Master Apprentice Archive Fates-Clotho Quick search:

Fates-Clotho

by Leandra and Raina

Pairing: Q/O , Romance, AU, Drama

Disclaimer: We don't own Qui-Gon Jinn or Obi-Wan Kenobi, but we own Padawan Quiggs and Padawan Ben.

Series: First part in a series of fics all taking place in the same Alternate Universe. The series will be called "Fates" for reasons that will be clear as time passes.

Archive: yes please, M_A; nuttersinc (elsewhere please ask for distribution)

Rating: Pg-13

Feedback: If it's not too much trouble. Flames off-list, please ;-)

Summary: There's a new Padawan in town.

Spoilers: None, since this is rather AU.

Notes: This started off as a cute little PWP (all because Lea wanted to write Sub!Qui) , then two plot bunnies met, fell in love, merged and created one huge bunny that spawned an Universe, of which this fic is the first installment.

The title refers to the ancient Greek goddesses of destiny, the three Fates. The first one, who spins the thread of every human's life, is called Clotho.

In this fic, Obi-Wan is 19 and Qui-Gon is 20.

Thank you's: to Tem-ve, our Beta, as usual for her excellent work, and to the country and people of Scotland who provided a lot of inspiration.

Prologue

The bazaar was buzzing with bright colours, exotic smells and life forms from every corner of the galaxy. A constant stream of people pressed through the narrow streets between the stands where merchants offered their goods, their shouts producing a permanent hum, the sound of at least 4 different kinds of music filling the air. At a kitchen stand, a corpulent Twi'lek woman raised the lid of a huge cauldron, revealing a stream of hot vapour the smell of which caused the passers-by to hurry past it, holding their breath and not daring to inhale.

"Bantha-stew! Only 2 republics. Best Bantha-stew ye could find on tis side o' th' galaxy!", she advertised the smelly content in a broad local brogue.

Nearby, a tiny girl with olive skin and almond-shaped eyes sold pieces of Alderaan candy, the sticky pieces dripping with the sweet honey of the man-high Sirlak trees that grew in the Alderaanian grasslands. Next to her two Phindian males were fighting over a handmade Roonian carpet, outbidding each other until the price reached a ridiculous sum.

The narrow path leading through Treasure Ship Row opened into a small square where the noisiest and most diverse of all markets had laid its scene. Here the merchandise was not spice or carpets, here one traded in lives.

On the wooden planks of hurriedly erected stages, about fifteen undernourished life forms awaited their being sold to the highest bidder, the look in their eyes haunted. Mace Windu hid his disgust at the spectacle before him with difficulty. Only years of experience and the discipline of a lifetime helped him to keep the revulsion from his even features.

Mace bit the inside of his cheek when his Huttese contact made a lewd joke about one of the female slaves. He had a mission, after all. And it wouldn't help his investigation if he angered the slavers with open show of petty inconsequentials like a conscience.

He sighed inwardly. His mission statement had been simple enough. Huttese slavers had been caught with a whole shipload of Force- sensitive slaves, most of them children and Jedi potentials. His job was to find out how the Hutts managed to identify and capture so many Force-sensitives and where they kept their prisoners, and therefore he had to pose as a potential buyer.

He skimmed the assembly that was waiting for the auctions to start and swallowed his anger at one particular slimy Huttese slaver, who harshly tugged on the chain of a young female Zeltron slave with fairy features. As his eyes trailed over the crowd, he felt a slight tremor in the Force, a presence that was faintly familiar. With a mental shake, he dismissed the feeling. He didn't have time to investigate it now in any case.

Suddenly there was movement at the far end of the square, and one of the Hutts who had climbed on the stage to start the auction with a well known Huttese ceremony ­ biting off the legs of a fresh mynock and spitting the chewed meat on a gong ­ barked a sharp order to one of his comrades. When the disturbance ­ two young Selotins who had found themselves in a fight with mean-looking Corellian humans ­ was taken care of, he proceeded with his ceremony.

The bidding started before the leg even hit the floor, so eager were the slavers to get their coveted merchandise and be on their way again.

Shortly after the bidding had started and no one on the square paid Windu and his small group of Huttese slavers any heed, the Jedi Master found himself surrounded by six heavily armed guards who all pointed heavy laser rifles at him. Obviously his disguise hadn't been as successful as he'd assumed.

His Huttese contact growled, "We don't have much sympathy for you Republic Security people. Now go along quietly, or you'll end up getting your entrails fried."

Windu took a deep breath and centred himself in the Force. He knew if he had any chance at escape, it had to be now, when his identity as a Jedi was still unknown. Once they searched him and found his lightsaber, it would be over. Besides, in the chaos of the market it would be difficult for the Huttese guards to chase him.

As soon as the guards had aimed their lasers at Windu and his companions, one of them cried out in agonised pain and dropped his laser. The others ­ momentarily distracted by their companion's distress - whirled around to see the cause. Lightsabres flashed and cut down two more of Windu's opponents. Using the guards' distraction to his advantage, Windu called his lightsaber to his hand and threw himself into battle.

Windu didn't stop to question his rescuers. He'd recognised one as soon as he'd set eyes on him and he had a pretty good idea who the other one was.

The three men Force-jumped onto a platform to draw the fire away from innocent bystanders.

"Long time no see, Windu. Seems I still have to get your ass out of trouble," the elder of the two other Jedi grinned at Mace from under his hood.

"Bur! What the Seven Hells of Sith are you doing here? I thought you were dead."

"Not quite dead. Very much alive, you old bastard."

Mace deflected a laser bolt and took a quick look at the younger of the two Jedi that had come to his rescue. The man turned his face towards him, as if he had sensed Mace's gaze on him and offered him a cheeky smile.

"Your apprentice, I assume," Mace said.

Rob nodded. "Sorry, I don't think we have time for introductions."

Rob-Ma Bur was one of Windu's oldest friends. They'd been Initiates together and had remained friends until Rob's unconventional thinking and behaviour had estranged him from the Order and he had withdrawn to Corellia.

