SUMMARY: Sequel to Recognition, Evolution and Sensation.
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are separated and Obi-Wan has some growing
up to do. Large backstory,including why Qui acted as he did.
This story will make much more sense if read in order.
NOTES: Huge thanks to Em, who feeds me toast, beta's, and shows
me everyday what unconditional love is all about. Also thanks
to ALL of you who wrote and reminded me that a happy ending is
necessary. There is one more in the series.
FEEDBACK: Oh yes, please. . .
STORY SO FAR: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan meet when Obi-Wan is someone
else's Padawan and they are instantly, passionately, drawn
together. But before their bond is completely sealed, Obi-Wan
must leave Coruscant with his Master. He begs to stay with
Qui-Gon, who apparently rejects him. Unused to being rejected
by anyone, Obi-Wan is stunned and immediately raises his
shields as he leaves Qui-Gon in the garden, not realizing the
pain he has caused his lover.
Qui-Gon stayed in the garden, and at some point he crawled to
his Joxtrepia, leaning against it. He was too devastated to
meditate, too shocked to do anything but replay that final
scene over and over. How could Obi-Wan possibly think he was
being tossed away? Qui-Gon had made it very clear in words and
deeds, from that first night, that he would wait for him. He'd
made it clear that Obi-Wan would remain with his Master, and
that a Master/Padawan situation was not what was wanted.
Qui-Gon understood that they belonged together, but not as
anything other than equals, and that could not be until Obi-Wan
became a Knight. Only then. Qui-Gon had imagined, even
fanaticized, their meeting off Coruscant while the time passed,
on missions. He knew Yoda would see to it. They would have time
together in the next four years. Not enough, because anything
other than every day was not enough, but they would make time
for each other and Obi-Wan would push his limits and four years
might become three.
Obi-Wan simply could not leave his Master. Qui-Gon couldn't
possibly take the apprentice along until he became a Knight.
Not possibly. He'd lost one Padawan and he'd never lose
another. Never seeing Obi-Wan again was a million times better
than the last time he'd seen Xani.
He sat, leaning against his bush, briefly trying once to
contact Obi-Wan through their link, but it was shut to him,
blocking that light, that flame to which he had grown addicted.
He felt withdrawal beginning, and he began to tremble, pulling
up his knees and wrapping his arms around them as if to hold
himself together. The pain was eating, spreading. When
Obi-Wan's bush rattled a little and the blossoms disappeared,
he knew his lover was gone. The pain grew stronger, and some
dark part of him wished it would eat him alive.
The trip to Gallaria was long. Obi-Wan had remained mostly
silent, shields high, saying nothing of the pain that reached
into his soul. He was attentive to the briefing Master Sampris
gave him, read the data, already knew the language. His
leave-taking from Eli had almost undone him as Master Sam's son
clung to him, crying. But he was still so stunned by the scene
in the garden, it all seemed far away, like he was looking down
on himself.
The trip to Gallaria was long. Obi-Wan had remained mostly
silent, shields high, saying nothing of the pain that reached
into his soul. He was attentive to the briefing Master Sampris
gave him, read the data, already knew the language. His
leave-taking from Eli had almost undone him as Master Sam's son
clung to him, crying. But he was still so stunned by the scene
in the garden, it all seemed far away, like he was looking down
on himself.
When they left the Temple, he wondered if his Joxtrepia had
lost its blooms.
Master Sam kept him busy, not asking questions, always patient
when Obi-Wan's attention strayed. Three days in hyperspace and
with the cargo hold as their practice area, they were joined in
a paired kata, a dance for two, and one of Obi-Wan's favorites.
Lightsabers were at half -- dangerous but necessary -- and they
had done this kata hundreds of times. They had never done it
with Obi-Wan's shields up.
The opening moves were slow, a matter of holding each step,
perfect balance with lightsaber in hand. These were followed by
gradually increasing speed and movement, a simulated fight,
each thrust and parry carefully choreographed, requiring no
Force, just ability and concentration.
He had the ability, but not the concentration, and in one
spinning blow he was off just a fraction, his blade swinging
directly at his Master's chest. If Master Sam had been any less
skilled he would have been severely injured, but he managed to
stop his own forward motion a second before he was struck.
Horrified, Obi-Wan dropped his lightsaber and rushed forward.
