Summary: Obi-Wan remembers one particular mission with Qui-Gon
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Bend, stretch, spin, jump. Pivot, flip, duck, leap. Pause
holding the last position and then the whole cycle begins
again. How many times had I done the same exercise under my
Master's watchful eyes and before him under the eyes of the
teachers at the Temple? How many times had I watched in
fascination the ease with which my Master had completed the
same sequence, longing for the day when I too would move with
such confidence, such knowledge of the self and the Force?
Though he hasn't moved other than in the proscribed patterns, I
can sense the boy watching me, hoping for approval, a word of
encouragement. When he has finished, I shall acknowledge his
efforts for he is skilled but I know that in my heart I am
wishing for the time when I was the student and my Master the
teacher.
Bend, stretch, spin, jump. Pivot, flip, duck, leap. The present
blurs into the past and for a moment I see myself, older than
the boy is now but so much younger than the man I have become.
Younger and more innocent in both the heart and the mind . . .
(10 years prior)
"You are learning, Padawan." Qui-Gon Jinn's rich, mellow voice
slipped through the harsh sounds of the apprentice's breathing
and Obi-Wan slowly turned his head to gaze at his Master. He
wanted to ask what the Jedi meant by his comment but refrained,
knowing from experience that answers were more freely given if
not directly asked for.
Qui-Gon had not been in the room when Obi-Wan began his
exercises but the younger man had known the exact moment his
Master entered. The feel of the Jedi Knight's life Force was as
identifiable to Obi-Wan as the sound of Qui-Gon's voice but the
Padawan learner had not allowed his thoughts to stray from his
movements, concentrating instead on the Force around him, using
it to become one with the pattern.
Shedding his dark, heavy cloak and his belt, the older man
stepped into the center of the room, settling himself in the
opening position of the same sequence of moves his student had
just completed. Obi-Wan moved to the side of the room, his
whole being attuned to Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master centered
himself, then closed his eyes. A split second of utter
stillness then he was in motion, flowing through the movements
with a fluidity and speed that still left his apprentice
awestruck.
One day . . . the younger Jedi promised himself. To the
unpracticed eye it might appear that Obi-Wan was standing
completely still, but a trained observer would be able to spot
the slight twitches that indicated he was mirroring the other
man's moves mentally.
Bend, stretch . . .
The apprentice's blue eyes tracked his Master's every movement,
opening himself to the Force to study the way it resonated
through the older man's being. Qui-Gon's dark hair hung loose
around his face and his eyes remained shut as he spun
gracefully through another progression, this one more rapid
than the last. As his Master gave more of himself over to the
moves, the tight lines etched around his eyes lessened and
Obi-Wan's thoughts turned to the mission that had brought them
here.
The two Jedi were on the planet Kuanara, their assignment to
mediate discussions between two rival clans. The Kuan were a
stocky, feline-looking race who's bodies were covered in thick
mottled fur. Their violet colored eyes were protected from the
planet's fierce winter storms by triple eyelids and their hands
were three-fingered. As one clan tended toward mechanical
products while the other was of a more agricultural bend it was
the task of the Jedi to help them come to an agreement that
would be beneficial to both.
After two weeks on the planet however, the negotiations were
still moving at an agonizingly slow pace and frustration was
high - even for the pair of humans.
Opening himself to the link he and his Master shared, Obi-Wan
basked in the familiar warmth of their connection. Teacher to
student, Master to Padawan, Jedi to Jedi. Sometimes he caught a
faint sense of more but it always retreated before he could
understand or even fully grasp its presence. He was not even
sure if it came from himself or Qui-Gon, but only knew that the
few instances of contact had left him more shaken than anything
in his life.
A change in the Force emanating from the older man had his
apprentice snapping back to the here and now. Qui-Gon studied
Obi-Wan intently, as if aware of his lapse in concentration. In
fact, the apprentice was sure his Master knew of it. It had
always been such, there was nothing he could hide from the Jedi
although the reverse could not be claimed as well.
Still breathing easily despite the fact that his exertions had
brought a gleam of sweat to his tanned skin, Qui-Gon inclined
his head, indicating he wished his apprentice to join him.
Bowing obediently, Obi-Wan gathered up their lightsabers and
stepped into position, his back to his Master's. The faint hum
of power from both weapons began at the exact same instant and,
after a second of complete stillness, both men began the
sequence again.
The green and blue columns of light moved in opposite yet
identical paths, their tracks leaving a faint gleam in the air
behind them. The only sound was the soft thumping of booted
feet on the polished wood floor as the two Jedi wove around
each other, never facing but still perfectly in sync.
Outside, wind-driven sleet hit the small oval windows,
announcing the arrival of yet another storm. Inside, the two
men felt rather than heard the change - a spiking of the Force
surrounding them - but neither faltered in their rhythm.
Obi-Wan's gaze was unfocused, his concentration centered fully
on his Master, alert for the small signals that showed him
Qui-Gon's location as clearly as if there were a viewscreen in
front of him. Four more passes through the patterns brought
them back to their starting location, only this time facing
each other, their lightsabers extended but not touching.
A Jedi's most valuable tool patience is. Obi-Wan heard
Master Yoda's words echo through his mind and held his
position. The weapon in his hand did not waver despite the
exertions. Settling himself in to wait for his Master's signal
to relax, the apprentice was therefore surprised to see the
corner of Qui-Gon's mouth quirk up into a smile.
"And patience is it's own reward," the older Jedi added,
letting the smile reach his eyes before straightening and
deactivating his lightsaber.
Chagrined at the ease Qui-Gon could pick up his stray thoughts,
Obi-Wan flushed. His normally sure fingers fumbled slightly as
he shut down his weapon and he felt a warming in the Force
around him as his Master soothed his suddenly turbulent
emotions.
"Patience," Qui-Gon repeated, bending to retrieve his belt and
robe. "All things come in their own time Obi-Wan."
"Yes, Master," the younger man repeated, feeling an
unaccustomed tightness in his chest as he watched the muscles
flex under the Jedi Master's heavy tunic.
From the very beginning of their time together Obi-Wan had
taken great pleasure in watching his Master move. The quietly
restrained power inherent in Qui-Gon's frame was such a
contradiction to the grace of his motions yet blended together
with such harmony that at times the apprentice had despaired,
feeling he would never attain even half of the older man's
ability.
Years added maturity to Obi-Wan's body as well as to his mental
skills and now when he studied his Master something other than
respect and awe flickered inside him. It was reminiscent of the
feelings that lingered in the early morning after dreams that
left him more drained than any practice session and the younger
man drew in a quick breath as his body reacted to the truth his
mind still danced around. The need to reach out and touch - not
in healing or take comfort, but in a caress - nearly
overwhelmed him.
"The storm will have them canceling this evening's round of
negotiations, will it not?" Obi-Wan queried, walking over to
the window and gazing out at the rapidly darkening landscape.
Qui-Gon moved over to stand behind his apprentice, resting one
hand on the wall alongside the younger man's head as he leaned
forward. "That may very well be Padawan, but until we hear from
Councilor Cha-ata it is best not to operate under that belief."