Windu smiled in delight. "Rob, you haven't changed a bit."

"Stop talking, Windu. You always were a chatterbox. That's why you are on the Council, not me. Concentrate on the here and now. Time for friendly banter later," the other man said good-humouredly.

Mace grimaced. One of the many reasons, my friend, he thought to himself, but they didn't have time for a philosophical debate on the Jedi C ode any more than they had time for friendly banter.

Rob turned and deflected a blaster bolt, and Windu did the same. The three Jedi covered each other's backs, working together as one, the Force flowing strong between them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mace saw two Hutts aiming a rocket launcher at the very platform they were standing on.

"Jump!" he yelled a warning at his companions shortly before a high- pitched noise heralded the fast approach of a missile. Surrounding himself with the Force, he jumped and then the world around him exploded in heat and thunder as the rocket hit the platform behind them.

He didn't allow himself the luxury of pain as he landed, spinning around as soon as his feet hit the ground and deflecting a blaster bolt that had been aimed at his head.

He came to his feet immediately and looked for his companions. Two members of the CorSec, the Corellian Security forces, were running towards them, despite the thick smoke and the bystanders that fled in the other direction, crying.

He whirled around again when he heard a desperate scream, laced with fear and outright panic, "Master!"

Mace swallowed as his eyes fell on Rob's still form on the ground and his apprentice bent over his injured Master. He didn't need to be a healer to see even at a distance that Rob was dead.

In the chaos that had broken out after the missile had hit, the Huttese slavers had lost sight of them in the crowd and he used that circumstance to head over to the young man, who was kneeling in the dirt next to his fallen Master.

Windu knew from experience that nothing he could say now would help the young man or even reach him, so he just laid a hand on the Padawan's shoulder in silent support.

A tear-streaked face looked up at him, bottom lip quivering, the intense blue eyes clouded with despair. Windu tightened his grip on the youngster's shoulders, projecting understanding and comfort to him. The young man swallowed once, then raised his arm and wiped his face with the fabric of his sleeve. When he looked up again, his expression was determined.

"It seems we have unfinished business to attend to." the young man pressed through gritted teeth and pointed at a few Huttese guards who had caught up with them.

"Well, then let's finish it." Windu said and raised his lightsaber once more.

Obi-Wan Kenobi took a last look into the mirror and with a small frown reopened the last inches of his braid and braided it thoroughly before he attached the dark green ribbon again. When he was finally content with the appearance of his braid he checked his clothing one last time. Soft olive green suede clung to his body in all the right places, outlining the lean muscles in his torso and on his thighs. He knew that he should not be proud of being so narcissistic, but he couldn't help but feel content with his appearance.

Those highly treasured evenings out with other Padawans from the Coruscant temple were rare and he had been looking forward to the opportunity to meet old friends and make new acquaintances for a while now, especially after that last rather boring "mission" in the Minos Cluster which had actually consisted of carrying Master Yoda around on his back while crawling through the swamps of that miserable planet called Dagobah.

His Master Yoda had been called to Coruscant to attend some very important Council meetings the purpose of which were a well-kept secret in the Jedi temple. Rumours said that these urgent meetings concerned Council member and Jedi Master Mace Windu, who had brought a young man with him from his latest trip to the not so far away merchants' planet of Corellia. The identity of that young man was not yet confirmed, but rumours had it that he was a strong Force user and that the meetings might be held to discuss the future life of said young man.

Nobody had seen him or spoken to him yet but already the very well equipped information system among the Padawans, fed by certain remarks they gathered from their Masters, had helped to establish a myth about a savage-looking tall youth who had saved Master Windu's life when he had been attacked during difficult negotiations with Huttese slavers.

Just like all the other Padawans in the temple, Obi-Wan was very curious to encounter the mysterious man and had tried to pry information from his Master, which was a difficult task as Master Yoda was very serious when confronted with matters of temple security. Obi-Wan had no idea how this young man could be a threat to the security at the temple, but he knew better than to press his Master any further if he declined to share information with his Padawan.

His musings were interrupted by his friend Bant, whose shell-covered blue dress gave her approaching soundly away long before she entered his room.

"Obi-Wan are you ready?" she asked, poking her head in, the familiar fishy smell that accompanied her everywhere coming off her in waves.

He nodded and turned around to her with a smile on his face. "Hi Bant. How do I look?"

She regarded him with her huge eyes, then giggled. "Ravishing... you know Kenobi, if we weren't the best of friends...," she began.

"... and our races were compatible...," Obi-Wan threw in, approaching her with two huge steps.

She giggled again. "...then I would think about dragging you back into my quarters myself," she concluded with a huge grin and looked up at him.

"And if I loved fish...," Obi-Wan retorted teasingly and earned a slap to his guts before he could finish the sentence.

"You look great Bant," he said seriously and traced the outlines of the shell chain around her neck.

"Thanks. Now let's go. The others are waiting and I suppose if we don't arrive in time, there might be no tables left. And I know how you hate to stand in a dark corner where nobody could admire your beauty."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her. "Cheeky fish," he chided,smiling.

She laughed again. "Retarded human."

"Kenobi? Eerin? Come on. We don't have time for your games." Dun, a tall Twi'lek Padawan, called through the corridor, receiving a stern look from a passing Master.

He blushed furiously and mumbled an apology. "I know... I know. No running and yelling in the Masters' tower.." He earned another grim stare and decided to better shut up before he got himself into trouble for showing disrespect to an elder.

"We'd better go before Dun gets himself into detention." Bant remarked cheerfully, grasped Obi-Wan's arm, and dragged him out of the quarters he shared with Master Yoda to save Dun from any mistakes he was about to make.

When they entered the club it was already packed, but thanks to their friend Seda who had occupied a large table and defended it against a long line of Padawans waiting to catch a seat they could take their seats on the balcony overlooking the dance floor, where different species were already swaying to the beat of an Antarian folk band.