"Master!! Are you hurt? Oh Force, I'm so sorry! Where are you
hurt? Let me see!"
Master Sam powdered down and let his apprentice pull aside his
singed tunics. "I'm all right, Obi-Wan. You didn't hurt me."
"There's a burn. Oh Master," Obi-Wan 's face was white. He
touched the mark and his Master grunted.
"It was my own fault," the older man said. "I should never have
allowed you to do this with your shields up and your
concentration shot to hell."
Obi-Wan's hands convulsively gripped the burned tunic. "Master,
forgive me. Please. I couldn't. . .I don't. . ."
Exasperated amusement was in Master Sam's voice. "There is
nothing to forgive, Obi. Come, we will go back to our quarters
and you will practice your healing techniques and then we're
going to have a discussion."
"Yes, Master." Almost a whisper.
Master Sam ruffled his Padawan's hair affectionately, "Cheer
up. Now come along."
Yoda stood in the garden, his ears up, sensing, then made his
way to the Joxtrepia bushes in the far corner. His former
apprentice was there, his robe making him all but invisible
against the dark green foliage. Qui-Gon was drawn up, arms
tightly wrapped around his legs, his face buried against his
knees.
Yoda watched him for a moment, remembering days gone by, when
Qui-Gon was still a child, so quick to be emotionally injured,
reacting to every imagined slight with intense pain. Even
before he had taken the youngster as his padawan learner, he
had watched him closely, in the creche, in nursery, in the
first novice classes. Big for his age,still clumsy, but always
gentle. Affectionate. Hugely intelligent for a human. Already
attuned to the Living Force.
When it was obvious he needed more, far sooner than his
companions, Yoda had taken him on, and for the next 17 years
they had rarely been apart. Yoda had seen his padawan endure
devastating illness, massive injury, the gradual shining
through of grace and knowledge. Qui-Gon soaked up the Force
like a sponge, loved his lessons for the sheer joy of learning
-- well most of his lessons anyway. Over the centuries Yoda had
taken many apprentices, and some were better fighters, and some
were brilliant negotiators, and others could feel and
manipulate the Force with finesse far beyond his own abilities;
but Qui-Gon Jinn was the only one who had all the qualities of
a true Jedi wrapped in a single package.
And Yoda had seen this position many times. When Qui-Gon was in
pain it was almost as if he tried to curl up inside himself.
Ears drooping, Yoda read the body language and felt the despair
radiating from the faintly trembling form. "Qui-Gon Jinn."
Qui-Gon raised his head, responding automatically to the order
in Yoda's voice. His eyes were red rimmed and swollen, and one
tear fell slowly down his cheek, unnoticed.
"Up you must get. To my rooms you will come. NOW."
"My Master, I don't think I can."
So many weaknesses humans had. Yoda's left ear went to
half-mast and Qui-Gon was raised to his feet and deposited
firmly on the ground. When the touch of Force let go he
staggered. Meeting Yoda's eyes, Qui-Gon took a breath and stood
straight. "Yes Master."
The burn across Master Sam's chest was healed and only a faint
mark remained. He sat in the room's one large chair, wearing
only his robe over leggings, powerfully muscled and serene,
watching his padawan tidy the area before going to sit, all
tension and grief, on the edge of the bunk. Sam did not speak
until Obi-Wan met his eyes.
"Obi, obviously something has gone terribly wrong with you and
Master Jinn."
Obi-Wan nodded. His shields were still up, as if he was
frightened to let them down.
"Everything was all right when you came back from the hidden
moon."
"Yes, Master."
"Apparently it went wrong when you found out we were leaving."
Obi-Wan nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.
Master Sam pursed his lips. He hated to interfere, but clearly
his padawan could not go on like this. He had never seen
Obi-Wan in such misery, not even when Castor Doannon had died.
That was three years ago now, on a planet far away from
Coruscant. Cas and his Master had been teamed with Sam and
Obi-Wan at Sam's request. The two young men were fast friends
and had been lovers for some time. He had wanted to see how
well they worked together, and it was good, if not seamless. It
was no one's fault that Cas had died. He had been helping one
of the outlying families caught in the natural disaster that
had swept the planet, and had caught a virus. There was no
immunity and no cure, and Obi-Wan had never left his bedside,
had to be forcibly pulled away when it was over. That had been
a bad time, but this was worse. This time Obi-Wan was so
tightly wound he would break if not released.
