Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas, vampire legends to
the world.
Whatever his deceptions, Fra-Zon hadn't lied about her voice.
Her melodious tones rose into the air, caressing Obi-Wan's ears
with sweet beauty. She sang no words, merely let harmonic
sounds ripple up and down scales, singing to her plants for her
own joy.
Standing at the gate, he watched her as she tended her garden.
Despite two grown sons, Sei-Lona Jinn was still a beautiful
woman, only a few wrinkles disturbing the delicate features on
a porcelain white face, the rich dark hair of the Valona
reaching half-way down her back. Her figure was upright and
slender in a blue gown which matched the blue of her eyes, of
her sons' eyes. Concentrating on the lush leaves of a cella
rose, she carefully clipped dying blooms, allowing new growth
to flourish.
Obi-Wan opened the gate, walking hesitantly up the path. Behind
him, his Master remained on the sidewalk, letting the gate
clang shut, isolating him outside. "Madame Jinn," Obi-Wan said
quietly.
Smiling, she studied the handsome man, an inquisitive frown
crossing her face as if recognizing a face she couldn't quite
identify. "Do I know you, kind sir?"
"We haven't been introduced." Unsure what to say, how to raise
the reason for his presence, Obi-Wan retreated into polite
platitudes. "Your garden is exquisite."
"Thank you." Her pride wasn't the pride of arrogance, but the
quiet satisfaction of a loving dedication. A stranger on her
property didn't scare her; this young man was too obviously
civilized. "All except this poor bush," she added, walking to a
squat bush covered with the white splotches of mildew. "I can't
stop the mildew."
Kneeling next to the bush, Obi-Wan reached out gently,
sensitized to the plant's distress by his recent experiences
connecting to the life of moonberries. The Force seemed to leap
from his fingers to the leaves. Shutting his eyes, he
surrendered to the healing power which poured from his soul. He
had always been attuned to energy of plants, but like so many
facets of his life, that attachment had changed, strengthened
since the events which occurred after Qui-Gon's partial
transformation to a demon. He heard a shocked gasp and knew the
splotches were shrinking, the leaves once again a healthy
yellow-green.
He looked up at Sei-Lona, noted the realization dawning in her
eyes. "Obi-Wan," she said quietly. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"Yes, Madame. But how - "
"My son?" Shaking hands reached down to his kneeling figure. At
his glance toward the gate, she turned and ran, flinging the
gate wide as Qui-Gon's arms opened, enfolding her, her sobs of
reunion coating his cloak. They held each other as Obi-Wan
could see the answering tears trickling down Qui-Gon's face. He
remained in the garden, respecting their time together.
Recovering, Sei-Lona leaned back in her son's arms, hands
moving to trace his features. She smiled with delight at his
tall figure, the top of her head only reaching his shoulders.
As Qui-Gon smiled back in relief, she saw his fangs.
Her scream was as loud and piercing as her singing was
beautiful.
Obi-Wan's arms tried to catch her as she ran back down the
path, the gate slamming shut, leaving Qui-Gon outside. "Madame,
Madame, everything is fine, trust us, he isn't a demon, your
son isn't a demon." The words tumbled out in a reassuring rush,
the Padawan following her frantic dash into the house.
The elder Jedi had dared to enter the garden, sitting on the
ground by the cella rose when Obi-Wan finally left the house.
He waited until his Master sensed his presence through the
meditative trance and opened his eyes. "She's calm now. She
wants to talk to you."
"Does she hate me?" The despair in his eyes echoed in his
voice.
"Of course not, Master. She loves you but she knows of the
demons and was afraid. I have explained to her that the
transformation was never completed. She regrets her fear."
Qui-Gon rose and followed Obi-Wan into the deserted living
room. The younger Jedi gestured to one wall. "You can see why
she recognized me."
The wall was filled with holos in frames of etched gold and
silver. Some were expected; a man, obviously his father, in the
officer's uniform of a private cruise ship, Sei-Lona singing,
his parent's wedding picture, the couple standing in front of
the first offices of Jinn Enterprises. Fra-Zon's baby picture,
graduation pictures from different educational levels, a candid
shot with teenage friends, his proud stance at the dedication
of the new Jinn Enterprises building.
Others were unexpected. A young Qui-Gon in a class of Jedi
students, standing with Yoda at the ceremony announcing their
Padawan/Master relationship, after a successful diplomatic
mission with a group of delegates. Lastly, pictures with each
of his apprentices, Arre'esia, Xanatos, Obi-Wan.
"She's followed my life," he murmured, a painful feeling he
hadn't known existed releasing itself within his chest. The
Jedi were not encouraged to even know or be attached to their
birth parents; allegiance to duty and the Jedi life must take
priority over family considerations. He had never realized that
he was loved and missed all those years. The holos were
obviously captured from various news vids. Though not keen on
the concept of publicity, the Jedi understood that the people
they defended needed to trust and understand their protectors.