"Thank the Force you are here," Seda sighed and fell back into the cushioned couch. "I could not have held them off any longer. They were starting to get pushy," she said, pointing at a group of senior Padawans leaning on the railing staring disapprovingly at the late-comers who had a seat reserved.

"Stupid Sen Pack. Always thinking they own that place here," Dun murmured and dropped his body next to Seda.

"Don't let them hear you," Bant whispered. "They might be offended. And you know how they call us... Greenhorns..."

"Well Kenobi is very green today," Dun remarked dryly, provoking laughter from the others.

"Say that again and I'll choke you until you are blue in the face. Oh wait! You are already blue in the face..." Obi-Wan shot back cheerfully.

"Oh my, those speciesist remarks... Kenobi, that stay on Dagobah with Master Yoda must have been really bad for your manners." Seda's remark drew another round of laughter from the Padawans.

Obi-Wan gave Seda a lopsided grin, then surveyed the area below, scanning the crowd for familiar faces.

"Yes, indeed. Master Yoda's so-called vacations, which mainly consist of wading through knee-high mud and listening to his constant picking can do that to a person, " he said distractedly, still watching the moving bodies on the dance floor.

Bant leaned forward and rested her head on the railing next to Obi- Wan. "Seeing something you like?" she asked lazily.

Obi-Wan squinted against the flashing lights that illuminated the room and a concentrated look appeared on his features.

"Maybe."

"Where?" she asked, more out of politeness than out of actual interest.

His eyes never leaving the far end of the dance floor, he pointed towards a tall figure leaning against the wall in a dark corner.

"Who is that?" Bant asked, suddenly interested, squinting as well as she tried to make out the features of the person standing in the shadows.

"I have no idea." He paused, and Bant shuddered when she saw the predatory gleam in his eyes. She knew that gleam too well. "But I will."

He raised abruptly, knocking over a half-full glass the waiter had forgotten to put away when they had cleared the table earlier, its content spilling over Seda's lap.

"Oh Seven Hells of Sith!" she cursed and jumped aside, knocking her elbow into Dun's ribs.

"Seems like Kenobi has found another victim," Dun remarked, grimacing, and rubbed his ribs.

Meanwhile Seda tried to clean her lap with a handkerchief, a futile attempt. "If you were walking in his shoes you would act just like him every time you see a handsome person with whom you are sexually compatible. I still suppose his above-average sex drive results from the fact that he was never able to develop the healthy Padawan crush in his early teens."

"Huh?"

"Yoda," she explained.

"Ugh." His head-tails shuddered in disgust.

Seda finished cleaning her lap and winced a little at the cold spot that still remained. "So Kenobi, who is it this time?"

"He doesn't know. You can't even see his target in the dark." Bant said.

"Where is that stupid waiter? I need a drink." Dun barked, clearly not interested in the conversation.

"You mean, you can't even make out if it is a guy or a girl?" Seda asked and leaned forward conspiratorially.

Bant nodded. "Right. You can't even say if he or she is any good looking at all."

"He has that special aura to him," Obi-Wan dropped in. "If you'll excuse me..." He turned around and left his companions, strolling towards the stairs that led down to the dance floor.

"Obi-Wan! How do you even know that it's a he?" Seda called after him, but got no reply.

"Aura." Dun snorted, then cried out: "I want my beer."

"Maybe it's an it," Bant speculated with a sly grin.

"Aura. My ass."

Slowly Obi-Wan made his way down the stairs, his eyes never leaving the tall figure hidden in the shadows on the opposite side of the room. A month on that mud-hole Dagobah with Yoda as his only companion had left him with a huge desire to indulge in hedonistic encounters with other human beings. He was determined to get what he wanted, but he would get it with style. Style was something Obi-Wan Kenobi valued a lot.

His sexual encounters might be short-lived but he made sure to draw as much pleasure from the hunting, as well as from the actual act itself. Hunting down his chosen victim, seducing them , making them yield to his wishes was something he enjoyed even more than having them in his bed. It was a game to him, a game he was very good at, he admitted with self-confidence.

His eyes had never left the unmoving figure, and he approached on target with a self-confident stride, knowing very well that his every move was already being watched. The section of the room he approached was very dark, too dark to actually make out features or small movements, but he could feel eyes on him, studying him intently.

He slid into the darkness and settled himself next to the tall youth he was going to seduce tonight, leaning his back casually on the cool wall behind him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and let his eyes drift over the youngsters enjoying themselves on the dance floor. While he seemed to study the movement going on in front of his eyes, he was actually taking in the presence of the young man next to him. His Force signature was strong, but felt like nothing Obi-Wan had encountered before. There was an unfamiliar feel to it, a certain instability, something unsettling. It send a tingle up Obi-Wan's spine. Very interesting, he thought to himself, and considered himself lucky. Truly a challenge.

Just when he was about to open his mouth to start a conversation with a conventional remark about the music (not very original, but it usually worked), the young man next to him said, amusement swinging in his voice, "I don't appreciate it very much when people are poking at my shields without introducing themselves."

Obi-Wan masked his surprise well and turned to the speaker, offering a smile and his outstretched hand. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said.

His hand was taken and squeezed briefly. "Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Am I allowed to poke at your shields now ?" Obi-Wan asked boldly, thinking it best to go into offensive immediately.

"It wouldn't be very polite, would it?" the stranger answered. "Besides, I can't imagine what you could find out that you wouldn't be able to learn through polite questions. Despite the fact you would never get behind my shielding."

"You have a point. I apologise for intruding. I was just curious. You seem to be here on your own..."

"Yes," the other stated simply.

"I thought you might want some company. This club can be pretty boring if you just stand around in the dark corner all night long." Obi-Wan kept his tone casual and slightly uninterested.

"I'm content with observing people."

With a suggestive smile, Obi-Wan turned to him and let his gaze sweep over Qui-Gon from head to toe. He was still not able to make out the other man's features, but somehow he didn't mind. Qui-Gon Jinn seemed to be a nice distraction from his usual encounters in the clubs of Coruscant, of that he was sure.

"Me too."

Contentedly, he noticed Qui-Gon squirming under his investigating gaze.