Sam considered. It was obvious what had happened. Obi-Wan
wanted to stay with Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon had quite correctly
said 'no.' Sam knew Qui-Gon, and he knew his padawan. Qui-Gon
had typically been somewhat short, probably even irritated, and
Obi had taken this for a rejection, probably building up any
number of reasons, all of them wrong. And he was now stewing in
some confused numbed state, heightened by the every-increasing
distance away from his lover. Sam was almost glad his
apprentice's shield were so strong and were up, because when
they came down Obi-Wan was going to feel real pain.
If there was one lesson in his life that Obi-Wan had never had
to face, it was rejection. He had always been a popular boy,
had basked in the love of a family with his Master and his
Master's wife, Master Jlia. As a teenager, he had skipped the
awkward stage for the most part, and his innate charm and
goodness had endeared him to almost everyone. He was excellent
at anything that interested him and willing to work hard to
help anyone who needed it. When he became sexually aware, other
than a faint crush on Jlia, he had automatically done the
acceptable thing and had experimented with his classmates.
Later he had found friends on their missions, and then suddenly
he was doing everything with Cas, and Cas alone. And then Cas
was gone, and for a long time Obi-Wan had kept to himself,
grieving but coping. He came out of that as well, and had been
happily back to himself for two years, his relationships brief,
but fulfilling. Until Qui-Gon Jinn had stepped into their
lives. No rejection ever. What a bitter pill this must be for
Obi-Wan -- however misunderstood. Oh my Padawan, Sam thought,
why must growing up be so painful?
Well, Obi-Wan must be made to comprehend, and in this case
there was nobody better than Sam, who knew some facts very few
of the other Masters did about Qui-Gon Jinn. With a mental
apology to Qui-Gon, Sam said, "Obi-Wan, I'm about to tell you a
story. This is a private matter, and I would not be telling you
this except you need to know so you will understand some
things."
Obi-Wan was looking at his clasped hands. He nodded.
Master Sampris sought for wisdom to find the right words. He
began, "Qui-Gon and I both gained our knighthood at about the
same time. We both took Padawans within a year -- I took on
Torley, as you know. He took Haska.. You remember Knight Haska,
we met her on that mission to Pomus 4."
Obi-Wan nodded, but remained silent.
"Haska was, and is, brilliant and beautiful and she was really
somewhat of a perfect padawan." Sam sat back in his chair and
crossed his ankles. "Because we were fairly newly Knighted we
were sent on fairly easy missions. It was easy to take along a
child. By the time we were going on more difficult assignments,
both Haska and Torley were quite able to join in. She was
Knighted along about the time Torley was Knighted. Qui-Gon took
his second apprentice almost immediately. I waited until you
came along."
Obi-Wan murmured, "He mentioned Haska. I didn't know he had a
second padawan."
"I'm not surprised. Qui-Gon took a human boy, named Xanatos."
"I don't think I've ever heard of him."
"No, and you won't either." Master Sam shifted, a little
uncomfortable with this part of the tale. "Xani was a beautiful
boy, and quite talented. A bit stand-offish, but Qui-Gon felt
he was just shy. I know he cared deeply for the boy."
Sam sighed. Obi-Wan was watching him now, interested. "As it
happened, I was doing my 'be one with the Council' rotation
when all of the events happened, so I know a lot more than most
do about it."
"Events?"
"You know that anytime I am assigned to a mission, it is up to
me to decide if you go with me? And you know why."
"You know better than anyone if I can handle the work, whether
I'm ready for whatever dangers might be involved."
"It didn't used to be that way. It used to be that the Council
decided whether the Padawan went with the Master."
Obi-Wan's eyes had widened a bit. "How can the Council make
that decision? I know you have to give reports of my progress,
but. . ."
"Exactly. But in those days. . ., well, things were different.
And it was during that time that Qui-Gon was assigned a mission
that had the potential to be very dangerous. I remember that he
accepted the mission without a qualm for himself, but when he
found out his padawan was to go along, he was adamant that Xani
wasn't ready. He fought the Council for hours, even tried to
refuse the assignment, but he was overruled. In their wisdom,
they felt Xani would benefit from the experience. In the end,
he reluctantly agreed."
