Category: AU, Action/Adventure, H/C, Angst, First Time
Rating: NC17, and not just for the sex (see warning below)
Warnings: Dark Fic. More intense than my normal level of h/c
and includes frank discussion of torture, rape and other non
consentual sexual acts perpetrated upon an underage character.
This direction may upset/disappoint those waiting for this
second part to my AU, but the Very Bad Things that happened
also provide much of the motivation and characterizations I
need, and set up future conflicts/angst. I tried without and
just couldn't make it work.
Spoilers: None; this ain't George or Jude's Jedi. Harmful
copyright infringement is not intended. Monetary profit is not
being made
Summary: Destiny continues to dog our heroes, and allows a
number of deviations. Tatooine, Anakin, Amidala and others
you've been waiting for, but not quite like you might expect
and a couple years too soon.
Kuddos to Master Elayna and GreenThing for their aid in finding
and fixing things; I'm sure they didn't know what they were in
for, but they stuck it out until the end.
Additional Note: I know many of you see Jonathan Rhys Meyers as
Xanatos. For me, here, he is Michael Wincott from the first
Crow movie. Especially the hair.
Final Note: I know he is identified as Even Piell in the
reference material, but his name has been changed here to Evan
for ease in reading.
PROLOGUE
A young initiate entered the changing area just as Jedi Masters
Qui-Gon Jinn and Mace Windu finished lacing their tunics and
leggings after showering off their sweat from weapons practice.
Dressed in Healer green, the boy was calling for Master Jinn,
but a signal from Mace caught the youth's eye. The signal also
caused Qui-Gon to turn around. He gave a nod but said nothing,
hiding the frustration that it had taken so long for someone to
arrive. He doubted the boy was at fault.
Frustrated? Overly eager? Not a Jedi Master. Not this Jedi
Master.
"Master Windu, Master Jinn." Though the young Healer apprentice
had come to speak with Qui-Gon, Mace, as a senior member of the
Council who oversaw the duties and training of all Jedi,
deserved and received the youth's respect first. When it
appeared from the boy's expression, however, that his own
reputation invoked more awe from the boy than the dark-skinned
Councilor, Qui-Gon quickly schooled himself not to smile. He
would wait to rub it in.
"Master Jinn," the boy offered a low bow. "At your convenience,
Master Healer Renchell requests your presence in Healer's
Hall."
Qui-Gon offered a sedate smile, keeping his relief silent and
internal. Finally.
"My thanks, Padawan. Please inform her that I will attend her
shortly."
The youth bowed again and backed away, his steady steps turning
into more of a run as he slipped through the door in his
eagerness to fulfill the instruction. It had been that way ever
since Qui-Gon and Xanatos had returned to the Temple from Telos
after a duty post that had lasted an unforeseen eight long
years. Because the Jedi Master had accepted the assignment for
his Padawan's benefit instead of pursuing his own career
advancement and reputation, the younger initiates and
apprentices seemed to have chosen him as one of their current
heroes.
"You're still not having problems with your leg?" Mace's
amusement at the boy's hero worship faded into concern when the
two Masters were alone again. He gathered up and put away the
last of their equipment then paused and made an abortive move
to gather up Qui-Gon's bag with his own. "I would never have
suggested the sparring --"
Qui-Gon gave a quick shake of his head, his hair damp against
the back of his tunic. The braid he had quickly plaited for the
sparring flipped over his shoulder with a cold thud against his
chest where the tunics opened when he leaned over for his bag,
its length his one vanity. He tossed it back and ignored Mace's
chuckle. Recently the Councilor had taken to shaving the top of
his head completely.
"M'rlee has been looking after Obi-Wan's post operative
recovery. His primary Healer had gone off-planet for some
advance training before we returned from Haven," the Jedi
Master explained as to why the Cynthian who was his usual
choice for a Healer was asking for him. "I asked her to give me
word as to when Obi-Wan would be released."
"Has he decided whether he's going to keep his own quarters?"
Qui-Gon ignored the too broad smile from his old friend, but
figured answering would encourage Mace less than ignoring him.
"Obi-Wan has agreed to move in with me."
Like you didn't know, you old gossip, Qui-Gon thought
further, but refrained from saying out loud.
"Xani -- Xanatos has moved all of his things out, so there is
plenty of room. And it is a Padawan's right to share quarters
with his Master." It was easier to dodge around the others in
various stages of katas or swordplay than it was to speak his
former Padawan's name.
Mace's smile faded into an expression of sympathy but,
thankfully, he did not pursue asking about the current state of
Qui-Gon and Xanatos' damaged relationship as they walked
through the grand salle and out into the corridor. "I suppose
that means I will have to give back a few of your more
interesting souvenirs that you loaned me during your station on
Telos?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "They're yours to keep as long as you
want them, Mace. While I'm not putting all of my former life in
storage, I rather thought to make room for the new things
Obi-Wan and I might collect together." To Qui-Gon's
consternation, part of a faint blush made it past his own
fuller beard and mustache.
While most newly chosen apprentices were required to take up
residence with their Masters at the beginning of their
relationship to help foster the closeness necessary for
training, usually those Padawans were younger than thirteen,
not already in their early twenties. However, since the death
of his Trandoshan Master, Sardenk a'Thuul, five years ago,
Obi-Wan had had his own private quarters and was actually
choosing to leave that which most of his age mates were only
now seeking. Their living together should indeed aid in the
Master/Padawan bond, but Qui-Gon doubted that was the sole
reason Obi-Wan had acquiesced to giving up his independence. Or
even the main reason.
So Qui-Gon fervently hoped.
"It should help others acknowledge him as your Padawan
instead of ours," Mace suggested.
Ours, meaning the Jedi Council. Who had stepped in as a body to
take over Obi-Wan's training instead of encouraging or
assigning him a new Master as was the usual wont when the
Master in a training pair died unexpectedly. There had been
times over the past week that Qui-Gon wondered if the Council's
choice had been made on his own behalf, that they had
interceded directly but had always only been waiting for him to
finish training Xanatos so he could take over Obi-Wan. But such
convoluted measures, while not beyond their scope nor,
especially, Master Yoda's long-term view of a necessary future,
seemed excessive even for them.
He preferred to accept his and Obi-Wan's bonding as just a
happy coincidence. Even when he knew Master Yoda had
taken a direct hand into making sure he and Obi-Wan met.
"Is there reason to fear they would not?" Qui-Gon slowed and
waited to see if Mace intended to come with him to Healers
Hall.
The only human male Councilor shrugged. "Since so few of the
younger residents know either of you other than by reputation,
I don't foresee trouble from your pairing, if that is what you
are asking. Either aspect of your pairing," he added. "Nor is
it likely the two of you will stay on Coruscant long since your
skills so obviously lie in fieldwork." Mace ignored the turn
that would lead to his own quarters or the Council chambers and
continued on.
"At some point we'll want both of you to do some teaching, but
I think your first couple of years will still be spent off
Coruscant more than on."
"Not until we've had a chance to fully recover from this last
mission, " Qui-Gon protested, knowing all too well how few Jedi
there were for fieldwork, and how many problems needed
attention. Healer guidelines and even the Council's own rules
on breaks between missions seemed to be overlooked all too
often in recent years. That had been the case for both Qui-Gon
and his new Padawan on this mission just passed that had
brought them together. And had left them both with serious
injury, no doubt in part from not having sufficient recovery
time after the previous mission.
Mace looked affronted. "Of course not, Qui-Gon." But then he
winked and gave a sly grin. "Though I think you'll more need
the time to recover from being home, than from any residual
injury."
If Mace expected Qui-Gon to blush again, the Councilor would be
disappointed. He had found no reason to hide that his and
Obi-Wan's joining might be more than just that of a Master and
senior Padawan, so he wasn't surprised Mace had found out. Or
was making it out to be a big deal.
"Jealous, Mace? Or are you expecting me to be embarrassed that
my bond is with someone Obi-Wan's age?"
Mace grinned wider. "If I admitted that, I would have to be
embarrassed about my own age and agree to limit my own
interests." He shook his head. "I do not intend to do that
until I am at least as old as Master Yoda."
Qui-Gon looked sideways at the shorter Master. "Ah, so I was
correct to note there is something between you and the lovely
Corellian Councilor?"
While it was nearly impossible to see a flush on such a dark
complexion, Qui-Gon knew Mace well enough to read an admission
of guilt in the sudden stiffening of his friend's stride and
the tightening of skin all the more visible from being accented
by his newly grown facial hair.
"She and I are just friends," came the defensive reply.
"Just as Obi-Wan and I are only Master and Padawan," Qui-Gon
laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised if the two of you don't get
together before he and I do."
He wasn't sure, but for an instant Qui-Gon thought he saw a
glimmer of relief cross Mace's expression.
"You mean you two didn't already -- you haven't --"
On the one hand, Qui-Gon was not one to boast of his
relationships, not even to the one who had once been his best
friend and even closer. On the other hand, ever since the
moment of their first meeting and even more since recognizing
they had bonded, Qui-Gon had barely been able to contain a
burning desire to tell everyone of this unexpected, unforeseen,
absolutely wondrous love he felt for Obi-Wan Kenobi.
There had been no salaciousness, not even the tone of teasing
he had come to expect from Mace's question, however. Instead,
Mace had shuddered in a frisson born of relief or remorse, or
something even less defined. As if it was important that
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had not yet consummated the attraction
between them.
Was Mace jealous?
Yes, he and Mace had once had a lover's relationship. But that
had been more than ten years ago, and they had also grown as
far apart as they had once been close. Mace's lack of admission
about Adi Gallia notwithstanding, both men had moved on with
their lives. Nor had Mace particularly shown jealousy when
Qui-Gon had fallen in love with his former Padawan, Xanatos du
Crion; it had been Qui-Gon's own reticence and the subsequent
stationing on Telos for eight years that had ended their
relationship. So why would he be jealous now? About someone he
knew well and liked himself, who had never been a rival in any
form before now?
Or might Mace be jealous of him? Might he have had
designs on Obi-Wan himself?
"We've hardly had time to even begin to get to know each other,
Mace," he finally offered. "Between the mission and coming
home, because of our injuries we've done little more than admit
our attraction to each other." He gave a shrug. "There is
always tonight, a celebration, perhaps, of our new home and
homecoming. But this is also his first day away from the
Healers and only his second out from the bacta tank. He may not
be up to much more -- I may not be up to much more."
Which hadn't stopped Qui-Gon from dreaming about more last
night. Or hoping.
The need to dodge around a group of laughing children and their
harried-looking instructor kept Mace from responding. Even
after they were gone, Mace was slow in framing his answer.
"Have you two actually talked about having another relationship
beyond Master and Padawan?" He held up a hand to keep from
being interrupted as Qui-Gon opened his mouth to do just that.
"I know you've already bonded. And it's not as if I am against
it. Frankly," he added with a serious expression, "I think
Obi-Wan is better suited for you long term than Xan is. Was."
Mace then sighed and rubbed down his chin and neck. "I am only
concerned about the difficulties, the potential for
misunderstandings or assumptions, given the great differences
in your ex-experiences."
"There haven't been that many experiences," Qui-Gon said
with some small sense of exasperation. Mace was still
uncharacteristically reacting like a jealous lover. And had he
actually stuttered?
"There was Lise before you, and then a couple of people on
Telos. Even though those relationships were based more out of a
mutual need for companionship than love, I will tell him about
them if he wants to know. And I certainly do not care about his
--" Qui-Gon suddenly frowned as Mace actually paled.
"You are not implying that Obi-Wan is still a virgin? I mean, I
know he doesn't have many friends, but he is a vibrant,
attractive and healthy twenty-one year old human male."
Well, healthy in a relative sense that didn't take into account
being a Jedi in active field duty.
No, from the few exchanges of kisses they had had on and upon
leaving Haven, those had not been the actions or responses of a
virgin. Or someone inexperienced with the ways between two men.
Qui-Gon's frown then deepened as Mace's continued silence led
him to consider other things. They could have simply been
trained responses, he supposed, even though he had been
convinced that Obi-Wan had been enjoying himself almost as much
as Qui-Gon had been. According to his Padawan's records, he and
a'Thuul had gone after slavers more than once, with Obi-Wan
acting as a slave. Qui-Gon suddenly grew cold. No, acting
and forced. Had he been making a mistake, had he acted
because of a set of horrible assumptions?
Mace's matching frown and darkening eyes gave him no answers he
wanted to hear.
It would not matter to Qui-Gon if Obi-Wan was a virgin or not.
Other than feeling the age difference between them all the more
if his Padawan was. But a lack or excess of sexual experiences
might matter quite a bit to Obi-Wan.
The records and most recent evaluations Qui-Gon had been
provided with had gone to great lengths to point out how often
Obi-Wan had been away from the Temple since becoming a Padawan.
And that, much to the advisors' concerns therefore, Obi-Wan
really hadn't developed any friendships; at least no close
ones. Nor was there mention of him ever having taken a lover.
That could just mean Obi-Wan hadn't joined with another Jedi,
and that he had been discreet --
But there were also Obi-Wan's flashes of acute shyness during
that first day on Haven, when he had become aware of Qui-Gon's
interest in him. The evidence of experience -- quite skillful
experience -- had come only at Obi-Wan's initiation, and that
had only been when he was trying to keep intact their cover.
Had Qui-Gon simply imagined the enthusiasm on Obi-Wan's part?
Or the mutual attraction?
Had their reactions simply been danger-driven? All part of a
survival instinct to attain closeness so as to protect or be
protected?
What if they were only Force-driven, a tiny doubt in the back
of his mind whispered. Their -- his -- attraction being just
added insurance that they would bond as Master and Padawan. Or
simply to ensure the success in the mission; their bonding only
for the greater good instead of being for the benefit of each
other.
But that would mean that all life and all choices were fated.
While Qui-Gon might believe in seeking guidance from the Force,
he could not believe his choice in how to accept that guidance
didn't matter.
"Oh, don't start listening to me, Qui-Gon," the other Master
Jedi said in a rush, his expression changing from dismay to
contrition. "I am certain your bonds are true, that he is just
in much in love with you as you are him. I saw the looks you
were giving him when you two were taken to the Healers, and
also the look he gave you back when they were about to dump him
into the tank." He gave a little laugh that Qui-Gon didn't
quite believe.
"It just sounds like you have everything already planned," Mace
continued. "Even if just for today and so I had a moment of
worry. But I'm sure you need only worry that Obi-Wan hasn't
made some plans of his own."
Although Qui-Gon was convinced that hadn't been what Mace
originally meant to say, he allowed the redirection of the
topic. Even before Mace had become a member of the Council, he
had not been one to be drawn out about something he didn't want
to talk about. Rather much like himself, Qui-Gon had to concede
in self-honesty.
"Have you two been talking? Is there something I should know?"
That flash of guilt, quickly hidden in Mace's eyes was not what
Qui-Gon had been expecting and the Councilor's continued sober
mien fed Qui-Gon's quietly growing concern that there was
something he was not aware of.
"Well, you do realize he will probably want to spend at least
part of the afternoon visiting Depa, instead of packing and
moving? The Healers let him see her for a few moments
yesterday, but she had only come out of bacta a few hours
before him, and had not yet awoken."
As a diversion, Mace's comments worked quite well, and Qui-Gon
found himself rubbing a thumb along his bearded chin, as he was
wont to do when frustrated or lapsing into self-pity. "I hadn't
even thought about that," he acknowledged with a deepening
frown. "And I should have. Of course he will want to spend time
with Depa, she had been the last Master he had been working
with, after all. And they both had a time of it." It was his
turn to be contrite. "I didn't even think to ask about her. How
is she?"
Like most Masters, Mace had an abounding, on-going concern for
his former Padawan, Depa Billaba. That his first, and so far
only, apprentice had gone on to join him on the Council had
served to bring them even closer in the years since she had
become a Master in her own right. Indeed, she had been Master
to Obi-Wan for his last mission prior to meeting Qui-Gon, a
mission that had ended with a bomb placed in their transport.
Although injured, Obi-Wan had been able to respond to the
emergency Qui-Gon was then dispatched to take over, while Depa
had been placed on a ship back to Coruscant in stasis.
Mace gave a happy sigh and reached up to clasp the hand Qui-Gon
had placed on his upper arm. "The Healers say she will make a
full recovery. For which I very much want to thank Obi-Wan. And
I want you to know I truly was not trying to imply anything
with regard to his loyalties, before or now. It is very obvious
that the two of you are properly bonded as Master and Padawan.
And that you are developing an even deeper closeness. I just
wanted to remind you not to lose sight of that first bond in
your excitement and wonder of the second." His next sigh was
not quite as content.
"Obi-Wan might have different priorities and needs, especially
at first. As he has not had someone so directly involved in his
day to day decision-making for five years, the likely
challenges to your authority are not out of disrespect but a
habit of self-reliance. I fear because you have never been too
patient with people who question your decisions, well ..." Mace
trailed off, gave a wry smile and a shrug.
Qui-Gon frowned, but couldn't really protest. Mace was quite
right, his the knowledge stemming from years of experience with
them working together, and from clinical observation of
Qui-Gon's work with others. Qui-Gon's own sense of
self-reliance and confidence bordered on arrogance, at least to
those not quite so in tune with the Living Force. Few could see
the necessity of his actions as clearly, especially when such
actions contradicted their own ideas or plans. It had never
mattered to Qui-Gon if he was disagreeing with a politician,
battle leader, planetary or multi-system leader, or even the
Jedi Council. He did as he must, despite the personal
ramifications or censures that might slow his advancement
within the Order.
It had been far easier for him to argue or disregard those of
an equal or higher rank. Dealing with a disagreement with a
subordinate, however, had often left him feeling guilty. In
such a situation he could simply assert his authority to end
any argument without having to justify the actions or even
explain them. He had been fortunate that, while Xanatos had
disagreed often enough in their time together, his former
Padawan had never quite been able to argue very convincingly an
alternate viewpoint.
Not until he had said no to Qui-Gon's offer of staying together
when Xanatos had gone from Padawan to Knight.
Of course, if Xan hadn't finally stood up to his Master,
Qui-Gon would never have then found the other half of his soul.
Who, despite their instant closeness and bond, had already
challenged and defied his decisions more in the ten days they
had known each other than Xan had throughout their entire
fifteen year relationship!
"Undoubtedly you will need to make time in his training
schedule over the next few weeks for him to finish up several
lessons or interactions with other Masters," Mace also gently
pointed out as he then let go of Qui-Gon and waved his hand in
the air. His next words were accompanied by a broader, more
natural smile.
"But you'll both be given whatever time you need to make
adjustments. Even if you two weren't already scheduled for
downtime before this last mission, the Council isn't interested
in rushing you back into service too soon. I imagine you can
count on at least a month to get to know one another before you
need to worry about being Jedi. In whatever capacity the two of
you chose." His smile now softened. "I think you will be happy
to know both the man and the Jedi, Qui-Gon. Even if he is a
little headstrong and contrary," said fondly.
"How many missions did you and Obi-Wan have together, Mace?" He
wasn't jealous, just surprised by the fondness. For someone who
didn't seem to have any friends, a lot of people still seemed
to like his new Padawan.
Mace held open one of the ornate doors that separated the
Healers Hall from the other public levels of the temple and
gestured for Qui-Gon to proceed him. "Seven. And I would have
happily asked him to join me in more had my expertise
been needed. I think you will find any of the other Councilors
would feel the same, even Ki for all of the Knight's bluster
about Obi-Wan having a misplaced sense of humor and lack of
proper respect." Mace then snorted. "If anyone has a misplaced
sense of humor, it is Ki. Since he doesn't have one."
Qui-Gon chuckled at that; he had suspected Ki and Mace
to have found Obi-Wan's dry humor a bit difficult to take,
especially as it seemed to come out in the oddest of times. At
least as it had in Qui-Gon's admittedly limited experience.
It wasn't that Ki Adi-Mundi didn't understand humor, he just
didn't exhibit much of an appreciation for the same things
humans found amusing. Much like Mace had seemed to lose his own
sense of the absurd once he had joined the Council. In Ki's
case, Qui-Gon suspected it more came from the differences in
interpreting things, as his species had a binary brain more set
to figuring out complex puzzles and orderly patterns such as
linguistics, mathematics and spatial sciences instead of the
very subjective and disparate vagaries of humor.
Too bad Mace didn't have the same excuse for being staid and
stuffy when sitting in those august chambers.
"I found Obi-Wan to be a capable and remarkable young man,"
Mace was continuing, although he had quieted his voice in
respect to the surroundings they were heading into. "I was even
considering taking him as my own Padawan if I didn't think I
would need to give up my Council seat to give him the proper
attention." He grinned again. "Or have to fight Master Yoda for
the privilege."
Qui-Gon felt a thrill of unaccustomed pride suffuse him. As he
was only Obi-Wan's Master in name so far, any pride he felt was
more from the bolstering of his own ego than anything he could
claim having a hand in. Of course, as a proper Jedi, it
shouldn't really matter how others felt about Obi-Wan. Not as
long as there was at least respect and/or cooperation to ensure
any needed duties would have been completed. But Jedi training
or not, Qui-Gon was also still human and male, and could not
completely surrender the primal and atavistic need to measure
his own self worth in how others reacted to his selection of a
mate.
"I shall then have to thank Master Yoda for keeping you in
check long enough for me to meet him." Qui-Gon also lowered his
voice so as not to disrupt the calm the Hall engendered, but
not enough to hide his sarcasm. He believed Mace, both in the
other's consideration in taking on Obi-Wan's training himself,
and in the confirmation of Master Yoda's direct interest. But
he also knew how keen Mace was to be on the Council, and how
unwilling Master Yoda was to take on another Padawan, since his
last one had been quite a trial. For either of them to actually
consider giving up their strongly held convictions meant the
Padawan would have to be special indeed.