Journalists were invited to attend many ceremonial functions to
demystify the sacred guardians.
His Mother entered from the kitchen, placing a tray on a low
table. "May I try again?" she requested, remorseful at her
earlier hysteria.
"Please." The hug was long and sincere, though the tears did
not flow this time.
The two separated and sat, Qui-Gon on the green velvet couch,
Sei-Lona on the matching chair. Obi-Wan was in the middle, a
buffer between the two as they struggled to adjust to their
discovery of each other. She leaned forward, one hand on the
teapot's handle, looking briefly at her son.
"Yes, I can still drink and eat, though my main nutritional
needs have changed," he responded, throat tight.
Taking his words as assent, she busied herself with pouring
cups. "You sustain yourself on blood?" Her direct question
indicated her knowledge of the Valona demons.
Clearing his voice, the Jedi answered honestly. "The Jedi
developed a synthetic blood protein, but yes, I can drink
blood. Please, Mother, tell me. What am I?"
She shook her head sadly. "I cannot tell you what you are. I
can only tell you what you must fear becoming." Handing him a
cup, she considered where to begin.
"For thousands of years, demons have been part of Valona life.
The change would usually happen to young men. Teeth would
become fangs, nails would be claws, reason would be lost. They
would become an unreasonable beast, driven to live on fear and
blood. They would kill indiscriminately to quench their thirst.
In barbaric times, some demons lived for years, hiding and
terrorizing the population."
She sipped her tea, the heat of the cup warming her palms.
Neither Jedi disturbed her tale. "As our science advanced, we
realized that the combination of a recessive gene and an
intense tragedy, generally the death of a loved one, triggered
a biochemical change. The Valona are a proud, forceful people.
Your brother - you have a younger brother, Fra-Zon - shares
those traits."
"Yes, Mother," Qui-Gon responded neutrally. "I know. The Jedi
researched my family after the partial transformation occurred.
Those traits have made him quite a success in business."
Sei-Lona glowed at the perceived compliment to her younger son
but resumed, "Our pride kept us isolated from the galaxy for
many years. The thought that one gene could turn us into
monsters - it was too shameful to admit. Our science has never
advanced enough to identify the gene and we are too proud to
ask those with superior genetic research. But the demons
population began dying out. The demons gene - it is strong in
certain families, but only through the female line. Those women
who were at risk stopped having children."
"A recessive gene and a tragedy cannot be the full truth,
Mother. I started transforming but I have suffered no great
loss for many years."
She shook her head in disbelief. "A friend, a lover did not die
recently?"
"No, Mother. I began to change when I was on Valona. Obi-Wan
was kidnapped and I was urged to kill him. We were told by his
kidnapper that I would become a demon if I killed Obi-Wan. Only
my Padawan's trust and love stopped me from that dreadful
action." He caressed Obi-Wan's cheek with the back of his
fingers. Obi-Wan's love-filled look revealed the depth of their
relationship.
"It doesn't make sense. It doesn't happen that way. I have
tracked your life as best I could. I thought you had not
suffered any tragedy at the right age, that you were already
safe."
"Please, Madame, tell us the rest of your story." Obi-Wan tried
to divert Sei-Lona's obvious distress.
Checking her confusion, she proceeded. "All my life, I knew I
was a potential risk. The demons gene has been strong in my
family. I was raised with many stories of male descendants who
killed and were killed. But - I wanted children. You can
understand, can't you?" She pleaded with her son for
forgiveness of her selfishness.
"I understand." His words were truth. He did comprehend even
though he had never fathered a child. He had been a Master to
three Padawans, experiencing the joy of raising two young
individuals to adulthood, seeing them mature and develop into
responsible human beings. With the middle 'child' - Xanatos -
he had learned instead the nightmare of a twisted personality
enshrouded in a charming disguise. Despite that agony, he was
grateful for the close friendship he shared with Arre'esia and
Obi-Wan's love and loyalty.
"No man would marry me. The number of demons in my ancestry was
too well known. Travel from the planet was limited but a
spaceship, a passenger liner, landed in an emergency. My father
- your grandfather - worked for the government. I helped him
locate temporary quarters for the passengers while the ship was
repaired. I met the officers. I fell in love with your father."
She smiled with sentimental remembrance. "He looked so handsome
in his uniform. Oh, it wasn't a real uniform, not a military
uniform, but he was so tall and kind and didn't know my
history. He wasn't afraid to love me. You look so much like
him, both you and Fra-Zon."