"What happened?"
"Their ship was boarded by pirates and they were separated.
Qui-Gon was easily able to get away. Xani made the mistake of
making someone angry, and by the time Qui-Gon could get to him,
he was dead. If he'd had more experience, he would have been
all right. Qui-Gon was correct, he didn't have the knowledge
yet. Couldn't fight as well, couldn't use the Force as well.
There was nothing wrong with him, he just wasn't ready. He was
tortured first, Obi-Wan. Do you see?"
"Yes." It came as a slow whisper.
"Qui-Gon was devastated. They had a good training bond and he
knew, felt it all. He blamed himself. He blamed the Council. He
was angry." Master Sam closed his eyes remembering the stark
white face of his friend, the burning eyes and the fury. To say
Qui-Gon was angry was to say that it occasionally snowed on
Hoth. "When he returned to the Temple, he was beyond reasoning.
In the face of such a tragedy, the Council changed its policy,
but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He was so caught up in
his grief and anger he couldn't get past it."
"Oh, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan breathed.
Sam sat forward. "I've never seen anyone get so close to the
Dark side. Even Yoda couldn't help. Qui-Gon stayed in his rooms
during the day and wandered the Temple at night. He was like a
ghost, half-crazed, glaring at anyone brave enough to approach
him."
Obi-Wan tried to picture it and failed. His Qui-Gon was
controlled, serene, and there was no darkness in him. "What
happened, Master?"
"Yoda convened an Intervention."
Obi-Wan's head jerked up, stunned. An Intervention. They'd all
heard of the ceremony, of course, done as a last resort to
scour the Dark from the soul. It was feared and whispered
about, never actually practiced. It was an arcane ritual that
was studied, not worked. That it was done to his tranquil lover
was beyond his comprehension.
His Master's words were soft now. "Yoda brought in half the
Council, myself, Knight Haska, and two other Masters that did
not know Qui-Gon and were not emotionally involved. They were
both strong in the Force. It was done in the First Tower
chamber, the oldest room in the Temple, all stone, and lasted
for 36 standard hours."
He paused, then continued evenly, "It was primitive and brutal.
Mace Windu stood off to the side the whole time, almost lost in
the darkness, holding a knife. In case we failed, Qui-Gon would
be put to death rather than let him go to the Dark side."
Obi-Wan's face had gone whiter than seemed possible.
"He was chained to the old altar. We could not use Force
dampening because we needed to enter his mind and use Force to
do it. I was one of the ones that held the chains solid. Master
Poof, Ki-Adi-Mundi and Yoda performed the siege and broke down
his mental barriers." Master Sampris shook his head sadly. "It
was awful. He fought them and he is incredibly strong, but he
lost. I remember them holding his head so it wouldn't bash
against the altar. They broke down his barriers, Obi-Wan, and
he screamed."
Qui-Gon drank the tea Yoda gave him, sitting in his Master's
swampy room, on the ground by the log. Half of him had been
torn away, and he felt the ragged edges, somewhat surprised he
wasn't bleeding. Three days now and he had long ago given up
the hope that the pain would lessen. He had given himself
completely for the first time since Xani died, and this torture
of loss, of being blocked by his lover's shields, made even
breathing difficult.
Yoda sat on the log. He had watched over his former padawan,
carefully waiting, fearful that this first real test since the
Intervention would injure Qui-Gon beyond repair. But the
darkness had not returned. There was no anger there. There was
pain, but it was being borne with grace. This time love had
conquered.
He reached out and touched Qui-Gon's hair. "This will not last.
Seen it, I have. Meant to be together you are."
"He won't let me in."
"Knows you belong together, he does. Needs time, he does."
"Was I wrong, Master? I could not take him with me, could I?"
"Not wrong in your decision. Wrong in your method, maybe."
Qui-Gon took a beep breath. "Why didn't he understand? He knows
how I feel. He KNOWS."
"Knows, he does. Young, he is. Time not yet unending for him.
Learn, he will."
Qui-Gon nodded, sipped his tea and tried to remember to
breathe.
Obi-Wan lay quietly in his bunk, hands folded over his chest,
staring into the darkness. What must it have been like for
Qui-Gon? To essentially be mind-raped by his own Master? To
have his former padawan be a part of it? To be so angry and so
close to the Dark that his life hung in the balance?