Qui-Gon was quite looking forward to confirming his own opinion
of this special Padawan again himself. And to feeling the full
extent of their bond restored, even if it meant being in less
control of his emotions and physical reactions than a Master
perhaps should. Like the cells held apart for interrogations or
incarcerations within the Temple's eastern tower, Healers Hall
was shielded from the normal flow of the Force. Too often their
patients might not be able to shield or control themselves, and
unconstrained Force wielders could be dangerous even without
meaning to be. So he and Obi-Wan had necessarily been blocked
from each other's feelings and emotions for the three days his
Padawan had been at the mercies of his Healers, save for the
few hours Qui-Gon had been allowed to visit. For only one of
those hours had Obi-Wan actually been conscious. The rest of
the time, Qui-Gon had only felt the residual pain of Obi-Wan's
injuries, and his comfort from Qui-Gon's acknowledged presence
through their link.
And their love.
"Assuming you are both sufficiently recovered, you might want
to consider entering yourselves in the pairs tournament coming
up next month," Mace suggested as they both ignored the droid
that had come up to offer assistance. "It might help further
Obi-Wan's interaction with his agemates and the other
apprentices. Master a'Thuul never kept them at Temple long
enough to consider it, even had Sardenk been willing to
participate. And later, none of us on the Council could figure
out if it would be right for Obi-Wan to enter when he didn't
have a specific Master. Being collectively trained didn't
really help him to become anything more than an enigma to his
peers."
Qui-Gon snagged up one of the electronic pads he could use to
acknowledge taking responsibility for his Padawan's care away
from the Hall, then moved along the path he felt he already
knew too well for all that these last three days was his first
time in having to wait vigil on Obi-Wan. Given that his last
few years had been spent on Telos with its relatively stable
transitional government while everyone waited for Xan's younger
brother to grow up, Qui-Gon had forgotten how much he hated
these pale blue hallways and what they represented.
It was bad enough that he was a rotten patient himself, often
arguing and chaffing under the necessary restrictions imposed
by the Healers on his own behalf. But being here became almost
intolerable -- he became almost intolerable to be around --
when someone he cared for needed a Healer's services. Which is
why he had asked M'rlee to handle Obi-Wan; she was already
quite well aware of how difficult and rude Qui-Gon could be.
"What about giving us time for him to take some of the group
classes?" Qui-Gon asked to distract himself from the melancholy
path his thoughts wanted to take. He just knew he'd be
spending too much time here in the future.
Seeing Obi-Wan in the bacta had almost been worse than seeing
Obi-Wan receiving the injuries that had put him within the
tank. Although its healing properties were unarguably one of
the greatest discoveries in the Republic, bacta immersion was
also straight out of Qui-Gon's nightmares, no matter which side
of the glass he was trapped on. The tube represented the
ultimate helplessness. You were either constrained inside and
at the mercy of the medical droids who monitored and took over
the actions of much of your own bodily functions, or you were
restrained without, prevented from touching, from offering
whatever feeble comfort you might be able to give. In either
case, you were wholly dependent on someone or something else
for your freedom.
Mace frowned. "To the best of my knowledge, Obi-Wan hasn't
attended many in the past. It might be difficult to find any
this session that he has the prerequisites for. Being gone so
often, he didn't pick up the disciplines in any proper order so
as to be able to join in most of the formal classes. Master
a'Thuul let him choose his own courses for study --"
"Don't you mean abandoned him to the point where Obi-Wan
had to figure out his own track of studies?" Qui-Gon
growled, his natural aversion to Healers translating itself
into hostility against the convenient target of Obi-Wan's
former Master. "It is fortunate he had the discipline to be
pursuing his studies, since it is obvious that a'Thuul never
reviewed the track or his progress. Or cared to see whether
Obi-Wan was keeping up with his agemates."
Actually, he had several targets for his anger. "By all that is
Light, why didn't anyone discover or care about that before
a'Thuul's death, Mace?"
Why didn't you?
Which got him another frown, though it didn't necessarily mean
Mace had overheard his thoughts. Or that Mace wouldn't have
agreed with the silent accusation anyway.
"During their pairing, a'Thuul seemed happy enough with
Obi-Wan's rate of progress," Mace shrugged. "Nor was it as if
Obi-Wan didn't exhibit his intelligence and show he was
widely-versed in many subjects when others interacted with or
tested him. It's just structure that was lacking then, maybe
still a few of the fundamentals now. At the time no one was too
concerned in the face of what he did know and what he could
do." Not offered as an excuse, but simply the information
Qui-Gon had asked for.
"What you are saying is that while he had the skills we Jedi
needed him to have, no one bothered to find out if he had the
skills he might need." Qui-Gon couldn't stop from
venting his anger and frustration even when he knew Mace wasn't
personally responsible. But the Councilor did make a good
representative of those who were.
Mace sighed. "Well, yes. And after a'Thuul's death, he had
enough to deal with in getting over his grief and wondering
what would happen to him. His evaluators decided that placing
him with those much younger wouldn't help him catch up in any
case, nor really be needed since he had always shown a
remarkable ability to learn on his own. Ki and Plo have been
working with him to fill in most of the holes." Another shrug.
"Obi-Wan has never complained."
"He didn't know enough to complain!" Qui-Gon snarled. "He had
no friends to compare his study load with, nor --"
Mace pulled them into an empty room before Qui-Gon's agitation
could bring them reprimand or actually get them kicked out of
the Hall for disrupting the needed calm for the patients.
"Let it go, Qui-Gon," he offered with no hostility for baring
the brunt of Qui-Gon's blame. His wild, out of control
emotions. "There is no changing the past, other than using what
we've learned to ensure we do not make the same mistakes in the
future. Which is now up to you to oversee in Obi-Wan's case. If
Sardenk a'Thuul had been the kind of Master you are, yes, he
very well might not have died on Sacorria. But then you and
Obi-Wan might not have ever met."
"So help me, Mace, if you say what he went through was the Will
of the Force, I will slug you."
Qui-Gon had expected a laugh at that, and his breath caught at
the ... something that flitted across Mace's expression before
the soft -- and false -- laugh finally came. Guilt, remorse,
shame? When Qui-Gon saw it as the conversation had first begun
and convinced himself he hadn't imagined it, he felt patient
enough to wait for Mace to explain or spill his obvious inside
information. But now he had to wonder if it wasn't so much a
secret as an active participation in something Qui-Gon wasn't
now as certain he wanted to know about.
Had he been right when he silently accused Master Yoda of
manipulating him and Obi-Wan? Maybe, but surely not to the
point of his former Master or the Council having a hand in
a'Thuul's death?
No!
Such schemes were not of the Light. Such speculations were not
of the Light! Whatever else Qui-Gon might rail about with some
of the Council's decisions, he knew they were looking out for
the Order even when they might disagree about how to go about
it. And he knew at least Mace and Master Yoda would never so
stray, would never allow their fellows to so stray. Master
Yoda's precognition was not so irrefutable as to give sanction
to someone's death just so that two people might one day meet.
Qui-Gon might as well willingly embrace the dark paths of the
Sith were he to believe such a calculation possible of his
fellow Jedi. Of his friends.
"I don't need to say it since you already have, my friend,"
Mace smiled. "Any moment in our lives can lead to an infinite
number of other moments --"
"-- which is why we should only live in the one before us.
Please, I know the philosophies." Qui-Gon sighed and very
deliberately decided not to pursue the cause for that brief
unease in the other's face. If it was something Mace had done,
frankly he didn't want to know. Not yet at least. And if it was
something Obi-Wan had done, well, that was what part of coming
together entailed. Qui-Gon already knew he didn't have enough
information of the circumstances of Obi-Wan's past, to have
been making all the assumptions and judgments he already had,
especially against Sardenk a'Thuul. Just as he knew Mace would
forgive him for making them. And, as he would hope, Obi-Wan
would also be forgiving.
He sighed again more deeply and used the breath to also try and
release his agitation. "It's still hard to understand what
a'Thuul did, Mace," he said now more in sadness than anger.
"And to know what others did not do. When I think of what
Obi-Wan has been through, how much he was --"
"I thought you told me you loved Obi-Wan." Mace's unease was
suddenly replaced with the very real heat of anger. An anger
even more disconcerting, as it was so unexpected.
"What are you saying, Mace?" With just one look, Qui-Gon was
abruptly reminded of why so few liked to go up against Mace
Windu either in combat or debate. Unlike Qui-Gon's own more
volatile and open expression of the occasional emotion, even in
anger Mace stayed calm. In full control. This was a man who
made very, very few mistakes because of his emotions and,
therefore, made very, very few mistakes in any form of battle.
"You are making it sound like Obi-Wan is someone unworthy of
your time and attention," Mace said flatly. "Like he is too far
behind to bother with, or too ... damaged. Like you want to
ensure you will not be blamed should something else happen.
Like you want the Council to reevaluate and dissolve your
pairing in spite of your bond --"
"No!" A sudden burst of fear and responsive anger flooded
through Qui-Gon. In an instant his fingers turned white and
nearly numb from how tightly he needed to grip the pad in his
fist to keep from throwing it at the wall. Or at Mace.
Thank the Force that the rooms were shielded!
"Then what is the problem, Qui-Gon?" Mace closed the distance
between them, the sternness disappearing so quickly from his
posture and expression that Qui-Gon realized it had been
calculated even as it had also been quite real.
Had Qui-Gon been wrong about what he thought he had read in
Mace's expression? Was he projecting only his own doubts on the
other because he was refusing to acknowledge them himself? For
a moment longer Qui-Gon stayed silent and unmoving. Then he
wandered over toward the empty bed and let the pad drop, before
wearily taking a seat.
Mace stood patiently, giving him the time and opportunity to
see if he could find an answer. Or the right question.
Obviously there was something, some doubt or problem more than
just an undefined suspicion about something Mace might know
that he did not.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and yielded up conscious thought to the
Force. Now that he wasn't trying to find or force it onto
someone else, he could sense it within himself.
"Guilt."
He opened his eyes to see Mace raise a brow.
"For?"
For an instant Qui-Gon let his head drop back on his neck and
studied the pale blue ceiling, then brought it back forward to
meet the other's still patient gaze. Years ago this had been a
constant exchange between them during or after joint
mediations, knowing all too often that although the need to
examine and understand could become painful, it was better to
learn before it could hurt someone else.
Qui-Gon consciously willed his shoulders to relax. "Probably
for everything," he finally said.
Mace let a smile touch his lips as he came over and sat with
him on the bed. "How about we deal with everything, one
at a time."
Qui-Gon nodded, then took and released another deep breath.
"Obi-Wan and a'Thuul. Obi-Wan having to be with a'Thuul instead
of someone who would have nurtured his spirit instead of just
encouraged his physical skills."
Mace nodded as if anticipating this one, as if he had once felt
the same thing and had needed the same words. Had he and Master
Yoda already had this conversation?
"It was not you who paired them, Qui-Gon. Who blessed the
pairing or continued to allow them to stay together. If there
is guilt in that, it belongs to the Council, to me. Not you.
You had your own Padawan and missions to look after."
With Mace acknowledging some complicity in what Obi-Wan had
gone through, in allowing Obi-Wan to go through it, Qui-Gon
could probably skip identifying the guilt he felt in blaming
Mace and the others on the Council. Those unnamed Healers and
evaluators. To let go of this guilt, he just needed to let go
of the blame. All of that was the past as Mace had said, their
pairing had never been something he had awareness of or
opportunity to deal with. His responsibility -- and this form
of guilt -- lay in his part of shaping Obi-Wan's future. As he
had Xan's.
Who now no longer wanted to see him.
"You've done two fine jobs in raising Padawan apprentices to
Knights," Mace offered, seeming to anticipate his next point.
"You have nothing to feel guilty in them."
"Other than the fact that I've already replaced my last one?"
Qui-Gon snorted derisively. "That no sooner than I proclaim my
desire to love and stay with Xan throughout the rest of our
lives, I find I have feelings for someone else?"
"Well, I was going to say that you needed feel no guilt or
worry about training yet another Padawan." Mace gave
another gentle grin, then reach over to grasp Qui-Gon's hand
within his. "But with regard to Xanatos, you've done nothing
beyond finding that other future he directed you toward. He is
the one who chose to carry on with life and duty alone, after
you offered to stay at his side. To love him. When he said no,
he left you no choice but to move on."
Although the pattern Mace used to rub a couple of fingers over
the back of Qui-Gon's hand was meant to be soothing -- was
soothing -- Qui-Gon was not yet ready to be so calmed. "But it
is too soon."
A broader smile tugged at Mace's lips. "When you realized you
loved Xanatos, did that mean you stopped loving me?'
Qui-Gon closed his eyes. "No," he said softly. "But I knew we
could no longer be together."
"As did I. As does Xan. The time for us to be lovers was over."
Mace continued the massage. "Our parting hurt, but I knew your
heart was big enough to keep a place for me even when you found
your love for him. Which showed me my heart could be big too.
And I knew that one day we would again be friends. Which, apart
from how good the sex was, was always the more important thing
between us."
"Now. Finally," Qui-Gon whispered.
Mace nodded. "Yes, now, finally. And even as you have found
someone else to love."
"Obi-Wan."
"Obi-Wan." Mace kissed the hand he had been rubbing, then stood
and placed his hands on Qui-Gon's shoulders. "I expect there
will be some jealousy when Xanatos finds out, but he has also
had the blessing of being taught, being raised by you, and will
eventually come to see he still has a place with you just as I
did." He then leaned down slightly and kissed Qui-Gon's
forehead. "Remember, you did not seek out someone to fill the
hole in your heart. Obi-Wan came to fill it on his own
volition."
Qui-Gon lifted his head until their lips brushed against each
other. No passion, but there were too many memories and
emotions between them for it to be completely chaste, too.
"Thank you, my friend. For saying this, and for not minding
having to do so."
Mace squeezed the shoulders he still held on to, and didn't yet
let go. "You still have more guilt."
Qui-Gon nodded. "The Force brought us together so quickly,
Mace. I wasn't seeking out someone like Obi-Wan, nor was he
seeking one such as me. But he didn't have much of a choice in
accepting me as a new Master. As maybe something more." He
sighed. "What if he comes to resent this lack of control over
his life? His future?"
"I have two things to say to that, Qui-Gon -- no three. First,
Obi-Wan is an adult and is independently minded enough to say
no, even to a Master such as yourself. You will find this out
soon enough if you haven't already," came the admonishment and
warning, then a private smile that spoke of remembrances
Qui-Gon knew he would want to ask about sometime in the
future.
"My second point is that you have chosen willingly to live your
life through the Will of the Force. To deny it now would be
uncharacteristic, not to mention rather hypocritical."
Qui-Gon had to blush and nod at that.
The Councilor's smile in response to that reaction softened
along with his tone as he continued. "Three ... three, this
part of the conversation is the one you should be having with
someone else. Someone who is probably chaffing under Master
Healer Renchell's refusal to let him loose while they are
waiting for your arrival."
But for a moment Mace's eyes had darkened, again giving Qui-Gon
the feeling that Mace had changed his words, that what the
Councilor had finished with was not his first intended third
point. Qui-Gon gave Mace's hands a squeeze against his
shoulders and paused to see if there would be something else,
then rose when it became obvious there would not.
"I guess being on the Council has been good for you, Mace," he
offered mildly before stepping away to enact the other's
suggestion. At least his emotions were now back under control
and he could finish the walk without being chastised by any
Healer they passed for his disruptive influence. "I certainly
don't remember you evidencing such wisdom when we were
younger."
"Hah! I wasn't the one who got into trouble after being caught
coating Master Yoda's gimer stick with sulith oil," the Master
Jedi argued as he followed Qui-Gon out the door. "If you
remember, I was well on the way of talking him out of punishing
you --"
"The only reason I was punished, was because I was Yoda's own
Padawan. He needed to make an example of someone even though he
knew I wasn't the one behind the prank."
"No, I distinctly remember you suggesting --"
"Hush, we're here." And before Mace could further comment or
protest, Qui-Gon quickly knocked on the door before them.
There was no answer. With a frown and a bewildered look shared
between them, Qui-Gon tried the door.
It opened. But the room was empty.
Chapter One
"Thank you for coming with me to visit Master Billaba."
Keeping to the pace set by the Master Jedi at his side would
normally be driving Obi-Wan Kenobi crazy. While he knew part of
the slowness was due to the other's great age and small
stature, Obi-Wan had no doubt that Master Yoda took great
delight in such a necessity, as it also served to teach
patience. Today, however, their speed suited Obi-Wan just fine
despite his impatience, since that impatience and the need for
such a pace himself resulted from the same thing. Although
twenty-one, for the past few days Obi-Wan felt as old as the
Master he walked with.
There had been too much damage in too few days to yet be
healed.
The time spent in the care of the Healers and in bacta had
replenished and repaired the depletion and actual physical
injuries, however it would take another couple of days to
convince Obi-Wan's muscles and mind that he would no longer
hurt when he moved. And a few more days beyond that would be
needed before he would have the permission, never mind the
energy, to begin restoring the flexibility and fitness that
almost two weeks of missing his normal training regime had
disrupted.
"Mine the pleasure is, young Obi-Wan," the small, green Master
offered with a happy cackle barely heard over the rhythmic
tapping of his walking stick. "See you I would have, even if
not also needing to see Windu's former Padawan, I was."
"I am honored, Master Yoda, and thank you for your concern of
my well-being."
Since she was a member of the Jedi Council, Obi-Wan had no
doubt that all the Councilors had been in and out of Depa
Billaba's room now that she had finally regained consciousness
from injuries sustained almost two weeks ago. Even he had been
visited by one himself before Master Yoda. Master Adi Gallia.
The beautiful, dark-skinned Councilor from the Corellian System
was Master Billaba's best friend and had been their contact
during the mission where Master Billaba had sustained her
injuries. Master Gallia had come not only to get their mission
report from him since, although conscious, Master Billaba still
wasn't able to speak much, but also to check in on his own
status. Which Obi-Wan had found surprising, yet quite
gratifying.
Obi-Wan also expected to see Councilor Koth soon, too.
Especially after having needed to spend much of the morning
with the Mind Healer, Master Wekh. Both of the Iridians had
worked with him through the years after tough missions. But he
hadn't expected to be spending this time with Master Yoda, even
though he knew that, for some strange reason, the diminutive
Master genuinely liked him. As the eldest and most respected of
all the Jedi, Master Yoda's presence or wisdom was constantly
sought after, sometimes to the point of the ancient one needing
to leave Coruscant just to get away from the overwhelming
demands of others. To have him want to spend time with any
Padawan --
"It is you to thank we must, for keeping alive Master Billaba.
And pleased am I, to see that your own needs you are finally
seeing to."
Obi-Wan blushed from Master Yoda's gratitude, the attention in
general, and from the pat of approval against his hand. Now
that he had seen for himself that Master Billaba was truly on
her way to a full recovery from the bomb-induced crash that had
nearly killed them both, Obi-Wan could admit that maybe he had
helped save her life. All he had dwelt on before was that it
had been his fault she had gotten hurt in the first place.
Maybe he was finally to the point to begin letting go the
tension and guilt his Healers had been counseling him to
release.
Thus giving him opportunity to focus on new tensions. And an
even older guilt.
Along with those needs Master Yoda was all to well aware of.
The mission with Master Billaba would be the last he would
undertake with one of the Jedi Council acting as his de facto
Master. And while he was thrilled to have finally bonded with a
permanent Master, he still felt a strong measure of remorse for
the necessity of this change in his life. Although unorthodox
and probably detrimental to any chance of a normal progression
to knighthood, Obi-Wan had greatly enjoyed his unique position
of being able to learn from the best the Order had to offer,
sporadic and schizophrenic though those lessons might have
been. Of course, he was trading learning from those the Order
most respected, to begin learning from he whom most of the
Order compared themselves to. The best negotiator, best
warrior, most confident ...
Yes, he was thrilled. And absolutely terrified.
It wasn't the thought of losing his independence, of being
supervised and living with someone that terrified him, although
Obi-Wan knew he would have big adjustments to make to be
comfortable with just that. His early independence had been a
fluke, and it might actually be nice to have the same type of
structure to his life he saw in others of his age. Certainly
Qui-Gon had already proved to be adept not only in looking out
for Obi-Wan's needs as a Jedi, but also for his needs as a
person. And that last bit was something he really hadn't had
before. Ever. All of his interactions with his former non-human
Master, his Teachers, too many Healers, and even the Council.
At least the Councilors had made an effort to change that.
Unfortunately Qui-Gon's willingness and adeptness to care was
also the source of so many of Obi-Wan's new fears and doubts.
The depth of Qui-Gon's caring had manifested into a bond beyond
what normally bound Master and Padawan. Or so he was led to
believe, never having even had that type of bond before. Master
Healer Wekh was saying that this new bond was much more
reminiscent to that between lovers or soulmates.
Having little experience with the first type on bonding,
Obi-Wan had absolutely no idea how to deal with the second.
"Sit here we will," Master Yoda suddenly announced, smacking
his walking stick against Obi-Wan's shin (albeit very gently)
to reinforce his command. "Talk more we should."
