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Something was wrong.

Still half-asleep and disoriented, Qui-Gon sat up, looking about the darkened room to remind himself of where he was.  Tentatively, he reached out with the Force, attempting to discover the source of the disturbance he had sensed.

Obi-Wan!

Throwing off the covers and rolling ungracefully off the bed to his feet, Qui-Gon rushed to Obi-Wan's side.  Gently rolling the knight from his side to his back, Qui-Gon gasped.  Obi-Wan was as pale as the bed linens themselves.  He was cold to the touch, sweat dotting his forehead.  Even as Qui-Gon watched, it gathered and ran in rivulets down his temples.  Feeling for a pulse, Qui-Gon found it slow and thready.  Obi-Wan was in trouble.

Running to the balcony, Qui-Gon pushed away the curtains and threw open the doors.  There were constantly people in the courtyard below, keeping vigil over the visitors, even into the wee hours of the night.  Leaning over the railing, Qui-Gon could see two people kneeling on the ground,  heads bent in prayer or sleep.

"You!" Qui-Gon shouted, his voice frightening a bush full of night-nesting birds into sudden flight.  "Please, I need help!"

The two women were immediately on their feet, straightening their skirts and pulling their shawls closer to themselves in the cool night air.

"Yes, Sir Jedi?  Of what service may we be?" one of the women asked.

"My companion has taken ill.  I am afraid his life may be in danger."

The women gasped, making gestures with their hands that spoke of silently offered prayers.

"I have need of your high priest," Qui-Gon told them urgently.

As well as being Arbola Prime's leader, the high priest was also a powerful healer.  If Qui-Gon needed assistance with Obi-Wan, Keshen was the one who could help.

"You must tell him to come to my suite immediately," he said.  "Please hurry!"

Eyes full of sympathy, the women bowed to him.  "Yes, Sir Jedi!  We will bring him at once!"  In the semi-dark, Qui-Gon could hear the stones crunch beneath their feet, could see the dust their sandals stirred up as they ran.

Assured that help was on its way, he hurried back through the open doors to Obi-Wan's bedside.  No longer quiet, Obi-Wan was moaning.

"Obi-Wan?"  Qui-Gon knelt beside the bed, cupping the knight's damp cheek in the palm of his hand.  "Obi-Wan?  Can you hear me?"

Carefully, Qui-Gon probed their bond.  Obi-Wan's thoughts were chaotic, unorganized.  Qui-Gon could sense no awareness within them, no signs that he understood what Qui-Gon was saying...or even that he heard him.

/Obi-Wan?  Love?/

The blond head, hair dark and wet with perspiration, thrashed from side to side.  Obi-Wan moaned louder, hands grasping at his stomach as his entire body began to writhe in pain.

Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan's shoulders so that he would not fall from the bed.  He felt helpless.  Aside from keeping Obi-Wan from injuring himself, he didn't know what else to do.  Where was Keshen?

Qui-Gon tried to calm himself. Panicking would not help Obi-Wan.  Concentrating, he gathered the Force about him like a shield, shutting out everything but Obi-Wan and their lifebond.  Feeling carefully along the edges of it, Qui-Gon damped what he could of the pain, soothing the knight and slowing the now frantic heartbeat.  Under the effects of the Force, the wild movements eased somewhat.

Qui-Gon sensed, rather than heard, movement in the corridor.  With a thought, he opened the door before the high priest could signal his presence.  In a flourish, the priest entered, purple robe swirling about his bare feet.  Behind him came four priestesses in red robes, swinging incense burners and sprinkling holy water.  They took up positions at each corner of Obi-Wan's bed and began to chant.

"How long has he been this way?" Keshen asked as he knelt at Qui-Gon's side.

"I became aware of his condition no more than half an hour ago," Qui-Gon told him, eyes still closed.  He held on to the Force with all his might, for himself and for Obi-Wan-and for any help it might be to the high priest.  "He could have been this way for several hours, but he showed no sign of illness when he went to sleep tonight."

"Have you sensed any change in the child?" Keshen asked, laying his hands upon Obi-Wan's chest.

"The..." Qui-Gon was brought up short.  He'd been so worried about Obi-Wan he hadn't even considered what the baby's role might be in all this.

"Does your young man have a bond with the child?  Would he sense if there were something amiss?"

Qui-Gon's heart clenched.

"I don't believe so," he said sadly.  "It is a lengthy story, but Obi-Wan was not aware of the child during its conception and early growth, and so could not bond with it as is the Jedi way during childbearing."  He paused, thinking.  "I..."

The high priest looked at him.  "Do *you* have a bond with the child?"

Qui-Gon met his eyes.  It was something he had not wanted to ponder too often or examine too closely.  At times, it did seem as though he could sense the child when Obi-Wan could not, could feel things from the baby when Obi-Wan felt nothing.  It did not seem fair that he might be able to connect with the child when the one who carried it was not able to do so, but for some time now he *had* been aware of a growing...connection between himself and the baby.  He told the priest as much.

"I feel that both lives are in jeopardy," the priest said, wiping the sweat from Obi-Wan's face with a cloth.  "If you will try to examine the child, I will examine your lifemate. Perhaps together we can get to the root of the problem."

*...both lives are in jeopardy...*  The words hit Qui-Gon like a spray of cold water.  He knew he could not bear to lose Obi-Wan...but to lose Obi-Wan and the child...

Setting his fears aside, Qui-Gon lightly touched his fingers to Obi-Wan's belly, trying to see the little one even as he reached out to it with his mind.

*The infant was there, curled in the traditional fetal position.  But this was different, unlike the other times Qui-Gon had sensed the child.  Before there had always been movement, a spark of thought, a glimmer of intelligence.  Now...*

Removing his hands, Qui-Gon fought the sickness that washed over him.  Something was terribly wrong.  Sparing a glance at the master healer, Qui-Gon found him bent over Obi-Wan, one hand on his forehead and the other on his chest.  Finding no answers there, Qui-Gon braced himself to continue his exploration.