"Do you dance?" he asked, inching a little bit closer so that his arm brushed the other man's. He could feel the heat emanating from Qui-Gon's body through his soft tunic, a warmth that made him slightly dizzy.

"No."

"What a pity. Otherwise I could drag you out of that dark corner to see your face. You know, it isn't very polite to talk to someone you can't even make out in the dark."

"All for politeness...," Qui-Gon said. "I guess if I told you that it was your choice to approach me in the first place, that wouldn't make a huge impression on you," he continued and turned towards Obi-Wan.

Caught! Obi-Wan thought, now clearly amused. Well, if the cards were on the table that was okay for him too. It would maybe accelerate things.

"Well, dark places could have their advantages too..." he started and raised a hand to trail his fingers down the other man's chest.

"Ahhhh... my beer. Finally." Dun cheered and grabbed the glass the waiter had put in front of him with a content sigh.

"Can you make out anything?" Seda asked Bant who was staring at the spot where Obi-Wan had vanished into the dimness of the opposite side of the room.

Bant shook her head. "No. I can't really see a thing."

"Oh." Seda sounded disappointed.

"Wait..." Bant suddenly exclaimed, excited.

"Oh. It seems like Obi-Wan wasn't lucky... if this was his prey." She pointed at a tall man who stepped out of the shadows and crossed the hall in long strides.

"Seems like Kenobi's lost his usual charm in the swamps of Dagobah."

"Dun!" Seda chided and nudged the Padawan next to her. "You are just jealous."

"No. I'm not. It just serves this cheeky bastard right to fall on his ass for once. He is too spoiled. He always gets what he wants," Dun defended himself.

"Language, Dun!" Bant hissed. Padawan Dun Gevara was infamous around the temple for his tongue and had more than once been disciplined for his use of words.

"If you had paid any attention, you would have been able to tell us what was going on. You can see a lot better in the dark than we do." Seda snapped at him.

"I will never get how women can be so interested in boring romance shit," he stated and gulped down the rest of his beer.

Bant and Seda exchanged a look and rolled their eyes.

Obi-Wan stared at the empty space where Qui-Gon had stood just seconds before and tried to process the new information. He had definitely been rejected. He was just glad that it had happened in a dark secluded corner and not somewhere for all the other Padawans to see. Such an openly displayed rejection could have cost him his reputation.

He was a little angry at himself, for he had misjudged the signs Qui- Gon had been giving him and he had acted upon them too fast. It was his own fault. He was surely out of training. Damn Yoda and his love for lonely planets. It wasn't easy too keep his flirting skills on their usual level when the only other life forms he could talk to were insects, lizards and a wrinkly old Jedi Master with a reputation for bad grammar.

He watched Qui-Gon Jinn's retreating back and made a decision. He would not capitulate so easily. A determined grin settled on his face and he started to follow Qui-Gon over to the bar, where the man was ordering a drink.

He stopped next to him and placed his hands on the bar, waiting for Qui-Gon to acknowledge his presence. When the other young man finally turned his face towards him, the witty comment Obi-Wan had prepared to re-establish the conversation was stuck in his throat. The first thing he noticed were incredibly deep blue eyes dominating a very handsome, almost royal face. Brownish stubble covered a strong chin and high cheekbones, softening the edgy features. Hazel hair fell into his eyes, creating a pleasant contrast to the blue eyes. But all of that wasn't the reason why Obi-Wan inhaled sharply.

"Force, what happened to your nose?" he blurted, in the next instant realising he was unusually bold.

Qui-Gon gave him a crooked smile. "Just a little difference of opinion," he said casually, raising a glass with golden content to his lips, then tossed his head back.

"That looks broken. It needs to be set," Obi-Wan murmured, staring at the blue, green and red coloured swollen flesh.

Qui-Gon set his glass down on the counter. "It hasn't been set the first time it got broken. Trust me, trying to set it now would make it look even weirder."

"So that was the reason you hid in the dark?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of Qui-Gon's nose.

"No. I hid ­ as you put it ­ in the corner so that I wouldn't be approached," Qui-Gon answered truthfully.

Obi-Wan suppressed a snort. Was he trying to tell him that his presence wasn't desired? He tilted his head and gazed at Qui-Gon from under long lashes. But Force, that man made his insides melt. Even with that broken bruised nose he was a dashing appearance.

"And you weren't. Until I came along."

"Until you came along." Qui-Gon confirmed, holding Obi-Wan's gaze.

Obi-Wan could have sworn the air between them sizzled with energy and if he reached out now and touched Qui-Gon, he would feel that energy surging through his veins like an electric shock. Still, something kept him from moving. The one who moved was Qui-Gon, but he wasn't moving towards Obi-Wan. He was moving away from him.

"I need to go," he said and offered Obi-Wan a small smile.

"W... What? Why? It's still early, " Obi-Wan protested and caught Qui-Gon's arm in his hand. The tall Padawan looked down where Obi-Wan's hand rested on his sleeve and bit his bottom lip. Hard.

When he raised his head again an almost shy grin lit up Qui-Gon's features, and only because of his bruised and battered features was Obi-Wan not entirely sure if he saw a blush on those cheeks. "I feel almost charmed by your forward advances, Obi-Wan Kenobi, but I fear I would not exactly be what you expect. I have no desire for shallow and meaningless encounters with strangers, tempting though they may be."

With that he softly withdrew his hand and turned around, leaving Obi- Wan standing at the bar, staring after him speechlessly.

The next morning found Qui-Gon outside the Council chambers waiting for Mace Windu's return from another heated debate about his future. As for Qui-Gon himself, he hardly cared what happened to him. In the six days since his Master's death on Corellia he'd had hardly time to breathe, let alone to grieve. His life had changed so completely in less than a week that he wasn't even sure who he was anymore.

He had spent the last days in a haze while Master Windu was busy re- arranging his life around him ­ a task Qui-Gon was momentarily unable to perform himself. He hardly remembered anything from the blur of the last few days. Strangely enough there was only one image clear as crystal in his mind: sea-green eyes, a cheeky tempting smile and a muscular body clad in tight green suede.

