that perhaps the title of Supreme Archivist meant nothing to the prince. Now he could see Rakta's concern for the collection. He watched as the young man scanned the materials left lying on the laboratory tables.

"When the war began, everyone left to be with their families. It looks as though they might be coming right back," he said, holding his hand over an ancient text needleworked into a long cloth.

"It's only been three weeks. It's not too late to put things right," Obi-Wan said, sympathetically.

"Queen Ranna will never allow it," Rakta said, spitefully. "She wants Reva to complete Rence's term."

"The princess?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised. He remembered the young woman from the previous night. She had seemed more interested in making accusations than reopening the Archives. "But the Queen said you were too young... isn't Reva even younger than you?"

"Yes, she's only nineteen, but they don't care... so long as Tracep II can continue to control the Archives."

This was a bitter feud and Obi-Wan thought it best not to pursue the subject with the prince. His silence prompted Rakta to continue the tour. Their next stop was the main access room on the first floor.

As the lift door opened, Obi-Wan took a breath. "It's beautiful," he said.

Even with the lighting banks off, the long hall with its high ceiling was inspiring. They stepped into the hall, the click of their boots the only sound.

"This is where visitors are greeted," Rakta said, gesturing to a large reception desk, now oddly quiet and dark.

A light dust had settled on all the flat surfaces. The Archives was dead from inactivity. Without researchers and students and even just the curious, the Archives was nothing, its purpose, its gift to the galaxy only an aching memory.

Rakta let Obi-Wan wander, following from a comfortable distance. He watched the Jedi carefully, as a father would guard its newborn against a stranger. Obi-Wan did not pose a threat, but Rakta's training had instilled this protectiveness in him. It was only right.

The rarest items in the collection were not kept on this floor, but still Obi-Wan was overcome by a reverence for what he beheld. Row upon row of texts and data files lined the perimeter of the room. Even just skimming the subject titles made the young Jedi's head spin. Data had been collected over hundreds of years from around the galaxy on biology, literature, mega fauna, ancient rites, music, technology, government, industry... the list went on and on.

"One could spend a lifetime here," Obi-Wan said, as his gaze settled on a section of collected works in poetry.

"Many do," Rakta said, solemnly, taking one of the ancient texts of poetry off the shelf. "It is not uncommon for researchers to spend fifty, seventy, even one hundred years here."

The prince opened the volume. Its pristine pages were white and luminous even in the dimness of the room. "I see you are interested in poetry."

"It's required study at the Temple."

"But it takes a certain... openness of the heart to understand poetry, to truly appreciate it. Do you appreciate it, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan swallowed. For all the beauty and depth of his training as a Jedi Eratti he had never learned to appreciate poetry. Did it really take an openness of the heart? Was that why he had never appreciated it until Qui-Gon had awakened that strange, live feeling in him? The questions made him tremble, feel incomplete.

"Hmm," Rakta said, growing impatient with Obi-Wan's silence. "I wondered about you Jedi... if you love. In fact, until you came to my room I wasn't sure you even had sex."

Obi-Wan blushed. Thankfully in the near darkness, Rakta could not see his cheeks coloring. "I'm sure there is much you don't know about the Jedi."

Rakta laughed softly. "Yes, I'm sure."

He tucked the book under his arm and took Obi-Wan's hand, leading him to a grouping of tables at the end of the row. He released the Jedi's hand and opened the book, placing it on the table. Then, in a move befitting a warrior, he swept Obi-Wan into his arms. The prince's forthrightness surprised Obi-Wan, who instinctively drew back only to have Rakta's arms wrapped about him tighter.

"All this talk of love and sex has given me an idea," he said, and latched his mouth onto Obi-Wan's in a possessive kiss.

Obi-Wan had suspected that the tour would lead to sex, but he hadn't expected it just now. He tried to respond the way he knew Rakta wanted, but he felt trapped in the prince's arms.

Rakta pulled out of the kiss, seeming not to notice the lack of enthusiasm in his partner. "I want you... here," he said, and then began to grapple at Obi-Wan's layers of clothing to gain access.

The Jedi closed his eyes briefly, trying to center himself in the necessary task at hand. He reached under his robe, and unfastened his belt and then placed it on the table before them.

"Wonderful," the prince said, delighted at how easily the Jedi complied with his desires.

Obi-Wan began the light meditation that helped him become aroused as the prince stripped him of his robe and loosened his tunics. When at last the prince grabbed for Obi-Wan's cock, he realized the Jedi was not getting hard.

"Nervous?" Rakta asked, as he slipped his hand inside Obi-Wan's pants and began to stroke the limp cock. "Your reverence for the Archives is touching, but don't worry, no one will know what we're doing."