Running his hands carefully over Obi-Wan's belly, Qui-Gon tried to communicate with the child.

*The baby's heart beat slowly...too slowly.  Its hands and feet lay still and unmoving, rather than stretching and kicking as they had before.  Pain.  Qui-Gon could feel that the infant was in great pain.*

It was difficult, but Qui-Gon forced himself to surface again.  This time he put a hand on the high priest's arm, waiting for him to finish his own examination and look at him.

"The trouble does not lie within your mate," Keshen told Qui-Gon, confirming Qui-Gon's fears.

"No," Qui-Gon said softly.  "The baby..." he drew in a shaky breath against his growing panic.  "I think...the baby's condition is causing Obi-Wan mental and physical pain.   He may not be bonded to it as deeply as he could be, but there is definitely an attachment."

"And that attachment is being...threatened..." the healer speculated.

"Yes...I believe..." a shudder overtook Qui-Gon and he couldn't continue.  "I must try again to communicate with the child."  As he positioned his fingers for a third time, he could hear the priestesses chanting.  The rhythm of their voices was soothing.

"I will do what I can to make your young man comfortable," Keshen said kindly.  Beginning a counter-chant, he blended his voice with the others, closing his eyes and laying his hands upon Obi-Wan once again.

/Young one.../ Qui-Gon called.  *Pain.  Pain.*  Qui-Gon winced at the amount of hurt which could emanate from such a small lifeform.  /I am sorry you suffer so,/ Qui-Gon thought to the baby.  Still probing the child's emotions, he delved deeper into discovering the cause of the baby's sudden illness.

Obi-Wan had wanted no examinations done of the child, had wanted no one near him, probing him, reminding him of the life he carried within him.  Qui-Gon had monitored the situation as well as he could, considering the circumstances, but had never gone this far.

Down...down...down...Qui-Gon sent a tendril of the Force along ahead, mapping out each cell, blood vessel, and synapse of the unborn child until he was down to the genes that made up the baby's very structure.  Its body invaded, even by the smallest of mental touches, the baby flinched.

Obi-Wan whimpered.

/Do not fear, small one,/ Qui-Gon said.  /I mean you no harm./

The imperfection, when Qui-Gon discovered it, was so slight that at first he did not believe it to be the cause of the problem.  Did not want to believe it.  But it was there.  One wrong, incompatible gene, one small, almost insignificant mismatch...and it was going to mean the termination of this life.  The extinguishing of this tiny flame which would not even get a chance to glow.

*As Qui-Gon began to withdraw his presence, he felt something brush his mind.  The untrained, undeveloped thoughts which penetrated his own, came from the infant.  The bleak terror emanating from the thought patterns crushed Qui-Gon's heart, almost prevented him from drawing his next breath.  He gasped, helpless in the infant's grasp.*

/Shhhh.../ he soothed.  /Shhhh, little one.  I'm here.  I'm here./  Briefly he wondered if Obi-Wan was feeling any of this, but secretly hoped he wasn't.  He would have more than enough to deal with later, no need for him to suffer any more.

Unable to pull away in the face of such helplessness, Qui-Gon settled in to keep vigil.   One by one, the baby's systems shut down.  Sensory perception, lungs, heart all grew weak.  The child's suffering grew worse, but Qui-Gon knew that after a while the nerves ceased to function and the child was spared the pain.  Qui-Gon, however, was not.

/Oh, my Kelan-Tai,/ Qui-Gon whispered, his grief nearly suffocating him.  /My unexpected gift.../ His hands stroked Obi-Wan's swollen belly as his mind stroked the unborn child's.

*The baby's heart, barely perceptible in its movement now, clenched and stopped.  Then began again.  Another minute passed before it happened a second time.  Qui-Gon opened himself up to the will of the Force, pleading for its guidance.  As he searched his mind and his soul for answers, he felt the child slip further away from him.*

Obi-Wan moaned.

*And then Qui-Gon knew.  Pouring his essence into his touch and into his thoughts, he reached out to the infant one last time.*

/Let go.../ he murmured.  /Let go and rest./  They were the hardest words he had ever spoken.  /All is well,/ he soothed.  /You have fought hard and you have earned a rest./

Qui-Gon paused, unable to breathe.

/I will look after him,/ Qui-Gon assured the child.  /I will love him as I know he would have loved you.  You will always be a part of us and we will cherish our memories of you forever.  Be at ease now.  Allow your suffering to end and be at ease.  Sleep, my Kelan-Tai.  Be at peace./

And slowly, gently, easily, the infant slipped into the hands of the Force.

Silently, Qui-Gon withdrew his mind from the child's.  Quivering, unable to stop himself from shaking, he collapsed into the arms of the healer...just as Obi-Wan began to scream.

When Qui-Gon came around, he was laying on a makeshift pallet placed beside Obi-Wan's bed.  The priestesses were gone and it was quiet inside, but the balcony doors were open and Qui-Gon could hear singing in the courtyard.

"Ah, you are awake.  Good."  The high priest was kneeling beside Qui-Gon before the Jedi could pull himself upright.   "How are you feeling?"

Qui-Gon's eyes were immediately on Obi-Wan, his mind not even registering the healer's words.  Pulling himself into a sitting position, he leaned over, touching Obi-Wan's hand, his face, his hair, anything to reassure himself that Obi-Wan still lived and breathed.  As his eyes traveled down the knight's body, he suddenly recalled his last few minutes of consciousness.

In a wheeze of expelled breath, Qui-Gon found himself gasping for air, vision swimming, room tilting.  He recalled urging the child to quiet and sleep.  He had led the infant into the hands of the Force.  He had led the unborn child into death.