His hand dropped to Obi-Wan's shoulder and squeezed it through
the sweat-soaked tunic. "The Kuan pride themselves on being a
contrary people so it is quite possible they will continue."
Detecting a note of mirth in his Master's voice that many would
have missed, Obi-Wan turned his head enough so that Qui-Gon
could see his grin. "Especially to remind us that they are in
control here?"
The older Jedi inclined his head noncommittally. "We are here
to serve the Republic and help facilitate these matters as you
know very well Obi-Wan - no matter how long it takes. Now, go
clean up on the chance that they do decide to be contrary."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice steady though inside he
was smiling. According to many of the other Jedi, his Master
was believed to be as difficult to read as the people they were
there to assist.
Ducking under the older man's arm, the apprentice was filled
with the sudden hope that the negotiations would be called off
for the day. A night of relaxation would be a welcome change
from the hostile tension that marked the endless bickering
between the two clans. Gathering up his cloak, Obi-Wan walked
to the opening that led to the bathing room.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon looked away from the shadowed street beyond. "Yes,
Obi-Wan?"
Not sure what he had been going to say, Obi-Wan shrugged, his
motion an unconscious imitation of his Master's earlier one. "I
promise not to use all of the hot water this time."
"That is what you said the last time."
A crimson flush heated the back of the apprentice's neck and
grinned apologetically before ducking back through the archway.
In his haste to go, he missed the way Qui-Gon's gaze remained
on the doorway long after he had left.
Though the Kuan did not count immersing themselves in water as
an acceptable form of bathing, their guest accommodations did
not reflect this. The spacious room held not only a standard
shower stall but also a tub that would have easily held several
full-grown wookies with room to spare.
Casting a longing glance toward the dark gray enclosure,
Obi-Wan sighed and headed for the shower, shedding his clothing
as he went. Making use of that tub was exactly what had caused
him to deplete the hot water store during their first week
here. The thong that bound his short ponytail landed on the
gold-flecked flooring, and was followed by the ties and beads
that decorated his thin Padawan's braid.
Finger-combing through the longer strands that snaked down
behind his right ear, Obi-Wan felt a prickle of chill bumps as
the dark hair at the lower third of the braid brushed over his
bare shoulder. In the tradition of all human master/apprentice
pairs, a lock of the elder Jedi's hair had been grafted onto
the Padawan's through the manipulation of the Force. The feat
signified the bond between the two and their ability to work in
conjunction as the exercise could not be completed without the
full cooperation of both parties.
During the first years of their pairing the darkness of the
braid had stood out in stark relief against Obi-Wan's sandy red
hair but slowly the balance had tipped the other way. Now the
majority of the braid was the apprentice's natural color,
signifying among other things the growth of the student toward
his destiny. When he was finally deemed ready to take his place
as a full Jedi Knight, the adornment would be lopped off and he
would be free to wear his hair as he chose. While a simple,
short cut did have its advantages, Obi-Wan had no desire to
continue looking like an apprentice and was determined to let
his grow as his Master had.
The bathing room had filled with steam by the time Obi-Wan
roused himself out of his reverie and realized that he was
twining the darker part of his apprentice's lock through his
fingers. Damn and blast, if I use all the hot water again I
will never hear the end of it! With a guilty
chuckle, the Jedi student ducked inside the stall and under the
stinging spray.
Of course I could ask Qui-Gon if he wanted to join me . .
. As startled by the random thought as by the fact that he
thought of his Master by his name, Obi-Wan shook his head,
turning his attention to bathing so as not to brood over the
strange directions his thoughts seemed to be travelling in
lately.
The buzz of the communication panel sounded as the apprentice
was drying himself and he listened to the muffled sound of his
Master's voice and the guttural interjections of one of the
Kuan. The conversation was brief and Obi-Wan stuck his head out
of the door when he heard it end.
"It seems we are to be allowed a night of respite," Qui-Gon
said in answer to his Padawan's unasked question. " Councilor
Cha-ata is sending one of his delegates with our evening meal.
The storm is predicted to blow itself out tonight so the talks
will resume in the morning barring any complications."
"I cannot honestly say I am sorry for this one evening's
delay," Obi-Wan admitted ruefully and was rewarded with a
chuckle from the older Jedi.
"Nor can I, nor can I. There are times I believe that these
talks would try the patience of even Master Yoda himself."
Pushing himself up from the chair next to the communications
panel, Qui-Gon rolled his neck, generating several audible pops
and cracks brought on by the tension of the past weeks. "Now
then, Padawan, if you are done in there and you have left me at
least a modicum of warm water I would like to avail myself of
the facilities . . ."
Fighting the blush that once again threatened and flashing an
apologetic smile at his teacher, Obi-Wan darted back into the
bathing room and gathered up his clothing, carrying it to the
smaller of the two bedrooms. The familiar touch of his Master's
mind soothed him somewhat as did the older man's blissful sigh
as the shower spray worked the tension from his shoulders and
back.
After dropping his soiled clothing down the cleaning chute, the
Jedi apprentice pulled on fresh tunics and leggings, securing
the plain, layered shirts around his waist with his utility
belt after tugging his boots on. It was considered impolite for
a guest of the Kuan to carry a weapon within their rooms so
Obi-Wan resisted the impulse to attach his lightsaber to his
belt, instead bringing it with him to the common room.
Setting the weapon on a nearby table where it would be in easy
reach if he needed it, the Padawan busied himself straightening
the furniture he had moved earlier when he had begun his
exercises. The spacious room was looking as it had before when
the soft tones of the door chime sounded. Qui-Gon had not
emerged from the bathing room yet and so Obi-Wan moved to open
it.
"Obi-Wan'le, fair weather to you." The young Kuan female's
rumbled speech turned his name into a smooth purr.
The apprentice grinned, seeing who had come to deliver the meal
and bowed, stepping back out of the way in the same smooth
motion. "And to you, Kele-ata'na," he said smoothly. "It is
indeed a pleasure to see you this evening."
As niece to the councilor, Kele-ata had been present at all the
negotiations so far and the Jedi had struck up a warm
friendship with her. "Is Qui-Gon'le not here?" she asked, her
violet eyes moving from side to side and her slitted nostrils
flaring as she searched for the older human's scent as she set
the tray on the large dining table.
"He is readying himself for the evening meal, he will be out
soon."
"Ahhh . . ." The Kuan's pointed ears flicked back and forth as
she picked up the sounds coming from the bathing room. Rigidly
controlling a shiver at the thought of bathing in water, the
young female nodded.
His attention drawn to his friend's ears by their movement,
Obi-Wan saw something that made his brow furrow. "Kele-ata'na,
what happened?" Her right ear was partially shredded, three
long slashes cutting clear through the fur and skin. The wound
looked clean and wasn't bleeding but it still appeared raw and
painful.
The brindled fur on the female's shoulders rippled and she
blinked her eyelids rapidly - the equivalent of a Kuan blush.
"It is not for you to be concerned about, Obi-Wan'le. Sar-eka
claimed me as his mate, the marking is part of the ceremony."