She crossed the room, lifting a holo off the wall, lost in a
memory of love and the first true happiness of her life. "I
told him the truth. I hated to, but I couldn't lie to him. He
just laughed. He said hadn't I ever considered my genes would
be diluted. We could protect and love our children and they
would never suffer tragedy. Your father wasn't like Fra-Zon, he
wasn't driven, but he believed he could handle anything and I
believed in him." One finger carefully traced the outline of
her husband.
"Your father didn't want to explain the demons to his fellow
officers. He thought it would make them nervous of me. My voice
was my freedom. I sang for the Captain and we told him we were
in love. The Captain was a very romantic man. He gave me a job
and helped smuggle me off-planet. He married us in space."
Qui-Gon listened to his parents' story reduced to a few simple
sentences, knowing that the dangers and risks were greater than
presented. Restricted planets were notorious for suppressing
their own citizens' rights when preventing external contact.
Hopefully, there would be time later for him to hear all the
details.
Sei-Lona kept talking, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
"I told your Father everything. He didn't give me the same
courtesy."
"Mother?" Curiosity tinged Qui-Gon's question.
"He didn't tell me his family was strong in the Force." She
shuddered. "I didn't understand the blood tests. The hospital
said they were routine. I remember the day they came to take
you away. You were so small. Your Father said I had to let you
go, that it was best for you. I screamed, I raged. The Jedi
looked to your Father for approval and he gave it. I hated him
that night."
Too intent on the unfolding tale, the Jedi failed to notice the
figure leaning against the doorframe until he spoke. "And
despite all your brave sacrifices, abandoning your own home,
you still have a demon for a son, Mother. Not quite what you
and Dad planned on, was it? A savage beast with Jedi powers?"
Fierce rage enveloped Qui-Gon, anger at his brother's lies,
fury at his derision of their Mother's suffering. Qui-Gon
lunged off the couch, springing toward Fra-Zon with his bare
hands. Obi-Wan leaped after his Master, knowing he must try to
stop Qui-Gon from killing his own brother. Whether or not the
death of a family member would trigger a total transformation
was unknown; certainly Qui-Gon would not want to live with his
regret if he deprived his Mother of a beloved son.
Sei-Lona screamed for the second time that day, a high
shrieking note of pain, as Fra-Zon's blaster hit Qui-Gon in the
chest. Standing behind Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan could not block the
shot with his lightsaber. He could only catch his Master's
large frame as it collapsed into his arms.
The pain radiated from his chest throughout his body as he
woke. A strong arm slipped under his shoulders, lifting his
torso. A straw touched his lips and he drank greedily to
relieve a dry throat and the empty sensation within his body.
Not water, but blood, the unique ambrosia of Obi-Wan, flowing
through his veins, energizing him. He looked at his apprentice,
shocked at the paleness of his skin and the shadows under his
eyes, signaling severe exhaustion.
"I knew you would need me when you awoke. I wasn't sure if you
would be strong enough to feed." The younger Jedi almost
babbled as he explained why blood had been drained from his
body and emptied into a bottle. "They would only take a pint.
You'll have to drink blood protein when you are done with this.
This is all they'd let you have. I tried to give more."
Qui-Gon's lips released the straw, leaving precious fluid
unfinished, horrified at Obi-Wan's colorless skin, concerned
for his Padawan. "It doesn't appear as if you should have lost
any blood, Obi-Wan."
Lips touched his forehead. "Drink, Master. Drink the
nourishment of my blood. Then sleep." Too weak to argue, the
Master followed the Padawan's command.
He awoke next to the touch of his Mother's frail hands resting
on one forearm rather than his lover's strong arms. "Qui-Gon."
She was overjoyed to see him awake, though his gaze was filled
with concern.
"Obi-Wan?" he asked.
"I convinced him to sleep, now that they are sure you will
live. He wouldn't leave your side. Even for rest." A wave of
her hands and Qui-Gon rolled his head to follow the direction.
Obi-Wan's slumbering figure laid in a bed next to his, arms
outstretched toward his Master as if still needing a connection
while dreaming.
"How did I survive?"
"Partially your own demonic strength. Mostly that Obi-Wan
poured healing energy into your body until the medical help
could arrive. He is devoted to you."
"I would be lost without him," he acknowledged, eyes lingering
on that adored face, noting that his color had improved.
His Mother shocked him by slapping one palm at his arm to make
his attention return to her. "He endangered his life for yours
by insisting you would need his blood when you awoke. He
wouldn't sleep. You should not let him make such sacrifices. He
is too young and vulnerable." Her scolding tone tried to hide
her care and concern for both men.
Qui-Gon wondered wryly what his Mother would say if he
confessed how else he had treated Obi-Wan; draining his blood
regularly, hiding that fact from the Jedi, Obi-Wan giving him
oral sex to avoid being killed, forcing a kiss on his
apprentice from perverse jealousy, raping him in an alley. He
decided there were things in a man's life that his Mother
didn't need to know.
