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Disclaimer: I am not now, nor do I ever expect to be, George
Lucas. So. The really obvious conclusion is <g> :
I do not own these characters nor will I make an iota of profit
from this.
Note: First fic! Never thought I'd get here! <g> Anyway,
the brain is full of some really hot stuff. Just got to
get the fingers cooperating with the keyboard.
Note the second: words between /and/ indicate mental speech
between QG and OW.
To all who could feel it, the Force sang of hope and completion
- six Padawans to Knight, six apprentices to set free to trod
the difficult and rewarding path of Light in a galaxy yet
pocketed with fears and mistrust.
Celebration!
And balloons...
"Padawan."
The young man turned, his face a glory of joy and happiness.
"Master?"
"Are you ready?"
Obi-Wan smiled. "Always, Master."
Qui-Gon's own smile spoke silent words of pride and love. Oh,
my Padawan. How can I let you go... "Then let us join the
others. I have no wish to make a late entrance."
And so they passed, every one, through halls half hidden in
peaceful shadows, to the Place of Wisdom in Eternity. No longer
youthful learners, students of thousands of years of Jedi lore,
but Knights whose touch on mind and hand would lead to greater
peace among the myriad worlds of the Republic.
"Perhaps they'll serve Parsta Sweetcake, Master."
Qui-Gon smiled. "Perhaps."
They stood, poised and proud, six young beings and six
delighted Masters. The venerable Yoda was making his way from
pair to pair, speaking private words to each. Qui-Gon could
feel the Force rippling around the room, throughout the Temple
as well. He let it flow through him and thought about Obi-Wan.
When did he grow up? When did he become this remarkable young
man? And he remembered.
Seven years old. Sitting quietly as a group of yelling, singing
children celebrated Boskerfest. Said the patterns in the Force
were so interesting, he couldn't stop watching just to
sing. He could sing any old time, if he wanted to. Did
the Master see the green ripple with a silver-threaded center?
He liked that one best. It's pattern was the clearest.
The boy slipped into his heart that day. His name was Obi-Wan.
And the green ripple with the center of silver was Qui-Gon's
own Force signature.
Ten years old. A huddled form in the Healer's Garden, careful
hands filling a small pot with burger's earth and mesta
spheres. The tiny succulant from some faraway planet had been
tossed onto the compost, it's tender form considered too far
gone to matter. Qui-Gon caught the strong will and
determination as he passed on his way to "better" things and
stopped to watch. He saw gentle hands lift the little plant and
place it in it's pot. He heard a soft voice caress the wavering
lifeforce, saying that it must surely be the best plant in the
entire garden. No, the entire Temple. From across the rows of
herbs, Obi-Wan looked up at the Master. May I keep it and help
it grow? I know I can make it well. Qui-Gon smiled and nodded.
After the boy left, he stood for some time, letting the nature
of things open up the pathways in his heart.
The little plant was now five hand spans across and the height
of a dilga bush.
Twelve years old. With a smile as bright as the sun, the boy
leapt straight up, flipped backwards, and landed with a shout
of joy. He spun in circles, making a circuit of the oval room,
ending with two forward flips and a grand collapse to the
floor. He looked up at the Master who was peering down at him,
laughing quietly. Master, what's it like to be drunk? Why do
you ask, my new Padawan? Because I would like to think it could
never be as good as this. This feels like all the times I've
been happy added all together and then multiplied a thousand
times. I am Padawan Kenobi and I am happier than
a drunk. The Master suspected that if one multiplied what
Obi-Wan was feeling a thousand times, it might come barely
close to what Qui-Gonn Jinn was feeling.
And that feeling had multiplied ten thousand times ten thousand
during the following eight years.
Fifteen years old. He shadowed every move his Master patterned.
Together they lunged, leapt, twisted, and flipped. A fierce
smile of joyous wonder suffused the boy's face as they came to
a stop, inches apart, sabers humming. Perfect. First time.
Qui-Gon looked into those eyes and saw, not himself, but the
counterpart to the Force that limned his own body. His laughter
was deep and breathless, for within Obi-Wan's eyes, he could
see his own truth, his own Light, his own peace.
Perhaps those things could come, after letting him go.