The young Jedi's mind whirled with the implications of this.
Sar-eka was the lead delegate for the rival clan and one of the
most vocal opponents to the negotiations. "Did - did he hurt
you?" Obi-Wan finally asked, working to separate his concern
for his friend from the logical part of his mind so that he
could try and understand what this might do to the already
fragile peace that had prevailed during the talks.
Kele-ata looked shocked at that and her ears pricked forward as
her eyes widened until a thin circle of white rimmed them. "To
ask such a thing Obi-Wan'le! Did your mate hurt you when
he claimed you? I think not!"
Confused beyond belief, Obi-Wan could only stare at his friend.
"My mate?"
"You and Qui-Gon'le are mates, are you not?" she asked. "You
may not be marked but you each bear the other's scent."
"No!" Obi-Wan winced as his denial was voiced much more loudly
than he had meant to speak. "He is my Master, my teacher. We're
not mates or anything like that!"
The Kuan studied him curiously, tilting her head to one side
and flaring her nostril's slightly, letting Obi-Wan's scent
speak to her as much as his words. "Please forgive me my
ignorance of your customs, Obi-Wan'le," she said formally. One
set of eyelids winked down, casting a shadowy pall over her
violet eyes. "I meant no offence to either you or Qui-Gon'le. I
shall go now so as to cause you no more discomfort."
The Kuan delegate turned to leave but was halted when the Jedi
apprentice caught her arm. "Please Kele-ata, do not leave. I
took no offense at what you said, it merely startled me. If you
can forgive my ignorance of your custom in this case, I can
certainly forgive you yours."
Visibly relaxing at the Jedi's earnest words, Kele-ata chuffed
out a low cough, her version of a laugh. "Oh course you are
forgiven, Obi-Wan, though as you said, there is in reality
nothing to forgive. I am pleased that we can remain friends."
"May I wish you warm nights and many kits?" he asked, offering
up a ritual Kuan blessing he had heard used before.
Kele-ata nodded at that and her lids flicked back, brightening
her eyes once more. "I am honored by your words and when the
time comes I hope that I may wish the same to you."
Obi-Wan could swear he heard a hint of another cough in her
words but the Kuan's expression remained solemn. Kele-ata then
excused herself, saying that her mate was waiting and departed,
leaving a very perplexed apprentice behind.
"You handled that very well, Padawan." At the sound of
Qui-Gon's voice behind him, Obi-Wan fought the urge to try to
sink into the floor as he wondered just how much of the
conversation his Master had overheard.
Summoning every bit of control that his teachings had given
him, the apprentice turned to look at the elder Jedi. "Thank
you, Master but I would agree with you more if I had not been
the cause of the situation to begin with."
Qui-Gon's blue eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts, only a
faint hint of curiosity. "Given all the cultures and races we
meet in our travels, misunderstandings are inevitable no matter
how careful we are. The important thing here was that you were
able to ease the tension between Kele-ata'na and yourself,
leaving no lingering repercussions."
Automatically folding his arms in front of him as if he was
wearing his robes, Obi-Wan silently considered his Master's
words for a moment then studied his own feelings, working to
come to an understanding of his motivation. "I still feel that
the whole situation could have been avoided if I had handled
her assumptions in a better manner."
The Jedi Master inclined his head marginally, conceding the
point. "Be that as it may, Padawan, it is resolved. Now we must
turn our thoughts to what changes this occurrence may bring
when next the clans meet."
Feeling relieved that his teacher was following this line of
discussion, Obi-Wan took a seat next to his Master, and the two
dissected the ramifications of this turn of events over their
meal.
"The truth shall come with the rising of the sun." Qui-Gon
murmured the Kuan proverb as he set his utensils on his plate,
regarding his apprentice seriously, his hands folded on the
tabletop.
"I only hope that the others take a lesson from Sar-eta and
Kele-ata and put aside their differences as well." Taking a
final drink of his juice, Obi-Wan wiped his mouth then set his
napkin aside.
The elder Jedi made a soft noise of agreement though he looked
as if he was distracted by something. "Master?" Obi-Wan asked,
wondering if he had missed some vital piece of information
earlier in the discussion.
Qui-Gon studied his intertwined fingers for a span of time that
seemed - to his apprentice - to drag out immeasurably. Finally,
he lifted his head to study the younger man, his expression
calm and unreadable.
A jolt of nervousness sizzled through the apprentice's nervous
system as those blue eyes held him pinned and Obi-Wan froze,
his ears ringing with the resounding thumps of his heartbeat.
_Recognize the truth when it is time you will._ It was another
of Master Yoda's sayings and seemed somehow portentous now.
A ghost of a smile touched Qui-Gon's lips and he seemed to come
to the end of some internal debate. "Obi-Wan, how did you feel
when Kele-ata asked if we were mates?"
It was a common enough question. From an early age, Jedi
students were taught to examine their emotions for the purpose
of better understanding their own motivations. This time though
Obi-Wan couldn't answer - not because he didn't want to, simply
because he was unable to.
As Qui-Gon waited patiently, the apprentice searched for the
words which would convey his reactions. Finally, after what
seemed to Obi-Wan an eons long silence, he answered.
"Confused."
"Confused?" the Jedi Master asked, hoping for more elaboration.
"Yes, Master." With difficulty Obi-Wan stopped himself from
fidgeting with his napkin, then answered truthfully. "The
question made me realize that I have been . . . Pausing to take
a deep breath, the apprentice felt a wave of warmth and support
flowing from his teacher through their bond. "I have been
having thoughts about you which are not proper for our
relationship."
Having gotten it out, the younger Jedi fairly leapt from his
chair and darted over to the window to stare out into the snowy
darkness. If he could have he would have run from the suite of
rooms, but that was not the way of the Code. _Stand and face
your fears, only then shall you slay them._ Somehow the saying
didn't cover telling your Master that you were attracted to
him.
The chair creaked as Qui-Gon rose and slow, even footsteps
marked his approach. "Padawan," the elder Jedi said gently,
placing a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and turning his apprentice
to face him. "There is nothing wrong in admitting that you care
for someone."
"But Master . . ." Obi-Wan began, struggling to form a coherent
reply even as he noted that Qui-Gon's hand was still on his
arm. "The Code . . ."
"Does the Code tell you to avoid love?" At Obi-Wan's negative
headshake, Qui-Gon continued, his voice soothing and hypnotic.
"I have done you a disservice, Obi-Wan. By seeking to protect
you I have shielded you from more than I should have. At the
time I thought it was best but now I see that I was wrong."
"You have never - " The younger man's outburst was hushed by
the press of his teacher's finger against his lips.
"Yes I have. I have watched you grow from a hotheaded boy to a
man sure in himself and the Force. During this time I have felt
a teacher's pride in you but also more, much more. To protect
you - and myself - I could not tell you."
Blue-green eyes widened with understanding and Obi-Wan gasped
out a breath against Qui-Gon's finger. Raising his hand, he
caught the elder Jedi's finger and placed a light kiss on the
callused flesh. "I do not need protecting, Master, not from
you."