Master Sam had talked to him for a long time. The story of the
Intervention was horrifying, like one of the old terror vids
that frightened him as a child. Dark dungeons, candlelight,
flickering shadows, a naked man chained to an altar, being
tortured. The Intervention had worked in the end. His Master
said it was because Qui-Gon had walked in the Light his whole
life and because he believed. The Darkness lifted out of him
like a tangible black wave, malodorous, suffocating, and had
been pushed up and out, dissipated by the collective Force of
Masters.
Qui-Gon was unconscious. Rather than be taken to Healers, he
was brought to Yoda's rooms. 'Knows this place,' Yoda had said.
'Feel safe here, he will.'
Qui-Gon had recovered, but he had changed. Master Sampris had
known him well in the days before that fatal mission, and he
spoke of a laughing, friendly man, forever getting into scrapes
as an initiate and padawan, sometimes on purpose because he'd
then be assigned to kitchen duty and the cooks all adored him.
He was large and somewhat clumsy as a boy, always hungry, and
the cooks fed him all his favorite foods while he peeled tabers
and listened to their gossip. As a Knight, he was beloved to
the students as he was always willing to teach, to help, to
lend an ear. Taking Haska had only added to his rich life, but
his time with Xanatos was far too short.
Obi-Wan shifted a little, staying quiet so as not to wake his
Master in the bunk on the other side of the room. His master
had sent him to bed, telling him not to meditate, but to just
think about it, let his mind go where it would. He was trying
to connect what he had learned to the Jedi Master he knew. He
didn't remember ever meeting Qui-Gon during his student days.
Certainly the Jedi Master had never taught a class he was in.
He'd have remembered. But he had heard of him. They all talked
about him. Master Jinn had led the victory in the hyperspace
wars, had negotiated the Plont Treaty, and was generally
considered to be the most gifted lightsaber fighter since
Master U'llias 300 years before. The quintessential Jedi
Warrior.
When Master Sampris had taken Obi-Wan on, it meant he was
rarely back on Coruscant. There had been one period, four
months, when Master Sam was on a mission deemed too dangerous
for his padawan (and he had Qui-Gon to thank for that
apparently). But that was the longest and Master Jinn had not
been in residence. Obi-Wan smiled faintly into the darkness. He
wouldn't have noticed anyway. Eli had just arrived and Master
Jlia was ill, so most of the baby care had been his. He didn't
have a second to himself, but now he and Eli had a special
relationship all their own.
Master Jinn was the one they sent on the secret missions,
Chancellor Valorum's favorite. He negotiated the impossible
settlements, brought peace to planets that had warred for
centuries. He dealt in matters so secret and dangerous that
most of the time no one seemed to know where he was or what he
was doing. Legend material.
And then, just two weeks ago, he had walked into Obi-Wan's life
and for some reason the Force had brought them together with
almost violent passion. One look into deep blue eyes and he had
known that his life was irrevocably tied with this Master.
And Qui-Gon had thought so, too. Or he THOUGHT so anyway.
Doubts came flooding back. How could he have believed he was
any sort of match for the great Qui-Gon Jinn? He was a Padawan
with years to go. If nothing else he would bore his lover to
death. There was nothing about him but a fairly nice face and
body that could interest this particular Jedi Master. Nothing.
The better he knew Qui-Gon, the deeper his love and admiration
had grown. Did Qui-Gon feel the same? He wasn't a man given to
talking about his feelings, but surely there had been signs.
How many times had they claimed each other? Every day. Every
night. In words, and deeds. How many times had Qui-Gon said
roughly, "MY Obi-Wan"? For a moment he remembered. Those hands,
all over him, the way Qui-Gon smiled with his eyes, the way he
ate berries and drank Aldaranian wine. His touch, wrapping his
long arms around his young lover, offering security and
passion. And love?
Obi-Wan again tried to equate his own memories with what Master
Sam had told him, tried to imagine a Qui-Gon tainted with the
Dark, and failed.
A new thought came from nowhere. What if Qui-Gon HAD taken him?
What if Obi-Wan had been pulled away from Master Sam and taken
along on Qui-Gon's next mission? And this brought another
thought. What if he wasn't ready to go with Qui-Gon? He still
had much to learn. Could Qui-Gon effectively train him? Could
there be a division between lover and student? Could he take
instruction from a man who turned him on just by the crinkle of
his eyes or, Sith hells, just by walking into a room?