All the deep meaningful life-changing events of the last few days, and the one occurrence he remembered clearly was a casual encounter in a bar. Despite himself, a smile came to Qui-Gon's face. He'd felt both flattered and tempted by the cheeky young man's advances, yet he never had seriously considered to take him up on his offer.

He forced his concentration back to the here and now as his Master had always instructed him. He could almost hear the deep pleasant voice he missed so much speak a gentle reminder. "Be mindful of the living Force, my Padawan."

A heavy sigh escaped Qui-Gon and he had to struggle once again to release his grief to the Force. Master Bur had been not only his teacher, but also the only family he had ever known, his father, his home, and now that he was one with the Force Qui-Gon Jinn felt totally alone.

Master Bur had told Qui-Gon to be sceptical of the Jedi Code, but now the words repeated to him by Master Windu brought some comfort to his lonely heart: There is no death, there is the Force.

He hadn't realised until now that his Master had always been a renegade and that he had been brought up with views the Order frowned upon to say the least. His unconventional training was one of his problems now. Behind those heavy closed wooden doors of the Council chamber, Mace Windu was now fighting for Qui-Gon's right to complete his training as a Jedi within the structure of the Order on Coruscant. If Mace Windu failed to persuade the Council that he had to be trained in the ways of the Jedi, Qui-Gon would be at a total loss as to what he should do or where he would go. That fact alone made him hope Master Windu would succeed, for his fear of an unknown future far outweighed his ingrained suspicions of the Order and authority in general.

Forcing himself not to dwell on his potentially bleak future, he let his thoughts stray back to the previous evening. He had ended up in that dreadful bar by trailing after a group of senior Padawans more in need of a change of scenery from his room in the Jedi Temple than out of any wish for company. He hadn't even been looking for company, but company had sought him in the form of a Jedi Padawan called Obi-Wan Kenobi.

His reverie was interrupted when the heavy doors to the Council chamber were pushed open with brute force and a clearly irritated Mace Windu stalked towards him.

"Master Windu?" Qui-Gon asked shyly, noticing the angered look on the other man's face and the turmoil of emotions that emanated from the Master.

"Qui-Gon, let's look for an empty training room. I need to release some tension into the Force," Windu practically growled.

"Fine by me," he answered and followed the man down the hall. He had some tension of his own to take care of.

Qui-Gon followed Master Windu into the training hall, taking in his surroundings with little interest. Since it was late morning, the hall was nearly empty, except for a small group of Padawans who were sitting around the mats in a loose circle, talking leisurely, waiting for their lesson to begin.

When Master Windu entered, they all rose and bowed to him, and several of them stared at Qui-Gon with undisguised curiosity.

Qui-Gon heard an astonished gasp from the back of the group and noticed with some surprise the young man who had propositioned him last night. His name is Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, a voice in his head supplied. Don't pretend you don't remember that.

He nodded at Obi-Wan, who had by now gained control over his features and returned the nod with a slight smile.

Windu turned to start his warm-up exercises and Qui-Gon went to follow him. As he turned, he saw the Calamarian girl standing next to Obi-Wan whisper something in his ear that made the young man flush violently and turn to the girl to tickle her. In less than two minutes, they rolled around on the floor, shrieking and laughing.

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. Children. Frivolous, disrespectful, unprofessional children, the lot of them. Drinking and dancing and hitting on strangers in bars. Not the proper behaviour for Jedi as far as he was concerned. He began to wonder if the Order had anything to teach him at all.

He began his warm-up kata and sighed in relief as the familiar surge of the Force washed through him, taking away all of his confused emotions, leaving only serenity and light. It was easy for him to slip into trance while his body performed movements it had flowed through countless times before and which were as natural as breathing to him. He inhaled deeply, let go of conscious thought and let the Force move through him.

Finishing the kata with a warm tingling sensation flowing through his limbs and a tranquil peace in his mind, he opened his eyes. He'd been aware of being watched for some time now and as he turned to search for his observer, he looked straight into blue-green eyes that gazed at him in open admiration and just the slightest hint of lust.

The eyes of course belonged to none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Qui-Gon noticed with dismay that the combination of respect for his obvious skill and admiration for his physical appearance that flashed across Obi-Wan's face made the other man look very tempting.

Qui-Gon stared back at Obi-Wan, hoping to discourage further looks, but the young Padawan held his gaze with ease and a cheeky smile that was borderline indecent. Qui-Gon, determined not to be the first to look away, was unfortunately forced to do so when Master Windu spoke to him.

"Qui-Gon, I think it best if we start with a quick sparring match and then you can join your age mates for their lesson."

Qui-Gon nodded, but cringed inwardly. Sparring with this group of snickering, immature youngsters? He wasn't sure he could do it.

Almost without his doing, his eyes sought out Kenobi's blue-green ones once more, but this time he allowed himself only a few moments of eye contact before looking away.

Readying himself to spar with Windu, he shut the rest of the world out, centring only on the moment, the way his Master had taught him. He threw himself into the fight, once again abandoning himself to the Force, fighting Mace Windu with all his considerable skill.

Naturally Windu beat him quite soundly, and after they'd exchanged the customary bows he turned around, almost unconsciously seeking out Kenobi's intense stare. He was almost disappointed when he found that Obi-Wan's attention was directed at two of his classmates who were engaged in a sparring match under the watchful eyes of the teacher who had arrived at last.

Windu called Qui-Gon's attention back to himself by placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Well fought, Qui-Gon." "Thank you, Master Windu," Qui-Gon replied with a respectful nod.

Windu motioned for Qui-Gon to follow him, and the young Jedi did so as the Master stepped up to the sabre class's teacher. Qui-Gon stopped a few paces away, watching the sparring, so that he would not have to hear Windu explaining to the other Master who and what he was. He'd heard the story of his own origin too often in the last few days.