A low groan vibrated the larger man's throat and Obi-Wan
watched in fascination as his Master's pupils dilated and his
breathing sped up. "Padawan, I do not want you to think that
this is required of you . . ."
Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to silence his teacher by placing a
finger on his lips. The short hairs of his mustache and beard
tickled the apprentice's fingertip and he fought the urge to
stroke the sleek hair and explore the square jawline.
"You have never asked anything of my but my trust, Master. Now
I know that I want to give you more. My heart is yours if you
desire it." As he said this, the Jedi apprentice lowered the
last barriers in his mind, letting his newly discovered love
flow from his like a freshly hatched butterfly breaking free
from it's cocoon.
Qui-Gon actually staggered as his apprentice's emotions rushed
over him, shredding his final defenses as easily as if *he* was
the student and Obi-Wan the teacher. The love long-hidden
bloomed, pouring back into Obi-Wan's mind and causing the
apprentice's whole face to light up as he basked in the
knowledge that his feelings were returned.
"The Council . . ." Qui-Gon began, only to find himself pulled
into his apprentice's arms, the move a bit awkward from lack of
practice but all the more sweet for that reason.
"The Council is not here," Obi-Wan murmured, starting to grin
as he felt the full length of his teacher's body pressed up
against his as Qui-Gon's arms wrapped tightly around him.
The Jedi Master leaned closer. "A very good observation." he
chuckled before silencing any other comments by covering his
Padawan's lips with his own.
The conflagration of a Thallasian firestorm was nothing
compared to the burning need that filled Obi-Wan at the
pressure of his Master's mouth on his. The touch was still
light, asking instead of making demands, exploring, savoring,
imprinting the memory of this first kiss into their hearts and
minds.
His hands moving up to tangle in the older man's loose hair,
Obi-Wan let his lips fall open, inviting a more thorough
exploration. The apprentice was rewarded with a rush of new
sensations as Qui-Gon's tongue stroked him, running over his
lips and teeth before sliding inside. The taste was reminiscent
of the spices that had flavored their meal but beneath that was
another, totally intoxicating flavor - that of his Master.
Desperate for more, Obi-Wan's fingers tightened in the rough
silk of the elder Jedi's hair, massaging his scalp with
practiced dexterity as the all-consuming kiss continued.
In response, Qui-Gon's hands moved up his apprentice's back,
stroking the firm flesh beneath the layers of tunics before
settling in their final destination; one palm resting against
the exposed skin of Obi-Wan's neck, the other caressing the
short ponytail on the back of his head.
The Jedi Master's thumb rubbed small circles over the nape of
the younger man's neck and Obi-Wan squirmed lightly as the
sensation was ticklish as well as being highly erotic. There
were very few places that he and Qui-Gon had not touched each
other over their years together, either in training, healing or
comfort, but this was one that had somehow been missed.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon pulled back enough to look into his
apprentice's eyes, his own still darker than usual but lit with
the fire of a thousand suns. The question was accompanied by
the brush of his mind against the younger man's, a soft
assurance to both as to their emotional state. The barriers
were still down completely between them and the all too evident
rush of love and desire arced back and forth between the pair,
with each leap growing stronger and more sure until it
threatened to incinerate them where they stood with it's
intensity.
"I never realized," Obi-Wan breathed, his arms remaining locked
around the larger man.
Qui-Gon nodded at that and brushed a feather-light kiss over
his Padawan's intoxicating mouth. "I am sorry for my deception,
but I felt and still do feel that it was necessary. Emotions
are like the ability to touch the Force, either they are there
or they are not, nothing you or anyone else can do can coerce
them into existence if they are absent."
Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to lean in for a kiss, this one a
teasing brush of his lips over the softness of his Master's.
"Then I for one am very glad that Kele-ata made me aware of
mine, else who knows how long it would have been before I
discovered them."
"As am I," the elder Jedi smiled, shifting one hand to stroke
Obi-Wan's face. "We shall have to thank her when next we see
her."
A dull red flush crept up the back of the apprentice's neck at
that and he chuckled. "I fear that if she gets a good scent of
us she will know without our saying one word, Master. You do
not think this will damage our effectiveness here, do you?"
Qui-Gon silently considered the possibility, the lightning-fast
pace of his thoughts sliding over the edges of Obi-Wan's mind
like a swiftly running stream. Flashes of light illuminated
random images, leaving the younger man with a vague impression
of the whole process.
"Considering that she believed us to be mates before, I do not
doubt that the rest of the Kuan think any differently. It has
not affected our ability to act as mediators thus far so I
cannot foresee it being detrimental in the future."
Obi-Wan relaxed at that but the Jedi Master continued speaking
before he could say anything. "There may be future missions,
however, that could be jeopardized by this and at such times .
. ."
"The mission comes first." Obi-Wan nodded in understanding.
They were Jedi, to act in a manner that would compromise their
assignment would not only be unthinkable but also potentially
dangerous, to both themselves and their brethren. "But not
tonight?"
"Not tonight," Qui-Gon softly agreed, shielding the small
portion of his mind that wondered what the Council would say
about this development. Masters and apprentices had in the past
become lovers and the situation was considered acceptable - as
long as it did not interfere in the Padawan's training.
Silently vowing to himself that this would not be the case
here, the elder Jedi captured Obi-Wan's mouth again, savoring
the other man's enthusiastic response as their minds meshed
once again.
Hands shifted lower to smooth over the rough fabric of their
outer garments, pressing the neutral hued cloth against the
quivering muscles beneath, sparking new rounds of tremors as
sensitive spots were found and catalogued.
Tearing his mouth from his apprentice's to feast on Obi-Wan's
neck, Qui-Gon was rewarded with a hoarse moan and a sudden
clutching of the younger man's fingers. Then it was his turn to
groan as Obi-Wan slipped a hand between the folds of his tunic
and his fingertips grazed over the Jedi Master's flesh.
"Should we move while we can still walk?" Obi-Wan gasped out
even as he tilted his head to allow his Master access to more
of his neck. As if in a daze, he continued to sweep his hand
over the smooth warmth of the older man's chest, the ridged
muscles contracting and releasing beneath his palm.
"A bed would be more comfortable than the couch or the floor,"
Qui-Gon murmured, his words causing the short hairs of his
beard and mustache to glide over his Padawan's neck.
Obi-Wan nodded and leaned in to kiss the exposed shell of
Qui-Gon's ear. "And warmer too."
A soft chuckle was the older man's only response as he pulled
back enough to gae at his student. "I do love you, Obi-Wan."
The words were soft-spoken but sure.
"I know, Master." The apprentice slowly withdrew his hand from
his Master's tunic only to twine his fingers with the elder
Jedi's. "It is as clear to me as my feelings for you and I know
how deeply I love you."
A slight tightening of Qui-Gon's fingers accompanied his smile
and the two men turned as one to make the short journey to the
larger of the bedrooms. They had barely gone three steps when a
distant explosion rocked the complex.
Instantly the Jedi sprang apart, calling their weapons to their
hands and searching the Force for the cause of the blast. The
desire that had burned so brightly between them was instantly
banked as body and mind concentrated on the current situation.