A tortured thought: What if he let Qui-Gon down? What if
Qui-Gon was injured or killed because of his mistake? Obi-Wan
shifted, feeling guilty and then terrified over a nebulous
fantasy. It took his breath away.
He moved deliberately away from that scenario. Turned it
around. What if the same thing happened to him that had
happened to Xanatos? Obi-Wan did not fear death, but what would
his death, or even his injury, mean to Qui-Gon? And he knew,
with sudden absolute certainty that Qui-Gon would be lost. And
with that knowledge came the certainty that Qui-Gon loved him.
Oh Force.
He remembered that final scene in the garden. The pain in
Qui-Gon's face, the words that were harsh, and now he
understood.
Obi-Wan lay quietly on his bunk, eyes wide open, staring into
the darkness.
Early hours, just before dawn on Coruscant. Qui-Gon had tried
sleeping again, but could not manage to get more than a hour of
rest before the pain flooded back, and even that was useless
due to the dreams. Obi-Wan's face, his body, the sound of his
ecstatic moan. Even the bed smelled of him and Qui-Gon had been
unwilling to change the sheets. It was here that Obi-Wan had
cataloged his body, apparently delighted by the strangest
things, like the wrinkles around his eyes and his workman's
hands. Or the mole on his right flank, somewhat ticklish, and
turned into an erotic focus just because Obi-Wan loved to lick
at it.
He'd handled it badly. He would apologize. Explain. He'd gladly
open up his past if it would help. He could stand the distance
between them, would wait forever, but the pain came from not
being allowed connection with Obi-Wan. While those shields were
up he was cut off entirely, and it was breaking him apart.
Qui-Gon turned on his side, eyes wide open, staring into
nothing.
"Obi-Wan."
The hand on his shoulder woke him. Obi-Wan stretched, stifling
a groan. He had lain awake for so long, he was stiff from not
moving. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bunk.
Sam eyed him for a moment. "Did you think about things,
Padawan?"
"Yes, Master."
Sam did not ask what conclusions he had come to. His apprentice
looked exhausted and his shields were still high.
Obi-Wan stood, stretching again, this time from head to foot,
arms over his head. His sleep pants, worn and meticulously
mended, slid down, barely catching on his hip bones. Bending
forward, his legs straight, his palms went flat on the floor
where the vague sensation of the ship's engines thrummed.
Standing upright, he asked, "Breakfast Master?"
"After meditation."
Obi-Wan obediently fetched the mats and they spread them as
they did every morning, facing each other. They knelt.
"Today I want you to meditate on love."
"Master?"
"Love, my Padawan." Master Sampris reached out a hand and
fondly caressed his pale cheek. "What is love? What are its
obligations? What different kinds of love there are. . .and
what is true love? How do you know it? What would you do for
it? What wouldn't you do? Are you ready for it? Do you even
want it? Can you cope with it, give it wholeheartedly?"
Obi-Wan met his gaze, his expression confused. "Y-yes, Master."
Master Sam's hand still lingered and he tapped Obi-Wan's nose.
"It's a meditation, Obi-Wan, not a funereal threnody."
Nodding, Obi-Wan began to breathe, long and slow, sinking
easily into himself. He cleared his thoughts, and checked his
shields automatically. Still up and without chinks. He'd never
had to shield himself for this long before. . .never had needed
to before.
Breathe. In. Out. Surroundings melting until there was nothing
around him but Force. He waited until he was deeply nestled
into that Force, but now he could see it behind his closed
eyes. Warm strands began to envelope him, and it felt the same,
but now it was real -- a gift given him on the hidden moon. One
of so many gifts. . .
The nature of love? What is it? Nothing came to him.
All right. Who did he love? Master Sam, of course. Master JLia,
and Eli. Different feelings for different people. All of whom
loved him. He'd been showered in it his whole life. And his
cherished Cas, who had joined the Force just three years ago.
And Cas had loved him, too. Theirs had been a sweet, almost
innocent love. It might have deepened, but when Cas had gone,
it had been the loss of his dearest friend, not a life-mate,
that had filled him with grief. If he reached out, Cas would be
there, in the infinite universe that he would join one day as
well.