"No," Keshen said firmly, sensing the direction of Qui-Gon's thoughts.  Strong hands were placed around Qui-Gon's shoulders, easing him away from the vision of his lifemate, pale and weak, belly still swollen with a child which would never be.  Qui-Gon resisted with a growl even as he swayed precariously from lack of air.

"Sir Jedi."  The healer called loudly to Qui-Gon, attempting to break through the Jedi's strong shields.  "You must breathe.  Breathe.  This was not your fault.  This was no one's fault.  You discovered the cause of the infant's distress and you relieved it.  No one can blame you for that.  Do not blame yourself."

"I relieved...?" Qui-Gon gasped.  "No.  I killed..."

Qui-Gon took several deep, gasping breaths, dragging himself to his feet.  Staggering he fell to his knees.

Unable to continue controlling himself or the feelings which haunted him, Qui-Gon cried out.  In a fit of unrestrained anger, a surge of the Force pulsed through the room, tearing the curtains from their fastenings, dropping them to the floor with a muted thump.  The windows and doors to the balcony shattered, spraying glass in every direction.  Across the room, a vase broke, sending a cascade of flowers and water over the side of the table.

"I have sent for your ship, Sir Jedi," the healer was saying calmly, ignoring the chaos around him.  "Your work here has been deemed complete; you must return to your Temple.  There you will have counselors and healers who can help you and your mate in this time of need."

Keshen waved his hand in the direction of the chanting voices.  "My people began a prayer-song when they were told of your loss.  It is to show that they grieve with you," he explained.  "We believe song is a very powerful healer of both the mind and the soul.  Arbolan voices are almost daily lifted in song for one reason or another.  Very much like your own meditation, I think."

Qui-Gon remained silent, slumped on the floor, listening to the singing.  He tried to imagine it flowing through him, cleansing him, strengthening him.

"Yes, Sir Jedi, you do see its intent," the high priest said with a nod and a smile.  "But we also understand that the joy and power of our songs will not right all the wrongs in this life.  Sometimes more is needed and that is why you must return to your own world.  Our thoughts and prayers will be with you and the story of your visit here will live on in our songs."

Keshen plucked a blanket from the cot Qui-Gon had occupied, went to Qui-Gon and wrapped it around his shaking shoulders.

"Any death is a tragedy," he said quietly.  "The death of a young one, or one not yet born, even more so.  But you must believe me when I tell you that some of the hurt you're feeling will lessen.  If you are there for your mate and he is there for you, then together you will become stronger for what you have both been through."

Without another word, the healer helped Qui-Gon to stand, and walked him back to the palette.  There he sat beside him, listening to the voices in the courtyard, offering silent support until the Jedi's ship signaled it was ready to return its passengers to Coruscant.

Qui-Gon chose the smallest cabin on the ship for their return flight.  They had no real need for a larger, more luxurious one, and Qui-Gon did not feel inclined to overindulge.  The bedroom, with its small bed and sleep couch, fit their current needs adequately.

Settling Obi-Wan in, tucking the bedclothes gently around him, Qui-Gon's movements betrayed a caring for more than just his lifemate.  Seized involuntarily by another fit of shuddering, Qui-Gon fought the feelings back with the thought of how Obi-Wan had suffered-and how he was going to suffer even more when he became aware of what had happened to the child.

Depressed and exhausted, Qui-Gon stumbled to the sleep couch, not even bothering to procure a blanket.  Laying for more than an hour, listening to the sound of Obi-Wan breathing, he finally drifted to sleep.

"No!  Master, help me!  Master!"

Panic-stricken, Qui-Gon was off the couch and with Obi-Wan in a matter of seconds.  Head tossing from side to side, it appeared that the young man was dreaming.

"Obi-Wan, I am here," he said, grasping the knight's hand and covering it with his own.  "Obi-Wan can you hear me?  Can you wake up?"

"Master, it hurts!  It hurts!"  Obi-Wan clutched at his stomach, crying out with the terror of unexpected pain.

Qui-Gon's mind reeled.  Could Obi-Wan be feeling true pain or was it merely the phantom pain of the child's passing that he felt?  When Obi-Wan groaned, brow furrowed, face creased with his suffering, Qui-Gon realized it did not matter which it was.  What was important was that he must help Obi-Wan to get through it.

"Obi-Wan, I'm here," Qui-Gon soothed.  "It's all right to wake up.  I'm here, Obi-Wan, beside you." He placed a hand on Obi-Wan's chest.  "Can you feel me touching you?  I'm right here."

Obi-Wan gasped in pain, either imagined or real, sweat beading on his forehead and running down his temples in salty rivulets.  As Qui-Gon drew his hand back, preparing to lightly slap the knight in hopes of breaking through to him, Obi-Wan's eyes suddenly opened.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, leaning over the younger man.  "Thank the gods..."

Obi-Wan turned his head, as if searching for the source of the voice but unable to locate it.

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's face between his large hands, focusing all of his strength on pulling Obi-Wan from the murky waters of the delusion which threatened to drown him.

"Look at me, Obi-Wan," he directed.  Green eyes blinked owlishly.  "Yes, Obi-Wan, it's me.  Look at me."  The eyes moved in the direction of Qui-Gon's voice and the sandy head slowly followed.  "Yes, Obi-Wan.  I am here with you and you are safe.  We are on a ship headed back to Coruscant.  It is all right to wake up now."

Obi-Wan blinked again, and this time Qui-Gon imagined that he saw comprehension on the pale face.

"M...mast...?" Obi-Wan's voice was rusty and hoarse from the combined effects of sleeping and screaming.  "Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon ran a hand through Obi-Wan's damp hair.  "Yes, my love, I am here."

"Qui-Gon..." Obi-Wan's back arched as pain seemed to surge through him.  Hands still clutched to his belly, he writhed in discomfort.

"Relax, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said quietly.  "If you like, I can get you something for the pain."