"The meeting hall," Obi-Wan breathed, identifying the area of
the complex that had been destroyed.
Qui-Gon nodded tightly, sheathing his weapon and heading for
the door. "I only hope that no one was inside."
Obi-Wan automatically fell into position at his Master's left
side as they strode out of the door and into the wide corridor.
Dazed looking members of both delegations mingled in the
hallways, the numbers increasing as the Jedi neared the scene
of the explosion.
Using his height to an advantage, Qui-Gon scanned the Kuan,
then stopped one of the delegates. "Where are Councilor Cha-ata
and Advocate Sar-eka?"
The dust-streaked male shook his head then gestured toward the
meeting room. His ears were pressed flat to his head and his
teeth were bared, causing his voice to emerge in a harsh hiss.
"They were in the hall along with Kele-ata'na, I do not know if
they left before the accident."
Obi-Wan felt a stab of worry lance through him at the thought
of his friend being trapped in the now demolished room, but his
face retained the same placid expression as his Master's. "Do
you have a rescue team?" he asked, wondering why no one had
attempted to determine if the two delegation leaders were in
fact in the hall.
"The storm . . ." the Kuan began, gesturing toward the dark
windows. "They will be some time in arriving."
The two Jedi shared a moment of wordless communication,
acknowledging the one course of action that was available to
them. "If any of your people have medical skills there will be
a need for them," Qui-Gon stated, enforcing the words with a
bit of the Force. "Have them set up a triage unit nearby, we
shall see if there is anyone inside."
The young male nodded nervously, then scurried away, apparently
to do as he was told. Not bothering to watch him any longer,
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan started toward the massive entryway,
straining to see through air clogged with smoke and dust. Huge
supports had broken away from the ceiling, turning the massive
room into a twisted maze bereft of any clear path through it.
"Padawan, you know Kele-ata best, can you feel her in there?"
Excruciatingly aware that seconds were ticking away, seconds
that could mean the difference between life and death, Obi-Wan
dropped into a light trance, sending tendrils of thought
outward in search of the unique spark of the Force that was his
friend. A faint glimmer of contact, enough to tell him that she
was inside but injured and the apprentice broadened his
awareness, searching for other life forms.
While Obi-Wan sought out the Kuan, Qui-Gon studied the heavy
support beams, letting the Force guide him in determining which
ones should be moved and how. "She is there," the younger Jedi
said at last as he moved to stand at his Master's side once
more. "And two others who are also injured. They're trapped
near the bank of tables on the side of the hall nearest the
murals.
There was no need to ask the younger man if he was ready and,
after taking a deep breath of the relatively clean air outside
the doorway, the Jedi moved into the hall, working with mental
and physical strength to clear a path through the debris.
"So nice of the Kuan to offer to help us." Obi-Wan's voice was
strained with the effort of holding one of the plasteel beams
aloft while Qui-Gon maneuvered another under it to hold it in
place. Rubble shifted and slid, threatening to create a deadly
cascade and both men used their command of the Force to slow
the motion of the broken rock until it settled into a
precarious balance once more.
"We can worry about the reasons for that after, Padawan."
Qui-Gon's voice held a mild rebuke that served to remind his
apprentice that they did not know everything about the
situation yet.
"Yes Master," Obi-Wan murmured, wiping his sleeve across his
forehead and leaving a dirty smear behind.
"Obi-Wan'le?" Kele-ata's voice was weak and muffled by the
debris still separating them but it was a welcome sound.
"We're almost there, Kele-ata," he called back, determination
adding strength and maturity to his voice.
"Please hurry." The Kuan sounded distraught. "Cha-ata'le is
badly injured."
"As is my mate." The two Jedi recognized the bass growl of
Sar-eka's voice. "Should we dig through from this side?"
"No!" Qui-Gon's voice was sharp. "Stay where you are, we will
come to you. If you start moving things I can't promise that we
will be able to control the shifting."
"As you wish Qui-Gon'le." It was plain that the inactivity was
eating at the Advocate but he understood the wisdom of the
order.
Their minds meshing together, the Jedi went back to work, their
power blending and overlapping as they continued to work their
way through the rubble. Through careful and methodical use of
the Force they opened a path to the three trapped Kuan.
Sar-eka was hovering protectively over Kele-ata, blood matting
his dark fur from gashes to his head and back. The female was
attempting to make her uncle comfortable but it was plain from
her expression that he wasn't doing well. Her arm was pressed
tightly to her side, it's unnatural angle a clear sign of a bad
break.
Cha-ata was in the worst shape. The Councilor's eyes were
glazed and his breathing was labored. Part of his skull seemed
dented and blood was pooled under his body.
"Can you walk?" Qui-Gon asked, looking from Sar-eka to
Kele-ata. They nodded and the Jedi Master turned his attention
to the severely injured Cha-ata, communicating his instructions
to Obi-Wan in the same instant.
Plainly not pleased with his orders, but not wanting to
challenge his Master in public, Obi-Wan sent back his silent
agreement. "We're going to get you out of here now. I need you
to follow in my steps exactly, the route is unstable and a
misstep could bring the ceiling in on us."
"The day I cannot follow a human's trail is the day I
offer myself to the snows," Sar-Eka growled, his ears
flattening then relaxing at the touch of his mate's hand on his
arm.
"We will follow you, Obi-Wan," Kele-ata assured him, her voice
still tight with pain but gentle.
Feeling somewhat assured by the fact that the Advocate was not
going to do anything to jeopardize her, Obi-Wan cast a final
look over his shoulder to where Qui-Gon was manipulating the
Force to close as many of Cha-ata's wounds as possible before
carrying him out.
"Master are you sure . . ."
"Go, Padawan. I will bring the Councilor out once he is
stable."
Hating to leave Qui-Gon in this dangerous maze but knowing that
it was the only way, Obi-Wan sent a thin tendril of strength
and love toward the older man and felt a rush of happiness when
it was acknowledged and returned.
The way back through the shattered hall was tortuous and
several times Obi-Wan found himself supporting the two Kuan
over obstacles in their path. Sweat dripped into his eyes,
causing them to burn and his tunic rubbed over the numerous
scrapes and cuts he had accumulated thus far. By the time they
broke free of the disaster, the apprentice was helping Sar-eka
support Kele-ata, the young female having passed out when a
stumble slammed her injured arm into a sharp-edged rock.
Once he was sure that the two Kuan were in capable medical
hands, Obi-Wan turned and headed back into the meeting hall,
intent on one thing - finding his Master and getting him out of
there. Using all his agility to scramble over the wreckage, the
apprentice raced back over the path he had just traversed.
Less than a third of the way back into the hall he found the
other two. Qui-Gon was picking his way through the ruins, his
concentration focused on the Kuan in his arms and the debris
around them. The Jedi Master's eyes narrowed when he saw his
student but he remained silent except for a nod when Obi-Wan
took over the task of weaving the Force around the looser
blocks.