He floated for awhile, thinking of Cas, remembering little
moments of love between himself and others. The Force strands
held him, changing color, sliding away and back, always a
secure cradle. As a toddler he'd gotten lost in the Temple and
had been found by someone tall, wearing a long dark robe. He
had been held and comforted and sweetly kissed. That period
when he had become aware of Master Sampris, large and skilled
and kind, watching him in the practice rooms. He had been so
small then, and nothing coordinated. But Master Sam had moved
to correct his stance and after that the kata had flowed; and
then he had been chosen, and he remembered to the second the
first time his Master had looked at him with pride and love.
And Master Jlia. He had watched, fascinated, as Master Sam fell
in love with the beautiful Master Jlia, had even had a small
crush on her himself for a short time. Years later Master Sam's
eyes still softened when he gazed on Jlia.
And Eli. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had always
considered Eli as his own Padawan-to-be. With his Master gone,
he had filled the proper place when Jlia had gone into labor
early. He had called the Healers as soon as he saw the blood,
and there was no time for the breathing exercises he had been
taught to encourage just in case his Master wasn't available
when the event began. There hadn't been much time for anything
except to follow Jlia's whispered instructions. And when Eli
arrived, lifeless and blue, he had been the one to breathe into
the baby, terrified of the look of despair on Jlia's face. It
hadn't taken much. A couple of breaths, then a dim light that
quite abruptly burst into being as he opened the baby's lungs.
With his robe as a hasty blanket for Eli, the Healers found him
holding the baby in one arm, his other hand on Jlia's belly, as
he tried to use Force to slow her bleeding. His Master told him
later that if Jlia had been alone, both she and Eli would have
died.
His inner self smiled as he remembered.
Qui-Gon sat curled up on his large sofa, trying to read from
his datapad. Chancellor Valorum wanted information from his
last mission, details about personalities, and Qui-Gon was
trying to comply. He couldn't concentrate. He had tried sitting
on the balcony in the climate controlled breeze, but all he
could think about was Obi-Wan and the evening they had spent
together, eating under the moons and barely visible stars,
drinking wine and telling each other stories about their
missions. He'd never been so happy.
His memories did not help answer Valorum's questions. So he had
come inside, meditated, forced himself to focus. He must
accept. He must wait. He must love Obi-Wan enough to let him
go, forever if need be. But surely not, surely not. . .
Obi-Wan's meditation went forward as the colorful Force strands
wove around and through his body. His master's presence, the
ship, time itself faded as he submerged further into himself.
Qui-Gon loved him. As strange as it seemed, this beautiful,
powerful Jedi Master loved him. Then why, WHY had Qui-Gon
pushed him away? Or had he? Confused, Obi-Wan reverted to his
Master's instructions. It was time to examine his own feelings.
He let his thoughts go where they may and what immediately rose
to the surface was his love for Qui-Gon. There, shining in
front of him, so far more luminous than any other person in his
life. His strength and passion and his sheer joy in the Living
Force. Obi-Wan felt a shiver go through him. How could he live
up to such a legend? Was he really ready to love and be loved?
Could there be a future with Qui-Gon Jinn? Could he live up to
the mountainous standards already set? Did he even want to try?
Yes, oh yes. He could learn, faster, harder. There was no try
-- he would DO. Qui-Gon loved him for exactly who he was and it
had never occurred to Obi-Wan to be anything else. So what
would being a Knight to Qui-Gon's Master be like? Qui-Gon
fairly oozed alpha male. Obi-Wan knew himself and he was not
shy about admitting that the older and more experienced he
became, the more aware he was that he was going to be of the
same type. Could such a relationship work?
It had to. Because that was where he needed to be -- with
Qui-Gon. He remembered their short time together. Qui-Gon had
no problems letting him lead -- in conversation, in so many
little ways, and in sex. And when Qui-Gon wanted something,
Obi-Wan had been happy to see that he got it. Wasn't that part
of love? To be pleased to make the loved one happy? To trust. .
.?
And that was it, wasn't it? Not just love, trust. One of the
obligations. And if he trusted Qui-Gon, then he had to accept
that Qui-Gon knew best about things that concerned Qui-Gon.