He turned his attention to the sabre match, standing a little aloof of the group of Padawans who made up the class. Carefully avoiding looking at Obi-Wan, he observed the two fighters. They weren't bad, but they were far from good, and much beneath the skill level Qui-Gon had already achieved himself.

He watched casually and listened with half an ear to the conversation between the two girl Padawans who were standing nearest to him.

"So who is he?" the one on the right asked her companion, a human girl Qui-Gon recognised as a friend of Obi-Wan's.

The human girl shrugged, "I don't know. Kenobi met him yesterday at the Saltire Bar, but I had no idea that he was a Jedi."

The other girl raised her eyebrows. "Kenobi, eh? Did they...you know?" she finished with a vague gesture.

The human girl grinned. "No, Obi-Wan was rejected."

Her companion stared at her in disbelief. "You're kidding, Seda. Kenobi was rejected?" Her voice expressed utter consternation. "But why? I mean, he's the hottest ass in the Order, not to mention the most promising Jedi I've ever met in my life."

Qui-Gon was hard pressed to suppress a snort. Hottest ass in the Order he could believe easily, not even he was immune to Obi-Wan's considerable physical beauty, but as to most promising Jedi, Qui-Gon had yet to see any evidence of it.

He turned his attention back to the girls, but all conversation ceased as the Master who taught the class went to the centre of the makeshift ring and bowed to the two Padawans who were by now finished with their match.

The Master then addressed the class. "Padawans, today Master Windu's new student, Qui-Gon Jinn will join us. He is unfamiliar with the Temple and our ways here, so do your best to make sure he settles in all right."

She then consulted a datapad and addressed Qui-Gon directly. "So, Qui-Gon Jinn, what should I do with you? You'll need a sparring partner, and I think I have just the one."

She gestured towards the class, and Qui-Gon hid a shudder as none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi approached his teacher, a swagger in his hips, every inch the cheeky bastard Qui-Gon had taken him for from the moment he'd set eyes on the young Jedi. And though he hated to admit it, a part of him found Obi-Wan's absolute confidence and the promise implicit in these strong hips and graceful stride very attractive. But then again, he had found Obi-Wan very attractive last night, and nevertheless he'd said no.

Obi-Wan grinned openly at the other Padawan and said in a friendly tone, "I didn't realise you were a Jedi. It's nice to see you again, Qui-Gon."

In spite of himself, Qui-Gon smiled. "Well, I don't exactly look like you lot," he said, indicating the strand of hair that fell into his eyes.

Obi-Wan's eyes drifted over Qui-Gon's hair appreciatively. "I noticed," he replied with a low voice and a smile.

The Master clapped her hands together. "I see you already know each other. Very good. You can begin whenever you're ready." She bowed and left the ring.

Leisurely, Obi-Wan drew his lightsabre and did a few stretching exercises. He addressed Qui-Gon in a conversational tone. "So you're the mysterious young Force-sensitive Master Windu brought with him from Corellia."

Qui-Gon frowned, slightly angered by Obi-Wan's casual demeanour and candid inquiry.

"I would appreciate it if you could just skip the pleasantries and get down to business," he said, his tone a little sharper than he'd intended due to his irritation.

Taken aback, Obi-Wan just nodded and got into position for the fight.

Qui-Gon pulled his lightsabre, already dwelling on what he'd do with the rest of his morning after finishing Kenobi off. But then he felt something in the room shift as Obi-Wan's focus snapped into place and emotions dissipated into the Force.

Qui-Gon looked up and in the place of the impish young man he'd just spoken to stood a fully focused and centred Jedi, grounded in the Force and ready for combat.

Qui-Gon cast out his senses and felt wave after wave of focused Force energy drift through Obi-Wan. He locked gazes with his opponent, staring into eyes that were calm, focused, determined and almost grey, and suddenly he knew he was in serious trouble.

Both Padawans bowed, lightsabres hummed to life, a green and a blue blade met with a sizzle and the rest of the world disappeared as Qui- Gon's focus narrowed and centred on his opponent.

From the first moment, Qui-Gon noticed that Obi-Wan wasn't just good, he was incredible. He moved with a speed and grace that was amazing to behold and almost impossible to predict.

Obi-Wan was one with the Force as he fought, his spins and slashes so fast Qui-Gon had trouble following and parrying them, let alone attacking. For a few minutes, Qui-Gon was solely on the defensive, needing all his concentration to adapt to Obi-Wan's speed and style.

He already knew he was going to lose, and yet he noticed as the match went on and he gained enough ground to attack occasionally that Obi- Wan didn't even give his full attention to the fight.

Every time he met Obi-Wan's eyes, the young Jedi would wink at him, and twice Obi-Wan had unnecessarily somersaulted over Qui-Gon's head just to gaze at the other Padawan's backside. Qui-Gon felt a stab of anger rise in him, but released it with a breath. He couldn't afford his focus to slip now.

When Obi-Wan bypassed a perfect opportunity to end the match and gave Qui-Gon a lewd grin instead, Qui-Gon's control snapped.

He threw himself at Obi-Wan, tumbling them both to the floor and trapping the smaller man underneath him.

"Flirting with me will get you nowhere, I already declined your advances. So could you stop playing around and get on with it?" Qui-Gon whispered in the other man's ear.

All amusement dissipated from Obi-Wan's eyes and he replied just as quietly, in a very dry tone, "As you wish."

With a quick roll, he freed himself of Qui-Gon's hold and was on his feet in a wink. As soon as Qui-Gon was standing as well, Obi-Wan attacked ferociously; absolutely serious now, but Qui-Gon felt no anger or aggression from him.

Within two minutes after they'd resumed fighting, Obi-Wan had not only defeated Qui-Gon, but done so quite embarrassingly.

After dispatching Qui-Gon quickly, efficiently and effortlessly, Obi- Wan turned off his lightsabre and offered his hand to his opponent who was lying on the floor, stunned by the swiftness of his mock- death.

Qui-Gon stared up at Obi-Wan and felt thoroughly embarrassed. Not only had he suffered a humbling defeat, he had also - and he was honest enough to admit it - seriously underestimated Obi-Wan Kenobi, a mistake that, had it happened in the field, would have cost him his life.