A plasteel strut drooped lower and Obi-Wan hefted it back out
of the way, feeling the strain in his mind. Holding it high
enough for Qui-Gon to duck under without jostling Cha-ata and
himself to follow, Obi-Wan then let it fall back into place.
The small concussion started a rumble deep within the ruined
meeting hall and the wreckage shifted violently.
Qui-Gon propelled himself and the Councilor through the doorway
and handed the injured Kuan over to the medical personnel for
treatment. Before they had Cha-ata fully on the stretcher the
Jedi was spinning and racing back to the entrance to drag his
apprentice to safety.
The sight of his Master silhouetted on the opening ahead was
like a beacon and Obi-Wan pressed his exhausted muscles harder,
sprinting the final few meters. The rumble grew louder and the
last thing he saw before everything went black was the look of
horror on Qui-Gon's face.
Blackness. Emptiness. Agony. At least the last of the three
could be dealt with and Obi-Wan turned his splintered
concentration to accepting the pain so that his body could use
the Force to heal itself. A brush of contact against his
befuddled mind was followed by a steady outpouring of strength
and love that was accompanied by the light touch of his
Master's palm on his forehead.
"What?" he managed to croak out, struggling to open his eyes.
"Rest, Padawan," Qui-Gon murmured, the words echoing in
Obi-Wan's mind and his ears and bringing with them a feeling of
lassitude. "You need to heal more and there will be time for
questions later. Now is the time for you to sleep."
Even though Obi-Wan was aware of what his Master was doing, he
was unable to resist the compelling suggestion and he slipped
back into the void, though this time the emptiness was banished
by the soft glow of Qui-Gon's presence.
"If I try to open my eyes are you going to put me to sleep
again?"
A relieved chuckle greeted the apprentice's somewhat petulant
question and he took that as a sign that the answer was no.
Wincing at the brightness of the light even though in reality
it was very dim in the room, Obi-Wan turned his head in the
direction of the soft sound then frowned as he saw how haggard
his teacher looked. The fine lines at the corners of Qui-Gon's
eyes were more deeply etched than the younger man had ever seen
them and his complexion was pale beneath his tan.
"I believe that you should take your own advice, Master." As he
spoke, Obi-Wan discovered that he could move without too much
pain and reached out to take the elder Jedi's hand.
Shifting forward, Qui-Gon clasped his apprentice's hand between
both of his palms, layering his flesh in warmth. "My own
advice?" he asked, his control slipping enough to show a hint
of the anguish he had felt at being unable to prevent his
Padawan's injuries.
Obi-Wan nodded at that and rolled to his side, moving carefully
so as not to dislodge his hand or awaken any of the lingering
aches in his recently healed body. "I do not think the Kuan
would like it if you fell asleep during the negotiations."
"The negotiations are over." Noting his apprentice's surprised
look, Qui-Gon exerted all his formidable control on his roiling
emotions and continued, though he did not release Obi-Wan's
hand.
"The feud has been settled, the clans have come to an
agreement." A heavy sadness entered the older man's voice as he
continued. "The medics were unable to save Councilor Cha-ata.
The Ata-nale voted and Kele-ata was named his successor. She
and Sar-eka have managed to find compromises that have pleased
both the Ata-nale and the Eka-nale."
"Perhaps being mates has given them more insight to the wants
and needs of their former foes," Obi-Wan murmured, letting the
familiar warmth of his Master's presence wash over him like a
healing balm. "But what of the explosion?"
The Jedi Master's blue eyes hardened and his lips thinned. "It
was not an accident," he stated flatly. "Dev-ata planted the
explosives and then contacted the Advocate and the Councilor,
telling each that the other wanted a meeting. Apparently he
thought that if both were out of the way the talks would
totally collapse."
"How unfortunate for him that we were there to help."
Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow at the blatant cynicism in his
student's voice. "This also explains why we had no help. He
told the other Kuan that we preferred to handle the rescue on
our own, hoping our deaths would cause the rift to widen even
further."
"But why?"
"Greed." The word was accompanied by a sigh. "It motivates
people to act in inconceivable ways. It is no wonder it's one
of the paths to the Dark Side."
Obi-Wan nodded then closed his eyes for a moment, letting his
thoughts drift along the currents and eddies of the Force as he
absorbed this news. His Master's mind lay open and unshielded
before him and a light brush against one of the older man's
memories made the apprentice gasp.
"Obi-Wan?" Concern evident in every line of his body, Qui-Gon
shifted closer, moving one hand to stroke his Padawan's short
hair.
Still shaken from the image, Obi-Wan tightened his fingers
around Qui-Gon's, concentrating on the sensation and on keeping
his voice even. "I hadn't realized how badly . . . How long was
I out?"
"Three days," the older man replied quietly, his tone showing
more clearly than any vision what that span of time had been
like for him.
Three days . . . For a Force-enhanced healing to take
that long, especially when aided by medic droids, the injuries
had to be grave indeed - and from the glimpse of himself that
he had gotten from his teacher's mind, they had been. To ease
both his own and his Master's thoughts, Obi-Wan brought
Qui-Gon's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "And you
wondered what lengths I would go to to miss another round of
those endless debates."
The Jedi Master tried his best to look stern but finally gave
in and kissed his Padawan's hand in return, the small gesture
doing much to restore the intimacy which had blossomed between
them before the tragic events of three days prior. "Obi-Wan, I
know that you tend to go overboard with your reactions at times
but that is a bit much even for you."
And I have never felt so helpless in all my life. The
thought rang clearly in Obi-Wan's head and it was then he
understood the toll his accident had taken on the older man.
"Master - " he began, then stopped and sat up, ignoring the
muted aches from his abused muscles. "Qui-Gon - " the word felt
strange and seductive flowing across his tongue and lips and he
couldn't wait to say it again. "There is nothing you could have
done, and you did help." The apprentice's voice was low and
earnest as he spoke and he found himself exerting a bit of
pressure on his teacher's arm to pull him closer. "I was
drowning in a sea of darkness and your strength, your love, was
the light that led me to shore. Without that I fear I would
still be flailing around, not knowing which way to turn."
The sound of the ragged breath Qui-Gon drew in rasped loudly in
the silence that followed Obi-Wan's statement and then the
younger man found himself folded in his Master's arms and his
own wrapped around the other man as tightly as possible.
I will always find you, beloved. The certainty behind
the Jedi Master's thoughts rolled over his apprentice, leaving
a trail of warmth and conviction in it's wake. Just as I
know you will always find me should I lose my way.
Always. Obi-Wan agreed silently, leaning back just
enough to look up into Qui-Gon's eyes and noting with some
relief that the shadows which had haunted them were gone.
"Though I could easily lose myself in you and not want to be
found."
"You burn too brightly to ever be lost in my shadow, Obi-Wan.
It draws people to you like moths to a candleflame, myself
included."
"I would never burn you, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered, feeling
his body tighten as he drew his Master's face downward until
their lips met in a blissful union once more. Reckless abandon
on his part met with tightly leashed desire from the older man
and Obi-Wan pulled back, frowning.