"Fra-Zon?" he asked to avoid answering.
"Your brother is at my house. I told the civil authorities it
was an accident, a misunderstanding. He was only trying to
protect me." The Mother defended one son to the other, secretly
relieved that Qui-Gon was too weak to physically retaliate with
her decision. She loved both sons desperately, but the terror
of the demons and the sacrifices she had made to have a family
were present in her thoughts.
Fra-Zon's complicity in his circumstances was open for debate
in Qui-Gon's mind. "Blood?"
"You finished Obi-Wan's," she told him tartly. "But there's the
synthetic blood protein."
The taste didn't share the same pure flavor of his beloved, but
he drank thirstily, determined to heal himself and confront
Fra-Zon.
Obi-Wan awoke to the enveloping presence of Qui-Gon. He was
cradled into his Master's body, Qui-Gon's long arms wrapped
around his chest, his legs tangled with Obi-Wan's shorter ones.
His clothes had been removed while he slept and their naked
skin touched. Qui-Gon sensed his awareness, whispering into his
ear, "Obi-Wan? Are you alright?"
A moment passed as Obi-Wan oriented himself. "Yes, Master. I'm
tired but fine."
Qui-Gon shared his worry. "You saved my life, Obi-Wan. At
considerable risk to your own."
"You are my Master and I love you. How could I do any less?"
A throaty groan sounded in his ear as one fang latched upon the
lobe. "So calm. So understanding. So devoted. I was truly
blessed the day you became my Padawan."
"As was I, Master."
"Obi-Wan, I need to feel your life. I need to know you are
mine."
In silent acceptance, Obi-Wan arched his head back, angling his
throat toward Qui-Gon's lips.
"No, Obi-Wan. I won't drink. You are too weak." He guided
Obi-Wan to lay on his back, stretching on top of the prone
form. Hovering over Obi-Wan, he traced the plains and angles of
the strong features with the sharp points of lengthened
fingernails. Obi-Wan accepted the possessive exploration,
shutting the lids as the nails passed over his eyes.
"I'm not sure this would be any less exhausting," he murmured.
He sensed Qui-Gon's hesitation, the fingers pausing in their
sensual inquiry. "Ignore me, Master. Ignore me. You need this."
His tongue flicked out and tasted Qui-Gon's fingers as they
brushed over his mouth.
Qui-Gon's hair fell loose around Obi-Wan's face, enclosing them
in a sheltered world. Dimly, the younger Jedi heard the muted
hum of medical droids in the background, the rise and fall of
patients' voices. A small part of his mind was conscious enough
to hope Qui-Gon locked the door, but nothing could distract him
from the intensity in his Master's eyes.
Sliding slowly down Obi-Wan's body, Qui-Gon explored with the
tips of his nails and fangs, sending edged lines of pleasure
spiking through his senses. Resting his head on one arm,
Qui-Gon coasted his other hand lazily up and down Obi-Wan's
body, beginning in the middle of his abdomen, creating
ever-wider circles. His motions were idle, shying from reaching
his Padawan's nipples or cock, building Obi-Wan's anticipation.
Streaks of tingling pleasure radiated from the pointed nails.
"Master, please - "
With those words, the yearning need in his voice, Qui-Gon
feasted on Obi-Wan's mouth. Ravenously, he devoured his
nipples, sucking hard on each taut peak. Obi-Wan writhed as the
desire escalated in a frantic rush. Qui-Gon bit strongly at
Obi-Wan's navel before settling between the spread legs and
swallowing his erection. Grabbing at Qui-Gon's head to steady
himself, Obi-Wan thrust desperately into that hot mouth. The
elder Jedi's throat muscles milked his cock and Obi-Wan moaned
in pleasure, turning his head to bury his anguished cries of
excitement in the pillow.
A faint knock sounded on the door and Sei-Lona's delicate
inquiry, "Qui-Gon? Are you awake?"
Obi-Wan was beyond rational thought, lost in a state of
delirious urgency. He squirmed on the bed, whimpering. With
powerful hands, he squeezed Qui-Gon's head onto his erection.
Warm, humid suction engulfed him. Fangs ran delicately up and
down his shaft, never breaking the skin but adding an element
of danger. With a short scream, he released his climax into his
Master's voracious mouth. Qui-Gon drank every milky drop, the
taste of Obi-Wan as exciting as the bone-deep knowledge that
his apprentice relinquished all control to him.
"Qui-Gon? Did I hear a scream?" A stronger knock came as
Obi-Wan collapsed in limp satiety. Qui-Gon was standing
quickly, untwisting the sheets and blankets, tucking them
around Obi-Wan's exhausted body, concealing his nakedness.