Rather like his own relationship with Eli. Sometimes Eli wanted
things that could hurt him. And yet Obi-Wan would refuse Eli,
because he knew best. If little Eli wanted to go on a mission,
he would not be allowed because he wasn't ready for it. . .and
with the type of missions Qui-Gon was sent on. . .
Obi-Wan's thoughts flowed, cushioned in his nest of ever-moving
Force strands, and gradually his shields began to crumble.
On Coruscant, Qui-Gon Jinn was helping with a group of
initiates, fractionally correcting stance and flow,
demonstrating correct positioning. He stood behind a tall girl,
smiling a little, remembering so long ago, when he had been the
tallest one in the class.
The sensation started gradually, Force strands moving,
something coming towards him. Qui-Gon glanced around, frowning.
No one else seemed to feel it. But he did. And the warmth of it
was growing. He caught one of the other Master's eye and nodded
toward the initiate he had been helping, turned and left the
practice arena as fast as his long stride could take him.
He had barely made it to his quarters, still unsure what was
happening, when the flood hit him. There was no fighting the
sensations that washed over him; nothing he could do but
collapse on the floor and let it happen. He fell into a fetal
position with a gasping sob, then slowly began to unwind. The
feelings shook him to his core, rearranged his soul, and filled
the empty places in his heart. And amidst it all, he began to
smile.
His shields were self-demolished and the first thing he felt
was pain. Terrible emptiness, as if something was being ripped
out of him. Obi-Wan groaned, meditated center gone, and
instantly he was pulled forward and a voice in his head
ordered, "Breathe."
So trained and trusting in that voice, if his Master had told
him to die, he probably would have. He took a deep breath and
became aware of being clasped in strong arms, held as Master
Sam bled off the worst of the pain.
"Stay with me, Padawan," Sam ordered. "You're getting a taste
of the separation of a bond. You were shielded before -- and I
doubt Qui-Gon is shielded at all, so you're getting your own
pain, and his as well. It's all right. No, no, don't shield.
I'm here. This will get better. Relax, Obi-Wan. Let it happen.
. ."
Gradually the pain eased, not going away, but no longer
unbearable. Obi-Wan took another deep breath, shuddering.
Master Sam said, in his ear, "Now let him know what you feel
for him. Just let him know."
Obi-Wan gasped, "I don't know how! I don't. . .I can't. . ."
"Just think about him, Padawan. That's all you have to do. What
you worked out in your meditation -- picture Qui-Gon in your
mind and let your feelings go to him."
"We're light years away!" Obi-Wan struggled briefly, but was
held quiet.
"It doesn't matter." Master Sam remained calm. "He'll know.
Just do as I say and wait. You'll understand in a minute."
Obi-Wan concentrated, projecting all the love, the rightness of
their being together, his willing acceptance of whatever their
futures might be into the Force, shoving it toward his mental
image of Qui-Gon. He could feel his Master's hand on his head,
gentle but firm, adding energy, drawing it away, until Obi-Wan
began to do it for himself.
A long pause, then softly, with infinite care, it came back to
him, and he knew it was from his lover as sure as if Qui-Gon
was in the room: unbounding love, acceptance, belief in Obi-Wan
and in their bond. Unlike his own blind push of emotion to
Qui-Gon, this slowly filled him, gentler, more controlled, but
just as strong. And it didn't recede. There was no backwash.
It was the most incredible thing he'd ever known.
Master Sam let him go and Obi-Wan turned to smile at him.
"Master? I would like to use the com."
"Yes, Padawan. I think that would be wise."
Qui-Gon sat in the middle of the floor, cross-legged, hands on
knees. The pain of separation was there, but it was far
outweighed by the warmth of unconditional love and the flame of
insatiable desire coming from so far away. He basked in it with
no sense of time passing, soaking it up, sending it back,
careful not to overwhelm what was still a fragile bond.
They had time now. Everything would be all right. They had time
and they would be together.
Only the sound of his com link, urgent signal, roused him.
Blinking, coming back into focus, he rose in one graceful
movement and went to the desk. Without hesitation, he connected
the com link to the vid screen.
Obi-Wan appeared, tousled, hair spikey and tunic rumpled. He
was grinning from ear to ear. Qui-Gon thought he was the most
beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
Obi-Wan didn't waste time. "You are right, my Qui-Gon. MY
Qui-Gon."
Archive 