"You do burn me, beloved. Just looking at you sears my eyes and
your touch, your taste is branded in my soul for all eternity.
You burn Obi-Wan, but it is with a fire that wakens one that
has lain long dormant within me. You burn and in the face of
that I can do nothing other than join with your flames or be
consumed by them."
"When two fires merge, they burn brighter than even before."
With quick, decisive movements, Obi-Wan lay back on the
mattress, pulling Qui-Gon along with him. Seeing that his
teacher was resting all of his weight on his arms, Obi-Wan
looked questioningly up at the older man.
Giving a soft sigh of regret, Qui-Gon shifted to the side,
freeing one of his hands and running his palm over his
apprentice's cheek, feeling the faint trace of stubble as he
did so. "Do you doubt my feelings for you, Padawan?"
"Never, Master!"
Qui-Gon smiled at that and continued his hand's languid
movements. "Then you will understand when I tell you that we
must wait until you are fully recovered before carrying this to
the next level."
"But - "
"No 'buts', Obi-Wan, but if it is of any help, the wait is hard
for me also."
"That's not all that is," the younger man grumbled.
The elder Jedi looked sympathetic but his decision wasn't
wavered by the hard evidence of his apprentice's arousal
pressing against his thigh. "You are still weak, beloved, and I
would rather our first time not end in you falling asleep or
passing out."
Obi-Wan had to laugh at that, and much of the tension drained
from him. Giving his teacher a soft mental nudge, he waited
until Qui-Gon shifted so that he was lying next to him. Then,
with a contented sigh, Obi-Wan curled up against the larger
man, his head pillowed on his teacher's shoulder. "You are
putting me to sleep again, aren't you?" the apprentice
muttered, his tone accusatory.
"The more you rest and sleep, the sooner you will recover,
Padawan," Qui-Gon murmured, cradling the smaller man close and
immersing his senses in the unique scents and textures that
made up Obi-Wan.
"And the sooner we can . . ." Another touch of the Force, and
Obi-Wan gave up fighting, letting his Master lull him to sleep
with his touch and the steady sound of his heartbeat.
"What did you think of the ceremony, Padawan?"
The two Jedi were returning from Cha-ata's funeral and snow
clung to their robes and boots as they reentered the complex,
having paid their respects to the Kuan delegations outside. The
mission was now officially over and, as Obi-Wan had been
cleared to return to active duty by both the medics and
Qui-Gon, they would be leaving when the shuttle arrived in the
morning.
The young man considered the question carefully as he walked
through the corridors at his Master's side. "It was a lot like
Kuan themselves. Serious and business-like, nothing extraneous
to distract those in attendance from remembering what had
brought them there today."
Qui-Gon nodded, pleased with his apprentice's grasp of the
nuances of the Kuan culture. "They mourn for five days, then
enact the Kav'lena, then life goes back to normal for them."
"Only now that normalcy will include peace between the Ata-nale
and the Eka-nale."
"And hopefully more prosperity for both of them." They reached
their rooms, shedding their robes as the door closed behind
them and hanging them up so that the heavy fabric could dry.
Qui-Gon was silent for a long moment as he studied the large
common room, his eyes taking on a distant look. Wondering what
his Master was thinking, Obi-Wan sent a thin tendril of thought
in the older man's direction. The image that greeted his soft
probe brought a look of wonder to the apprentice's face - had
he really looked like that at the end of their last training
session?
"Are you questioning my memory, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked,
turning to gaze at the younger man, the vision in his mind
changing to one of Obi-Wan as he looked now; formal tunic
hanging a touch too loosely on his body due to the weight he
had lost during his convalescence, sandy red hair darkened by
the now melted snow, thin Padawan's braid trailing down beside
the strong column of his neck, blue-green eyes lit with the
feral knowledge that he was desired.
"Never, Master, but would you care to know how I see you?" At
Qui-Gon's wordless nod, Obi-Wan took control of the vision,
replacing his picture with his Master's, building the image
layer by layer until it was perfect. The sculpted body hidden
beneath the many layers of his clothes, the strands of gray
mixed with the predominant brown of his hair, the lighter toned
beard and mustache that framed mobile lips which were now
quirked up in a grin, and the blue eyes - eyes that reflected
the same emotion that burned in the younger man's.
At the touch of his teacher's hand on his face, Obi-Wan's
concentration shattered and the image collapsed, leaving him
staring into Qui-Gon's eyes.
"I see exercises in dealing with distractions are in order -
but they can wait until tomorrow." The addition silenced any
protest Obi-Wan had been considering and he threw himself into
Qui-Gon's arms in a blur of motion.
Freed from the constraints of their official positions, the two
men devoured each other's mouths hungrily, rediscovering the
territory they had only begun to map before they had been
interrupted what now seemed years ago. This time Obi-Wan was
the aggressor, slipping his tongue past the lush barriers of
the elder Jedi's lips then feeling the rough velvet slide as he
explored the taste and feel of Qui-Gon's mouth.
Muscles tensed as white-hot desire tore through them, burning
aside all thoughts of control and leaving only the aching need
in each man to show the other how much he was loved and wanted.
Utility belts dropped to the floor and hands pushed at layers
of fabric that somehow seemed to have multiplied since the
clothing had been put on earlier that day.
Soft murmurings of names and endearments accompanied the carnal
sweep of hands over exposed flesh as the multiple tunics were
stripped off, and Obi-Wan found himself pulled up against the
solid wall of Qui-Gon's chest for another kiss. Losing himself
in the heady sensation of the heat of his Master's skin
pressing against his own, the younger man grabbed two handfuls
of Qui-Gon's hair, yanking it in his attempts to get even
closer.
"Easy, Obi-Wan." The elder Jedi's husky laughter had a pained
sound to it and he tugged lightly at his apprentice's braid to
get his attention. "If it is your intent to make me look like
Master Windu, beloved, there are easier ways than pulling my
hair out strand by strand."
"Master, I . . ."Obi-Wan began, before recognizing Qui-Gon's
teasing for what it was and grinning as he rubbed his teacher's
scalp. "Master Windu may be a handsome man but I much prefer
you - hair and all." The thought of feeling the rough silk that
was even now sliding between his fingers trailing over his body
sent a jolt of electricity through the younger Jedi and he
shivered in anticipation.
"Are you saying that if I didn't have any hair you would prefer
Mace?" As Qui-Gon spoke, he began walking backwards, leading
them toward the larger of the two bedrooms and the fur-covered
bed that dominated the area. "And no you don't need to answer
that," he added, grinning at his apprentice's outraged look.
"Maybe I would prefer Master Yoda," Obi-Wan shot back and found
himself expertly flipped onto the bed for his trouble. "But
then again, maybe not."
"Maybe?" the older man asked, prowling along the foot of the
bed, his movements as predatory as those of the Kuan when they
took part in one of their ritual hunts.
"Possibly." Obi-Wan's voice held a seductive mixture of
laughter and yearning and his eyes tracked his Master's
movements avidly. Sitting up, he pulled off his boots, tossing
them toward the corner of the room with little thought as to
where they landed.