While Obi-Wan did not doubt that Master Yoda had caught the
tenor of his thoughts and would have made the same insistence
even if there was only the floor to sit on, neither would
Obi-Wan have considered not obeying the order. He may not
understand why Master Yoda had chosen to take an active
interest in his well-being, but he had no doubts of his own
feelings toward the oldest living Jedi. Even if his age didn't
earn him instant respect, Master Yoda's wisdom, experience and
willingness to offer such, endeared him to everyone who had
ever met him.
Well, to be honest there were those who were scared to death of
having Master Yoda's interest, but that had never been Obi-Wan.
He helped the gnarled Master up onto the cushioned chaise. It
was tucked into an alcove that overlooked one of the numerous
gardens scattered throughout all of the levels of the Temple.
He then took a seat next to the Master, barely containing the
impulse to pull his legs up also and wrap his arms around his
knees. Obi-Wan knew the forthcoming discussion came from
concern and was not meant as a reprimand; the Master's long and
pointed ears were still upraised instead of drooping in
disappointment. Yet almost everything Master Yoda said imparted
a lesson of some form, and it was hard not to feel chastened.
The tenet told Jedi to shun fear lest they start down the path
toward Darkness. A laudable goal, and one Obi-Wan did strive
for. But at the same time, no sane being could completely
eliminate all fear in their life -- fear also taught prudence
and common sense. The trick, of course, was to control the
fear, to recognize it and, therefore, take away its hold.
Confrontation or knowledge were a Jedi's best tools for this.
Sometimes, though, a Jedi might need a little help.
"Big day for you, this is." The Master used his stick to twist
around and slide back against the end of the chaise, now facing
Obi-Wan instead of the wall opposite to where they sat. And
again with the stick which was gnarled not quite as much as his
own skin, Master Yoda gestured that Obi-Wan could give in to
his desire to do the same. Which Obi-Wan did despite the slight
twinge when clasping his arms around his knees pulled on the
tender new skin and scar tissue across his ribs.
"Decided you have, to move in with your new Master?"
"Yes, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan dropped his chin to the top of his
knees, trying to turn his defensive posture into something more
relaxed. Had anyone noticed, they might have thought such
positioning showed disrespect, but Master Yoda had known him
since he had been a boy in the crèche, and had insisted
that Obi-Wan respect him enough to react honestly in his
presence. Something no one else had ever asked of him before or
since.
Propriety led to conformity led to ease in teaching, to
abuse one of Master Yoda's favorite maxims.
No one, that is, until Qui-Gon Jinn.
Although he faced him, Obi-Wan found it hard to meet Master
Yoda's all too knowing eyes and he focused instead on the
amulet the elder Master had worn for as long as Obi-Wan could
remember. "I figured it wouldn't be any easier to make the
decide if I put it off for a few days. Or months. Qui-Gon has
offered to share his quarters, and I have no logical reason to
resist."
"Logical yes, but fear you do, nonetheless?"
Obi-Wan nodded, then gave a brittle smile. "It's not the
lessons, training or missions I am concerned about, Master
Yoda. I am looking forward to learning from him." A sigh. "It
is just all the times in between. Master a'Thuul never made the
common demands of a Padawan, nor have any of you," he said of
the Council, "so I dinna -- " Obi-Wan blushed to realize he had
let slip his accent. A clear indication of just how nervous he
really was.
"I mean, I have not --
"Fear you not just Padawan duties?" Master Yoda's only
acknowledgment of the verbal slip was a slight crinkling around
his eyes that might have been humor, or at least understanding.
"But those of friendship?" he prodded in gentle tones. "And
more?"
Again Obi-Wan nodded. "All of my social skills are from mission
interactions, simply facets of etiquette and small talk. Or
information briefings and debriefings." Of course, until now
Obi-Wan had never really found that to be a problem. It hadn't
been like he'd had much time between his missions and studies
to try and make or keep friends. But somehow he didn't think
Qui-Gon would be content to that being the sum of his Padawan's
life. Or of their life together.
And Obi-Wan was beginning to think he wouldn't be as content
either.
"Hobbies you have," Master Yoda said with a snort. "Interests
in things mechanical, skill in cooking and music. Overly
mechanical my former Padawan is not, but great pleasure he
takes in seeing how things work." He touched his gimer stick
above Obi-Wan's heart. "Cooking, music and growing things also
passions of Qui-Gon. So things to talk about you have, as well
as things to learn from and about each other. Come from this,
your friendship will." Master Yoda then tilted his head, his
ears flattening yet not drooping.
"Like Qui-Gon already you do?"
"Oh, yes," and Obi-Wan's voice trailed off as he thought again
of his meeting with the notorious, glorious Jedi Master. He
could hardly believe he had dared touch the other as he had.
That he had draped himself over Qui-Gon's body just like
several of the pleasure seekers Obi-Wan had observed
propositioning the Jedi Master upon his arrival tried to do.
Master Yoda tisked and tapped his stick a little harder to
bring Obi-Wan's attention back to the present. "Kissed the two
of you have?"
"And more," Obi-Wan said in a combination of sheepishness,
shyness and wonder.
But not too much more. Certainly not as much as they had been
moving toward during that trip back from Haven to Coruscant.
While it had been their intention and expectation to learn all
that they could from each other in the four days of travel
between the star systems, Obi-Wan's injuries and exhaustion had
left him more unconscious than awake for three of those four
days once he had finally given in to his body's need to rest.
He had then spent the fourth day taking care of all of those
things Qui-Gon had been managing because of his inability to
help, so that the Jedi Master could rest and begin to recover
from his own injuries and exertions.
Once on Coruscant, both had been whisked away by the Healers.
Fortunately Qui-Gon had not needed to stay for more than the
first day to see to his own recovery. Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon
had spent time visiting each day, even if he didn't really
remember anything about it other than relief in the other's
presence. But now that the circumstances surrounding their
first meeting had been dealt with, some of the urgency of their
being together had faded. Part of that, Obi-Wan knew, stemmed
from calm and serenity the very walls of the Temple exuded,
which buffered all excessive emotions. Part of the pulling
back, however, was also due from ingrained training, as both
reassessed that which had been so out of control during the
course of the mission.
Obi-Wan had been surprised to find that he wasn't sure he liked
being so much back in control.
"Enjoyed it you did, but like him too much, you fear?"
Obi-Wan tightened his hold around his knees. Oh, yes, he
repeated in his mind. Enjoyed it he had. But oh how he feared
liking Qui-Gon. Nor could he admit that he also feared
because he had enjoyed it.
"Expected this did you not, despite being told that one day it
would?" Master Yoda's smile was both gently mocking and full of
sympathetic understanding. But it faded into more of a frown
when Obi-Wan dropped his eyes instead of speaking.
"Never believed, have you? Never into your own future in this
you have looked?"
Obi-Wan slowly shook his head and kept his eyes on his feet
instead of Master Yoda's disappointed expression. He doubted
anyone other than Master Yoda could have heard the words that
he finally spoke.
"Before, I was t' afraid of what I might see, that I might be
right instead o' Master Healer Wekh," he paid no mind to the
return of his native accent. "O' even worse, that I might be
wrong. Now -- t' look now, well it isnae really fair to
know how things will likely be between Qui-Gon and me,
since he cannot. T', the future might change if I act
inopportunely because o' such a knowing."
Master Yoda let out a very small sigh.
And Obi-Wan burned in shame.
Despite the ancient Master's assurances and patient training,
Obi-Wan had never been able to see his prescience as a tool,
much less as a gift. And while it wasn't always the curse he
had first believed it to be, foreknowledge more often showed
him tragedies he could not change. Or portents he couldn't
understand. What he had taken to heart was Master Yoda's
further admonishment that the future was always in motion,
using that maxim as his shield when others expected him to
reach for the knowledge, despite that by doing so, he was
twisting Master Yoda's teachings to an interpretation suited
only for his own selfish needs.
Obi-Wan twisted and lay his cheek instead of his chin down on
his knees to look out the window. Yet the view gave him no
solace, for he couldn't escape his own thoughts even if he
hoped to escape Master Yoda's questioning.
"I had quite come to terms with my celibacy a couple of years
ago." Unmoving, Obi-Wan looked at nothing other than memories
within his mind's eye. "Oh, perhaps I hae a secret hope that I
might one day find love, but I truly expected t' be alone, t'
stay alone except for the measure of camaraderie that might
come in performing my calling and duties. An' I was okay with
that," he added quickly, lifting his head but fastening his
eyes on a point just above Master Yoda's head. "I had no
regrets, no sense that something necessary might be missing in
that vision o' the future."
Compassion and comfort radiated from Master Yoda. As did
ceaseless patience. Having finally admitted this much, Obi-Wan
knew he needed voice all of his fears.
"I figured that if I ever did choose intimacy, it would be with
a woman, an' someone younger. So that we might learn together
the proper way of things." He tried to clear his throat of the
dry tightness that clutched at words and breath. "I ne'er
expected to hae such feelings for another man. An' especially
nae for someone so ... dominant."
Master Yoda tucked his gimer stick up under his chin and leaned
against it, mimicking Obi-Wan's posture, though out of
fellowship, not derisiveness. "Even if my size he were,
masterful my former Padawan would still be," he agreed with a
slow smile. "Connected to the Living Force he has ever been. A
great awareness and confidence in self this has granted."
If it was only that. Qui-Gon's intimidating presence was only a
part of Obi-Wan's fear. A large part, yes, but more from what
the Master represented than what he was. And getting past
this fear would not be easily done.
"Have trust in his Master, a Padawan must, in those times it is
himself he cannot. Or if in the Force, he cannot trust."
Obi-Wan finally dropped his eyes to meet Master Yoda's. Of
course he had never hidden this lack within him from Master
Yoda, despite his intentions and hopes. But for once he could
also begin to hope that just perhaps, as Master Yoda had never
called him on it, did not censure him for it even now, the flaw
wasn't quite the failing he had supposed.
"Hard -- perhaps harder even than your formal trials -- doing
this will be," Master Yoda continued. "But even with this,
trusted Qui-Gon can be. And told he must be, if healed
ever you will be."
What the ancient Master didn't need to add was that if Obi-Wan
never healed from his past, he would never get a chance to take
his formal trials.
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion even as his lips
quirked into the beginnings of a grin of astonishment. Qui-Gon
had already expressed his own suspicions that they had been
thrown together by Master Yoda for some unknown purpose beyond
the likely successful completion of the mission that had just
ended. Obi-Wan's new Master had suspected their partnership had
been encouraged because his former Padawan had decided he did
not want any relationship with Qui-Gon, leaving Qui-Gon
heart-broken and in need of distraction. Obi-Wan had been
flattered that someone thought him capable of providing even a
temporary distraction for a heart-sick Master, even as he was
horrified to think that the Council was interested in both of
them enough to have so meddled.
But could there be even more contrivances afoot? Could Master
Yoda have suspected they would find each other more than just
an interesting diversion, that the two of them might form not
only the bond between Master and Padawan, but also the one
which was bringing Obi-Wan such anxiety that he had to
find way to resolve it? Suspected and, in fact, counted on it?
"In motion the future may be," Master Yoda offered sagely, "but
be guided to a specific path, someone can. Up to that someone
it is then, to take the next step."
Obi-Wan had to laugh if only to avoid crying at the caring this
machination represented. Not even his former Master had shown
him such caring. "You are an incorrigible, noisy and meddling
little troll, aren't you, Master Yoda?"
The green and wrinkled Master cackled wildly for a moment, then
sobered, though his eyes still stayed merry. "Become a great
Jedi you can, Obi-Wan," he intoned in earnest sternness. " An
asset to the Order." The sigh that followed was nearly as deep
as the one Obi-Wan had earlier suppressed. "And, fear do I, one
greatly needed," he added in a voice that echoed with images of
the future. "If a push be needed for this to happen, then a
push will I give."
Obi-Wan had never suspected such a future for himself, but he
also had to admit -- at least internally -- that he was
grateful that someone saw some purpose for him. He was also
more intrigued than fearful of the possibilities in Master
Yoda's voice. And was anxious to take that step toward destiny.
Qui-Gon overwhelmed him, yes, but also fascinated him, and not
just as a chance to finally come to terms with those things in
his past that were preventing him from becoming a Knight. It
would be interesting to have such a bond, of course. But it
also just might be enjoyable --
"Damn you to a Sith, Kenobi! There you are!"
Obi-Wan involuntarily jerked and hissed from the pain this
produced in his side when he turned to look around the portion
of wall Master Yoda sat in front of. There around the curve
that didn't quite completely conceal their couch, certainly not
his position on it, stood a tall, white-haired, and quite angry
Padawan.
"Half of us Padawan Healers are out looking for you instead of
attending to our duties!" the Padawan continued to rant as he
stomped toward the alcove. "Your sneaking out has disrupted us
all, and is making Master Healer Renchell wait for you, not to
mention the one you expect to become your own Master. If this
is how you show respect, no doubt someone like Qui-Gon will
change his mind and find someone more worthy."
Knowing that Bruck Chun wouldn't have been quite so free with
his criticism had he been able to see Master Yoda, Obi-Wan let
his flare of anger and the resultant guilt roll off of him,
even as Chun's expression grew darker when he didn't see the
expression of contrition he was expecting. Obi-Wan tried also
to suppress his grin and let go the thrill of anticipation over
the dressing down he was expecting Chun to receive from
Master Yoda. Obi-Wan and Chun had been adversarial even as
initiates, and the dislike hadn't faded when only Obi-Wan had
become the warrior in training that the both of them had
fervently desired to become.
"Show respect you do not, Padawan Healer Chun." Of
course, instead of anger, disappointment colored Master Yoda's
comments. The ancient Master leaned out from the corner and
twisted toward Chun, his ears beginning to droop. "Reprimand
another in someone else's place, you should not, nor
assumptions should you make lest they prove foolish and
unfounded."
The contrast between the growing red of Chun's face to his
stark white hair was impressive, as was his frozen look of
mortification. Obi-Wan almost had sympathy for his agemate and
long-time nemesis.
Almost.
"No sneaking out did Padawan Kenobi do. Leave his room, he did,
at my request. From you should permission have I asked?" With
his last words, the little Master twisted his head in a gesture
all who had met him knew and dreaded seeing. It was a gesture
that demanded an answer but still told you that none would be
sufficient.
Seeing that, and how Chun turned even redder, Obi-Wan had to
contain another smile. Still, not everything the Padawan Healer
had chided him for had been undeserved. It wasn't as if he was
confined to quarters as Chun had implied. Yet even in being
with Master Yoda, Obi-Wan should have let someone know that
they were visiting Master Billaba. Especially as he had known
that at some point later in this day, Master Healer Renchell
intended to release him into Qui-Gon's care.
He just hadn't expected things to happen quite so quickly.
"I apologize for pulling you from your duties, Padawan Healer
Chun," he offered in a fairly neutral tone before Chun needed
respond to Master Yoda. "If I can prevail upon you for a few
moments longer, would you also express my apologies to Masters
Renchell and Jinn, and let them know I will be returning after
saying good-bye to Master Yoda?"
With Master Yoda present, it wasn't quite so much a question or
request, since the other couldn't very well turn him down. But
even Chun deserved proper civility. To be purposely
discourteous would only serve to reinforce Chun's low opinion
of him while also reflecting poorly on Obi-Wan's own control in
Master Yoda's eyes.
"Of course, Padawan Kenobi."
Obi-Wan was neither surprised nor particularly insulted to see
Chun respond with a bow more to Master Yoda's confirming nod
than to Obi-Wan's request, before the other Padawan fled back
the direction he had come from in a bit more haste than might
seem proper.
"Like you, Padawan Healer Chun does not," Master Yoda observed
as he hopped down from their chaise. "Nor you him, I sense."
Instead of saying good-bye, the elder Master stayed walking
alongside, which gave Obi-Wan an excuse not to hurry back and,
thereby, tax the limits of his recovery. No one would yell at
Master Yoda, even if they were made to wait.
"No, we don't like each other," Obi-Wan responded. "When we
were initiates, Padawan Healer Chun was just as sure he would
become a warrior as he was that I would not. He seemed to think
that there was no way both of us could be chosen, and that the
loser would be shipped off to the Agri-Corps." Obi-Wan then
offered a wry grin and a shrug.
"I guess I thought the same. We competed against each other
constantly, much to our teachers' dismay. I'm still not sure
why we didn't get kicked out of the Temple; the competition
turned into actual fights more than once. During one of them,
an initiate was jostling his friends trying to watch, and
slipped, falling into the swimming pool he had just come out
of. He hit his head going in and would have drowned had not a
young Mon Calamarian jumped in after him. She got him quickly
to the surface and Chun gave him first aid as we waited for the
Healers. The initiate might have bled or choked to death
otherwise."
"And marked for testing by Healers both initiates Chun and Bant
then were," Master Yoda also remembered. "And learned did not
both you and Chun, I think, that affect more than yourself,
anger can?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "Guilt got us to stop fighting in public, and
being chosen as Padawan apprentices kept us apart long enough
for both of us to grow up a little. Unfortunately once I seemed
to need treatment in Healers Hall on a regular basis, someone
noted that Chun and I had previously been in classes together,
thinking I guess, that I would welcome a known face during my
recoveries. So he got stuck being Master Healer Dexun's
assistant and one of my primary caretakers."
"Shown talent in healing and duty, he must have, to be picked.
But not the dedication?"
As much as Obi-Wan did not like Bruck Chun, he could no more
speak falsely of another Jedi than he could purposely lie to
Master Yoda. "He has talent and dedication, both, Master Yoda.
I am sure Padawan Healer Chun will become Healer Chun long
before I become Knight Kenobi." He then shook his head.
"But no matter his truer calling, in his youth Bruck Chun
wanted to be a warrior. I think he can't help but feel I am not
proving as dedicated to my duty as he has been to his own,
given how many times I end up in his care." Obi-Wan gave a
little laugh. "Not to mention that being steadily thrown up on
for more than a week when I had the Nilvien virus, would
probably color anyone's opinion of me, even if I wasn't already
disliked."
"During this flu your age was?" This question came with a
twitch of one of Master Yoda's ears.
"Thirteen," Obi-Wan laughed again. He supposed he should have
shown some remorse; obviously Master Yoda had figured out that
he had not been quite as helpless in caring for himself back
then as he might have led Master Healer Dexun and Padawan
Healer Chun to believe.
"Meddling and noisy I may be, but shameless and unrepentant you
are, young Kenobi," Master Yoda also laughed. "Good for Qui-Gon
that will be. A troll and an imp. Good for Qui-Gon we both have
and will prove being."
********
Qui-Gon wasn't sure why he had let Mace convince him not to go
prowling through the corridors of the Healers Hall to look for
his missing Padawan. Waiting in good grace for others to handle
the task was really more than he could comfortably handle. His
pacing and muttering had already sent the Cynthian Healer from
the room, though she had insisted that his disruptive presence
was not the reason she needed to leave.
Nor was his temper being helped by the expression of fond
amusement still plastered over Mace's face.
As he saw it, stomping around in frustration and acting like a
animal with a thorn caught in his paw was probably better than
continuing to brood about whether he should have chosen Obi-Wan
as either Padawan or hopeful lover. This level of frustration
in not finding Obi-Wan as expected had to mean their
relationship had already progressed beyond the point for him to
begin having doubts; if he didn't care, he wouldn't be upset
the younger man was missing.
"Qui-Gon, you should --"
The door into Obi-Wan's room opened in on them and Qui-Gon
turned instantly, keeping silent only because he didn't need to
scare yet another Padawan Healer who might be looking for
Master Healer Renchell. The speechlessness continued when
Qui-Gon found that it was Obi-Wan returning instead. He didn't
know whether to yell at his new Padawan for this latest bit of
unexpected independence, or to gather him up in his arms in
relief and kiss him senseless.
Instead of doing either, he simply stared.
When he had first seen Obi-Wan, the young Jedi had been adorned
in leathers and silk, an artful disguise while trying to find
runaway offspring of the Supreme Chancellor's sister. Qui-Gon
had been entranced, unable to deny being attracted to the
other's masculine beauty and supple movements. It had taken
mere minutes in Obi-Wan's presence for Qui-Gon to decide the
other Jedi had more to offer than just a lust-inspiring outer
shell. And to begin to hope that something long term could
develop between them, though he had never before believed in
something as unrealistic as love at first sight.
Love at first sight, and second, and one hundred.
Each time Qui-Gon saw him it was like meeting anew. This time
was seeing for the first time, an Obi-Wan relatively healed and
healthy, wearing no bandages, and showing only fading scars and
faint bruises. Gone were the silver accents and crystal beads
that had altered the focus of Obi-Wan's Padawan braid. Also
missing was the intermediate length of naturally ginger-colored
hair that had been a Padawan cut grown out unattended for being
too long in the field. The Obi-Wan that stopped before Qui-Gon
now wore the inch-short spikes of hair on top, along with
neatly trimmed back and sides. His braid hung down his chest
and re-tied with the traditional bands denoting milestones and
skill levels. With the bottom-most tie missing, the one to be
placed by a Padawan's Master.
While Qui-Gon had found extreme pleasure in Obi-Wan's looks
from the very first, seeing him actually looking every inch the
Jedi he was and not just physically, but with a Jedi's
confidence and serenity too, led something within Qui-Gon to
melt and reform. In that instant the Force fairly sang around
and through their bond, and Qui-Gon could fancy that even a
non-Force sensitive could have seen the connection between
them.
The only visible reminder of the Obi-Wan Qui-Gon had first met
was a twinkling green earring that matched exactly the color of
Qui-Gon's own light saber, that sometimes matched the color of
Obi-Wan's eyes, and the emotion that lit those ever-changing
sea-colored eyes. Part doubt and vulnerability, part heated
desire and all shy delight in seeing Qui-Gon.