Another fast kiss, Obi-Wan longingly licking his tongue at the
bitter taste of his own come, before Qui-Gon grabbed a hospital
gown, covering his own body, yanking the ties together at his
waist.
"Qui-Gon? There's something wrong with the door. Qui-Gon?
Obi-Wan?" Concern as the knocks grew more demanding. Qui-Gon
moved to the door panel, fingers darting rapidly, and Obi-Wan
realized the circuits were cross-wired to allow being locked
from inside.
Sei-Lona's relief was apparent as the door slid open, her son
framed in the opening. "Qui-Gon. I was worried."
"Don't make a fuss, Mother. I wired the door shut. The droids
were disturbing Obi-Wan with their incessant checks."
Bustling in, she placed a bundle of fabric on the visitor's
chair. "I brought you clean clothes from your hotel room. And
you shouldn't lock the door in the hospital. There might be an
emergency," she scolded.
"There was an emergency, Mother. That's why I'm here. With a
barely healed hole in my chest."
Sei-Lona ignored his dry response, circling his bed to sit at
Obi-Wan's side, one hand patting at his shoulder. Her observant
eyes noted his renewed pallor, the sweat drying on his skin,
his breathing gradually calming. Obi-Wan could tell when she
registered the true reason for the locked door. Her lips pursed
as her back stiffened.
"The hole will heal better if you rest. As will your Padawan."
She used the title as if affirming Qui-Gon's responsibilities.
"You will want to clean up. Your brother and I are expecting
the two of you for dinner tonight."
"Dinner with the Jinn family. How charming. Do you think that's
a wise idea, Mother?"
She kissed Obi-Wan tenderly on his forehead before walking to
Qui-Gon, stopping and raising her cheek so he might give her a
similar gesture of affection. "As wise as the care you take
with your Padawan."
Brushing his lips on her fragile skin, her son murmured,
"Don't, Mother. Don't ever come between Obi-Wan and I."
She opened her mouth to remonstrate, but stopped at the burning
command in his face. He may have himself under control,
allowing only bland sarcasm to creep through the tranquil Jedi
shield, but her son was perpetually on the verge of
surrendering to madness. Sei-Lona departed without further
comment.
Identified from an early age with a high midi-chlorian count,
Obi-Wan barely remembered his birth family. The Masters and
Knights who raised and taught him were his mothers and fathers;
his fellow students were his siblings. As an older Padawan, he
already experienced a sense of care and responsibility when he
helped teach the younger students. These children were the
future of his family.
The Jedi training allowed the young students opportunities to
interact with families, as the Jedi recognized that many
cultures revolved around the family structure, particularly the
more tribal societies. Usually the meetings were under the
guise of a social or cultural activity, but the young Jedi
students were aware of the secondary purpose, even if the
families themselves were oblivious. As Qui-Gon's Padawan,
Obi-Wan often stayed in personal homes on poorer planets or
mingled with diplomats' children on richer ones.
Even with this deliberate exposure, the concept of families
still made Obi-Wan uncomfortable. People bound together by
genetics, occasionally without common interests or
understanding of each other's lives. True, families could be
wonderful, supportive societal units, fulfilling vital needs,
and he cherished the warmth generated in those households. Too
often, the parents seemed to have married because of biological
attraction, occupied their days at different tasks, and only
listened to the other until interrupting to speak of their own
concerns. Siblings often fought with each other and argued with
their parents, insisting on rebelling against their culture or
parental wishes.
Obi-Wan had always known his purpose in life - to follow the
path established by generations to Jedi, to serve the Light. No
matter how strenuous his training, how difficult the tasks he
was assigned, how intensely he must study, he never wavered in
his determination to succeed as a Jedi. A family not built on
such united dedication always seemed disconcerting.
He studied the Jinns, quelling his nervousness. Sei-Lona cooked
dinner and insisted on gathering everyone at the table,
fulfilling the matriarchal function of insisting on family
unity to disguise disputes. Qui-Gon declined to eat, sipping at
a glass of moonberry wine they brought from the hotel. Fra-Zon
tucked into his food with great enthusiasm, as if emphasizing
Qui-Gon's lack. Since he felt weak, Obi-Wan forced himself to
eat the exquisite meal, though the tense undercurrents left a
acrid flavor in his mouth.
"An excellent vintage of moonberry wine. I'm surprised Jedi
carry such luxuries around," Fra-Zon's sudden comment broke the
silence as he sipped from his glass.
"Wine is not a standard travel ration. Obi-Wan was assigned to
assist the moonberry growers with their plight. He succeeded
where Agri-Corps failed. The wine was a gesture of
appreciation." He glanced proudly at his Padawan, who forced a
smile at the compliment.
"Not entirely, Master. Agri-Corps must use my data to find the
ultimate cure."