"No!" Obi-Wan exclaimed more vehemently than Qui-Gon had expected him to.  "I think..." he panted as the pain gripped him.  "I think..." he gasped.  "I think it's time..."

If his heart had not beat of its own accord, Qui-Gon surely would have forgotten to draw breath.  Numbly, he wondered how in Force he was going to deal with this on top of everything else.

On the bed, Obi-Wan's form seized, hips raising and lowering in automatic response to the pain.  It was almost erotic, Qui-Gon thought; Obi-Wan was beautiful even now.  All imaginings died as Obi-Wan let out a scream.

"The...healer...?" Obi-Wan forced out between breaths.  "...Keshen...?"

"We're not on Arbola Prime anymore, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon reminded him, trying to bring his feelings and emotions under control so that he could help Obi-Wan cope.   "Keshen is not here.  We are on a ship heading back to Coruscant."

Another pain rocked Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon looked on helplessly as Obi-Wan closed his eyes and moaned.

"What's...happening...?"  Obi-Wan's eyes were full of confusion.

This had to be an illusion, false messages being sent to Obi-Wan's body.  Obi-Wan could not be feeling contractions, labor pains.  The child was one with the Force, was not to be born.

Qui-Gon held his head against the ache that was forming there.  He needed to talk to someone.  He needed to talk to Mace.

Qui-Gon laid a hand on Obi-Wan's cheek.  "Why don't you try to get some rest, love?" he asked, putting on a calm face and hoping it would hold until the young knight was unconscious.  With a contradictory shake of his head and a nod, Obi-Wan slipped under, silently urged on by his mate's Force suggestion.

"The Council is in session, Master Jinn.  I cannot ask Master Windu to step away from it for a personal communication."

Qui-Gon sighed in exasperation.  He was well aware of Council protocol, but he *needed* to talk to Mace.  Now.

Focussing on the tow-headed youth on the screen before him, Qui-Gon gathered into himself every bit of Force energy he could.  Formulating a suggestion as powerful as was possible, considering the source of the transmission, Qui-Gon waved his hand and spoke.

"For me, Master Windu will gladly leave the meeting," he said, capturing the young man's eyes and not allowing him to look away.  "You will summon him and tell him it is an emergency."

Hands poised over the communications console, the senior padawan blinked, looked puzzled. But not convinced.  "Master Jinn, I cannot ask..."

Qui-Gon stared harder, elevating the mental suggestion using several more layers of the Force.  Some Jedi claimed to have success with mind-tricking at a distance, but he had never personally attempted it-or believed in it.

"You will be happy to summon Master Windu from the meeting," Qui-Gon intoned.  "He will gladly leave the meeting when he hears it is an emergency."  The Jedi master's concentration was so complete he probably couldn't have sensed a disturbance in the Force if it had been in the next cabin.

"I..." Jaw tightening, the padawan shook his head as if to clear it.  Suddenly he seemed to find the panel in front of him fascinating, staring at it intently, to avoid meeting Qui-Gon's determined gaze.

"Padawan..."

When the young man looked at Qui-Gon again, his face was lax and his eyes held a clouded, far away look.

"I will be happy to summon Master Windu from the meeting," he said groggily.  "He will come if he knows it's an emergency."  In a daze, the padawan pressed several buttons and flipped a switch, apparently sending a message to Council Chambers.  "One moment please," he added as an after thought.

"Thank you, Padawan..."

"Milan," the boy supplied automatically.  "San Milan, senior padawan to Master Josie Voss."

"Well, Padawan Milan, I will have to pass along my gratitude to Master Voss for having trained such an obedient and efficient padawan," Qui-Gon said with a smile, still sprinkling his words with a bit of suggestion.

"Thank you, Sir," the padawan said.  He looked down at the console.  "Ah, Master Windu is now available to receive your transmission.  Please stand by and I will patch him through."

Qui-Gon nodded, sighing in relief.

"Qui-Gon?  What is going on?" Mace demanded as soon as they were looking at each other face to face.

"Mace..." Suddenly what Qui-Gon had wanted to say stuck in his throat.

"Qui-Gon, tell me what's going on," Mace said.  "Padawan Milan said it was an emergency.  A Council session has been put on hold because of your call." Mace peered over Qui-Gon's shoulder, taking in the details of where he was placing the transmission from.  "You're back on the ship, so you've completed your mission and are heading home?" he hazarded a guess.

"Mace," Qui-Gon said abruptly.  "Obi-Wan has lost the child."  Something very like a sob caught in his throat as he spoke the truth aloud for the first time.

"Oh, Qui-Gon..." Mace's face was filled with sorrow and he reached out with one hand, as if he could touch Qui-Gon, give ease to his pain.  "I am so sorry."

"And now..." Qui-Gon swallowed against the fear building in his stomach.  "Mace...he thinks he has gone into labor."

Qui-Gon did not miss the look of surprise that passed over the other master's face.

"Force...Does he know...?"

"That the child inside him no longer lives?" Qui-Gon finished bitterly.  "No."

"Surely he must realize that it is much too early for the child to be born..."

Qui-Gon gave a frustrated sigh.  "The baby's death was terribly hard on Obi-Wan's body," he said sadly, remembering the delirious knight as he had been just hours before on Arbola Prime.  "He is still feverish and barely aware of his surroundings.  There is much he does not realize.  And yet..."

"And yet he must be told what has happened," Mace said with understanding.

"But this shouldn't be happening, Mace!" Qui-Gon said in desperation.  "The child is...*dead*."  He couldn't continue.

"It is the body's natural response, Qui-Gon," Mace told him.  "When Depa and her mate lost their first child, it was thus.  Full-term, Depa endured the labor and the birth, which happened as naturally as any normal birth, yet the child the healers delivered was not alive."

"Depa's body had almost a year to prepare for the labor," Qui-Gon said.  "She lost the child only near the very end.  Obi-Wan has had only half that time."  Qui-Gon's voice was strained.  "This should not be happening."