The prince's words were hardly reassuring, but his attentions helped. Obi-Wan was finally getting hard, although it was taking a lot of concentration on his part and lot of stroking on the prince's. He didn't want this encounter, and it was against the Eratti Code to have sex against one's will, but Obi-Wan felt he had no choice. He had to continue pleasing Rakta; it was the only thing that had made a difference in the negotiations.

He reached down and found Rakta hard and ready. The prince moaned at the touch and thrust into Obi-Wan's hand. "Feel me," Rakta said, pulling Obi-Wan close and kissing him.

The two young men fondled each other only briefly. "I must have you... now!" Rakta said, whirling Obi-Wan around and bending him over the table. "I want to fuck you."

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply as he felt his leggings slip to his knees and Rakta quickly positioning himself behind him. The prince inserted an exploratory finger up Obi-Wan's ass.

"Mmm, you're ready for me," he commented and then withdrew the finger and shoved his hard length inside, burying himself to his balls. The prince groaned in satisfaction and began to thrust immediately.

The young Jedi shook from the invasion and grasped the edges of the table. He didn't want this. It felt wrong to give himself in this way. In the two years since he had begun to perform the duties of a true Eratti, Obi-Wan had never felt like this. He had never felt dirty or tainted by sex.

His thoughts turned to Qui-Gon and to the man's gentleness. He tried to imagine that the thrusts shoving him forward against the table were his, but even this comfort was not enough. He could hear Rakta's grunts and feel the difference in the young man's size. He was not Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan's cock began to wilt again.

Frustrated and trembling, Obi-Wan closed his eyes hard, as tight as he could. No amount of meditation or imagining could save him from the rush of emotion that threatened him. He knew now for certain that his path as an Eratti was in danger. He could not perform the required sexual acts and be in love with Qui-Gon at the same time.

His eyes stung as he tried to hold back a sob... and then Rakta came... calling out in a loud moan. Obi-Wan opened his eyes with the last of the prince's thrusts and looked down at the open book beneath him. He stared at its beautiful pages and then realized it was opened to a love poem. A tear fell down his cheek as he stared at the words of a lover's heart.

Oh night thou was my guide
Oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
To the beloved one

He swallowed the urge to be sick, and then the prince pulled out of him and sagged against his back.

"I must see you again," Rakta said, panting in his ear.

Obi-Wan felt a wild desperation to get away from this place. But his task here was not complete. He could not push the prince away just yet.

"I cannot promise you that," Obi-Wan said, truthfully, and as Rakta regained the strength in his legs and stood on his own, the young Jedi was able to retrieve his robe from the floor, wipe himself and rearrange his clothing. "I believe my master needs me for a meeting this evening."

Rakta snorted. "Then come after," he said, tucking himself back inside his pants as well. He didn't wait for Obi-Wan's reply... for there could be only one acceptable response.

I cannot spend another night with him, Obi-Wan thought, as a shiver raced through him. He straightened his tunics, secured his belt, and put on his robe. "If it would please you, I would like to pay my respects to the memory of the Supreme Archivists."

Rakta raised an eyebrow. "You would?" he asked, surprised by the unexpected courtesy.

"Yes, their dedication to the exchange of knowledge in the galaxy is to be honored."

"I thank you, Obi-Wan, for saying that," Rakta said, and gestured for the Jedi to proceed him back down the row.

"First, I wonder if it would be possible for me to get a copy of this poem?" he asked, pointing to the open text.

"A copy? Were you reading that while...?" Rakta asked, and then smiled devilishly. "Why I think you're a romantic, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Yes, I'd be pleased to scan it for you."

They took the book to an access station where, after inputting another code, Rakta was allowed to scan the two-page poem. He handed the datachip to Obi-Wan. "My gift to you."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said, bowing his head slightly.

"Now, please follow me," Rakta said, backtracking to re-shelve the book and walking through the hall and into an adjacent sanctuary.

They stepped into a cold stone room with a low ceiling. It was almost oppressive compared to the openness of the main hall and the grandeur of its high ceiling. Carved into the walls were elaborate knotwork designs and quotes from each of the Supreme Archivists. All twenty- two of their names were additionally carved into the stone floor.

"These are my predecessors... the Supreme Archivists of the Great Archives," Rakta said as he put a clenched hand over his heart. "Not all of them are buried here, since many worked in the halls of the first archives just beyond the compound in the forest. Their remains have long since returned to dust."

Obi-Wan bowed deeply to the list of names before him.

"Their lives were dedicated to the tenet that 'knowledge is to be shared,' and they rest here under a low ceiling to show their humility."

"And Rence is here?" Obi-Wan asked, noting that her name was not included.

"She is, but with the war there has been no time to give her the respect she deserves."

"What do you think happened to her?" Obi-Wan asked, watching Rakta carefully.

"I have spent many hours wondering, but I have no answer other than her death was quite sudden."