"I shall be certain to watch the moonberry market. It's been
declining over the last several years, as the flavor and
bouquet of the wine has suffered. I may be able to make a
killing by buying futures cheaply." Fra-Zon relished the
opportunity afforded by insider information.
Casually, Qui-Gon asked, "Is that why you went to Valona? To
make a killing in trade?"
Sei-Lona was shocked as Fra-Zon acknowledged Qui-Gon's
observation with a sardonic smile. "Fra-Zon! I told you never
to go to Valon!"
"Why shouldn't I, Mother? Restricted planets rarely enter the
Republic. I have Valona heritage. It was about time I earned
some benefit from it. I planned to establish the first trading
contracts."
She protested, "The demons..."
"Oh demons, shemons, Mother," was Fra-Zon's impatient response.
"Did you think I was going to pass up a fortune because of some
archaic fear?"
"You discovered that it wasn't an archaic fear, didn't you
brother?" Qui-Gon pounced. "Suppose I tell you what happened on
Valona?"
"Why don't you, Qui-Gon. Read my mind. Demonstrate your
superior Jedi skills."
"You went to Valon and met with boring trade ministers, using
all your business skills to convince them to grant you a
monopoly. Sometimes, sometimes, in the middle of conversation,
your world would narrow, focus down, and you would see a pulse
beating in a throat, hear the blood rushing through a body,
catch a glimpse of a wrist and the fine lines close to the
skin." Qui-Gon's voice deepened as his eyes strayed to
Obi-Wan's, locking with the blue-gray orbs. The world centered
on the two of them. Neither noticed Fra-Zon or Sei-Lona's
reaction. "The cravings overcame you, the urge for blood, the
drive for possession, the need to rip out a throat. You found
yourself just watching him, studying him, his every graceful
movement, his every nervous twitch when he felt your attention,
but you couldn't stop yourself."
"Actually, the sensations never narrowed to one person. I
didn't have a cute little blood toy available." Fra-Zon's words
were interrupted as Qui-Gon went over the table, his forearm
smashing into his brother's throat, slamming him against the
wall. Fra-Zon's feet dangled in the air and his breath was
choked. Qui-Gon's hand was raised as if the fingernails were
prepared to slash his face. Plates and the bottle of moonberry
wine went flying, the bottle breaking as it hit the ground,
crimson liquid flooding the floor.
Obi-Wan was there, standing at Qui-Gon's side, wrapping his
arms around his Master's shoulders. He broke the deadly tableau
by inserting his head between Fra-Zon and Qui-Gon, tongue
licking at Qui-Gon's lips. Timeless moments passed as Obi-Wan
licked and nibbled, encouraging Qui-Gon to relax, distracting
his Master's attention from his brother.
Qui-Gon's hold released, letting Fra-Zon fall to the ground.
His arms circled Obi-Wan, pulling him into a firm embrace,
squeezing the breath from his body as his mouth feasted on his
apprentice. The imminent rage channeled out of his system,
Qui-Gon freed his lips. "He insulted you."
"Any offense is mine to take, Master. You don't need to protect
me."
Hands tightened cruelly, pressing him even closer. "I will
always protect you. You are mine."
"I apologize to your Padawan," Fra-Zon inserted hastily. "My
choice of words was inappropriate."
Qui-Gon didn't even glance at his sibling. "Do you have any
more to tell me about Valon? If not, we're leaving."
Fra-Zon shook his head, though Qui-Gon didn't notice with his
gaze still fastened on Obi-Wan. Wearily, he said, "No, Qui-Gon,
you guessed correctly. The feelings overwhelmed me and I
panicked. I made an excuse about a business emergency and fled.
When the news vids reported you were on Valon, I thought about
warning you, but I decided I imagined the whole thing. What
happened to me doesn't fit the pattern Mother always described.
There's nothing more I can say."
Sei-Lona twisted her hands together, unnerved at the
revelations and her son's possessive display. "This doesn't
make sense. None of this makes sense. You are both too old for
this to happen."
"I know, Mother." Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan, hands lightly
touching the neckband, the padawan braid, the side of his
cheek, as if loathe to break contact too abruptly. "I thank you
for your assistance but now I need to be away from here. I will
contact you later."
Obi-Wan stepped outside, allowing privacy for Qui-Gon and his
mother to say their goodbyes. Fra-Zon followed him and
awkwardness overcame Obi-Wan as they stood in the dusk.
Fra-Zon's hand once again drifted down Obi-Wan's braid. "You do
realize," he said conversationally, "that I am responsible for
getting Mother pictures, now that Father is dead."
Obi-Wan nodded, backing away discreetly. Fra-Zon followed with
a deliberate tread, his height and physical presence imposing
on Obi-Wan's personal space. "I don't give her every picture,"
Fra-Zon confided. "I kept the one from this year's challenges."