Given this opportunity to see the other half of his soul
as a Jedi instead of just knowing, Qui-Gon filled his gaze. And
fell in love all over again.
How long they stood there, not touching, just looking into each
other's hearts and souls, Qui-Gon didn't know. And cared about
even less. His world -- his entire universe -- and all of his
future lay in the warmth of those changeable eyes and the depth
of that quicksilver mind.
It was Mace who pointedly reminded them that there were other
things that existed beyond each other. Like Qui-Gon's former
Master, who tapped his gimer stick on the floor unnoticed while
standing right next to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon blushed and offered an
apology that Master Yoda quickly waived away. Obi-Wan murmured
his own apologies, then greeting to Mace, who decided the best
response he could give was a good-bye. A sentiment Qui-Gon
quickly copied even as he gave Mace a look of chagrin and
gratitude before the door closed behind the dark-skinned man
and Master Yoda. Leaving him alone with Obi-Wan and the faint
echo of indulgent laughter.
Qui-Gon took the final step forward to close the distance
between them, then folded Obi-Wan into a careful hug. He
dropped a light kiss on the forehead that came up barely past
his chin and couldn't stop his fingers from tracing over the
clothing that covered every place the Healers had removed
bandages, every place his Padawan had needed to be bandaged
after they had fled from Haven. As if Obi-Wan could not be
quite healed until it was his hands and energy that touched his
Padawan.
"Let me take you home, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan nodded and let go to move back to a position several
steps behind and to Qui-Gon's right. A Padawan's placement,
maintained as he followed Qui-Gon out of the room. Qui-Gon was
pleased and honored, but he quickly shook his head and gestured
for Obi-Wan to walk at his side. So he could tuck his arm
around his Padawan's waist. Although he knew Obi-Wan had been
cleared for active duty again -- save for the demand Qui-Gon
had made of the Council that they would get their
downtime no matter how grave an emergency -- to any Master
being told their Padawan had healed wasn't as reassuring as
touching, seeing and sensing for himself. Overly familiar,
perhaps, definitely hovering, but Obi-Wan seemed willing, if
just a little shy, to put up with him.
"Is this how you greet all of your new apprentices, Master?"
Obi-Wan had tilted his head sideways and up, but fortunately
for Qui-Gon's reputation of mastery and serenity, his Padawan
couldn't really see enough of his face to read his Master's
foolish expression. Neither of them had yet to let go their
shielding to allow the reopening of the bonds they had formed
on Haven, though now that they were moving out of Healers Hall
there would be little interference from outside sources. And
although Qui-Gon was eager to sample Obi-Wan's emotions and
thoughts, he wasn't quite sure that doing so before they were
within the privacy of their quarters would be a blessing or a
challenge.
It seemed all of his doubts about being with Obi-Wan couldn't
stand up to actually being with Obi-Wan.
So Qui-Gon simply dropped his outer shields, laughed and hugged
Obi-Wan tighter. He ignored the shocked look on another passing
Jedi's face in hearing his laughter. Obviously he had been too
long on Telos, and the reputation of being a staid and reserved
Master had come to overshadow his reputation of openness and
good cheer, along with the occasional practical joke during his
knighthood. Well, that would quickly enough be restored.
Hopefully with the help of the one at his side.
"I've only ever had two before you," he answered, "but yes, I
believe I gave both of them a hug when our pairings were
blessed by the Council."
As Obi-Wan also let go of his outer shields, Qui-Gon could
sense his Padawan was not so concerned about what their link
might ... inspire between the two of them. Instead, Obi-Wan was
thinking their continued physical closeness to be unusual and
unexpected, but not exactly unpleasant. Or unwanted.
Affectionate touching was one thing his Padawan had gotten
little of from his former Master. Between them touch had been a
training tool, to be used as correction, punishment, or only
when necessary to maintain a cover or disguise, much as Obi-Wan
had used his own body in their first meeting on Haven.
A memory Qui-Gon hoped to replace with one better.
They spoke little and shared thoughts primarily of comfort and
pleasure instead of conversation during the trip to Qui-Gon's
-- now their -- quarters, simply content to be together. After
changing the coding to accept Obi-Wan's access and with the
door closing behind them, Qui-Gon moved again to hug, front
pressed to front, holding tightly and with no words needed.
When Obi-Wan moved to pull away, Qui-Gon let him do so with
reluctance. But Obi-Wan was just leaning back, content to stay
within Qui-Gon's arms, which the Jedi Master tightened
automatically to steady him.
"Obi-Wan?" he asked softly, not sure whether he should use
their link to try and understand the look on his Padawan's face
or the tentative touch of Obi-Wan's fingers against his cheeks
and bearded chin.
"I want -- I need to know this is real, Master. That you are
real." Whether he had sensed Qui-Gon's question or not, Obi-Wan
then pushed their link back open, as he could not properly
articulate what he was feeling.
To his surprise, Qui-Gon found shame foremost in his Padawan's
thoughts. Not so much from admitting this need, but from
needing the reassurance in the first place; his Obi-Wan hadn't
been this uncertain of himself and of his place within the Jedi
since he had turned eleven and had not yet been chosen as a
Padawan.
It seemed that as Obi-Wan had floated in the bacta tank for two
days, he had also nearly convinced himself that the closeness
he and Qui-Gon had felt during their mission together had been
born out of something like compassion, pity or expediency. In
Obi-Wan's thoughts, Qui-Gon even found a little fear that there
had been a conscious or unconscious manipulation on Qui-Gon's
part to ensure Obi-Wan kept to the mission, that the bonds the
Force had forged between them would be gone once they came
home. That the bonds had happened only for completing the
mission successfully.
Even the emotions that had lit Qui-Gon's eyes in Healers Hall
were being doubted, despite the flow of love and oneness they
had then experienced in the corridors of the Temple. Obi-Wan
worried that he had misinterpreted Qui-Gon's feelings, that
they had been expressed more for the benefit of Masters Yoda
and Windu, so that the Councilors might be contented that no
mistake had been made in announcing their pairing. That all of
Qui-Gon's offering had been evidence of duty and obligation.
So similar to Qui-Gon's doubts. To his own insecurities. Yet
because Obi-Wan also doubted, Qui-Gon could lay his own to
rest. Then, sensing Obi-Wan's acceptance of that being all
there was between then, the discovery that his Padawan would be
content in a closeness born in necessity and obligation as it
was better than continued loneliness, Qui-Gon had to try and
lay them to rest in Obi-Wan, too.
"Oh no, my Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan back into a
crushing embrace, yet ever mindful of his Padawan's recovering
injuries. "Never obligation, my love. The bond was, is and will
forever be an expression of the love between us."
He drew them both over to the couch that dominated this first
room, lifting Obi-Wan to straddle his lap as he then set them
both down. He wanted Obi-Wan to be able to see, feel and
still be held. To be kissed not just with the chasteness of
familiarity and comfort, but with every bit of the passion the
other feared to have previously been only danger-inspired.
Obi-Wan began to falter under the combined onslaught of
Qui-Gon's touches and emotions, the doubts that shadowed his
precious soul being swept asunder as the bonds formed by love
and Force fully re-opened then engulfed them.
For long moments they sat there overwhelmed by the sheer
rightness of their coming together. Entwined awareness
acknowledged shared fire and passion, though for a moment a
shadow passed through and muted their joining. Though loathed
to pull back in any manner, Qui-Gon was ever vigilant to how
overwhelming this was, even as he had been expecting it. And in
careful examination, it was too easy to find his own desires
swamping Obi-Wan's, that despite his Padawan's outward show of
independence, before him was still a young man unconsciously
seeking approval.
Guilt shot through their communion -- Qui-Gon's, then Obi-Wan's
misery at being the cause of any guilt threatened to pull them
apart. For an moment Qui-Gon wavered, yet couldn't let
completely go. Words, even unintentionally, could be
misinterpreted or misspoke. Not so their thoughts and emotions
through the bond.
Qui-Gon was not afraid to show Obi-Wan his flaws and fears. Or
to know that Obi-Wan might have fears of his own about loosing
himself to Qui-Gon's presence. In the physical world they might
be Master and Padawan, be forty-two and twenty-one, but here in
their minds, and in the Force, they were simply Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan. Two souls, with one being no less precious than the
other. Here they were equals who were on their way to merging
to become one soul housed in two bodies.
All shadows fled in the face of the new light they were
weaving.
And their bodies began to discover truths of their own. Once
Obi-Wan started to return Qui-Gon's kisses, physical need
overrode the peace of their communion. Separating minds
returned to bodies to meet the demands of a different oneness
that skittered across them like a breeze brushing against the
outer edges of their skin.
Qui-Gon strove to regain at least a modicum of control but
Obi-Wan began to change from being pliant to being demanding,
from being possessed to possessing. Heated and skilled fingers
dove beneath the layers of Qui-Gon's tunics to give a touch
that might melt, but never burn. Removing their clothing was
taking too long, would mean they would have to let go of each
other, if only for a heartbeat. But, of course, some clothing
would have to be removed, to be at least loosened. And even
Jedi needed to eventually breathe.
Given that he was on the outside, was the one who could move
beyond being driven deeper into the couch, Obi-Wan broke away
from his plundering of Qui-Gon's mouth. He drew back but still
touched, still looked, and shivers rolled over Qui-Gon's skin
from the attention. The Jedi Master half expected Obi-Wan would
slow, then wondered if he should try to exert a little more
control over them both when his Padawan showed no signs of an
awareness other than this need racing between them. He tried,
but only until his attempt to caution produced a moan of
complaint. Only until Obi-Wan's hands produced from Qui-Gon a
moan of desire that chased away all thoughts of control. Or
danger.
He lifted them both up from the couch while tactually reminding
Obi-Wan that the Force could be used for fine manipulation as
well as expansive gestures. Obi-Wan tightened their embrace
when Qui-Gon augmented his deftly directed Force tendrils to
lift and tug at belts and the fastenings of leggings, when he
planted his Padawan with kisses, licks and nips along the
offered neck and chest. Pants and briefs were pushed down and
off on them both, then Qui-Gon gently lowered them back down to
a seated position. He spread his legs, forcing Obi-Wan's own
thighs to widen and brought their erections together.
Qui-Gon didn't try to contain his deep groan at that contact.
Eyes half lidding closed, he dropped his head back against the
edge of the couch. Obi-Wan quickly took advantage of the skin
now presented, leaving his own marks before brushing his chin
against Qui-Gon's beard and mouthing his way back up to
Qui-Gon's lips. Obi-Wan didn't close his own eyes, and the near
indigo look within compelled Qui-Gon to open his own more
fully.
Suddenly Qui-Gon could see a ghosting of memory within, a gray
fear there amidst the indigo of passion. At once he began to
pull away, to close his legs as shame and guilt washed through
him. Washed through them both. They hadn't exchanged more than
a handful of sentences in their return to Coruscant, had barely
spoken about the future even aboard ship. And now, after just
coming from Healers Hall and instead of taking the time to ease
the changes in both their lives as was a Master's
responsibility, he was about to make love to his new Padawan?!
It was wrong, and he shouldn't, and --
*You promised no Master, no Padawan here,* Obi-Wan's frantic
thoughts cut through his doubts. *We need -- I need this. Now!*
The frenzy was unnatural, was almost as if Obi-Wan was daring
himself to see this through. Qui-Gon knew it was still wrong,
but that knowledge was not stopping his own body's reactions,
nor slowing the imperative of the bond that they continue. He
consoled himself that Obi-Wan's need was just as overpowering
as he reached spectral fingers of the Force into the bag he had
carried from the training salle and removed a bottle of massage
oil he'd been needing for his leg.
As soon as the small bottle was close enough for Obi-Wan to
grab, his Padawan did so, and practically tore the cap off in
his haste to cover his hands with its contents. Qui-Gon reached
out to slow him, to slow them both, then all but stopped
breathing when he felt Obi-Wan's slicked hands wrapping
themselves around his cock. Qui-Gon widened his eyes and mouth
in surprise and Obi-Wan took the opportunity to lean forward
and thrust his tongue into that mouth. Then, before the Jedi
Master could stop him or protest, his Padawan lifted himself up
only with a flex of his legs and quickly positioned Qui-Gon's
erection underneath him, then dropped back down.
Pain burned through the link, but was quickly subsumed by the
rush of the bond's completion. And by thoughts from Obi-Wan of
what he wanted Qui-Gon to do to him. Despite the concerns all
of this brought up, Qui-Gon couldn't deny Obi-Wan what he was
asking for. Begging for. The kiss and beginning undulations,
the obvious need and willingness despite a cacophony of fear,
all served to wring a groan from Qui-Gon, half in protest, half
in passion and to shatter anymore thoughts of control or even
restraint.
He dug his hands under to cup at Obi-Wan's ass and lifted. At
the same time Obi-Wan brought his own hands up to Qui-Gon's
shoulders for better leverage and gripped them tightly. With
another flex of his knees and thighs, his shins pressing down
against the couch's cushions and tighter against Qui-Gon's
legs, Obi-Wan let his body drop quickly again, then lifted
himself back up ever so slowly, finally breaking their kiss and
letting his head falling back.
At least there was no flicker of pain in those taut features.
Though Qui-Gon wanted to be in control, he knew Obi-Wan's need
to direct this came from something other than pure lust, and so
he let Obi-Wan repeat the moves again, and again, then once
more until only the head of Qui-Gon's cock remained within.
Obi-Wan held them both in exquisitely painful abeyance before
leaning over again for another kiss.
Qui-Gon sucked Obi-Wan's tongue deeper toward his throat, for
the first time drawing out any noise from the younger man as
this produced a moan. A moan which turned into a swallowed
scream when Qui-Gon slipped one of his hands from beneath
Obi-Wan to glove his Padawan's erection. Before either of them
could draw in another breath, Qui-Gon lifted them both, then
shifted to push Obi-Wan back down onto the couch. This brought
their bodies together along their full lengths. Contact between
them had not been broken in the changing of positions, they
still stayed sealed between tongue and mouth, between cock and
ass, and cock and hand, between mind and mind and souls.
As both could now move their hips, release came for both
quickly. Although he wanted nothing more than to lie there,
sheathed forever, Qui-Gon lifted up to remove most of his
weight off of Obi-Wan and onto his extended arms. Obi-Wan's
eyes were tightly closed, but as Qui-Gon just stayed there
motionless, staring, the eyes opened. Too stark, with misery
and surprise chasing each other across the sea-changeable
depths before Obi-Wan turned his head and let them close again.
Guilt again assailed Qui-Gon. Although Obi-Wan had directed
this encounter, Qui-Gon had little sense of pleasure being
derived, and less of pleasure even having been anticipated.
Obi-Wan's emotions had been more like obligation -- not, not
that exactly, but something similar enough. Resigned
anticipation, a task, much like needing to learn a new kata,
yet like such a lesson, also a pride and almost eagerness to
begin.
"Obi-Wan?" While Qui-Gon would have preferred to stay and ask
his questions in their link, to remain mentally connection
right now was too much even for him. Perhaps there were a few
truths he wasn't quite ready to hear.
Yet Obi-Wan's first reaction was a soft moan of something like
pain when Qui-Gon pulled back from the bond. Too, he only
clutched the Jedi Master closer as Qui-Gon shifted to let his
softening penis slipped out. Qui-Gon brought up his hand to rub
against Obi-Wan's cheek and the damp spikes and tendrils of
hair across the back of his head and neck.
Still his Padawan kept his eyes closed, as if he could not bear
for Qui-Gon to see the emotions so starkly presented within
their smoky depths. "I didn't do this because of you," came the
near whisper and a slight trembling. But then Obi-Wan flushed.
"Well, of course I did," he corrected quickly. This time when
he met Qui-Gon's gaze, the misery was heightened by his
embarrassment and shame.
"I wouldn't have done this with any other," he tried to
reassure. "And it wasn't because you are my Master, or because
I thought I had to." A genuine smile tugged at his lips, a
ghost of the other's odd humor that Qui-Gon had learned to
delight in and dread at the same time, while they were on
Haven.
"If such lessons were to be taught to me by a Master like many
of my others, I had always counted on it being Master Gallia."
The shamelessness of the comment surprised a laugh out of
Qui-Gon, enough to help him let go of a bit of the stress of
the situation as, no doubt, it had been intended. But there
were still too many shadows between them, surrounding Obi-Wan,
to just let things go without arriving at an understanding.
"You did this to face your fear," and Qui-Gon had to pause to
swallow heavily. "Of me."
The truth was there to read in the Obi-Wan's eyes, but like
before, Qui-Gon could also sense an acceptance in those
darkened depths, for both the fear and the act. Acceptance and
accomplishment, with regrets not for having faced his fear,
only for how doing so without sharing it had hurt Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon lowered himself to tenderly kiss Obi-Wan, then
carefully rolled them both over so he could tug Obi-Wan upward
and cradled him on top of his chest. "You need never fear me,
Obi-Wan. Not as your Master, friend or a lover. I hope ... know
that I will never judge you. I want to be here for you as both
Master and man, and you can tell or ask me anything."
While Obi-Wan had held himself rigid when they had first
settled in this position, as Qui-Gon soothed with both words
and touches, the Master could feel his Padawan slowly start to
relax and work to sort through his feelings. His emotions --
their emotions -- would need further evaluation before they
could be dismissed, but already an equilibrium was being
reestablished between them. And with their bond.
"I love that you are strong and independent. But you don't ever
have to be alone, my love." And Qui-Gon gently encouraged the
sundering of awareness Obi-Wan's release and heightened
emotions wanted, helping the young man slip into a few minutes
of restorative sleep. For himself Qui-Gon simply continued to
hold and pet, letting his own thoughts drift toward a
meditative state while he waited, his patience infinite, his
body, mind and soul content to trust in their future.
*********
Such a small thing, the coming together of two people. For
there are billions of billions of people, and sentience and
life leads to procreation. Love. Loss. Happiness and sorrow.
Death. Yet within the Force, everyone, everything, is connected
and unique. And so the actions of one -- or two -- create
ripples that forge a new future. Adepts look for these ripples,
can sometimes read them. And know.
Down below even the lower levels of the corrupt and decaying
city/world of Coruscant there is a room that never sees light
from without, that sees precious little light even from within.
Not a home, for the two who sometimes moved therein called no
one place home in their quest to make every place theirs. Twin
shadows of darkness, born in rituals older than the Republic,
separated currently by distance but never intent, the two lift
their heads simultaneously as the ripples within the Force
reach them and echo each other's words.
"It has begun."
And in a room almost entirely comprised of windows and light, a
room rising still higher above and overlooking all the other
towering buildings that crown a shining and vibrant Coruscant,
not like a lord overseeing his dominion but more the shepherd
forever watching and protecting his flock, two others who
cherish and nurture their own connection which resonated with
memory of like connections since the beginning of existence,
also see and feel the changes in the currents of the Force.
"And now they both begin to heal."
Chapter Two
When it became obvious that moving would not awaken Obi-Wan,
Qui-Gon carried his Padawan into the larger of the two bedrooms
he sincerely hoped they would eventually share. He had not
presumed that Obi-Wan would not want a private room -- and bed
-- of his own even before their ... confusing coming together,
and now would insist. At least in the beginning. Yet he
couldn't leave Obi-Wan to wake up alone after what had just
happened, and so had laid down next to Obi-Wan, tucking his
Padawan's back in against his chest and wrapping a protective
arm over the other before failing asleep himself.
A couple of hours passed, and Qui-Gon found himself awakened as
Obi-Wan's body began to touch against his in movements other
than simple breathing. During the time they had slept, Obi-Wan
had turned in Qui-Gon's embrace so that they were now facing
each other. The thrusts were so gentle that at first Qui-Gon
figured Obi-Wan to just be moving in his sleep, his body simply
reacting to the closeness of another's. But when he opened his
eyes, he found Obi-Wan's also open, gazing upon him with little
trace of the discomfort they had held earlier. Upon noticing
Qui-Gon's awake, and his Master's own growing arousal, Obi-Wan
lifted his head up to give Qui-Gon a kiss, even as he directed
his hips with a little more force.
There was a sweetness to both the kiss and the movement that
eased into Qui-Gon and let him slide into his own enjoyment of
the moment. Gone was the frantic demands from their bond, along
with any sense of misplaced need on either of their parts.
Tender, slow, even though they did nothing but rock together,
this was the type of communion he had hoped for their first
coupling. No struggle to assert independence or domination, no
worries about expectations, obligations or making things
perfect. Just mutual comfort and pleasure, mutual release, and
mutual love. Along with enough kisses that both of them had
swollen lips by the time they simply lay in each other's arms
in completion.
Finally Qui-Gon shifted and pulled away, but just enough to
slide the tunics off of Obi-Wan so that he could, in the quiet
aftermath, take the time to explore with his eyes what he had
earlier begun to explore with fingers and tongue. He propped
his head up on his hand so he could overlook all of the lightly
tanned, remarkably pliant and beautifully wondrous body.
"You're not sleepy, Qui-Gon?"
He turned back from his cataloguing of the tautly muscled
planes of Obi-Wan's chest and stomach to meet eyes that showed
to be a darker blue than his own at the moment, and which held
little trace of sleepiness themselves. Just as he would have
answered, Obi-Wan slid his hand between them, finding a
particularly sensitive spot and causing Qui-Gon to catch his
breath.
"No, this doesn't feel sleepy," his Padawan teased, swirling a
finger around Qui-Gon's navel. He pushed gently for Qui-Gon to
lay on his back and continued his touching. "Neither does
this," as fingers flitted further across Qui-Gon's stomach,
causing the muscles to ripple and spasm. "And these certainly
don't," with both hands now flicking lightly across tightening
nipples.