"And no one thought to perform an autopsy?" Obi-Wan asked.

The prince cringed. "No one suspected anything wrong happened."

"But you said yourself she died quite suddenly."

"Have you never heard of such a thing, Obi-Wan? People die every day," the prince said, sounding annoyed.

"But wars don't usually break out because of it," Obi-Wan said, in growing frustration. "Don't you have an obligation to investigate her death?"

Rakta looked at him hard. "Why? I am her rightful successor. The succession is clear... if only Queen Ranna would wake up to that fact."

Obi-Wan decided to not respond to that. Obviously the prince was discomforted by this discussion. Perhaps he did have something to hide? Perhaps he knew more than he was saying?

They continued the tour through one more level and then parted ways.

It was late afternoon when Obi-Wan returned to his room in the compound. He was only there a few minutes when his master tapped on the door.

"Master," Obi-Wan said, as he opened the door.

"Dear Padawan," Silva said, as she breezed into the room. Then she turned sharply to look at him. "You smell of sex."

The words sounded oddly accusatory, and Obi-Wan took a half step back. "Yes, Master, I was with Rakta..."

"Ah, yes, the prince," Silva said, grinning easily now. For a moment that odd fear she had about her padawan and Master Jinn came back to her, but hearing that Obi-Wan had obliged the prince once again, she relaxed. Now she needed to know what fruits that pleasure would bear. "Tell me about the Archives."

"It was beautiful, Master," Obi-Wan said, and then he explained everything he had seen from the conservator's laboratory, main access hall and the location of the burials.

"Beneath stone, you say? That could make an exhumation difficult."

"Rakta seemed nervous when I mentioned Rence's death. I think he suspects something."

"Suspects what, Padawan?"

"I'm not sure... but he is convinced that he is the rightful successor, no matter what befell Rence."

Silva considered this a moment. "Perhaps this evening will enlighten us."

"This evening?"

"Yes, Master Jinn was successful in securing an invitation to dine with Queen Ranna."

Obi-Wan's heart thumped. Qui-Gon...

"The three of us will leave in two hours. You'll have time to shower and nap. Oh, and you'll need to change... your clothes smell of sex, too," she said, smiling brightly. In her heart she knew Obi-Wan had the makings of the greatest Eratti ever. She was rightly proud of him.

"And one more thing, Padawan," she said, before leaving. "I was very moved today by the stories of the researchers who have been locked out of the Archives." She put her hands on her apprentice's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Obi-Wan, this is a tragedy we have only begun to understand. We cannot fail in opening the Archives... and soon."

With that final statement, Silva Laren returned to her assigned rooms to meditate and rest for the coming evening. As the door clicked softly behind her, Obi-Wan was left to ponder his master's words. Why did he feel the weight of re-opening the Archives was entirely on his shoulders? There were three Jedi assigned to this mission and yet Obi- Wan seemed to be the only one making any sort of progress.

"Progress, right," he said with a snort, and began to undress.

The only progress he had made was getting a peek at the Archives. What had Rakta actually shown him other than open stacks and the conservator's workspace? What of the rest of the building? What of the rare collections in secured storage? What about security monitoring systems... if they even existed. Perhaps the Jedi would have to force their way into the Archives after all.

After showering and changing into workout pants, Obi-Wan sat down at the commpanel with the datachip Rakta had given him. He accessed the chip and read the love poem in its entirety. He was moved by its simplicity and the author's skill in conveying the love he felt for his beloved. Obi-Wan wondered if Rakta had been right about needing an open heart to understand poetry. Certainly the young Jedi would have never been drawn to this poem before today.

Within my pounding heart
Which kept itself entirely for him
He fell into his sleep
Beneath the cedars all my love I gave

The poem brought back images of Obi-Wan's lovemaking with Qui-Gon that morning... how they had lain beneath the trees, wrapped in each other's embrace. He had never experienced feelings as profound as the ones he had that morning. He had never enjoyed so tender a lover's hand, so thoughtful a lover's words, and so bright a lover's eyes. He was mystified by the transformation that was taking place within him, mystified by the feeling of being rearranged and remade. But the transformation was not one with which Obi-Wan could indulge. He had taken the vows of the Eratti, vows not easily broken, vows he still considered sacred. And yet there could be no doubt of his love for Qui-Gon.

There would be heartache and tears if he chose to continue down this path with Qui-Gon, and heartache and tears if he did not. Master Laren had often told him his one fault was in seeking kindness and a connection with the individuals he bedded. Eratti only sought to give pleasure in order to create harmony and maintain peace in the galaxy. To seek anything more was foolish and self-destructive.

Obi-Wan needed to be realistic. This digression might well continue during the mission, but beyond that it could not. After the mission was completed, he and Qui-Gon would go their separate ways.

Continued in part 3