The Jedi knew the picture he meant. One of those annual
ceremonies to demonstrate the strength and power of the Jedi,
the senior Padawans, Knights and Masters in mock competitions.
The battles were intended to reassure honest Republic citizens
of their protection and dishearten criminals and political
schemers. This year, Obi-Wan won every match he entered, as
well as prevailing when teamed with Qui-Gon in duels with other
Master and Padawans. With only his inner tunic covering his
chest, sweat beading his skin, the holo captured him attacking,
hands gripping his lightsaber raised to one side, his balance
on his toes tilting his body forward, the fierce concentration
on his face as he prepared to swing his weapon down and strike
his opponent. "I have it hanging in my bedroom."
So did Navar, Obi-Wan thought savagely. "First you abandon your
brother, then you would betray him?" was his cold question.
This man may have thrown him off kilter last time, but he
didn't intend to be manipulated again.
Fra-Zon's shame at his own weakness turned into defensive
justification. "I would have warned him if I realized the
danger." He calmed himself, suppressing the need to offer more
excuses for his lack of action and lies. "Midi-chlorians and
Jedi meditation may have saved him so far, but sooner or later,
he won't be able to control himself. Just - don't let him kill
you. You can always come to me." Fra-Zon's entreaty seemed
sincere.
"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon stepped outside the house, illuminated by
the light pouring through the doorway. "It's time to leave."
"I'm ready, Master. Very ready." Obi-Wan was relieved to end
this conversation.
"Brother - " Qui-Gon rested his hands on Fra-Zon's shoulders.
"You were right to leave Valon. Don't ever go back."
"Why, Qui-Gon," his brother's response mocked to hide his
unwillingness to accept forgiveness, "I didn't think you
cared."
"I serve the Light, Fra-Zon. We may never be friends, but I
wish no harm to anyone, particularly my brother. Please, look
after our Mother."
"I always have." Fra-Zon relented the subtle disdain to give
Qui-Gon a brief hug. "Take care of yourself, Qui-Gon."
With a last look at Sei-Lona, Qui-Gon left his blood family,
Obi-Wan walking by his side.
Mace Windu listened intently to Qui-Gon's report, expressing
his sympathy that so little had been learned before asking, "So
will you travel to Valon?"
"No," Qui-Gon responded. "I may have to, but these
confrontations - I must center myself, must ground myself in
the Force. We will return to Coruscant."
Mace imperceptibly hesitated before saying, "Very well, we
shall expect to see you soon. Let us know when you have
arranged passage."
"Is there some reason why we should not return to Coruscant?
Would you prefer I stayed away and sent Obi-Wan back alone?"
Qui-Gon sensed Mace's hesitancy and verbally leaped, despite
recognizing that he would never again separate from his
Padawan.
"No. The Jedi have not given up on you and Obi-Wan by himself,"
Mace grimaced, "may not be wise."
"Tell me, Mace." Qui-Gon didn't glance at Obi-Wan, though he
felt the questioning confusion in his apprentice's eyes.
Sighing, Mace explained, "You didn't register how much you were
broadcasting when you attacked Navar. Your feelings for
Obi-Wan, your vision of him."
"My lust." A flat statement, disdaining Mace's dancing around
the truth.
"Yes, your lust." Mace conceded. "The Masters and Knights were
able to handle their own responses by meditation. The very
young didn't understand and were relatively easy to counsel.
The problem has been the Padawans in their teens. Their
emotional maturity wasn't equipped to cope with that level of
broadcasted desire and jealousy. It's been difficult, dealing
with released feelings."
"You've probably had a run on that holo of Obi-Wan from last
year's challenge." Qui-Gon wry comment implied he accepted
Mace's revelation with equanimity. "The problem has been
handled? My apprentice won't have to protect himself from
indiscriminate advances?"
Mace nodded, relieved at the other Jedi's placid air. "Your
presence will likely deter any problems. He may receive more
casual inquiries about his availability, but I think everyone's
emotions are relatively stable now."
"Then we'll talk again after we've located a ship. Call ended."
The communications droid ceased the signal, trundling to the
doorway. With a mental blast of energy, it flew through the
air, hitting the wall and knocking plaster loose. "You knew?"
Qui-Gon's tone was deadly with betrayal.
"No," Obi-Wan averred rapidly. "I only saw Mace and non-human
healers. Bant was the only friend who visited. Calamarians
can't mate with humans. I didn't realize."
"You saw Navar." The raw anger was rising in Qui-Gon, the
intense need to dominate, to overwhelm Obi-Wan. Mace had seen
the calm Jedi exterior, but Obi-Wan could feel the emotional
passion seeping from Qui-Gon's mind, into the air, into the
Force.