"Qui-Gon," Mace said softly.  "I know this is going to be difficult for you, but if the Force has chosen this path for Obi-Wan, then we must not interfere.  Perhaps this is the Force's way of allowing Obi-Wan to experience closure in what has been a mentally and physically traumatic experience.  A way for him to finally make peace with himself and the child."

"By tormenting him?" Qui-Gon demanded.  "By forcing him to face something he is not mentally prepared for and perhaps not physically strong enough to endure?"  Qui-Gon breathed heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"If there was only some way to stop the contractions, to postpone the birth until we reached Coruscant..." Qui-Gon's eyes were pleading.  "The healers could perform the necessary surgery to remove the fetus..."

"No, Qui-Gon," Mace said firmly.  "The healers would be the first to tell you that if Obi-Wan's body has begun the process, then the time is right.  Labor should be allowed to continue, the child allowed to be born naturally."

"But it's *not* natural!" Qui-Gon exploded.  "Obi-Wan should not be made to go through this!"

Mace's look softened.  "And you should not be made to go through this, my friend."  His voice filled with quiet sorrow.  "This will not be easy on either of you," he told Qui-Gon.  "But you must be there for him, Qui-Gon.  And when you return to the Temple, we will all be here for you.

"You *will* make it through this, Qui-Gon, and you and Obi-Wan will be stronger for it in the end.  May the Force go with you."

When the transmission ended, Qui-Gon was left staring at the screen, knowing Mace was right, on all accounts, but more uncertain than ever that he would survive the 'birth' with his sanity intact.

"Qui-Gon, something's wrong.  Oh gods, something is wrong."

It was the realization Qui-Gon had been expecting and dreading.  He watched Obi-Wan turn his thoughts inward, seeking out that which he sensed was not right.  As much as Qui-Gon longed to make things easier for him, longed to *tell* him what had happened, this was something Obi-Wan needed to find out for himself.  Hearing it would not be enough of a reality.

When the color drained from Obi-Wan's cheeks and his eyes began to roll back, Qui-Gon gripped his shoulders, holding him tightly against his chest.

"The baby...something's wrong with the baby, Qui-Gon.  I can't *feel* it..."

"Have the pains gone away, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked cautiously.

"No, they..." Obi-Wan arched off the bed in answer to Qui-Gon's question.  The pain left him panting.  "It's...not that..." he gasped.  "It's...ohhhhh..." Obi-Wan lost consciousness.

Stroking Obi-Wan's cheek, waiting for him to come around, Qui-Gon began to loathe himself.  He hated to see Obi-Wan suffering so...hated having to be trapped here, witness to what was going to be a terrible, painful discovery...and hated himself for wanting to be anywhere but at his lover's side at this most difficult of times.

Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered, his lips parted.  Qui-Gon sprinkled a few drops of cool water into the open mouth, watching as the liquid was accepted and swallowed, the parched mouth opening for more.  He obliged.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened and what Qui-Gon saw in them broke his heart.

"The baby is...dead, Qui-Gon..." Obi-Wan said with quiet certainty.  "I didn't think I could feel it in my mind before, but now..." He shut his eyes against the realization; tears leaked from the corners and trickled toward his temples.

"Oh, gods, Qui-Gon...it's dead.  I killed it."

Qui-Gon's heart leapt into his throat.

"No, Obi-Wan.  Never."

Obi-Wan shook his head in denial.  "I tried for so long to pretend that nothing was wrong, that this child didn't exist.  I told myself that over and over."  Obi-Wan choked back a sob.   "I was so busy denying it to myself that I never gave one thought to what the child needed or felt. I never even tried to bond with the baby."

A tremor ran through his body, silencing him as he fought to retain consciousness against the pain.  Arms and legs flung outward, Obi-Wan writhed on the bed.  Hands on his belly, he gasped for air as he spoke.

"I killed it, Qui-Gon.  My negative thoughts and resistance were murder weapons just as surely as if I'd used a knife or a blaster."

"The child's death is not your fault, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.  "The baby simply was not strong enough to survive."

"You...you knew...?" Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath and swallowed a scream as his body continued to prepare itself for the birth.  "How long...?"

"Not until this evening," Qui-Gon told him.  Again he found himself stroking Obi-Wan's cheek.  It was somehow comforting.  "I was with the child when it passed into the Force," he told Obi-Wan.

"How...?" was all Obi-Wan could manage.

"He went peacefully, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon lied. "He was asleep when the Force took him."

He would tell Obi-Wan what had happened, but no one could make him tell the entire truth-not Mace and not anyone else on the Council.  They had not been there, had not seen and felt what he had.  It was enough that he had experienced the child's painful departure from the living realm; he would *not* expose Obi-Wan to the same pain.

Gently, he ran his hand over Obi-Wan's sweat-slick hair.  "There was a minute irregularity in one of the chromosomes, probably due to the incompatibility of your genes and those of the...other Tiburonian.  Even carried to term, I do not think he would have survived for long. There were just too many differences for his small body to compensate for."

"It's not right!" Obi-Wan said vehemently, through gritted teeth.  "It's not fair!  Why now, after it's gone, am I suddenly aware of it?"

Qui-Gon sat on the bed, took Obi-Wan into his arms as the young man sobbed.

"I don't know, Obi-Wan.  Only the Force has those answers," he said softly.  "But with his birth you will have the chance to see him and to say goodbye."

Obi-Wan took a shaky breath and let it out, trying to speak.  His voice failed him and he bit back a cry as another contraction tore through him.

"Don't try to speak, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said.  "Just rest and relax and allow yourself to grieve.  It *is* all right to do so.  I will be here when you wish to talk."  Slowly, he traced comforting circles over Obi-Wan's back.

Obi-Wan was quiet, pensive for a time.