Qui-Gon grabbed up one of the wanton hands and began licking
each finger thoroughly. "I assure you that anything you start,
I will finish, Obi-Wan," he growled, his own
ministrations now serving to distract and produce interesting
reactions.
He knew his expression had become as predatory as his tone, and
thrilled to see Obi-Wan's changeable eyes darken even more. To
hear and feel Obi-Wan's breathing quicken. While he might have
left twenty-one behind, oh, twenty-one and a couple of years
ago, in having Obi-Wan before him, with him, in body and mind,
Qui-Gon could easily recaptured the stamina of his youth. And
was more than happy to take advantage of his greater years of
experience.
"Oh, but my body is nowhere near as magnificent and well-formed
as yours, Master," Obi-Wan said, trying not to squirm when
Qui-Gon found a spot more ticklish than sensitive. "And mine
has far too many scars."
In an instant, Qui-Gon slipped from predator to worshipper.
"Every one of those scars is a testament to your dedication as
a Jedi, my Obi-Wan," he said in full reverence, rolling Obi-Wan
until his Padawan lay underneath his own body. "How could I not
find them desirable?"
And Qui-Gon began mapping each one of the scars with his
tongue, starting with the one that bisected the cleft in
Obi-Wan's chin, then moving down to that across Obi-Wan's neck,
only newly healed from the mission before the one that had
brought them together. He moved next to the puncture wounds on
Obi-Wan's arm that had been explained as a badge of honor for
his former Master.
At the still tender knife-wound just below Obi-Wan's ribs,
Qui-Gon lavished special attention, for it had been his own
hand that had wielded the lightsaber to cauterize the jagged
edges. Obi-Wan's breaths grew even shallower, and he began to
roll over onto his stomach almost before Qui-Gon could so
direct him. Across one hip Qui-Gon found skin hardened and
puckered from a not quite disbursed blaster wound, while across
his back lay several thin lines of cuts and other injuries all
too common in an active Jedi's life.
Moving lower, Qui-Gon had to stop when he got to the back of
Obi-Wan's left knee. Here he found a set of scars that had to
come from multiple surgeries. Which meant initial treatment had
to have happened without access to the healing properties of
bacta. Somewhere out on the Outer Rim perhaps. Or even Beyond,
into space far outside Republic laws and technology, space
where Jedi rarely traveled as there were already thousands of
planets within the Republic needing their talents. Any place
closer and Obi-Wan would have been sent home to Coruscant in
time to be healed without the surgeries or scarring, even if
the mission had been on a planet that proscribed life-saving
technologies.
While Qui-Gon had his own set of scars, including those from
more than one blaster wound, and several of them had been
gained on a few of the Outer Rim planets himself, he also had
twice the years on Obi-Wan to have so earned them. It was
almost criminal to see so many on one so young. So precious.
Obi-Wan had twisted his upper body partially back around as
Qui-Gon reverently tasted the back of that knee and Qui-Gon
looked up to see an openness, even as shadows began to deepen
Obi-Wan's graying eyes. "Go ahead and ask, Qui-Gon."
He first pressed another kiss there, then climbed back up and
rolled Obi-Wan over to his side so he could gather the smaller
frame back up in his arms. The trembling was now more
pronounced and, Qui-Gon was beginning to suspect, had not
enough to do with arousal. "Are you sure?"
Obi-Wan gave a strangled laugh. "I almost denied myself this
form of happiness by holding tight to my secrets and fears. I
will have no more secrets from you." Although his eyes were
still troubled, the smile he then offered was less forced,
though fairly deprecating.
"Besides, as my Master, you need to know my weaknesses before
they affect a mission or ... our relationship."
Qui-Gon raised his hands up to cradle Obi-Wan's face. "I had my
own doubts that this could be real, but you do not need to
prove yourself to me, my love. And you need not offer
everything at once." He smiled when Obi-Wan twisted and pressed
a gentle bite, then a kiss to his palm.
"We have all of our lives to learn about each other."
Obi-Wan sighed. "You already have many questions and
misconceptions about Master a'Thuul, Qui-Gon. And have assumed
guilt over things you had no control over, or reason for
involvement with." He lowered his eyes for a moment and his
voice dropped softer. "Just know that when you ask your
questions, you may not hear the answers you want."
Qui-Gon held his own sigh. So it was just as Mace had tried to
warn him. As he had unsuccessfully hid his feelings about
a'Thuul, so to, apparently had he been unsuccessful in hiding
his need to know the reasons behind Mace's hesitations and
Obi-Wan's shadows. The shadows meant pain, however. And Qui-Gon
never again wanted to be the cause of Obi-Wan's pain.
Qui-Gon took in a deep breath and brushed his fingers across
Obi-Wan's exposed cheek. "Why did you never go to the Council
and request a new Master, Obi-Wan? I know I said I do not find
the scars repulsive, and I don't, but I cannot help but
empathize with what you have gone through to get them. For any
Master to allow such to happen to their Padawan --"
Obi-Wan gave a quick shake of his head, then pressed another
kiss, this time to Qui-Gon's fingertips. "Master a'Thuul was
not reckless or abusive with my training or my health. Yes, I
did get hurt a few times during those first years, but that was
my fault, not his."
"Ninety-eight days out of the first four years is not a 'few
times', Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon desperately tried to keep the censure
and anger from his tone; even if Obi-Wan's supposed flaws were
other than just being a young boy. Qui-Gon could never blame
such results on anyone other than the Master who hadn't taken
them into account. "If you weren't ready for fieldwork, a'Thuul
should never have accepted the missions."
"I might not have always been ready, but it was always
necessary to take the missions, Qui-Gon. Certainly I might have
wished for more time to train here on Coruscant, for less
danger and less pain. In each case, Jedi were needed. Master
a'Thuul and I were needed. So too was the experiences I endured
needed, if not for my own growth then for the lives of those we
helped." Obi-Wan's expression opened with his need for Qui-Gon
to understand, even as his eyes grew hooded by memory.
"Even from those we couldn't save, there were lessons learned.
In most cases, we were successful overall, mitigating the
damage and loss of life in those who needed us. And we -- I
survived," he added with a compelling fierceness. "I cannot
truly say the outcomes might have been the same had no -- or
different -- Jedi been sent."
Qui-Gon willed away the frown that tightened his face and drew
down his brows. "Still, I cannot believe the Healers didn't at
least insist on longer instances of recovery."
"They did. So did Master a'Thuul. And I tried." Obi-Wan
shrugged. "Despite what you may have read in any of my
evaluations, I do not enjoy pain. I just have a better than
average capacity to endure it. Which is not a talent I was or
am eager to exploit," he added with a ghost of a smile.
"But something always came up; the Republic now is quite
different than the one you inadvertently got closed off from in
your near-exile on Telos. I don't know about how it was before
then, or how it will be in the future with you, but if Master
a'Thuul and I were capable of doing our job when we were
needed, we couldn't just say, hey, I'm on break, ask me about
it later."
The smile became a sudden grin. "Weren't you on mandated
downtime when we first met, Master?"
"It is not particularly smart to exploit being wiser than your
Master, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said in mock warning, letting himself
be partially distracted away from his charges of impropriety
against a'Thuul.
Obi-Wan just gave a quick, light laugh and leaned forward to
grab a kiss. "I shall remember that, Qui-Gon. Just as soon as I
find one that I am wiser than."
Said as a compliment and not a tease, as Obi-Wan's respect had
been obvious from the first moment they had met. Qui-Gon
responded by clutching Obi-Wan back to his chest and stealing a
much deeper kiss than the one Obi-Wan had taken. Sorely tempted
to roll him over, either below or above his body, this was not
quite the moment to abandon his further questions. The timing
and offer for information might not coincide again for days.
Although Obi-Wan evidenced a willingness to indulge the
questions despite the obvious pain of his memories, Qui-Gon was
certain he had also been trying to change the subject matter,
albeit unconsciously. But as they had both already fallen prey
to doubts about their bonding, then their first coupling,
doubts born from a lack of communication, Qui-Gon did not want
to encourage the possibility of further distress or discord
born from ignorance. Even though their union seemed
Force-blessed and was something they both wanted, he wouldn't
encourage new confusions, fears or doubts being raised when all
that might be needed to stave them off would be a question or
two. And a few answers.
"So a'Thuul never --"
"Maybe you should read Master a'Thuul's file before you
completely vilify him." Obi-Wan dropped his gaze from Qui-Gon
and rolled onto his back in a telling move of his own
discomfort and growing anger. But he then clutched at Qui-Gon
hand lest he offend too much. "You might also want to talk to a
few of his peers," came another, more neutral suggestion.
"I know things might have happened to me much differently if I
had been chosen by another, but I have no regrets, Qui-Gon," he
added more softly. "He was a fine Master and a good man. Well,
male Trandoshan," Obi-Wan corrected with a hitched laugh. "I
actually think you would have liked each other."
Obviously the reluctance to talk was winning out over the
willingness; that last statement being offered as another
distraction. Too, Qui-Gon could feel a growing tenseness in the
hand that held his. The tension and reluctance was not just
about their difference in opinion on a'Thuul or a fear that the
discussion might lead to an actual argument. There was
obviously something else Obi-Wan did not want to talk about.
And, therefore, something Obi-Wan needed to talk about
regardless.
Or something Qui-Gon needed to know.
With a little remorse, Qui-Gon used their link to push beyond
Obi-Wan's surface thoughts, and breathed an internal sigh of
relief when he could read that Obi-Wan was still not
consciously attempting to influence Qui-Gon's attention away.
Yes, his questions about a'Thuul was the connection, but was
also merely a smoke-screen over the source of Obi-Wan's fears.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath and let it slowly out. While he
might never agree with how a'Thuul had raised Obi-Wan, he found
few flaws in the end product. And he owed something to the dead
Master, since the wild events that had happened were probably
the only way he and Obi-Wan would have ever met and gotten
together.
"Tell me how you got the scars on your knee, Obi-Wan."
For a moment Qui-Gon feared he had been too direct. As the
seconds ticked on, he found himself wanting to apologize and
needed to bite his tongue to stop. He couldn't. Shouldn't. Not
as a Jedi Master, not as Obi-Wan's Master. Or lover.
I will have no more secrets from you.
Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan had meant the words. But obviously his
Padawan had not realized the consequences of the offer when he
had made it, and was only now realizing the potential
consequences of going back on it.
"Master a'Thuul did bring up me getting a new Master himself --
once," Obi-Wan finally started, again very softly. He had
covered his eyes with the arm not gripping Qui-Gon's hand.
Yet Qui-Gon couldn't let him to get away with hiding. At least
in hiding from the comfort his Jedi Master wanted to offer.
Carefully Qui-Gon drew that arm away, while tightening his own
grip between their fingers. He then tugged Obi-Wan back into
the folds of his embrace, holding them close together when
Obi-Wan made to protest. Qui-Gon relented only enough not to
insist Obi-Wan meet his eyes.
"This was just before the mission he died on?" Qui-Gon pressed
a kiss onto the top of the sweat-dampened hair. It had to have
been; any earlier and there would have been a note in Obi-Wan's
file. "This happened around the time you were in physical
therapy for three months? Where you got the knee injury?" he
further prompted.
He could feel Obi-Wan's nod, his Padawan's warm, moist breath
against his chest. And the return of a tremble.
"Physical and mental therapy," came the near silent and
pained admission. "The scars on the knee and my chin are the
only visible ones from that mission, but by no means the only
ones I have."
Qui-Gon gave him time, could feel how difficult this was for
Obi-Wan. He felt a sudden regret in having pushed for this, but
still knew in his heart that it needed to continue. In his
heart, and from a subtle prompting in the back of his mind from
the Force.
Still, "Obi-Wan, I'm sorry --"
"It's okay, I did say I would have no secrets from you,
Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan's voice grew a little louder, a little
stronger as it was backed at least with the discipline of
knowing one's duty. "It's hard though, not just because of what
happened, but because of how poorly I dealt with it -- how
badly I find I am still dealing with what happened. I guess I
thought I had come to better terms with ... "
"Would it be better then if you just showed me?" Qui-Gon
offered. He began to let go of the shields that held back his
own inner thoughts so that he might receive Obi-Wan's.
"No!" Obi-Wan pulled out from Qui-Gon's embrace. His eyes were
almost solid gray now and wide in alarm, but not for himself.
His own shields -- all of his shields -- were quickly slamming
back in place.
Qui-Gon bit down on a protest to be cut off even from Obi-Wan's
surface thoughts and feelings, but said nothing. He had to let
Obi-Wan offer the information in his own way even as it became
obvious the only help that would be accepted would be a
willingness to just wait. And listen.
"No, Master," Obi-Wan repeated a bit raggedly, but with more
control over his fear this time. "Trust me when I say it is
better for us both if I just describe what happened." His
expression had tightened with those shadows of pain and a new
vulnerability he was trying unsuccessfully to disguise. "I am a
functioning telempath and could accidentally sweep you up into
my memories until you would swear they are your own."
"So that is how I came to share your memories after the attack
took out our ground car on Haven?" Qui-Gon refrained from
tucking Obi-Wan back against his chest, but just barely.
Obi-Wan nodded. "And as clear as those were, as bad as it would
have gotten if we had stayed linked, these other memories are
ones neither of us want to have to live through again. I have
spent years working with Master Healer Wekh to ensure
these memories stay behind tightly sealed walls, even
from myself."
Qui-Gon's breath caught. Master Healer Niika Wekh was an
Iridian Zabrak, like Eeth Koth of the Council. As a species,
Iridians had many of the most highly disciplined minds in the
Republic, and those who became Jedi had some of the highest in
the Order. Master Healer Wekh's mind skills, like Councilor
Koth's, was almost exponentially beyond even fellow Iridian
Jedi, and she was undisputedly the strongest Mind Healer the
Jedi had. That they might ever have. At nearly the end of her
species natural life span of four hundred years, she had seen
and heard all of what sentient species could do for and to one
another, and just being in her presence was often a balm for
the soul.
Much like being around Master Yoda.
Qui-Gon had met her but, thank the Force, never had cause to
need her services. Because of her advanced age, Master Healer
Wekh contributed more in training the younger Mind Healers, and
in researching the link between talents and the Force. Mental
abilities were not solely the province of Jedi, or even those
Force sensitive, but every Jedi had at least one mental talent,
even when their species normally did not. Qui-Gon had never
heard of her taking on a Padawan's case before; young
Apprentices simply were not to be involved in missions that
could result in consequences that one of the younger Mind
Healers could not handle.
Which meant that as bad as Qui-Gon was beginning to sense this
mission had to have been, it had been far, far worse.
"How empathic are you, Master?"
Qui-Gon shrugged. "I test relatively high because of my easy
connection with the Living Force. I can empathize with most
anyone, most anything with even a rudimentary intelligence. But
I do not truly feel another's emotions unless they are
also Force sensitive. I certainly never exhibited enough to
rate as a Healer."
"Pretty average then, for a Jedi of your age and experience and
natural compassion." The smile that lifted Obi-Wan's lips had
little of humor in it. "Because of your rapport with the Living
Force, you are fortunate it isn't any stronger. Even what
little you have causes you plenty of pain and heartache, I
imagine?"
Qui-Gon shrugged again. There was almost always some pain and
heartache in a Jedi's duties; if someone didn't need them, they
wouldn't be sent. And, unfortunately, they were not always
successful. Even when the mission was a success, not everyone
was happy. Or saved. His empathy for the needs of others put
him at odds with the Jedi Council upon occasion, as well as
with his former Padawan. Too often he had let his empathy
influence his handling of a mission, the results of which,
therefore, were contrary to the desires of the Senate. Or the
Council.
"And your empathy rating, Obi-Wan?" He found himself stroking
Obi-Wan's arm, his back, much like he would to soothe a
distressed animal.
"There are others in the order that have higher ones, but only
a handful of them are also human."
Obi-Wan had begun to arch into Qui-Gon's touches, unconsciously
sensual but not sexual. Touch at this point was only for their
mutual comfort. And something long denied in Obi-Wan's life.
"I can project my emotions onto another, as I did to you on
Haven. I have never purposely done this, but when I lose
control ..." He lowered his eyes. "Master Healer Wekh has been
helping me to keep even the normal empathy at bay since added
stress or distress ..." Again his words trail off without
finishing the explanation.
But Qui-Gon didn't need the explanation finished. He leaned
over and dropped light kisses on the corners of Obi-Wan's
brittle, embarrassed smile. "None of this is in your files,
Obi-Wan," he commented mildly when he pulled back to a position
on his side, propping up his head with the hand that was not
still entwined with Obi-Wan's.
"Actually there is probably very little information about that
last year before Master a'Thuul's death in my files," he said
wryly. "Only a couple of the Council know most of what actually
happened. And Master Healer Wekh, of course. "
Most of what happened? But, "Not any of the Body or
other Mind Healers?" was all he asked about.
"They did know." Obi-Wan's eyes flicked up and over Qui-Gon's
shoulder for an instant. He stared blankly out at the traffic
the window comprising most of the back wall of the bedroom
showed, seeing something he refused to share except through
halting words.
"The three who tried to fix what had been improperly treated
after my return to Coruscant might remember some of the general
injuries, but their memories were purposely blurred at Master
Healer Wekh and Master Yoda's direction. And memories of even
knowing me were removed completely from the first two
Mind Healers who tried to help."
For an instant Qui-Gon's own mind went blank. He could not
imagine any instance where full memory suppression would be
even recommended, much less ordered. Yes, it would take Master
Yoda's approval, but he felt a little sick to think that his
former Master could so give it.
Obi-Wan seemed to guess some of Qui-Gon's discomfort, or knew
he should better explain. "Before Master Healer Wekh was called
in, I had inadvertently pushed one of the Healers into a
trauma-induced coma," he said with a painful mixture of
matter-of-factness and regret. "I had never shown any evidence
of being a telempath previously, so no one was shielded against
me. I had only discovered it myself during that mission, but
had no voice or really any awareness that I might have warned
them before they began trying to work with me."
Qui-Gon's feeling of sickness only grew. He was beginning to
suspect what Obi-Wan was not yet saying. And he very much
wanted to stop his Padawan from continuing. He wanted to gather
Obi-Wan up and hold him, protect them both from the words. But
that wouldn't stop his imagination. Or Obi-Wan's memories.
Then he abruptly flashed on something ancillary. A thought that
brought its own form of horror.
"Which Councilors know you are a telempath, Obi-Wan?"
While all twelve were great Jedi and worthy of Qui-Gon's
respect, he could not say he trusted each to put an
individual's needs before the Order's. Or even worse, before
one of the highly-charged, political situations that seemed to
be cropping up more and more to direct the disposition of the
Order's service. To have on call an individual who could so
completely influence another's emotions, as well as misdirect
lesser minds into believing anything a Jedi said as truth,
would offer great temptation, great possibilities of abuse,
even if that individual had such obviously strong moral and
ethical compunctions against using such a talent as did
Obi-Wan. Despite their dedication to the Light, horrible things
had been done for the greater good, even by the Jedi.
"Master Yoda, of course," Obi-Wan was saying with more calm
than Qui-Gon felt. But then Obi-Wan was young and, while not
naïve by any means, still fundamentally believed the best
of people. Especially those he had been trained from near birth
to trust.
"And Master Koth. He is the one who evaluates my progress when
Master Healer Wekh isn't available."
Well, certainly not as bad as it could be, assuming neither of
the Councilors or the Healer had told anyone else. Given that
Master Healer Wekh had actually taken that information from her
own Healers, Qui-Gon could hope the other two Masters felt the
same trepidation and had practiced the same discretion. While
Masters Gallia and Rancisis were the most political creatures
on the Council due to their family connections, both of those
Councilors also strove to maintain complete neutrality and so,
were actually less likely to use something that could open them
to challenges of abuse. Master Poof and Ki-Adi-Mundi, on the
other hand, were both advocates of using mental abilities that
were already considered questionable by outsiders, and Qui-Gon
could foresee a time that might come where they could cross a
line another might not.
Like forcing a telempath to coerce another's well.
Qui-Gon was confident neither Masters Koth and Wekh would cross
that line, if for no other reason than to honor the inherent
confidentiality of the revelation by Obi-Wan being their
patient; the exchange between patient and caregiver was
sacrosanct. And Qui-Gon knew, perhaps better than most, that
his former Master not only lived every moment of his life in a
manner that benefited the Jedi Order as a whole, Master Yoda
also, more than any other living Jedi, understood that
sometimes the needs of an individual might be more important
than the demands of the situation. That Master Yoda had also
become personally involved in a friendship with Obi-Wan meant
he would no more betray Obi-Wan's trust, than he could ever
turn to the Dark.
"How often do you need to be evaluated and tested, Obi-Wan?"
Qui-Gon moved his hand from its stroking of Obi-Wan's arm to
rub across Obi-Wan's cheek.
"I had just moved from six to every nine months." Obi-Wan
pressed into the caress, and offered a melancholy smile. "And
after any overly stressful mission. As you might imagine,
Master Healer Wekh is pretty dismayed to hear I lost control on
Haven. She has set up daily sessions for me for the next week,
then they'll go weekly for the next month. After that?" He
shrugged. "She will probably want -- need -- to meet with you
about it to see how you have been affected." His eyes widened
for a few seconds as something new came to him. "And meet with
you as my Master," he added with a bit of diffidence.
"I guess the only reason she hasn't sent for you yet is because
she's hoping we will have this discussion first." The sharp,
short laugh that followed this statement turned into a half
sob. "You'll definitely need to see her after we're done."