"Navar is insane." Obi-Wan knew the violence had to be
transmuted before Qui-Gon destroyed the room, created a
confrontation with the hotel security, and was arrested. The
power Qui-Gon was generating was a heavy blanket of energy,
swamping the room. Peacefully, he untied and removed his
neckband, dropping it to the floor. A carrying case flew across
the wall as the Force spiked with Qui-Gon's rage and his
uncontrollable reaction to the sight of the vulnerable line of
his throat, the ever-present healing puncture wounds in the
soft flesh. "I am yours. Only yours."
"They all wanted you. They dreamed of you. They craved you. Our
fellow Jedi." The dresser rocked, pulled away from the wall.
The curtains flew away from the window, blowing in an invisible
wind before falling to hang straight. The need to destroy, to
smash, to obliterate the thought of another lusting after his
Obi-Wan warred with hunger created by his apprentice's willing
surrender as sash, belt, and tunic followed the neckband.
"But I've only wanted you. Saw you in my dreams. Craved you
with my heart and body."
Qui-Gon paced around Obi-Wan's form as the younger man bent
down to remove his boots. "I want to kill them for desiring
you." The bed rose, shook, spun, dropped to the floor with a
heavy clash.
"Forget them, Master. Drink from me. Love me." Ignoring the
furniture, ignoring the waves of energy rippling from Qui-Gon,
Obi-Wan slid his trousers off his hips. He could hear the speed
of Qui-Gon's breath increasing, aroused by his nakedness.
Noises as Qui-Gon's own clothes puddled on the ground, then
huge hands wrapping around his body, one resting on his abdomen
and the other clasped his cock, already stiff in reaction to
Qui-Gon's furious jealousy. Fangs digging more into the
shoulder than his throat, savagely marking the skin, tasting
the blood more than drinking. A thin scarlet path of Obi-Wan's
blood trailed down his front.
"I don't know what taste is sweeter." Qui-Gon's free hand
collected a glistening drop from the head of his apprentice's
cock, then a bead of blood from the wound. His arm crossed over
Obi-Wan's chest, hugging his apprentice fiercely, bringing his
hand to his own mouth. He sucked at both fingers, the sounds of
his greedy absorption next to Obi-Wan's ear. "I want to drink
both," he whispered.
A husky laugh from Obi-Wan. "I think that would be a little
painful, Master."
Qui-Gon buried his face into the back of Obi-Wan's hair,
groaning and laughing in return. "No, I didn't mean quite that
literally. I wouldn't risk that damage." Brushing kisses on the
soft neck, confessing, "You dilute my rage, Obi-Wan." The
constriction in his chest was loosening, the jealousy freed
from its confines and dispersed by Obi-Wan's serene acceptance
and humor.
"Don't fear to lose my love, Master. No one will take me from
you." Obi-Wan was groaning without the laughter as Qui-Gon's
huge hand stroked harder on his cock. Shoving his hips back, he
felt Qui-Gon's erection grind against his body. With Qui-Gon's
chest pressed to his back, Obi-Wan could feel the hard peaks of
his Master's nipples rubbing against his shoulder blades.
Obi-Wan surrendered to the flame sparking through his body, as
Qui-Gon escalated his rhythm, pumping quickly, driving his
Padawan to an ever higher plateau of sensation. "Only I can
make you feel like this. Only I can make the universe explode
in your brain." Obi-Wan pressed his flesh closer to Qui-Gon,
tilting his head, permitting easy access to the vein pulsing in
his throat. The subtle request accepted, the sharp tips of
Qui-Gon's fangs sank into the vulnerable skin as Obi-Wan
shuddered in ecstasy, spurting his seed onto the floor. His
body limp and satisfied, he would have sagged to the ground but
was held up by the arms circling him.
"Only you, Master. Only you," Obi-Wan whispered. "Navar said
it. I was yours before I even knew sex existed."
Qui-Gon drank deeply, craving the sustaining nectar though the
rational part of his mind reminded Obi-Wan had suffered too
much today. When enough warmth spread through his body to
reassure his emotional hunger, he tenderly removed his fangs.
His broad tongue lapped at the two jagged wounds before he
declared, "No one else, ever again, Obi-Wan. No one else shall
ever have your love."
No answer came to his possessive words. Obi-Wan had fainted in
his arms. Gently, Qui-Gon lifted the limp figure, slipping him
under the covers on the bed, checking his pulse. Satisfied that
Obi-Wan's collapse was caused by exhaustion, Qui-Gon spooned
next to him, radiating healing energy into the slim, muscled
body. He threaded the fingers of one hand through the padawan
braid, musing that traveling to Valon may be the better course.
That decision could wait for the morning. Now, he must cherish
Obi-Wan, the man who saved his soul. He kissed Obi-Wan's temple
and whispered into his ear, "Only you, Obi-Wan, only you are my
family."
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