"I was beginning to love this child," he said finally, haltingly. "Little by little, all of the hate and anger I held in my heart, for both the men on Tiburon and the child was fading, and in their place stood love."  Obi-Wan shuddered and his voice wavered as he spoke again.  "I don't know when it began, but I realize now I've felt it for some time."

Qui-Gon held the knight close.

"Love and acceptance are in your very nature, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said softly.  "Not hate and anger.  And though this was forced upon you, I think a part of you has been dwelling on that."  Qui-Gon's voice dropped to barely a whisper as he stroked Obi-Wan's hair.  "He is your son, Obi-Wan, whom you've carried and protected for the last six months.  It is only natural for you to have developed an attachment...even if you did not intend to do so."

A shiver went through Obi-Wan.  "No one will believe it," he said forlornly.  "When the other masters look upon me, all they will see is the crazed fool I was when I returned from the planet.  No matter what I say or do now, they will never truly trust me again."

The sadness in the knight's tone gripped Qui-Gon's heart.  "The Council knows what you went through on the planet, Obi-Wan," he said.  "They've seen the medical logs and they've started an investigation into the government on Tiburon.  They will think no less of you for having endured what you have.  If anything, they will look upon you and see the stronger man that you have become because of this."

"Truly?" Obi-Wan asked, desperately needing to hear that something of value stilled remained within him.

"Truly, my Obi-Wan.  I swear it."

"Will we get to Coruscant before the baby is born?" Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon sighed.  "I do not believe so," he said.  "Considering the timing of the contractions, I would say we don't have much more than a few hours left.  And we won't arrive at the Temple for another day or so."  He looked at Obi-Wan.  "Does that knowledge bother you?" he asked.

"No," Obi-Wan said, with a confidence about him that Qui-Gon had not seen in a very long time.  "I want it to be just the two of us.  No healers, no prying Council eyes.  I trust you with my life."

Qui-Gon blinked back the tears that suddenly blurred his vision.

"At the Temple, he would be seen as no more than a medical imperfection, another scientific oddity for them to study," Obi-Wan said, bitterness creeping into his words.  "I know you will take care of me and that you will treat the baby with the dignity he deserves, even in death."  As he finished, another pain took him and he panted through it, clutching Qui-Gon's hand.

"It will be as you wish, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him, squeezing the hand thrust so trustingly into his own.  "Just relax and allow the labor to progress.  I will be here."  He kissed Obi-Wan's forehead.  "Relax.  'We will face this together and together we will rise out of the ashes of despair into the light of a brand new day.'"

The ancient Jedi quote seemed to calm Obi-Wan and he lay back, looking into Qui-Gon's eyes, still and serene until the next contraction.

"Qui-Gon, please, I can't...I *can't*...!"

At Obi-Wan's bedside, Qui-Gon was beginning to grow desperate.  For twelve hours Obi-Wan had suffered, sweated, drifted from the conscious to the unconscious and back...and still the child refused to be born.  And for twelve hours Qui-Gon had fought the urge to contact Mace again, to tell him off and then to tell him that regardless of what he thought, he was putting Obi-Wan to sleep and stopping the birthing process.

Running a wet cloth over Obi-Wan's face, Qui-Gon murmured softly, trying to calm him.  Obi-Wan had slipped in and out of delirium for the past several hours, his body plagued with fever.  Qui-Gon had been grateful for the only-brief periods of lucidity, as they spared Obi-Wan some of the physical and mental pain, but now the fever seemed to be lessening and Obi-Wan's confusion was slowly replaced with clarity.

Obi-Wan's back arched, his hips lifting with his body's need to expel the child within.

"Breathe, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said as calmly as he could.  "Take a deep breath and let it out in slow bursts."

"I...can't..." the knight panted.  "I'm too tired...and I hurt."

The blunt admission sent Qui-Gon's stomach spiraling to the floor.

"I regret that I cannot give you more ease, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said regretfully, laying his hand tenderly upon Obi-Wan's swollen belly.  "Medicating or placing you too deeply into Force trance will only slow the labor."

Obi-Wan laughed humorlessly.  "How much slower could they possibly make it?" he asked.  "I've been lying here half the night and most of the morning and *nothing* is happening." As another wave crashed against his insides, he held his stomach, trying to still the internal rhythms, grunting as he tried to mute the pain without Qui-Gon's help.

"I am using as much of the Force as I am able, but you must be allowed to feel most of what your body is telling you," Qui-Gon told him, torn by the knight's suffering and his unwillingness to put Obi-Wan's life at further risk.

"My body is telling me it's had enough and it wants to stop," Obi-Wan said bitterly.

Qui-Gon hid a small smile.  "I know it is hard, Obi-Wan, but the pain must be your guide in this.  Masking the signals you are receiving may do irreparable damage to you at this crucial stage of the birthing process."  As he spoke, Qui-Gon massaged Obi-Wan's shoulders and arms in an attempt to relieve some of the tension.

Obi-Wan turned his face away, as if refusing to listen, but when he turned back, there was nothing but gratitude and love in his pain-filled eyes.  "Thank you...for being here...with me..." he gasped, breathing hard and rocking up as the pressure inside him robbed him of control.

Qui-Gon's heart melted as he held Obi-Wan and eased him through the contraction.  "There is nowhere else I would choose to be, my love," he said.

As the pain faded, Obi-Wan looked up into Qui-Gon's face, meeting his gaze with pleading eyes until the other man just had to lean over, lips pressing against his lover's mouth.  It was what Obi-Wan wanted and he groaned, this time in relief.

"Yes..." he murmured, strengthening the kiss, sending his tongue deep inside Qui-Gon's mouth.  "Just like that.  Make me forget what's happening.  Make me see and feel only you and your love."