Eighteen years old. The Padawan's light saber whirls and
parries, deflecting one deadly thrust after another. His frown
of concentration never wavers as he skillfully weaves a deadly
pattern with his Master, a dance of death for the Sith now
facing them. In a fierce ballet almost too fast for the eye to
follow, the battle winds along ramps, through doorways, leaping
technical chasms that would have baffled lesser beings. Now,
Padawan. He hears the Master's words through their link, moves
his saber down and back. Time slows. The Master sets up the
opening, drops his guard for one moment. Master. The Sith drops
his blade forward, pointing, slow, but too fast. Hold, Padawan.
One heartbeat. And the Sith is caught. Now. And Obi-Wan moves
with the thought, the shimmering blue blade cutting cleanly
through the center of the black robe and the Sith tumbles,
spinning, into the depths. Two heartbeats. Three. Master. Yes,
Padawan. When I am Knighted, I believe I know what I shall ask
as my First Desire. Qui-Gon smiles. Then let us see to the
Queen, Obi-Wan.
He had never asked what Obi-Wan meant. But now...
Twenty years old. Here. Now.
Yoda stopped in front of this last pair and looked up. "Stoop
you will or crick I will surely get, mmmh?" Both Jedi smiled
and knelt before the small Master.
"Think you do of how time has flown. Yes, time it's own council
keeps and vote we never will." He chuckled a little, then poked
Obi- Wan with his ever-present gimmer stick. "Knight you are,
young Kenobi." His smile was sweet and warm. "And Parsta
Sweetcake there is." Turning a little, he poked Qui-Gon,
leaned closer and whispered, "And balloons there are. Many,
many balloons." Qui-Gon lifted one eyebrow.
Laughing softly, Yoda stepped back and opened his eyes wide.
"Now, young Jedi Knight, tell your former Master you will, what
lies in your heart." Still laughing, he followed the last of
the celebrants as they headed for the main party.
Master and Knight stood facing each other, as they had for many
years: in katas, weapons instruction, combat practice, in
argument both serious and not so, in diplomatic conference or
simple conversation. No longer the Master and the Padawan,
teacher and student.
Qui-Gon looked into those eyes and saw the same truths, the
same answers. Now, if only he had the right question.
"Obi-Wan. You are now a Jedi Knight. It is your right to
request that which you desire most. If it is within my power,
or the Temple's, I will surely grant it to you. What is your
First Desire?"
And Obi-Wan slowly dropped his innermost shields, smiled around
the giddiness in his heart, and said quietly, "You."
Qui-Gon let the word land deep in his soul and take root. One
deep breath of wonder, one moment to let his own shields come
down, and then...
"Of course, my Obi-Wan."
The celebration was winding down. Every former Padawan - now
Knight - was in his, her or its own state of euphoria. Qui-Gon
and Obi-Wan took their leave of friends, teachers and
well-wishers, passing serenely through the hallway to the main
corridor. Small balloons trailed in their wake to slowly drift
in the stray Force eddies swirling like dervishes around the
last of the celebration.
Obi-Wan stole a sideways glance at his former Master. His heart
was yet in his mouth and he found it hard to speak. Qui-Gon had
a most intriguing smile on his face, somewhat as the Faysta
that pulled the first Title Weed must look each New Growth
season. Obi-Wan shivered a little, his lips trying very hard
not to broadcast a grin that would swallow at least Master
Yoda. He knew they were bound for their quarters, he knew their
night was just beginning and he knew with certainty that if he
didn't start laughing he would start crying with shear
happiness.
Here was their door. Good. It was getting hard to walk.
Door open. Even better. Walk in, stop, look up...
Breathe...
Obi-Wan felt the pressure building, within and without. The
Force. Pressing, stroking, urging, willing, needing. He stood
there shaking, his breath coming in little gasps. Qui-Gon's
lips opened, for a slow breath, no more. His eyes were the blue
of eternity, his fingers as they lightly brushed Obi-Wan's
temple, cheek and lips, claimed the moment. In a heartbeat,
they stood as close as they could get without sharing one skin.
And with the slow blossom of certainty, the Force wove the
energy fields of both Jedi into one.