"Possibly? I must admit Obi-Wan, you are beginning to worry
me."
"Perhaps if you would come here you would not need to worry
about me any longer." Raising himself up on his knees, the
younger Jedi held out his hands, inviting his teacher to join
him, scarcely able to believe that this moment had finally
arrived.
Qui-Gon leisurely removed his own boots, then, in a series of
fluid motions, pounced, gathering his apprentice to him. The
two of them rolled across the width of the bed, mouths and
minds coming together in a sparkling rush of lust and love that
set every nerve ending in their bodies aflame. Every exposed
inch of flesh was stroked and memorized before the same path
was taken by kiss-swollen lips. Tongues flicked out to lave
away beads of sweat that rolled down smooth skin and hoarse
gasps for oxygen sent cooler air rushing over the damp trails,
raising chillbumps in their wake.
Arching upward into the pressure of the older man's mouth
against the tightly contracted flesh of his nipple, Obi-Wan
moaned aloud as some hidden dam burst within him, filling his
mind with images that had been until now reserved for his
deepest dreams. His fingers dug into the larger man's back,
then slipped lower, moving under the remaining layers of
Qui-Gon's clothing to knead his tight buttocks.
A few swift movements, a judicious use of the Force, and their
pants were gone and for the first time Obi-Wan felt the full
length of his Master's body pressed to his. Desperate for more
and seeing an echo of his frantic need in the elder Jedi's
eyes, Obi-Wan combed his hands through Qui-Gon's loose hair,
letting his fingers slide down the solid planes of the other
man's back, over his ass and to the tops of his thighs.
The Jedi Master threw back his head, arching hard into the
strong, lithe body beneath his and gave voice to a throaty purr
that vibrated through both of them. Show me, beloved. What
will give you the most pleasure? Though his thoughts were
colored with the need coiled deep within him, Obi-Wan could
also sense the firm grip the other man was keeping on himself -
as if he was afraid of scaring or injuring his apprentice in
some way.
Mas - Qui-Gon, I am not a child and I am certainly not as
innocent as you are picturing me, the younger man sent,
providing blatantly carnal images of his long repressed dreams
to back up his thought. I know what I want, and it is the
same thing I realize now that I have always wanted: you. Over
me, in me, filling me until we have lost all sense of where one
of us begins and the other ends.
The open yearning and lush sensuality of his apprentice's
thoughts proved to be the Jedi's undoing and, with a low groan,
he surrendered control, driving his hips into Obi-Wan's. Their
erections slid together, the flesh lubricated by their
perspiration and the drops of preejaculate that were leaking
from both of their cocks.
You are everything to me, Obi-Wan, I can deny you
nothing. A tremor ran through Qui-Gon's body as he admitted
this and he slanted his lips over his student's, claiming them
as thoroughly as the younger man had pictured their bodies
joining together.
Continuing the ravishing kiss that had somehow turned into a
seductive battle for dominance as Obi-Wan greedily responded,
wrapping his legs around the other man's hips, Qui-Gon sent out
a tendril of the Force and called a small jar to his hand.
Flicking the top off filled the air with the heavy scent of
musk and Obi-Wan sniffed appreciatively, loosening his hold on
his Master to allow Qui-Gon to sit up.
"You define the word hedonistic, Padawan," he chuckled,
watching in delight as the younger man writhed sinuously,
waiting for the first touch of his soon-to-be lover's hands.
"Was not it you who taught me to enjoy the pleasures life
brings, Master?" Qbi-Wan's eyes were half-lidded and his gaze
voracious as his gaze dropped from Qui-Gon's chest to his
rampant erection and he licked his suddenly dry lips. The touch
of the other man's large, callused hand on his aching flesh
drew a low exclamation from him as well as a reflexive bucking
into the slick grip.
"That is true, but I also taught you patience, did I not?"
Using a touch as soft as moonlight, Qui-Gon trailed his fingers
along his Padawan's shaft and down over the tightly drawn up
sack beneath it. Once again clamping rigid control over his
unruly body and mind, the elder Jedi slowly and carefully
prepared his apprentice, bringing him to the brink time and
again until Obi-Wan was babbling incoherently, lost in a
whirlwind of passion that showed no signs of ending soon.
Please . . . It was the one word Obi-Wan could manage to
form and it was rewarded with a slow smile from his mentor.
"Now we will both be rewarded for our patience, beloved."
Cradling the younger man's face in his hands, Qui-Gon pressed
forward into the heated depths of his apprentice's body.
The bond the two men shared flared to new life, making both
feel as if they were taking and being taken at once as the
lines blurred between their consciousness. Shared pleasure was
their only reality and they both gorged on it, feeling the
power overrun their individual identities, leaving one being
composed only of physical sensation behind.
Fire sheeted along Obi-Wan's nerves and he fought his impending
climax, wanting this moment to go on eternally. Let go,
beloved, I will find you if you lose yourself. The gentle
caress of his Master's thought brought the younger man's
consciousness crashing back just as Qui-Gon's hand closed over
his straining erection, milking his orgasm from him. Even
through the massive spasms shaking his body, he saw and felt
the older man tense and then was rewarded with a throbbing heat
deep inside him.
"Qui-Gon." The word was uttered lovingly after a time when the
only sounds heard in the room were the harsh gasps of the two
men and the thundering of their hearts.
"Obi-Wan?" Raising his head from his Padawan's shoulder, the
Jedi looked down at his love, serenity and love showing plainly
in the azure light of his eyes.
"I love you."
"I love you also, never forget that, no matter where the future
takes us."
This is where the future has taken us. A small room in the Jedi
Temple where I watch my apprentice move through an exercise as
old as the Code itself. He is almost done with his last
repetition and I search for the words to both offer
encouragement and correction. I am not a natural teacher as my
Master was. I lack . . . I do not know, perhaps I lack
confidence in myself in this matter but I persevere. It is our
way and I will not fail in this, my last promise to the man who
still holds my heart.
Would I have jumped so recklessly into love if I had known what
the future held? The question is absurd. The seven years we had
together as lovers is better than a lifetime of wondering and
guessing - seven days or even seven hours would have been worth
it.
Would things have changed any if we had not been lovers? I
cannot torture myself with this question. The Force moves as it
will and nothing we do can alter our destinies.
He has finished and is looking at me, those blue eyes seeming
somehow so much like my Master's - eyes that can see into my
very soul. Does he suspect that I doubt myself, doubt my
ability to train him to be the Jedi he would have been if
Qui-Gon had been the one standing here?
There is no try, there is only do. I know this and I
will live by it. Nodding and giving Anakin a small smile, I
step forward, shedding my robe as I do so. "You are doing well,
I am pleased."
His brilliant smile lights up the training room and it is easy
to see why others take to him so quickly. "Now, shall we try
the exercise together?"
Elation turns to concentration and he gives a determined nod.
"Yes, Master."
Exhaling and centering myself, I take up the starting position
opposite him and our eyes meet. Then, on my silent signal, we
begin. In the small part of my mind which is not given over to
the exercise, a faint thought coalesces in a voice that is not
mine. You are learning, Padawan.
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