Doubt haunted the man in Qui-Gon's arms.  His time on Tiburon made him feel unclean, his future seemed terribly uncertain.  Touching Obi-Wan everywhere he could reach, Qui-Gon concentrated on driving the doubts away.  Pouring his heart and soul into his movements, he sent waves of acceptance flowing over the knight.

"More...please..." Desperation tinged the young man's plea.  It was more than needing to forget...it was needing to know that he was still loved.

Covering Obi-Wan's sweat-dampened face and neck in soft kisses, Qui-Gon worked to erase all of the negative touches Obi-Wan's body had endured, replacing them with gentle, cleansing motions and thoughts.  Whispering and worshipping, inch by inch, he worked his way down Obi-Wan's full frame and back up again.

When Obi-Wan's hips thrust up the next time, he cried out, but this time not in pain.  "Yes!" he shouted as Qui-Gon's hands trailed along the insides of his thighs, moving upward.  "Oh, please, more...I love you, Qui-Gon..."

With Obi-Wan relaxed, centering on the pleasure instead of the pain, the birth advanced quickly.

"Yes, Obi-Wan, that's it," Qui-Gon encouraged as he sensed what was happening.  Carefully he settled the knight back against the pillows and moved to the foot of the bed.

"It's...time...?" Obi-Wan asked almost incredulously as he gasped for breath.

Qui-Gon laughed.  "Yes, Obi-Wan, I believe so.  Take in a breath and push if you are able."

Obi-Wan drew in a gulp of air, tensing all over again as the pain began to build.

"Relax, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon soothed.  "It will all be over soon.  Now, push..."

Listening intently to the older Jedi's voice, Obi-Wan obeyed.  Once, twice, he bore down at Qui-Gon's urging.

"That's right, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said as he saw the baby's head begin to emerge.  "You're almost there!"

"I...can't..."  Sweat poured into Obi-Wan's eyes, mingling with the tears of pain already there.  "It hurts...it hurts..." he panted.  "You...don't know...you...can't understand..."

"Obi-Wan, push!" Qui-Gon demanded.

Fighting his body's need to push the child out, Obi-Wan bit back a scream.  "Qui-Gon...I can't do...this!  I don't want...to do this!"

"Yes you can," Qui-Gon told him calmly.  "You can do this."  Unconsciously, he ran his hands up and down the insides of Obi-Wan's legs, in an effort to calm the frenzied knight.

The effect was immediate.  "Yes, Qui-Gon!  Touch me...please..."

Qui-Gon sighed inwardly.  This birth had been unusual from the very start.  Why normalize now?

Aware of the child's progress, Qui-Gon began to touch Obi-Wan.  It had been months since they had engaged in anything remotely intimate...and he could feel Obi-Wan's longing for it.  Slowly, he slid his hands higher up Obi-Wan's legs.  Caressing, soothing, touching...

"Qui-Gon, yes!  Please!" Obi-Wan choked out even as he gave in to the urge to push.

Watching his lover arch up in pleasure spurred Qui-Gon on.  Grasping the now-straining cock, Qui-Gon concentrated on bringing both Obi-Wan and the birth to completion.

"Oh, gods, Qui...yes!" Obi-Wan breathed as he orgasmed.

With the final push it needed, the infant slipped from its father's body, into Qui-Gon's waiting hands.

"Oh, Qui-Gon...that was...incredible..." Obi-Wan panted.  "I..." His body continued to contract, preparing for the afterbirth, but in the haze of euphoria, Obi-Wan was distracted from it.  "Qui-Gon...?"

As he laid eyes upon the baby, Qui-Gon came nearly undone.  In his hands lay a child that had once been alive and viable, a child he had connected to, communicated with in the most basic of ways.  Now, with its blue coloring and still features, his Kelan-Tai was nothing more than a shell, the shadow which remained while the child's soul and spirit lived on in the Force.

Barely more than two kilos, the baby was like holding a feather.  There was some residual heat there from Obi-Wan's body, but Qui-Gon wasn't fooled into thinking the infant's body was generating any heat of its own.  Gently, Qui-Gon swabbed the baby until he was dry and clean.  With a pinch of the Force, he cut its connection to Obi-Wan; deftly calling to his hand a blanket he'd set out, he Force-warmed it and wrapped the child in it, wanting to spare Obi-Wan the initial shock of feeling as well as seeing his son in death.

"Obi-Wan," he said quietly, getting to his feet, cradling the tiny form in the crook of his arm.

The flush of arousal gone, Obi-Wan sat atop the bed, pale and shaking.

Qui-Gon's melancholy turned to concern.  "Obi-Wan?"

Shifting the child, Qui-Gon sat on the bed, reaching out to touch Obi-Wan's cheek.  Slowly, Obi-Wan seemed to come around.

"It's...over...?"  A question, not a comment.

"Yes, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently.  "You did it."

"It's...over...?" he asked again.

*Shock,* Qui-Gon thought.  *His lover was in shock.*

"Yes, my Obi-Wan.  All of your hard work has been rewarded.  The baby has finally been born."

Obi-Wan's eyes were glassy.  "The baby...is...dead," he said, his features stony.

Qui-Gon's breath caught.  Oh, Force...

"Obi-Wan, look at me."

It was several long minutes before Obi-Wan managed to meet his gaze; when he did there was a sorrow in them so deep it made the older Jedi almost forget what he'd been about to say.

"You're right, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said softly, as if speaking to the youngest of initiates.  "The child no longer lives and breathes.  But his spirit will live on in the Force and the memory of him will live on in our hearts."  It was one of the hardest things Qui-Gon had ever said.  Carefully he asked, "Would you like to hold your son, Obi-Wan?"

There was a flash of something across Obi-Wan's expressionless face, a look of longing or need mixed with guilt.  "No."

"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan needed to hold the child.  He needed to hold him, to know that although he wouldn't be here tomorrow, he *had* been here, *had* been a real part of the young knight's life.