Qui-Gon's throat clenched. "Would it be better for you
if I talk to her now? I know Healers put much stock in baring
one's soul, but --"
"I've already said too much to hold back the fallout of
nightmares, Master. I might as well finish so I don't have to
go through later, too." Once more Obi-Wan was ignoring
Qui-Gon's offer of letting him out of this. His expression was
saying he might never be able to start this again if he stopped
now.
Qui-Gon drew Obi-Wan up close again and waited. Listened.
"Master a'Thuul and I had been asked to witness the ascension
rites of one of the child gods on Passik, a simple mission, or
so it should have been. The Council had actually been trying to
reward us for the troubles of the previous couple of missions."
Obi-Wan used a matter-of-fact tone, as if offering a recital of
researched facts instead of them being his own memories. Which
only heightened Qui-Gon's unease. He needed to employ this same
type of distancing when circumstance or emotion threatened to
overcome his training. The trick was to treat the information
as if it had happened to someone else. You knew it was over and
you had survived, so it was only memory and experience, like
reading history.
"Unfortunately," Obi-Wan was continuing, "for the first time in
Passik recorded history, the child's predecessor was not ready
to give up her turn as their 'Living God on Earth.' She had
contracted with some of the pirates that operated in and out of
their system to steal one of the relics that was necessary for
the transference of power to take place." His tone now moved
more into exasperation than banality, yet not so much from
anger as in self-disgust.
"Recovery of the item seemed a natural task for us to
undertake; neither Master a'Thuul or I considered it to be too
much for the Passikians to ask of us. Their system was listed
as only seven on the Menidon scale of technology and cultural
advancements, and even their pirates were pretty low-tech and
unsophisticated."
An easy assumption to make, and the Menidon system was one that
even Jedi relied on as there never seemed enough reliable,
direct information available before undertaking an assignment.
While it might be true that no plan can survive actually
meeting the opposition, Jedi prided themselves on their
extraordinary ability to cope despite flawed plans and
inaccurate information, to adapt to any untoward circumstance.
Yet even Jedi failed.
"What we hadn't foreseen and no one bothered to mention was
that the fucking relic could be taken apart!" Obi-Wan paused,
and blushed for this spot of temper.
Qui-Gon simply smiled and tightened his grip, then scooted them
both up into a sitting position with his back against the
headboard. He forgave the curse, far preferring that Obi-Wan
knew he could speak his mind when they were in private. Obi-Wan
was an adult and knew when profanity would be inappropriate.
"So you and a'Thuul split up?" Qui-Gon prompted when Obi-Wan
tucked himself backward into Qui-Gon's offered arms, then
fussed with the sheet after drawing it up to their waists.
Obi-Wan gave a short nod. "We found the first part together,
had no trouble actually, other than finding out from one of the
pirates anxious to avoid being put to death that there were
still two more parts needing to be regained. Since I was the
pilot in our pairing, I dropped Master a'Thuul off on the moon
the pirates had been using for a base, and trailed after the
ship that held the final piece. Even that should have been
routine."
"But ..."
"But what the pirate never mentioned, and we didn't know to
ask, was that his compatriots had decided to expand their
sphere of influence. They had made contact with an out-system
group who were more than willing to give them some new
technology and contacts in return for access to new resources."
He paused again and cleared his throat.
While he knew it was only delaying the inevitable, Qui-Gon went
ahead and reached out with the Force to gather the pitcher and
one of the glasses by his bedside. He poured, then offered it
over, giving Obi-Wan this chance to collect himself before
continuing.
"When I caught up with the pirates, I also got to meet their
new partners. Well, actually just some of the new partners'
representatives, in the midst of a sweep. They had partnered
with the Hutts."
If any race could be inherently amoral if not down right evil,
it was the gigantic slug-like creatures more recently from the
planet, Nal Hutta and its moon, Nar Shaddaa. Any vice known to
any sentient race they willingly procured. While they operated
primarily in the Outer Rim on those planets beyond Republic law
and control, their influence and operations stretched even into
the very heart of the Senate here on Coruscant. Illegal goods,
controlled substances, controlled species -- in their alien
minds, anything could be bought and sold.
Including other sentients.
The bed sheet was no longer enough and Qui-Gon Force gathered
one of the blankets from the foot of the bed to wrap around
first his shoulders, then Obi-Wan. While the words and the easy
to draw conclusion left Qui-Gon with his own inner coldness,
Obi-Wan had begun to shake in a physical reaction.
"You know that I had been taken by slavers on an early mission
with Master a'Thuul on a little planet named Bandomeer?" A
whisper.
Qui-Gon nodded while he tried to rub warmth back into Obi-Wan's
arms. "I familiarized myself with your files on the journey to
Haven." And had read them over a couple of more times while
Obi-Wan had been recovering in Healers Hall after Haven.
"On Bandomeer I had challenged a Hutt over how he was treating
someone. I lost, of course, and woke to find myself out on a
Deep Sea Mining platform, complete with collar and explosive
implant. I was forced to work there for almost a week before
Master a'Thuul could free me. It didn't matter that I was
younger or smaller than everyone else, or that the only reason
I could survive what they were having me do was because I was
Jedi. The overseers didn't even bother with Force restraints;
even if I did manage to remove the explosive device, where
would I go, surrounded by a thousand miles of ocean? Beatings,
shock sticks and minimal food and drinking water worked as well
on Jedi as it did non-Jedi." He took a deep breath.
"Needless to say, after going through something like that once,
I wasn't about to repeat the experience four years later if I
could help it. And I actually managed to take out a few of the
slavers. Most of the pirates. But then I saw the damn portion
of the relic I was after while I was escaping to my ship, and I
could no longer just leave." He gave a broken laugh. "Foolish,
sure, but hey, I was sixteen and knew I was a much
better fighter than I had been at twelve. My success against
them already was proof of that."
There wasn't really anything for Qui-Gon to say. Even fully
adult Jedi Masters made the occasional mistake of
overestimating their abilities. Or willingly chose to act
against their own best interest for the greater good. Had
Obi-Wan been successful, he would have been averting the
religious Jihad that Qui-Gon remembered hearing had overtaken
Passik, and would have saved thousands of the lives later lost.
A Jedi could not by action or inaction cause another
harm.
"I might have been a better fighter, but I wasn't good enough."
The laughter that spilled from Obi-Wan's throat this time had
nothing to do with anything that could remotely be called
pleasure. "And I got to find out first hand that a stunner
could be more dangerous than a blaster."
Qui-Gon frowned at this admitted omission in Obi-Wan's
training, and had a moment's wonder if it was a common
omission. Had he taught Xan or Katr'nek about stunners,
or had the knowledge eventually come to his former Padawans
from experience?
Given that so many of the people the Jedi aided had foes
looking to cause trouble with decidedly violent means, defenses
against such violence was taught as early as initiate training.
And blaster shots often killed as much from the target's body
going into shock and overall trauma as from the location of the
physical damage. Even a strike in non-vital areas could,
therefore, be lethal. Once initiates were chosen to become
Padawan apprentices, training in control over their body's
reactions to any injury, to all injuries, was paramount since
too often they would need to be able to keep fighting even
after being wounded. The ability to counteract against shock
was the single most important facet of that training -- outside
of avoiding injury in the first place.
Stunners however, unlike blasters, blades or projectile
weapons, worked by disrupting the brain's neural connections,
much the same as sonics, without causing initial physical
damage. Even that type of disruption could be countered, but it
took an extraordinary connection to one's self and to the
Force. An advanced technique, taught first to senior Padawans,
but rarely mastered until they were teaching Padawans of their
own. Even Qui-Gon usually needed advanced warning to completely
shrug off the effect of a stunner.
"I was hit with a couple of the stunners and quite easily
subdued. I didn't even have the excuse of losing consciousness.
Well, not right then, and not because of the stuns," Obi-Wan
added.
He didn't seem to realize that at sixteen, staying conscious
under even one stun was quite an achievement, much less from
several. But then, Qui-Gon imagined that even a'Thuul could be
excused from mentioning this, given what else the Master had
probably been faced with trying to restore within his Padawan's
self confidence upon his eventual rescue.
"These slavers weren't as confident with controlling me through
standard means as those on Bandomeer had been. Between my using
a lightsaber and the fact that I hadn't gone down instantly
from their stunners, they knew I was Jedi. And they just
happened to have Force restraints." He cocked his head
suddenly.
"You know, I never questioned it at the time. I'm not even sure
I realized any significance when I was trying to give my report
later. But surely one of the Masters must have wondered why
they already had restraints ..."
Obi-Wan faded off, so Qui-Gon nodded that his Padawan might
feel his response. The movement caused a few contained tears to
drop. He didn't want to think about slavers out there then or
now actively looking for Jedi any more than Obi-Wan had
not even considered it at sixteen. Hard to hold and
harder still to train before killing, some slavers still
considered Jedi the ultimate catch.
"Anyway," Obi-Wan returned to his stark recital, "I found out
that one of the slavers I had killed had a brother. Of course
he was even less pleased than their boss about his brother's
death."
Qui-Gon let his fingers drift over the sheet-covered knees that
Obi-Wan had lifted and protectively wrapped his arms around.
"That's how you got the scars?"
"Yeah. The surviving brother liked shock sticks, but he also
broke my kneecap with it just to keep me down. In addition to
the numerous shocks and burns, he also broke a few ribs,
dislocated my shoulder and would have likely done more had the
stick itself not broken because of his ... enthusiasm. He
didn't get the same satisfaction when I couldn't even convulse
any more; he didn't bother to replace it."
This last was said in a stronger voice than Obi-Wan had been
using since they had sat up, and Qui-Gon had to shake his head
in wonder as he sensed that being beaten near unto death wasn't
causing Obi-Wan near as much distress as remembering how he had
responded to the beating. Then, to Qui-Gon's further shock and
confusion, he sensed that Obi-Wan had chosen to underplay the
extent of the injuries when he had been dragged before the
slaver's medic, which caused the Jedi Master to interrupt even
when he had promised himself not to do so again.
"Why hide the extent of the damage, Obi-Wan? If they were
willing to heal you?"
Obi-Wan let go of his knees and twisted enough to lay his head
back against one of the arms that cradled him so carefully. His
expression was of chagrin. And need. Qui-Gon kissed the offered
forehead, eyelids and mouth in a further attempt to soothe. And
to make sure Obi-Wan knew he was only trying to understand and
not judge. He didn't expect Obi-Wan to be able to continue if
he could see Qui-Gon's own expressions though, and was not,
therefore, surprised when Obi-Wan chose to right himself back
forward before beginning to speak again.
"I thought -- hoped -- that if I put off telling them about the
shoulder so that it couldn't just be popped back in, and that
if I couldn't walk, they wouldn't have any use for me as a
slave."
"Useless slaves are most often killed, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon was
surprised at how calmly he could say that. And at how stupid
the statement was. Of course Obi-Wan knew about how slaves were
used or discarded.
Yet Obi-Wan had not been killed. Which meant --
"At that point, I wouldn't have minded dying." Obi-Wan still
had a bit of strength in his voice; the admission of wanting to
die, like the beating, he had obviously managed to come to
terms with.
"While I had never felt anything so agonizing as the pain in my
knee, I also knew I couldn't again go through the slice of Sith
Hell that had been Bandomeer, especially under Force
restraints." Obi-Wan shrugged and began picking at the threads
of the sheet that lay draped down his knees and across his lap.
"My only thoughts at that point were concerned with being able
to prevent having to experience something like Bandomeer again.
And a regret over failing Master a'Thuul and the people we had
been trying to save. Maybe a little disappointment that I would
never become a Knight."
And now the strength was gone, his words only a near silent
whisper that Qui-Gon felt more against his tightening skin than
he could hear as a voice to his ears.
"What I hadn't figured out was there was another purpose a
slave could serve, even if he couldn't walk, couldn't swing or
dig or lift. A service where they were actually happy that you
couldn't walk. Or fight back."
"Oh, Obi-Wan."
With the last of the clues in place, Qui-Gon's horror and guilt
fully manifested. Not only for what had happened to Obi-Wan,
but in what they -- he -- had just finished doing before
Obi-Wan had started this confession. Sheets and bodies were
still replete with the evidence of their coming together, but
now memory of what had been an enjoyable indulgence suddenly
made his stomach and heart clench. Qui-Gon tried to jerk back
to break their contact, found only the headboard and wall, and
he was suddenly at a loss of what to do with his hands.
"Why did you -- how could you let me --"
Obi-Wan gave a strangled, sobbing laugh and dropped his head
back to his pulled up knees. "If I had told you before we made
love, you never would have gone through with it," came the
heart-wrenching cry.
"Obi-Wan, I-I-you --"
A deep breath.
"What you have said doesn't change, could never change how I
feel about you." But still Qui-Gon wasn't sure if he could
reach out, if he should further touch the body curling
defensively away from him.
"While I hoped you could -- that you wouldn't hold what had
happened against me, I was afraid of what might happen -- not
happen -- if you couldn't." Obi-Wan tried to free himself from
the sheet. "I just wanted to feel it as pleasure once."
Qui-Gon moved away from the headboard board with such speed
that it smacked back into the wall. But he didn't let the
startling noise stop him from reaching for Obi-Wan, from
pulling at his Padawan and forcing the tightly strung body to
turn. Qui-Gon needed to lift the stubborn, cleft chin so that
Obi-Wan had to look and see what he was trying to shield
against having to feel. Used to expressing love through touches
and kisses and a sharing of emotion that even non
Force-sensitives could somehow feel, Qui-Gon could only let his
heart and eyes speak for him now.
For a moment Obi-Wan stayed frozen, resistant to everything
Qui-Gon felt and was offering, then he gave a little whimper
and collapsed into Qui-Gon's arms. As he had on Haven when
their bond had first begun to form, Qui-Gon let his hands rub
up and down Obi-Wan's head, neck and back while Obi-Wan pressed
tightly into his chest and just shook.
When the worst of the emotional storm passed, Qui-Gon let go
enough so he could bend down to kiss away Obi-Wan's tears. He
kept his kisses light but couldn't quite mask the hunger that
just looking at Obi-Wan seemed to bring about in him. He would
have to be careful, of course, to stay more aware of Obi-Wan's
feelings than perhaps he ever needed do before with a lover.
But as he had always tried to be attentive and to put his
lover's needs first, this he could do. Would cherish doing for
Obi-Wan.
If ...
And when Obi-Wan turned his face so that the next kiss would be
placed on his lips, Qui-Gon didn't hesitate. Yet he only
deepened it when Obi-Wan's mouth and body yielded some of its
tension. He let his love surround and engulf Obi-Wan, lowering
all of his shields so that Obi-Wan could know this was
not about guilt. Or pity.
Although not all of Obi-Wan's shielding lowered in response, he
let go enough so that Qui-Gon could feel his acceptance of what
the Jedi Master was offering. Then, "Thank you," was added
quietly when they eased back from the kiss. "Thank you for not
turning me away."
Obi-Wan reached out for the glass of water Qui-Gon had returned
to the bedside, his control of the Force shaky, but able
enough. After he had finished, Qui-Gon emptied the rest of the
glass himself, and poured another that he feared would still be
needed. He knew Obi-Wan wasn't done with what he needed to say.
"You don't have to tell me anymore," Qui-Gon still offered in
all tenderness, keeping his hand gently on Obi-Wan's shoulders.
"You'll only drive yourself crazy, wondering and imagining the
worst, if I don't," was the wryly spoken response when Obi-Wan
lifted his head to meet Qui-Gon's gaze. "Not that reality is
any better," he warned. "But if I don't finish it, I know I
will just relive it in my dreams tonight, and possibly pass
them on to you. Afterward, I --" He fell silent and finally
just shrugged, his head again lowering.
Qui-Gon put a finger under Obi-Wan's chin and eased it back up.
"We leave what comes after until then, my Padawan. My only one.
Sleep, meditation, or even a trip back to Master Healer Wekh if
you want it. And if none of that helps and we end up sharing
your nightmares, I will do so willingly. It is my duty as your
Master --" he pressed fingertips to lips when Obi-Wan would
have protested.
"-- my duty and right as your Master, my Padawan," he forged on
with a touch of sternness. "As it is my wish to be able to help
you as your bondmate and lover. No secrets between us,
and no unfulfilled needs. Or wants. You are my light and
soul, Obi-Wan. I must insist upon occasionally being your
strength."
For the first time in what felt like hours, a real, albeit
wistful smile fluttered about Obi-Wan's lips. He nodded and
settled back into Qui-Gon's embrace, turning again until he sat
between Qui-Gon's legs instead of across them, nestling with
his back to Qui-Gon's chest though he didn't go back to holding
his own knees. Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan determine the tightness of
their embrace, then lightly settled his chin on Obi-Wan's
shoulder.
Obi-Wan was right in that Qui-Gon wanted -- needed -- to know
the extent of how badly Obi-Wan had been hurt. In not knowing,
Qui-Gon would likely wonder, and those types of thoughts
could too easily haunt their future involvement, chipping away
at the shield Obi-Wan had surrounded the memories with, keeping
them in the forefront much longer than would a telling. Also it
would be only after knowing that Qui-Gon could be sure that he
would not inadvertently cause Obi-Wan pain by doing something
... wrong.
"At first, the days were spent in learning -- them and me -- as
to how much pain I could withstand. Restraints, beatings,
actually, pretty much just standard torture. I don't know how
many days this actually went on, the room was windowless and
they just kept changing places when one grew tired or I lapsed
into unconsciousness. It wasn't until the final days during my
captivity, the ones when I was being ... used on a regular
schedule, that I had any way to tell the difference between one
moment and the next." From the strength in his voice Qui-Gon
could tell that, remarkably, Obi-Wan had a reasonable handle on
this part of his memories too.
"I spent as much time as I could unconscious, which was harder
without the Force, but still pretty easy. Especially once one
of them realized just how badly my knee was already injured and
turned most of his attention there. Only when one of the others
stopped him, explaining that permanently crippling damage or
mutilation was off limits, did I figure out I wasn't eventually
going to be sent off to some mining concern, or beyond the Rim
to one of the border wars that had been the main reason for the
sweep I had gotten caught up in. And only then that I realized
this kind of torture was going to be the easy part."
Qui-Gon found that he had unraveled Obi-Wan's braid and was
combing his fingers through the strands over and over again,
his eyes riveted on the bloodless knuckles where Obi-Wan's
hands were clasped tightly together. He forced himself to let
go of the braid, then forced Obi-Wan's hands apart before his
Padawan could injure himself. While he desperately wanted to
entwine his own fingers between Obi-Wan's, he feared he might
cause damage too, for his hands were so much bigger and his
control was too shaky. Unsure of what else to do, Qui-Gon
settled Obi-Wan's hands palm flat against his framing thighs,
and placed his own on top so they could both just hang on.
"They fed me after a fashion, and although I was given water in
those first days, it was only enough to keep me alive. I never
really slept; I was either conscious, or not. Somewhere in the
midst of this, I must have been placed in a bacta tank or given
some other treatment when they finally realized they wouldn't
be able to break me without killing me. My next real memory was
as they were talking about trying something else and that it
couldn't be mutilation. I hurt, of course, terribly, and I was
dehydrated as much from blood loss as I was from thirst. But
most of the surface marks and little agonies had been healed
away."
While Obi-Wan's voice maintained its non-emotional detachment,
his body had resumed a faint trembling, as was Qui-Gon's,
though he was more successful in suppressing it. A Jedi could
only detach so much without becoming dead inside which,
although not as dangerous as directly succumbing to the Dark
side, could still be very bad.
Peace and serenity did not mean being without feelings, without
compassion or even without passions. When a Jedi began to fight
only for an ideal, when he forgot that there were people
involved, himself included, he could just as easily lose his
way as in actively turning from the Light. The trick, as in all
things, was control and balance.
"They decided that as a ... bed-slave, I would eventually stop
resisting. Or maybe not resisting wasn't important. It wasn't
like I was actually fighting them. By this time I couldn't move
my one arm or leg without them doing it for me. W-wh-which they
took great pleasure in doing. Frequently."
As he stumbled over his words, Obi-Wan's shields tightened to a
strength even Master Yoda would have had difficulty breaching.
In this Qui-Gon could recognize the hand of Eeth Koth, or Niika
Wekh, and thereby realized Obi-Wan was back to protecting
Qui-Gon from inadvertently experiencing the memories. So
Qui-Gon reluctantly shored up his own shields, while at the
same time using his body to comfort when his thoughts could
not.
"Maybe they just liked hearing my screams. They certainly
delighted in explaining that they would no longer be repeating
the whip and caning marks, the burns from both ice and heat
that they had already spent time healing. Such marks might
devalue my potential earnings except for the one on my chin.
Th-they decided it was s-sexy." A deep, shaking breath. "A-and,
anyway, the clients liked to inflict marks themselves on clean
skin." Another breath. "So my tormentors decided to use direct
neural stimulation on various pain centers to en-encourage the
r-responses they wanted." And a third time Obi-Wan's breath
hitched as he tried to force the words out, but finally a
fourth came out even.
"Even that didn't work as well as they wanted. I managed to
ignore most of what they and my body were doing, and opened
myself up to the pain so I could fall back into oblivion. I was
back to hoping and working for one of those times I just
wouldn't wake up."
Qui-Gon breathed out his sorrow and rubbed his beard against
Obi-Wan's cheek until Obi-Wan twisted his head again and
offered another brittle smile. They would both be having
nightmares on this night, he feared. Or in the near future.