Obi-Wan let his head rest on Qui-Gon's chest, let his body
absorb the slow caress of material as his clothing was removed,
piece by piece, his boots unstrapped and slipped off. Eyes
closed, he felt the slow fire of Qui-Gon's hands travel his
skin, the moist heat of his breath and lips bathing the areas
the fingers blazed.
Breathe...Breathe...
/Obi-Wan/ There was the sound of a lifetime in that familiar
voice.
Eyes open. Eyes see. Oh...
Qui-Gon knelt naked before him, that crooked little smile
saying things that only lovers say.
/Qui-Gon/ There was the sound of forever and skin and heat in
that young voice.
As Obi-Wan watched in shaking wonder, that wondrous mouth said
things to his belly, his hips, his thighs. And finally...
He folded slowly, caught in strong hands and arms, as Qui-Gon
closed a hot, moist mouth over his penis and sucked slowly up
the the end, letting his tongue give one long rasp over the
head before letting go.
/Obi-Wan/ Love. Passion. Wonder.
Obi-Wan knew he was now lying on a soft surface. Bed. Must be.
Qui- Gon's body was warm and hard against him, soft lips were
kissing, sucking.
He could hardly stand it. He had to move, thrust, something...
And then Qui-Gon found his mouth. Obi-Wan whimpered with need
as that hot tongue slipped between his lips, slowly in and out,
tasting, swirling, then finding a home deep inside. He moaned
and fought through Qui-Gon's willing teeth to find the heat and
taste he knew were his to claim.
/Obi-Wan/ He felt Qui-Gon shaking with the same need that had
him clutching long silky hair, the bedclothes, the air...
And then Qui-Gon was kneeling between his legs, head thrown
back, hands moving rhythmically over Obi-Wan's stomach and
thighs.
/Qui-Gon/ He was gasping now, so aroused that the very air sent
jolts of pleasure through his skin.
And those hands stilled just below his buttocks. For a moment,
time seemed to stop as two pairs of eyes met and declared their
intent.
Obi-Wan felt tendrils of Force slip around his thighs, his
balls, his penis. His breath caught on a groan as they slipped
through his anus and, very carefully, started stretching.
/Obi-Wan/ He felt Qui-Gon's fingers slide inside and push...
His legs lifted as he arched into that impossible pleasure, his
entire body bathed in his Master's Force presence.
/Qui-Gon. Love you. Did. Now. Always. Please.../
And he felt Qui-Gon enter his body.
They moved. In passion, in serenity, in the pulsing waves of
flesh needing flesh.
/Obi-Wan/ Qui-Gon's arched body folded Obi-Wan in hands and
kisses and thrusts, each movement sending unbelievable pleasure
through him. In turn, he opened every part of himself possible
to everything that was Qui-Gon Jinn. They writhed and surged,
breathing in gasps and sobs, straining to be closer still.
Until. It was time. They were there. They were there...
The slow explosion of orgasm caught Obi-Wan's breath as he
arched, calves clenched tight around Qui-Gon. And he rode the
waves, trying to remember to breathe, shallow moans of pleasure
escaping his shuddering body. All around him was Qui-Gon -
quietly sobbing his name, pressing a face wet with tears hard
into his neck, gasping as the last of his orgasm left him slick
and trembling against Obi-Wan's body.
Two amazed individuals wrapped themselves in the Force and each
other and slowly relearned how to breathe.
"Obi-Wan." The voice was barely a whisper, soft and sensuous.
"Your choice of First Desire had extraordinary results."
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes closed around the large happiness
that threatened to leak through. "With all due respect, my
former Master, I have often heard you say that one should
not beat around the bush." At this, he was pulled into
an embrace much closer than physics would seem to allow.
The small Jedi Master walked slowly back to his quarters,
escorted by a somewhat taller companion. They both batted
multi-colored balloons out of their way.
"Cleaning committee, there was not?" Bat.
"Young Jedi hopefuls wishing to showoff Force skills, there are
none?" Bat. Bat.
"Master Jinn and Knight Kenobi, fond they are of balloons,
mmmhh?" Bat. Bat-bat.
Master Windu smiled and began to gather up armfuls of Dawn
Surprise.
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