Still stunned, he accepted Obi-Wan's hand up, taking in the other man's neutral smile and dishevelled appearance. Attractive, and deadly, this one. He filed the amended assessment away for further use.

Obi-Wan gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Don't take it hard, Quiggs."

There wasn't a hint of flirtation in his voice, and Qui-Gon was at once relieved, strangely disappointed and angry. "Did you just call me Quiggs?"

Obi-Wan grinned and nodded.

Qui-Gon levelled a forbidding stare at Obi-Wan, who remained thoroughly unimpressed, and almost growled, "Never do that again."

Obi-Wan shrugged and was about to reply when they were interrupted by Master Windu, who came to collect Qui-Gon for lunch. Qui-Gon nodded at Obi-Wan and headed for the door.

He winced when the last thing he heard before the doors closed was a casual "Later, Quiggs" from Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon sighed. One day he'd get back at this brat, if it was the last thing he did in his life.

Strangely enough, just as he framed this thought, for the first time since his Master's death a genuine smile lit his face.

Qui-Gon slipped deeper into trance. After being so soundly defeated in an area he'd always excelled in, meditation was as welcome as it was necessary to calm his nerves. Uncalled for, memory came to him...

"Qui-Gon! How many times have I told you to keep that arm up," Master Bur groaned in frustration and stepped behind his apprentice and corrected his position with a gentle touch.

"If you hold that arm a bit higher, your opponent can't attack you from above and he has only one option, not two, which he has if you keep your arm like you did earlier."

The apprentice nodded earnestly. "Yes, Master. I'm sorry." Rob ruffled through his Padawan's hair affectionately. "It's all right. But concentrate. Again."

The Master stepped back and attacked again, but this time Qui-Gon followed his instruction and kept his arm at a proper level.

Their lightsabres clashed again, and for a while their sparring match proceeded in silence.

The meadow was peaceful except for the two fighting men and a few sparrows; the nearest town was far enough away that they had the beautiful countryside to themselves at all times.

"That's right. Just like this," Rob said and changed his tactic, watching contentedly as Qui-Gon easily adjusted his defence to his attacks.

Qui-Gon beamed at his Master, who used the momentary distraction to disarm his Padawan. Deactivating his lightsabre, Rob wiped the sweat from his brow. "Good fight, Qui-Gon. You're becoming quite the swordsman, lad."

"But?" Qui-Gon inquired warily.

"Keep your focus. The sparrows are interesting, the day is beautiful, my praise of your style throughout our sparring is well deserved, but don't let such things distract you."

Qui-Gon picked up his lightsaber and nodded. "Yes, Master. I will keep it in mind."

Side by side they strolled back towards their small home at the foot of the hill.

Qui-Gon re-emerged from his meditation and sighed deeply. That had been the last time he'd sparred with his Master.

The last time. The next day they'd gone to the market and met Master Windu. And then his Master had died, just like that. One moment, they'd laughed and joked, the next moment his beloved mentor had lain there on the street, dead.

And with him, Qui-Gon's whole world, his home, his life had faded from existence. A sob tore from Qui-Gon's throat and he broke down in tears.

Still on an adrenaline high after the successful defeat of Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan left his quarters, driven by the need to relax and calm down a bit. He had to admit that he was very pleased with the way the sabre match had unfolded, for if he couldn't get the stubborn and hot tempered but nonetheless beautiful youth to share his bed, he might as well wipe the floor with him.

The battle against Qui-Gon had also been a battle against his own desires: more than once had he found himself distracted by the catlike grace of the other's moves. Qui-Gon was for sure expertly skilled, but he was not yet up to measuring his skills against Obi- Wan's, who had fought for years against a lot of totally different opponents, ever one of them possessing a fighting style that was unique. And of course he had been taught by Yoda himself.

More than once had he felt the need to recall his task ­ defeating his opponent - and he cursed himself inwardly for taking notice of the other's strong hands, the muscles that played under the thin fabric of his leggings, the shockingly long mane of hair that fell in the other's face, all brown and shiny, instead of keeping his mind on the assaults Qui-Gon launched at him.

He frowned when he found himself suddenly on a path to the Gardens of Serenity, a place he had not been in years and one that was favoured by Master Yoda, which alone was reason enough for Obi-Wan to stay as far away as he could from this part of the wide-spread park and garden areas surrounding the temple.

He knew that Yoda used to come here to release his anger about Obi- Wan's hot temper and cheekiness into the Force. He had learned to acknowledge it as a warning to rethink his actions whenever Yoda sought out the Gardens of Serenity. Obi-Wan shrugged and decided to stay on this path. As best as he thought about it, he couldn't think of anything he had done wrong lately, at least not in the last tens, that would upset Master Yoda so much he had to meditate on it and that would make him encounter his Master here.

He rounded a row of bushes and was just about to turn back the way he had come when he spotted a hooded figure sitting on the green meadow, head down, shoulders bowed and clearly not in a state of meditation. His curiosity piqued, he took a closer look and noticed a tremble in the other's large frame. The obvious discomfort and distress that emanated from the other being made him almost turn around again and leave him alone, but then he recognised the other's tall frame for Qui-Gon Jinn.

He surely can't be so upset because I defeated him in the sparring match, could he? Obi-Wan thought, astonished.

He fought between the urge to leave the young man alone and the need to comfort this wounded soul. His decision was made for him when Qui- Gon suddenly became aware of his presence and turned his head, starring at him from under his hood.

"Sorry, it wasn't my intention to disturb you, and I will leave immediately if you wish so," Obi-Wan spilled out.

Qui-Gon didn't answer him for a while, then coughed and cleared his throat. With a thick raspy voice he finally said, "No, it's okay. It's your garden as well. I can't ask you to leave."

Had the man been crying? His voice surely sounded like it, Obi-Wan thought and a surge of compassion seeped through him. He wondered for the first time what it must be like for Qui-Gon here, with no friends, no Master, no one to listen or to talk to.