Qui-Gon had never been raped, however he had worked with many
nameless refugees and victims of the wars who had. And he had
undergone -- more than once -- the earlier forms of torture
Obi-Wan had mentioned, including direct neural stimulation
which, save for small burns from the contacts, left no trace of
damage to the physical body and instead created an intense
mental agony that lingered long after the actual stimulation
subsided.
Use of stimulators bypassed so many of the body's governors
like unconsciousness, that the one administering the torture
had to be quite skilled in their use. Where the contact points
were placed and how long the stimulation lasted mattered, as
the victim could easily fall into shock, respiratory or cardiac
arrest, even coma and death. Strokes were a very common result
of this form of torture, with all the inherent, often permanent
loss of memory, speech or movement. That Obi-Wan had come
through the experience with so little permanent physical
damage was miracle indeed.
Obi-Wan accepted a chaste kiss and nodded to show he
appreciated Qui-Gon's unvoiced sympathy, then continued. "For
every coping mechanism I came up with, however, they just found
a new way to break down my resistance."
In this pause, Obi-Wan called with the Force the glass of water
again, but would have spilled it without Qui-Gon's help. The
Jedi Master encouraged him to hold on to the glass, as it might
serve as a better thing to touch than another man's flesh right
now, no matter how much that man loved him. He would need to
keep a thin field of Force around it, helping to keep it
upright and to make sure Obi-Wan didn't inadvertently shatter
it under his increasingly tightening grip, but that would give
Qui-Gon something to focus on in addition to the words, too.
"For the next phase of my ...training, they moved me into a
room barely kept above freezing in temperature. It held
restraints, of course, and a hose, a drain on the floor and
only the door they kept coming in and out of. Along with a wide
variety of s-specialized i-im-implements. It took a couple more
days here, but then they all agreed that I had learned enough
of the ... fundamentals of what was expected of me. So finally
I was cleaned up and brought out into one of the public rooms
to be shown off. And to be tested on just how well I had
learned. Until this point, I hadn't known that the Hutts and
... other a-aliens were involved; the slavers had all been
human."
That, course, was a matter greatly open to debate. Genetically
they might have been human, but there was nothing human or
humane about what they had done to his Padawan!
"Only one of the slavers was given leave to stay; by his fear I
guess he was going to be held responsible if I didn't ... do
things properly. The only other humans in the room were more
slaves. Everyone else, at best, were humanoid. M-many were not.
Like the Hutt. And many of his personal attendants."
Obi-Wan's voice was now just as cold as his skin.
"I guess I hadn't really felt true fear until I was brought
before the Hutt. Despair certainly, but always also a
determination not to make it easy for them. Nor did I give a
damn if my trainer got punished for how well I did or did not
perform. I guess I had managed to retain a bit of stupid pride
before this, had held onto an arrogance that I was better than
them. Here I had been willing to die, I hadn't. I had survived
everything they had done without really breaking. I might have
screamed until my voice was raw, but I had never begged
anything of them out loud, and had never stopped fighting."
Some emotion was starting to leak through Obi-Wan's icy
detachment, giving Qui-Gon reason to believe that as bad as
everything so far had been, what was coming was the root cause
of the anguish Obi-Wan had never managed to completely come to
terms with. Qui-Gon could sense that again, most of the
unresolved trauma stemmed not from what had been done exactly,
but more in how Obi-Wan had reacted. Leaving Qui-Gon to wonder
if Master Healer Wekh -- if anybody -- had actually heard the
entire story of what had happened.
"I'm not sure whether it was the other slaves or the Hutt's
companions -- customers -- that made the first crack in the
shield of apathy I had up until then kept around myself."
Obi-Wan's voice had dropped lower again, the words no more than
a whisper. "The slaves were awful to look at. All were
outwardly comely, some even beautiful. Attired and made up as
if they were being pampered instead of abused. But even without
the Force I could see their eyes were empty, I could feel that
their souls were dead. Especially the ones who looked like they
were enjoying what was happening to them."
He was taking another sip of water, motions made by rote, tears
slowly falling from eyes that stared unseeing anything
physically before him. Qui-Gon wanted water himself, and to
move. He needed something or needed to do something. But
movement or speech at this point would definitely be
disruptive; even the Force seemed quiescent about them. A
stillness of waiting. And that gave Qui-Gon almost more
distress than thinking about what he feared Obi-Wan would yet
say.
It was very easy to recite the litanies, to even believe the
basic tenets of a Jedi's life. Peace over anger; honor over
hate; strength over fear. The knowing that all things were
connected to and bound together by the Force which, for some,
could also be a tool, a friend, a guardian. It was easy to
believe, to accept when it offered aid in being able to defend
or protect someone who couldn't save themselves, or its
acceptance or involvement in bonding him and Obi-Wan into a
life and future together. But if all things good were a gift of
the Force, what then were all things bad? How could what had
happened to Obi-Wan be the will of anything worthy of
embracing?
"The others be just as soulless, of course," Obi-Wan was
continuing, seeming unaware of Qui-Gon's sudden crisis of
faith. "Aside from the sheer physicality o' some of the
creatures, and from seeing before me what I hae always assumed
impossibilities of couplings, it was more like I could
see the Darkness within them reflected on their bodies, in
their faces. 'Twas in this that I gave my jailers the means t'
undo me."
Qui-Gon was not at all surprised to hear hints of Obi-Wan's
native inflections now coming through. He'd actually expected
Obi-Wan to have dropped the cultured accent of High Coruscant
earlier, and could only surmise Obi-Wan had held onto it as an
aid in keeping in control.
"They were all excited about having a pet Jedi. The first one
chose t' use direct neural stimulation again, but with an
injection t'. Some sort of stim-tab t' keep me from being able
to pass out." An odd tenor of pride came into Obi-Wan's voice
at this point.
"I made him prove it. I really think he might hae let the
torture go until he killed me -- I'd like t' think I could hae
held out for that -- but he was instructed t' stop by a
Chagrian who was standing next to the Hutt. Things like seeing
an' thinking were pretty vague for me at that point, an' for a
moment I was convinced it was that new parliamentary aide
Chancellor Valorum had added to his staff about then" Obi-Wan
added almost off-handedly.
"I almost wish it had been," was then added almost subvocally.
Then a bit stronger so Qui-Gon would understand, "Because o'
the Force restraints they kept me in, I dinna yet ken that
Chagrian be Force sensitive, that he hae once even been trained
in the ways of the Jedi. But I did know that I instinctively
feared him more than anything else I had ever before felt in my
life. An' that he knew."
It was all Qui-Gon could do to keep from losing the contents of
his stomach. How much worse could it get? From slavery to rape
to coming into the hands of a Dark Jedi, one of the unspoken
Fallen Ones?
Of course such Jedi existed, anyone with half a brain could
figure out there would be some people rich in the Force who
could not comply with the rigorous demands of service for the
greater good. The Order was cautious in determining which
initiates were recommended to become Padawans, so much so that
sometimes even those who might never become tainted were still
not trained. There were others who turned later in life,
crossing that border into madness, into Darkness. Those who had
some hidden flaw, some weakness that gave the Darkness its
first shadow over their Light.
Thousands and thousands of years ago there had even been those
who chose the Darkness willingly, who created their own Order
and trained those like-minded. These Sith had chosen to take
instead of offer, to rule instead of serve. War was fought
between the two Orders, worlds -- entire systems and peoples
were destroyed. In the end, the Light had prevailed and the
Sith were destroyed. But as long as free will existed, there
would always be those who chose shadow and chaos over light and
order.
"The Dark Jedi hae been able to read me as if I hae ne'er
learned how t' shield," Obi-Wan continued. "He suggested to the
Hutt how t' break me, told the trainer could go back to his
other victims. While I dinna laugh at his boast, I dinna
believe him, either, not then. After all, I was Jedi. Death
before dishonor, an' all o' that."
Qui-Gon covered one of Obi-Wan's hands holding the glass with
his own, and wrapped the other around Obi-Wan's chest when
Obi-Wan had unconsciously started edging away.
Death before dishonor. Another one of those easy phrases in the
abstract. It was not a choice anyone should need to make, but
especially not when you were only sixteen, and just beginning
to learn about life.
"There were stocks and frames all o'er the room, wit' slaves
set up in some. The Chagrian had me dragged toward a set o'
posts. Ordered the slave already there t' be taken down.
Somehow I thought -- maybe just stupidly hoped -- that he dinna
ken they hae already tried whipping me e'en with barbed strips
and a vibro-scourge, since there were nae any visible marks
other than the tag on my chin they dinna heal. I knew that e'en
if he used the neural stimulators at the same time, I could
manage t' get through another whipping."
A pause and Qui-Gon pressed his lips to the back of Obi-Wan's
neck, tasting salt and sweat and a cold, cold, lonely pain.
"I almost passed out e'en before the Chagrian took over," he
said as if that would have been a Good Thing. "They strung me
so tightly in the frame that e'en my other shoulder almost
dislocated. Then he had me drawn down and spread wide enough
that the restraints were not put just around my ankles, but
also my knees. 'Twas with that, they got to find out I had nae
completely shredded my vocal cords previously. And I got to
find out that the stim-tab worked really, really well at
keeping me conscious."
This last was said with the barest touch of wry humor, and
Obi-Wan's Coruscant accent was growing more precise again. But
any emotion control at the moment was illusion. For them both.
"When I was then injected with something else, I just figured
it to be another stim since they had really pushed its limits
of what I could stand in cuffing my broken knee. And when the
neural controls were set to new places, I was actually glad in
a way, as I hae feared permanent nerve damage if they just kept
to the same points that had already been stressed." A deep sigh
followed, causing Qui-Gon's stomach to clench again.
"They were changing contact points to vary the sensations, but
the second injection hadn't been a stim."
"They used a sensitizer on you," Qui-Gon guessed, his throat
filling with bile.
"Oh yeah. A stimulator and a sensitizer. Even the touch just t'
test the contacts was ... intense. The test to actually see if
the sensitizer was working was something entirely
incomprehensible to undergo and not somehow die from the
feeling."
Obi-Wan's muscles tighten in memory, his body now more rigid
than the headboard and wall behind Qui-Gon's sweat-dampened
back. Oh how he wanted to soothe that away.
"I couldn't scream, could nae breathe. I think at some point my
heart did stop beating, but nae long enough. That wasn't then
end of it, of course, was only a bonus. An enhancement. And all
through it I had still been thinking whipping, not rape. I had
been dropped t' a lower position so I had constant pressure
against my knee, right?" But Obi-Wan didn't really pause long
enough for Qui-Gon to answer, not that it had been expected
either way.
"I might hae made a better guess t' his plans, as most every
male had some form of erection, those in control and even a few
of the slaves. 'Twas the whole point of being a guest in the
Hutt's playroom. They got to play and do -- or watch being done
-- the things that got them excited."
For a moment Qui-Gon's brain could only process that Obi-Wan
refused to call those who stood over the slaves as masters.
Then had to quickly remove the glass from Obi-Wan's hands
before it was his fault it spilled. Or broke.
"Did you know the twin sets of horns around their head are not
the only things encased in keratin on a male Chagrian?" he
asked almost matter-of-factly, but again with no pause before
his next words.
"He wasn't the first that night, but being raped by him was
just awful, was so much worse than any of the others, including
a fat Gamorrean. Not just because of the pain, but because ever
thrust did continual, physical damage all of which was
heightened and magnified thanks t' the drugs. And he just would
nae end it. All o' the ones who had gone before him, although
there was some variation in sizes and techniques, few had
little control or stamina when it came right down to it. Before
the Chagrian, I guess I had thought I had gotten used to it."
Oh, that anyone would ever have time to get used to rape!
"O' course, e'en the rape was nae the worst o' what the Dark
One p-pl-planned." Obi-Wan's voice and accent broke wide again,
his breaths starting to come quicker and more shallow, as if
there suddenly wasn't enough air in the room.
Qui-Gon immediately bent one of his knees to lift his leg
upward, then gently pushed Obi-Wan across it. Rubbing Obi-Wan's
back in long, slow strokes, Qui-Gon wasn't trying to stop the
other from speaking, just giving him something to lean against
and hold on to. Just trying to reconnect Obi-Wan to his body,
to this moment of the now and away from the memories of then.
"The Chagrian called o'er t' the H-Hutt t' join him. An' he
wh-whispered something I could nae make out."
This was too much, maybe for them both. Qui-Gon folded his body
over Obi-Wan's back and moved one hand to stop the words. But
Obi-Wan shook his head and kept going, though the words were
choking him.
"With a chuff of laughter, the Hutt started t' l-li-lick me. At
my legs, under my arms, across my face. I could nae e'en close
my eyes when his tongue lapped at them. It was like a millions
o' stumps o' fingers were bleeding acid all o'er me. I tried t'
scream, but that only invited the Hutt to put his t-tongue down
my throat. I was choking, an' the Dark One was laughing. At
least he finally be t' close t' climaxing to sustain it, though
still he managed t' bark out something. An order, a plea,
an'-although-I-hae-th-thought-the-Hutt-t'beincharge,
suddenlyIdinnakenwhicho'themwasanymore -- "
Qui-Gon's breath as Obi-Wan's did, and he hardly noticed that
his leg was growing numb from the tightness of Obi-Wan's grip.
Or that his own grip held his fingers bloodless.
And still there was more.
"As-the-Chagrian-climaxed,
theH-Huttwrappedhist-tonguearoundmyc-c-cock." The words were
forced through a breathless whimper.
"I hae been trying t' pull away all along, t' e'en push myself
back on the Chagrian so that all I could feel was him cutting
an' filling me, but now I was twisting on the chains so wildly
that I managed t' dislocate my second shoulder. I nearly ground
the bone o' my kneecap int' powder, but e'en that was nae
enough.
I-couldnae-stop-the-Hutt-an'-I-couldnaestopmyreactionscouldnaeblackoutcouldnaedie.
He -- I -- I -- "
"Shh, Obi-Wan. Shhhh."
Oh please don't say it, don't finish. It is bad enough it
happened, even worse that something like that was your first
time in someone else's hand, but you don't have to say it
--
"It's okay," Qui-Gon tried to soothe. "It happened long ago and
it's over and I don't --"
"But it isn't."
Obi-Wan's utter despair pierced Qui-Gon's heart. Somehow the
Jedi Master knew this was the memory that had overpowered the
other Mind Healers. And when Obi-Wan offered nothing more, even
Master Healer Niika Wekh had not looked for there to be
something else. That Obi-Wan was made to respond as if he
enjoyed what was being done to him had been enough of a
degradation. Unfathomable. Something no one should ever have
had to endure. That, in the minds of his Healers, such reaction
would account for any trauma Obi-Wan might have been then
exhibiting or projecting.
Qui-Gon really didn't want to know the rest. For once,
his own imagination had thankfully become blank.
But Obi-Wan had endured what Qui-Gon couldn't even imagine. And
he would be damned to a Sith Hell if he couldn't manage
listening. Especially when no one else ever had.
Still, he ached that there was no one he could punish for his
Padawan's pain.
"Not proper thoughts for a Jedi Master," Obi-Wan tried to
laugh. He had stopped rocking against Qui-Gon's leg, but still
held on tightly to it, and to the arm Qui-Gon still wrapped
around Obi-Wan's heaving chest. Although Obi-Wan was still
zealously shielding his own thoughts, apparently he could pick
up some of Qui-Gon's.
Qui-Gon tried to respond with understanding. "Is this what you
couldn't tell Master Healer Wekh, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon let his
breath and comfort fall gently against Obi-Wan's sweat-slicked
neck. "That you wanted to hurt them back?"
A sudden flash came through Obi-Wan shields, letting Qui-Gon
feel an instant of the horrible pleasure when death had come to
the Chagrian. But he could not be sure if vengeance had come at
Obi-Wan's own hand, from his Master's once Obi-Wan had been
found, or by someone else. All he knew was that Obi-Wan had
been there to see it.
Qui-Gon felt a horrible pleasure of his own in learning that.
The Chagrian deserved death a thousand times over. What he
couldn't match was Obi-Wan's shame in having this feeling.
"Yes, well n-no," Obi-Wan stuttered. "Some o' them did die,
including the Chagrian, an' oh, how I hae wanted them all t'.
An' yes, I killed them, but it was nae --"
Words spilled out of Obi-Wan in a kaleidoscope of
contradiction. Much like the random chaos of his thoughts that
continued to leak through splintering shields.
"Padawan!" Qui-Gon reached out firmly with voice, thought and
hands, grounding his own control into them both before Obi-Wan
could lose more than his shielding. He didn't fear Obi-Wan's
telempathy for himself, but it seemed quite possible that
Obi-Wan could get caught up in it within his own mind, lost in
a loop of memory that could destroy his sanity.
Soon after Obi-Wan had started his disclosure, Qui-Gon had
quaked at the thought of touching him, was ashamed to think of
their earlier actions. Or how any of his subsequent reactions
might prey on Obi-Wan's memories of those others. Up until this
moment, however, Obi-Wan had continued to make it abundantly
clear that he did not fear Qui-Gon's touch or closeness. That
he did, in fact, crave them.
Now, touch was imperative, was the only tangible connection
between them as he could not grasp hold of anything within
Obi-Wan's mind as it tried to turn in on itself. Being no Mind
Healer, Qui-Gon still knew he had only seconds to keep Obi-Wan
alive in the present instead of lost forever in the past. He
had none of the training, not even a hint of proper procedure,
but he did have all of his experience as a Jedi Master with the
Force, plus their bonds and his love, all of which he rammed
undauntedly through their link, even as he also tried with
words and voice to trigger Obi-Wan's auto-response to his
training.
Qui-Gon pulled until Obi-Wan was straddling his lap and
fastened his mouth to his Padawan's lips. Then thrust with
tongue, cock and thoughts to breach all of Obi-Wan's barriers.
Without their bond it would have been rape just as vicious as
what the others had done. But the Force surrounded them,
enveloped them and opened a conduit holding their love for each
so that all thoughts and memories of anything beyond each other
in this moment were blocked.
Qui-Gon didn't do anything else until Obi-Wan began to respond
-- maybe only involuntary -- but it was enough. And he sought
no release other than Obi-Wan's, every thrust now only to rub
against Obi-Wan's prostate. He reached between them with the
hand that was not cradling Obi-Wan to him, offering the warmth
of flesh instead of just a channel of Force.
Obi-Wan further hardened under his touch and arched backward.
For a moment Qui-Gon followed to prolong his plundering of
Obi-Wan's mouth, but he wanted to hear Obi-Wan and so pulled
back. He moved his face down against the extended column of
Obi-Wan's neck, nipping with lips and teeth, brushing the
tender flesh with his beard, feeling the scream build beneath
his touch there, as he could feel Obi-Wan's release building
beneath the touch of his hand.
The Moment was all light, all sound, a pure flash of Force and
force that overwhelmed conscious thought and caught them up in
a profound connection with the Living Force. Then the moment
passed, and Qui-Gon found himself lying on his back, Obi-Wan on
top of him with his head tucked between neck and shoulder. The
Jedi Master couldn't remember climaxing himself -- though he
could feel the sticky evidence that he had -- or remember even
pulling out of Obi-Wan.
For long seconds they just lay there, then Obi-Wan let out a
long, shuddering breath.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon lifted his head to meet glowing eyes turning
from gray to beryl. When a tired smile followed, the Jedi
Master let go of the breath he had been holding, then reached
out with the Force to one of the towels beyond the door across
from them.
"I'm sorry if I did anything --"
Obi-Wan pulled himself further up Qui-Gon's chest and silenced
his apology with a kiss full of tenderness. "You didn't," he
said upon pulling away.
Qui-Gon nodded. Their link fairly hummed with contentment.
Cleaning them up, Qui-Gon rolled their bodies so they lay
facing each other on their sides again. He brought up a hand up
to pet at Obi-Wan's hair while Obi-Wan slid his own arms under
Qui-Gon's and hugged tightly. This lasted for more than a
minute, then Obi-Wan pulled back and rolled even more until he
lay flat on his back.
"I told Master Healer Wekh I had broken then," he finally
returned to the telling, eyes trained on the ceiling but with a
strength in his voice that had long been missing. "And I had.
At that point I would hae agreed to almost anything if I dinna
have to have the Hutt near me again."
Qui-Gon raised himself up on one arm. "Anyone would have,
Obi-Wan. Certainly I would have. Or Niika Wekh, Eeth, Mace
Windu. Even Master Yoda would have faltered when faced with
something similarly horrific. And any one of us would have felt
... satisfaction upon the deaths of those who had done that.
You know you have nothing to be ashamed about? That Master
Healer Wekh -- that your own Master understood?"
Obi-Wan nodded and he turned his head to meet Qui-Gon's eyes.
But he also gave a sad smile. "But I was still only sixteen and
feared being kicked out of the Jedi as unworthy. If that had
happened I know I would have killed myself then, or at least
found someone to kill me." The gaze went back toward the
ceiling. "I could live with the shame of what had been done,
but not in losing my place in the Order."
"What did you do that gave you cause to think we would have
abandoned you, Obi-Wan?"
Qui-Gon couldn't begin to guess the answer, but it had to be
the crux of Obi-Wan's actions -- reactions. If he had somehow
managed to free himself and, in doing so kill his captors,
Obi-Wan would have been commended for his skill and sheer
perseverance. Even if he had drawn more from the Dark than the
Light to accomplish it, he would have been forgiven. And
counseled. Obi-Wan had been made to experience things that
would also have broken any Master Qui-Gon knew. Or knew of even
in the history of their Order.