"I said no!" Obi-Wan insisted vehemently.  And before Qui-Gon could stop him, he had swung his legs off the bed and was standing, trembling, on the other side of the bed.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon exclaimed, leaping to his feet.  "You shouldn't be up!"

"I..." his face went ashen as his knees buckled and he swayed and fell.

The baby still held tightly in his grasp, Qui-Gon was instantly kneeling at Obi-Wan's side.

"Come, Obi-Wan, let me help you back into bed.  You must give yourself time to rest and recover."

Qui-Gon, leaning over Obi-Wan, intending to assist him, suddenly found himself the focus of the other man's attention.  Freezing in place, Qui-Gon allowed Obi-Wan to get his first look at his son.

For what seemed like hours, father, son, and lover huddled together on the floor, mute and meditative.  Finally Obi-Wan spoke.

"May I...hold him...?" he asked, voice shaky.

Tears stung Qui-Gon's eyes as he heard the acceptance; he placed the baby into Obi-Wan's arms, pulling his lover into his lap, hands wrapped securely around his chest.

As he held his son, a look came over Obi-Wan's face, as if he had been transported to another place or time.

~*~

Somewhere in the distance, a baby was crying.

Obi-Wan looked around, finding himself in the quarters he and Qui-Gon shared at the Temple.  The noise was coming from the bedroom he had occupied as a young padawan.  Curiously, he walked toward the squalling and opened the door.

Through the circular window at the far end of the room, Obi-Wan could see the stars of the Coruscant night shining brightly.  In the corner stood a baby crib.  Visible through the white slats were two clenched fists and two kicking, bootied feet.  Obi-Wan stepped closer.

Aware of his presence, the crying infant quieted, began to coo.  Almost magnetically, Obi-Wan was drawn to the edge of the crib.  Looking down, his gaze was captured by a pair of bright blue eyes. Head covered in blonde ringlets, the little girl was dressed in a light green sleeper, arms waving, flowered blanket kicked off and laying beside her.

"Oh, my," Obi-Wan breathed.  "Aren't you beautiful..."

The infant smiled, a dimple forming in one pale pink cheek as she did so.  Obi-Wan's heart melted as he reached into the baby bed to retrieve her.  Holding her in his arms, he gently rocked her until her mouth opened in a wide yawn and her eyes began to close.

Quietly, Obi-Wan paced the room, listening to the soft sounds the baby made as she drifted to sleep, watching her tiny chest rise and fall with each new breath.

A hand on his shoulder made Obi-Wan jump and he turned, careful not to disturb the sleeping bundle.

Qui-Gon stood there, a smile on his face.  When Obi-Wan would have spoken, the older man put a finger up to his lips to silence him, placing his arms around Obi-Wan's middle instead, holding him tightly.

Their daughter in his arms, Obi-Wan leaned back, tucking his head against his lover's shoulder, content, for once, to live in the moment.

~*~

Obi-Wan looked at his son, memorizing every detail and feature.  Then, turning in Qui-Gon's arms so that he could look into the other man's face, he smiled.

"It's going to be all right," he told the other man serenely.  "I know that now."

"We gather this day to bless and honor the life of Kelan Kenobi, son of Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Mace Windu's voice rang out through the quiet clearing, where no less than fifty Jedi were assembled to quietly meditate and mourn.

"Though his life was short, he will long be remembered in our thoughts and in our hearts."

As the baby was laid to rest, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon knelt beside the grave.  Side by side, they used their hands to fill in the shallow area with soil.  Finishing, they each placed an orange timber blossom upon the newly-covered ground.

One by one, the other masters and padawans filed past the grave, bowing to Obi-Wan in acknowledgement of his loss and dropping their own orange blossoms onto the grave.

When Qui-Gon became aware of eyes boring into his back, he turned.  Finding Yoda there, beckoning to him, he stepped away from the crowd and knelt down beside the ancient master.

The wizened face was sad for a moment, then the sorrow cleared and Yoda spoke quietly.

"Seen Obi-Wan's vision, I have," he said, searching Qui-Gon's face for his reaction.

Qui-Gon was surprised.  "Obi-Wan shared his insight with you?" he asked.  Unsure of what he'd truly seen, it had taken Obi-Wan some time to even put together the words to explain it to Qui-Gon.

"No," Yoda said, with a shake of his green head.  "*Seen* the vision, I have."

Qui-Gon's eyes widened.  "So it is true?"  He had believed Obi-Wan had seen something, but he had not known whether it was a true vision or merely wishful thinking on the part of Obi-Wan's mind.

"Live in the moment, we must," Yoda said, ever mindful of his role as teacher.  "Uncertain our futures are.  But..." he added, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  "Only child in your lives, Kelan Kenobi will not be."

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, processing Yoda's words and centering himself.  Looking over to Obi-Wan, he found him surrounded by several Council members, talking.

As his arms swung at his sides, the lattice-work of the Tiburon tattoos was visible.  Obi-Wan was not so sensitive about them as he had been and when the healers had told him they could not be removed, he had been almost serene in his acceptance.  His lover had changed since his ordeal, and Qui-Gon found himself extremely proud of Obi-Wan's recovery so far.

Yoda cleared his throat. "Then perhaps name her after me, you will," he teased, chortling as he regained Qui-Gon's immediate attention and was favored by a startled look.  "When 900 years old you are, want a namesake you will, hmmm?" he said as he turned and hobbled away, stick methodically tapping the soft earth and dead leaves as he went.

Shaking his head, half in amusement and half in awe, Qui-Gon walked back to stand at his lover's side.

With their bond fully reopened, he could feel Obi-Wan's profound sadness, but it was underscored with the hope his vision had provided.  Unable to keep from touching his lifemate, Qui-Gon placed his arms securely around Obi-Wan, holding him close, offering comfort, remembering Kelan, anticipating their future together.
 

~ el fin ~
(padawan_ana@yahoo.com)