Obi-Wan approached Qui-Gon, who was making an effort to get up.

"No. Stay seated. Do you mind if I sit down?"

Qui-Gon shook his head, and Obi-Wan took that as an invitation to seat himself next to the other man in the cool grass.

"Everything all right?" he inquired softly, the cheeky attitude he had had until now kept towards this man forgotten with one look at the hunched figure.

Slowly, reluctantly, Qui-Gon shook his head but didn't say a word.

"I know, I'm not the most likely person to offer you an open ear. I have behaved...," Obi-Wan paused, struggling for the right term, "... inexcusably boldly towards you in that bar, but believe it or not, words have it that I'm quite a good audience if you need to load something off your shoulders. I may not be a hunk of a man like you are, but I can carry my load, you know?"

When Qui-Gon raised his head and smiled weakly, Obi-Wan knew he had succeeded in shattering the tight walls Qui-Gon had erected around himself.

"So what is it? Did I offend you in some way when I suggested that the two of us could hit it off?" he asked, giving his words a teasing tone.

Qui-Gon blushed deeply and snorted, "Impish bastard!", but he was laughing.

"That I am," Obi-Wan replied and studied the other man's handsome face. He noticed the red and puffy eyes and wanted nothing more than to take Qui-Gon in his arms and comfort him. The two of them sat in silence for some time. Qui-Gon was busy ripping out blades of grass and studying them with undeserved interest before he threw them away again carelessly.

Patience, Padawan, Obi-Wan heard Master Yoda's voice in his head and for once he decided to follow Yoda's advice, waiting patiently for Qui-Gon to start talking.

Time was passing quickly, and Obi-Wan slipped into a light meditation. Without a warning Qui-Gon suddenly said, "It was on Corellia, 6 days ago, when my Master died," rousing Obi-Wan from his meditative state.

"We were on the bazaar on Treasure Ship Row, as always on a Monday morning, buying vegetables and seafood, when it happened."

Obi-Wan listened in silence while Qui-Gon told him the events that had led to him losing his beloved Master.

Qui-Gon's voice was soft and warm when he spoke of his Master, and Obi-Wan could sense the quiet affection Qui-Gon had felt for Master Bur, a man who had been father and teacher for as long as Qui-Gon remembered. When Qui-Gon had finished with his concerns about the Council's decisions regarding his future in the Jedi Order, his voice had turned to a low whisper and Obi-Wan could sense the despair that Qui-Gon felt as if it was part of his own emotions.

He raised his hand and gently laid it on Qui-Gon's back. At first Qui- Gon tensed but then he relaxed under the soft caress of Obi-Wan's hand rubbing his back.

"I can't imagine losing Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said, "even if he sometimes annoys me so much that I wish he would stay in his damp cave on Dagobah for the rest of his life."

Qui-Gon snickered a bit at Obi-Wan's remark. He suddenly changed the topic.

"So how many times have you been rejected?"

Obi-Wan took his hands from Qui-Gon's back and shot him a confused glance.

"What?"

Qui-Gon blushed a little. "I overheard two girls in the sabre hall voicing their surprise about my rejecting you in that bar yesterday evening."

"Once," Obi-Wan answered truthfully.

"Including this time?" Qui-Gon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Including this time," Obi-Wan confirmed.

"Oh...," Qui-Gon said, then, "Well somebody had to be the first."

Obi-Wan laughed, then placed his hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder again and squeezed it.

"You're feeling a bit better now?"

Qui-Gon nodded.

"I told you, you just need someone who listens. And I promise, all will be fine. Master Windu is very fond of you. He will do everything in his power that is necessary for you to stay in the Order. He might even pick you as his Padawan."

"You think so?" Qui-Gon asked, hope swinging in his voice. "I have to admit, I like Master Windu a lot, he is a generous man."

"I'm quite sure of it. Latest rumours had it that he almost threatened to leave the Jedi Council if they decided to not you let be trained at Coruscant, for that would undermine all his faith in the credibility of the order."

"Oh...," Qui-Gon said again and finally removed the hood from his face.

"Ah! That's better. Now I can see your face," Obi-Wan exclaimed and smiled.

The smile Qui-Gon offered in return was warm and affectionate, and Obi-Wan held his breath, thinking how handsome the other Padawan was with his expressive blue eyes, especially when his face was alight with a smile.

Suddenly Obi-Wan felt almost shy and he folded his hands in his lap and studied his fingers. "I know that you won't be my lover, Force maybe you are not even interested in men and prefer women and my stupid behaviour at the bar and comments..."

He stopped, confused when he found that he had lost track of what he wanted to tell Qui-Gon and looked up at the other Padawan who gazed at him intently.

"I'm an idiot, Qui-Gon, and..."

Now it was Qui-Gon's turn to interrupt him. "I have to apologise as well, for I thought you were a silly child, but I was wrong. You wiped the floor with me back there. You have to teach me that one move where you somersaulted over my head."

Obi-Wan laughed.

"If you want me to show you how it's done, of course. I just... I want to put something clear here: I'm offering my friendship, Qui-Gon,no more, no less, if you want it. You need a friend and I'm more than willing to apply for this position."

Qui-Gon's blue eyes sparkled, and he nodded. "If you promise to stay clear of my ass, Kenobi," he said in jest.

Obi-Wan nodded, grinning, and said, "That could be arranged," but he crossed his fingers behind his back.

The taller Padawan grinned back at him. "I saw you cheating," but it was said with a laugh in his voice.

"No I wasn't!" Obi-Wan protested.

"Oh yes you were!"

"No I ..."

"Ahhh! There you are!" A loud voice interrupted their friendly banter.

Both Padawans looked up at Master Windu who had approached without their noticing. They both hurried to their feet and removed leaves of grass from their tunics, a futile attempt to restore some dignity.

"I'm happy to announce that the Council has decided to grant my request to let you be trained at the temple."

Qui-Gon let out a relieved sigh.

"And I would be honoured to accept you as my Padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn, if you accept me as your Master."

End... for now.