Yes, embracing the Dark even temporarily might have meant he
would never become a Knight, but Obi-Wan would have been helped
regardless, not punished. Treated and assisted in finding some
other future, or cared for forever if necessary. And yes, that
type of future would be a trial to have considered, especially
for one so young and who had had such dreams. But even in
knowing him for less than a month's time, Qui-Gon knew
Obi-Wan was stronger than that. He knew that Obi-Wan would not
have given up so completely as to seek suicide if he could not
become a Jedi Knight.
Not just for killing someone who needed to be killed.
He reached out to touch Obi-Wan's shoulder. "What did the
Council do about the Dark Jedi, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon gave into the
need for a temporary diversion, since as before, it would most
likely lead to answers, even if only in a round about manner.
Obi-Wan's breath hitched. "I told Master Yoda enough about him
that he could identify who it had been I think, but I never
asked. I really dinna want to know that the Chagrian had had a
Master at one time himself, and might have had his own Padawan.
That he might have been known -- loved -- by people that
I knew."
Qui-Gon let his hand cover the one Obi-Wan was tightening into
a fist near his hip, pulling the fingers apart before Obi-Wan
did himself damage. "How did you find out the Chagrian had even
been a Jedi?"
Each question was one more step to the goal, even if they
needed occasionally move sideways.
"I was willing, was ready to promise I'd do what e're they
expected of me as a slave after the Hutt." Obi-Wan kept his
eyes on the ceiling, yet kept tight hold of Qui-Gon's offered
hand. "I had no voice left at that point, but they knew I would
submit. He knew. Instead, though, he ordered me removed
from the chains and post, then had me draped across my stomach
over some sort of low support for some more fun. Others held me
down by my wrists and knees. The Chagrian then knelt behind me
and started to call some others to come forward so he could
introduce me to the differences and specific needs of
the variety of species throughout the room."
Qui-Gon found his own free hand tightening into a fist, and
consciously reached for the Force to help in keeping control.
"I was in no shape to escape even if I hadn't been being held
down, and the Chagrian decided it'd be ... fun to have the
Force restraints removed. At that point I still dinna know
about him, and I couldn't imagine why he would take any chance,
other than for added humiliation since he knew I would try to
escape anyway. It was all for me to find out he had been a
former Jedi, because he knew how that would make me feel worse
than everything else that had happened. Just as he knew I'd
automatically reach for the Force if I could, even if I could
nae really use it."
To someone Force sensitive, the Force is another sense, and its
loss disturbing. To a Jedi, the loss can be devastating,
crippling. Being trained in its control, Jedi learned things
that became as natural as breathing, like levitation or
telekinesis. Telepathy or empathy. Telempathy.
When any sense is blocked or cut off, it can become momentarily
magnified in the instant of its restoration. With the Force, it
is not unlike touching the Moment directly, something which
usually only happens in deep meditation. And had happened in
their most recent sharing. The use of Force restraints were
part of a Jedi's training, but always in controlled situations,
with the Jedi's Master and a Healer standing by to help
shepherd or assist that Moment of immersion into the Living
Force.
At sixteen, a human boy's body would already be in the throes
of hormonal rebalancing, his emotions and awareness fluctuating
between hyperstates and apathy. By adding stimulants and
sensitizers to the mix, then sex, even unwilling, there would
have been no chance for control. The sudden reawakening to the
Force would have been a hundred times more intense than the
absolute worst pleasure or pain given to Obi-Wan through the
neural stimulation, and must have caught him up in an explosion
of a multitude of Moments. Giving birth, perhaps, to his
prescience and to his telempathy.
"And I did reach out, if for no other reason than to be able to
shield against his Darkness. I was nae thinking about what else
might happen. Before the restraints were removed, I dinna know
my empathy was above normal. Maybe it wasn't. Not until they
were removed and the Dark One somehow opened a link between us
in those first few overwhelming seconds of feeling the Force
again. By thrusting his entire fist inside o' me next, I lost
any chance to fight him or to even shield, and he kept the link
going, growing as he began to draw in the minds of others in
the room. Body contact made it easier, the ones who fucked my
mouth were added first."
Qui-Gon's breath and heart seized again, but Obi-Wan was beyond
noticing and didn't stop.
"Then the Dark one started to control my connection to
the Force. Making me feel not just my pain, but the pleasures
and lusts the others felt. Their darkness. His Darkness. And it
just kept building as the cocks in front of me changed. There
was nae even a release from those who had finished with me.
They moved onto other slaves, which then brought them into the
link with their own pain. Or pleasure. I tried so hard to kill
myself then. To choke, to accelerate the blood loss from
everything that had been or was still being torn. An' again he
wouldn't let me go." Obi-Wan sighed.
"I don't remember how many used me there versus how many rapes
I just felt through the link. Or how long I was held there by
the Chagrian's fist. I know it wasn't really as long or as many
as I imagined," he offered brokenly. "Otherwise I would hae
managed to give up my sense of self in the maelstrom of so many
different psyches. Or finally died as I had so craved."
At this Obi-Wan loosened his numbing grip on Qui-Gon's hand,
and the Jedi Master instantly pulled Obi-Wan forward so his
head rested back against Qui-Gon's heart. They were almost to
the end of it. They had to be.
The secret Obi-Wan had buried so deeply.
"I guess that was the final goad," came Obi-Wan's shrug against
his chest before he crawled a little farther upward. And
closer. "Even insanity held a measure of appeal, but he denied
me that as he denied me death. But I hae the Force. I could nae
control it true, yet just being able to reach it after those
long days without was a small but true comfort."
Now Qui-Gon could press his lips to the top of Obi-Wan's head.
"I figured that if I was going to submit to something, let it
be the Force. So I just let go. I cast out everything --
feelings and fears, the pain, my memories of the past and hopes
for the future, even my sense of self, giving it all to that
last glimmer of Light. He felt it, of course. And tried
to stop me. But he couldn't break the links quickly enough
since there were so many. And then I wouldn't let the
one between the two of us go. He and a few of the others got
drawn out with me. My final thought was that at last the Force
was looking out for its own."
Qui-Gon had to control his startled reaction to the bitterness
that had begun to creep into Obi-Wan's tone.
"I was only told, and eventually shown what happened next. When
I finally became aware of who I was again -- remembered where I
was, and wondered that I was alive -- I found myself lying on a
real bed, back in Force restraints. But for the first time in
maybe a week, I was also alone and only lightly cuffed. I had
even been given a blanket and some sort of robe. From how bad I
still felt, I knew I hadn't been unconscious too long,
certainly not for days. Probably not even for a day." He let
out a long breath.
"The first thing I did was roll over the bed's edge and throw
up. I guess someone was watching, or listening, because a door
opened before I was finished. I feared it would be the Dark
Jedi, or one of the slave trainers, but it was actually one o'
the other slaves. And I found out that even after all I had
gone through, I could still be embarrassed." He gave a little
laugh that was real, but then sobered almost instantly and
rolled away from the comfort he had been taking from resting
against Qui-Gon's shoulder and throat.
"He was afraid of me, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered. "He was
maybe twice my age and weight, and at least a foot taller. I
could nae even lift either arm had they been free, an' he had
been sent in t' carry me because I could nae stand on my own
feet. Yet even without the Force, I could tell he was terrified
of a broken sixteen year old." No pride or accomplishment there
in his eyes, just shadows and the color returning to the
haunted gray.
"Another slave explained after this first one took me into a
room where I was cleaned up. Like I'm sure you hae guessed, in
my surrender to the Force, my telempathy manifested. What I hae
been made to feel in the playroom, I made them feel. An' that
killed six of them, including the Chagrian. I put another four
into comas, which was probably just another death sentence
since the Hutts dinna like useless people e'en when they were
allies. Two o' the dead had e'en been slaves, as was one of the
ones in a coma. I hae become a bigger threat t' the slave's
safety than the ones who t-tor-tortured an' r-raped them."
Qui-Gon's heart broke as Obi-Wan's voice did.
"The surviving slaves hae been told that if they dinna d'
everything demanded o' them, they'd be given t' me! No
one understood what I hae actually done, but as the Dark Jedi
hae been the worst o' the Hutt's men an' I had still managed t'
kill him while being subdued, I obviously hae t' be more
powerful, if nae more dangerous. I was told that if I
didn't submit, they'd remove the restraints again while fucking
me in even more creative ways. An' who knew how many more
innocents I would be killing? So I did, even though the
telempathy might nae hae worked or gotten out o' control
without another Jedi involved. I let them do anything t' me,
just so I dinna hae t' kill --"
Qui-Gon cupped Obi-Wan's chin and leaned forward so he could
kiss silent those trembling lips. He then made Obi-Wan lift his
liquid eyes upward. "The deaths were not your fault," he said
gruffly. "You have nothing to feel guilty about or to be
ashamed of."
Though he did have to wonder why they hadn't just killed
Obi-Wan instead of work so hard to keep him under control.
"Just another victim, right, Master? " A disquieting
brittleness overtook Obi-Wan's expression and tone. An increase
of the bitterness so recently let loose. "So Masters Wekh an'
Koth hae spent six years telling me, e'en though they dinna ken
why my telempathy manifested or what all I actually submitted
to. No guilt, as every bit o' the experience was just the
fucking Will o' the Force!"
Qui-Gon couldn't stop his hand from dropping when their link
was swamped by Obi-Wan's bitterness. This gave Obi-Wan
opportunity to move away, although he didn't go so far as to
actually leave the bed. His skin was flushed save for the
bloodless white beneath his fingertips where he clutched at his
own arms in near bone-breaking strength. A kind of wild
vindication at Qui-Gon's reaction took over his expression,
while guilt poured through their link in waves so strong
Qui-Gon feared Obi-Wan would drown them both.
Weaving through the guilt just as strongly if not even more
powerfully, were long, unresolved feelings of anger. Some of it
was self-directed, born of normal doubts and disgust that he
had not been able to prevent becoming a victim. Most of the
anger, however, was directed outward, and Qui-Gon had to wonder
how Obi-Wan had managed to keep this from Master Healer Wekh,
or any of the Councilors he had gone on missions with, like
Mace or Master Yoda. Had the feeling been directed toward those
who had victimized Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon doubted it could have
stayed hidden -- for too many would have been looking for just
that sort of thing.
Raised to abide by the Will of the Force, a demand that would
never go away as long as Obi-Wan stayed Jedi, it was the Force
itself that Obi-Wan had -- and still -- blamed.
This time Qui-Gon couldn't successfully hide his recoil. Or the
ice that washed through him. For just an instant his mind
screamed to think it had bonded to someone so ... damaged. He
had to look up when he felt the bed move beneath him, but
couldn't think what it meant for Obi-Wan to be putting back on
his outer tunic. To be walking away --
"In the morning I will tell Master Yoda that I have changed my
mind about becoming your Padawan, Master ... Jinn."
The words made no more impact than what he was seeing. Nor did
Obi-Wan's new resolve that was the last thing he sensed through
their link before it faded. It was only the resulting
discordance in the Force which caused him to review again what
he had and hadn't listened to, to take stock of what he had
seen and felt. And ignored.
The first thing he found was that his inner scream of outrage
found no echo in his soul. That the discord in the Force was
from Obi-Wan's current actions and last words, from Qui-Gon's
reaction to his first words, yet not the words themselves. Not
unless by his own actions he made all of those words their
reality. Their future.
The purity of the Force still sang between them, colored with
fear, yes. And anger. But no Darkness.
Despite everything he had endured, his Padawan and would be
lover held only the all too human frailties they all shared, a
vulnerability that with patience, further training and
unrestrained love from Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan might one day overcome.
Qui-Gon could even see that those deaths had been the
Will of the Force. As much as he might want to resent the Force
for putting them through this, Qui-Gon knew he could not hold
onto any resentment in bonding with Obi-Wan either as Master or
as a lover. As only Obi-Wan's lover, or only his Master,
Qui-Gon would never have pushed beyond the point that Master
Healer Wekh had known. Which meant Obi-Wan would likely never
have told anyone. And never finally begun to heal.
And never would become a Jedi Knight.
Master Yoda had trusted Qui-Gon with something Obi-Wan had
convinced himself made him unworthy to be a Jedi, yet which
both Masters could see made him most worthy. That despite all
of that had happened, Obi-Wan had never even considered turning
to the Dark. Except for his age, Obi-Wan had passed his trials
of Knighthood when he had faced his inner darkness and not
embraced or given in to it. Now he only had to let go and
realize that.
"Please do not leave me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon began to entreat. "I
chose you as my Padawan and my lover. I do not want either to
change."
Obi-Wan's thoughts were a maelstrom of distraught emotions, but
he stopped his advance to the door.
"I know it is little consolation, but did you ever think that
maybe those deaths were benevolent?" Qui-Gon posed
softly. "That through you, the Force was able to spare those
who died from an ever crueler fate? You were their salvation
while death was their freedom and redemption and, perhaps, the
only form of either they could accept?"
He could feel the automatic denial Obi-Wan wanted to voice but
did not. Which gave Qui-Gon enough hope that he began to rise
from the bed and approach, though he did not yet reach for
Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan's admission explained many things, such as his
inability to bond with anyone else since a'Thuul's death and
his lack of close friends. Obi-Wan had fallen from his center.
Undoubtedly others could sense that, and it had become an
unconscious factor to keep him apart from them on both sides.
It also could explain Obi-Wan's extraordinary connection with
the Unifying aspect of the Force at his young age, and why he
had such a weak connection to the Living Force even with his
higher levels of empathy. Willfully or not, he used it only as
a tool in his physical and mental endeavors, instead of as a
guide. And in turning away, he had lost a measure of its
reassurance that he was still on the right path.
For too long Obi-Wan felt that his empathy that should have
allowed even greater connections between life and living, was a
flaw. A curse. Just like his prescience. They were abilities
kept blocked so tightly that they could only break free in
times of great stress. Giving him, therefore, only negative
reinforcement in that either always brought with them pain.
Obi-Wan's resentment and loss of the Living Force might even
explain his tendency to give too much in his defense on behalf
of another, to use up all of his reserves in battle so that he
had nothing left when the threat was over as a penance. Such a
depletion as Qui-Gon had noted on Haven was a dangerous
practice, not exactly a death wish, yet show no compelling
reason to live, either. This was something Master Koon was
working with Obi-Wan to reverse, Qui-Gon had discovered, but
with little success so far.
Qui-Gon sincerely hoped that would now change.
Something, however, was still twisted in Obi-Wan's memories.
One last little piece of hurt. Guilt. And based in what had
first led them to this point and their conversation. Sardenk
a'Thuul.
A distant part of Qui-Gon's mind noted he had finally accorded
Sardenk a'Thuul his proper respect, calling him Master for
probably the first time since making Obi-Wan's acquaintance.
The Trandoshan had to have known everything that had
happened to Obi-Wan. No sixteen year old Padawan -- not even
this one at sixteen -- could shield so completely to hide their
strained connection with the Force from their Master.
So Master a'Thuul had known. And hadn't called Obi-Wan on it,
but had then died before he could help his young charge
overcome it.
While Qui-Gon might never agree that Master a'Thuul had been
the proper Master for Obi-Wan, he could at least take comfort
that someone had been there for that sixteen year old boy, just
as he was here for the man. And Qui-Gon could hope that
somewhere within the Force, Master a'Thuul might be able to see
their Padawan allowing someone to help him take those last
steps to finally heal.
Obi-Wan gave the barest of nods. And stood shaking with sorrow.
Master a'Thuul had known. And Master a'Thuul had tried to find
Obi-Wan a new Master. But Obi-Wan had never understood why. And
later could never asked someone else why he had been so
willingly discarded, not without having to explain why he
accepted being cast off.
Just a small misinterpretation.
That had shadowed Obi-Wan's life almost as deeply as had the
events that had so shaken their relationship that such a
misinterpretation could happen.
"You felt Master a'Thuul thought badly of you?" Qui-Gon had to
confirm. "That he wanted to be rid of you?"
"He wanted to give me to a new Master," came the broken
admission of a sixteen year old boy.
Such a terrible hurt after all of the others. One too easily
embraced for its familiarity after being confronted by so many
things beyond comprehension.
Qui-Gon could no longer let Obi-Wan stay away from his touch,
though he only placed his hand on the trembling shoulder.
"Oh, my dearest one, he didn't say that because he no longer
wanted you, or because he thought you were unworthy to become a
Jedi. He suggested that he should find you another Master
because of how he had failed you. No one could know of
the type of horror and pain you went through without feeling it
was somehow their fault. And yes," he added with a weary
smile," that includes me right now, even though I didn't know
you then, and wasn't in a position to have made any difference
even if I had."
He added a second hand to the second shoulder. "For Master
a'Thuul, it wasn't just the associative guilt that comes from
caring about others, from our empathy. He was your Master. He
had ordered the two of you to separate. It had been his
decision that led you to the place where the slavers could take
you. And, therefore, his fault for everything that happened
afterward."
"I never blamed him."
"I know," Qui-Gon said very gently. "You simply took all of his
guilt and added it to your own."
While Qui-Gon wanted nothing more than to take Obi-Wan back
into his arms and hold him close again, this was another
defining point of their relationship. And one even more telling
than that moment on Haven when out of fear for Obi-Wan's
safety, he had tried to prevent Obi-Wan from doing what had
been necessary. When he had ordered Obi-Wan to stay hidden and
let his Master proceed, even though Obi-Wan was not only better
suited to the task, but Qui-Gon's involvement at that time
would have resulted in the mission's failure. It hadn't
mattered that he had reacted to protect Obi-Wan and not because
he didn't trust the other man. Then, like now, if Qui-Gon
misstepped, they would be forever cast into unequal roles that
their relationship could not survive.
Yes, Obi-Wan was his Padawan. And there would be times when
decisions would be made without a consensus between them, when
he made decisions that would affect them both, for that was his
right and his responsibility. But there would also come a time
when he would need to yield a decision to Obi-Wan. Or when he
might need his own comforting. Qui-Gon wouldn't be able to do
that, however, without knowing Obi-Wan could make such a
decision or handle such a role.
If Obi-Wan couldn't trust in himself, neither could Qui-Gon. He
could probably manage to shepherd another Padawan to
Knighthood, but he couldn't let them stay as lovers.
Obi-Wan physically held out for a few seconds more although his
shields were falling faster than their mutual tears. Then he
turned, and folded himself into Qui-Gon's arms.
Spilling over their link was why he had used Qui-Gon's own
feelings for him to force their coupling, that he had feared
that even if Qui-Gon didn't reject him, he could never have
accepted the Jedi Master taking him a first time, no matter how
sweet the seduction. And how he had been terrified to find
himself enjoying it their second time. Which was the real
reason he told Qui-Gon about his past. That once his Master
knew, nothing more would ever happen and so he wouldn't need to
feel the guilt. That he might even be turned away -- because he
deserved to be turned away -- but Qui-Gon still seemed to love
him, and that it was only in the deepest part of his heart that
he could pray without hope that someone might finally grant him
their forgiveness for his doubts and complete loss of faith.
For his anger.
And if someone could do that, then so, too, could the Force.
"To accept my forgiveness, you need only forgive yourself,
Obi-Wan."
The tears that fell this time were cleansing. As were the
touches. The hugs. And the balm of comfort the Force wrapped
around them both as Qui-Gon led them to sit back down on the
bed and they just leaned against each other.
"You do understand that I may never completely conquer my
feelings from that time?" Obi-Wan finally asked as he dropped
into the deep breathing pattern usually preceding meditation or
used to trigger control instead. "That there are things I may
never be able to do, at least not without balking. That there
are races I will not work with, or if I do it will only be out
of duty to you and not to the Order? That at times my body will
fail because of incomplete healings, and there will be things
the two of us may never be able to do together no matter how
much love there is between us?"
Qui-Gon brushed his lips against Obi-Wan's temple. "We are none
of us perfect, Obi-Wan, despite our dreams and desires to
become such."
"Oh, I have flaws, Qui-Gon," he said with a ghost of laughter.
"Lots of mental aberrations, emotional blocks and the
occasional physical limitation. Like my knee and a tendency to
dislocate my left shoulder with little stimuli." He raised his
chin and turned to meet Qui-Gon's gaze. "I am nothing like your
Xanatos, like your perfect Padawan, to so inspire your
dedication and trust."
Qui-Gon also turned so he could put his hands at the other's
jaw, and rubbed a thumb across the scar across the cleft there
in his chin that had so captivated him from the first moment
they met. "I do not want a perfect Padawan, my Obi-Wan, for
then you would have no use for an imperfect Master. It is you
that I love, will forever love, not only as a Master but as a
man. All I ask is that you trust me with your flaws when
keeping silent might endanger yourself or another, just as I
will trust you with my own. You must let me help you and teach
you when I can, just as I will learn from and lean on you. We
will both make mistakes, may yet hurt one another unwillingly,
for to be alive is to be imperfect. But in trust there will
always be the Light, in love there will always be forgiveness."
Obi-Wan slid off the bed to stand, then bent forward to place
chaste kisses on Qui-Gon's forehead and eyelids. "I think you
just wrote our vows, my Master. My beloved." A kiss to Qui-Gon
lips. "In you I have found the Force again." Another kiss. "In
your trust and love, I will always find self and home." And
another before lowering himself to kneel between Qui-Gon's
legs.
Qui-Gon simply looked at him for a moment, then slid down from
the bed himself until they were equal before each other again
and returned his hands to cup Obi-Wan's cheeks and chin. "In
the Moment there is no past and no future --" he breathed so
that it was his air that filled Obi-Wan's chest.
" -- for our focus is our reality -- Obi-Wan continued with his
own exhale.
" -- and our reality is this moment.* Words together, then
lips. And body. And minds.
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