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Hope's Dying Breath, Epilogue

by The Rose

Title: Hope's Dying Breath, Epilogue
Author: The Rose
Archive: M/A and my web site, http://www.sockiipress.org/~rose
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/O
Category: Hurt/Comfort, AU, I guess, since Qui-Gon survived Naboo, First Time
Warnings: Nothing graphic in this section, but a few reminders of torture and rape.
Spoilers: None
Feedback: <waves hand slowly in air> You WILL send feedback. Ah, come on! You know you want to! Either on-list or off to: rosarocaminis@yahoo.com
Disclaimers: George Lucas owns all things Star Wars and makes a fortune off of them. Me, I write for the fun of it and give it away for free.

Mucho thanks and nekkid chocolate-covered Jedi to Helen Stagie, for her thorough and insightful beta. I made the changes she suggested and she was right. Any remaining mistakes are mine, however.

A short summary of Hope's Dying Breath: Knight Kenobi was kidnapped on Coruscant while on a mission. His captor, Xell, said he had been hired for one purpose -- to torture Obi-Wan to death as slowly as possible. Bad things insued. At the last possible moment, Obi-Wan was rescued by Qui-Gon, Mace, and Healer Vortrella.

Much to Obi-Wan's disapproval, it ended up being three days before the healers removed the bandages from his eyes. They were still sensitive to light, still prone to tear up or blur without warning, so he was ordered to avoid sunlight and keep his quarters at no more than half the normal illumination. Not that he was planning to return to his lonely knight's quarters. For Qui-Gon wanted him to come home.

Home - to the quarters they had shared from the time of his apprenticeship until his knighting. Obi-Wan couldn't have been happier.

Well, he could have been, if they'd only let him out of the Healer's Wing. Though he argued long and loud, he was not allowed to leave for another endless day. Finally, however, both his healers released him.

"Ready to go?" Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan had to remember not to wince as the deep rumble stabbed through his still healing ears. He didn't want Qui-Gon to worry about him more than he already did.

"Absolutely," he replied, keeping his own tone very low. He sat up slowly, even that careful movement provoking a fresh round of vertigo, and felt his former Master's hand settle on his arm. His gaze fell on the hoverchair sitting just outside his door, and he frowned. "Oh, no. I'm not riding through the Temple in that thing."

"Oh, yes you are," Qui-Gon stated in the tone of an order. "I will not allow you to overtax yourself. You will use the hoverchair."

"You're not my master anymore," Obi-Wan growled, struggling to contain the anger that he thought he'd overcome as a padawan. It had returned with a vengeance since his time with Xell. He tugged on the last of the fresh clothes Qui-Gon had provided and got to his feet, glaring up into a stubborn expression he knew all too well. Indigo blue eyes, narrowed forebodingly, gazed down at him past a hawk-like nose. But instead of bringing about his immediate if grudging obedience, it only fueled his resentment. "And I'm not going to see the mind healer, no matter what you or the Council or the healers say!"

Instead of arguing, Qui-Gon took a step closer, stressing his much greater height, his bearded jaw set firmly. Instantly, unreasonable fear shivered through Obi-Wan's nerves, and he stumbled backward, losing his balance as the backs of his knees struck the bed. He fell, bouncing slightly on the firm mattress, and rolled to his right, evading the large hands that reached to catch him.

"I'm all right," he said tightly, forcing his voice to something near normal as he tried to stop trembling. "Guess my balance isn't as good as I thought."

He suspected the older man knew the truth, but Qui-Gon didn't respond except to move the hoverchair closer. Obi-Wan sighed dramatically, realizing this was one argument that he would not win.

"You are to keep your eyes closed until we're home," Qui-Gon said, his voice soft as if speaking to one of the frightened little creatures he frequently brought home. "The corridors are much too brightly lit. If you argue with me, I'll blindfold you."

Unbidden, the memory of Xell blindfolding him with mechanic's tape - and the agonizing torture that followed - flashed through Obi-Wan's mind. His trembling increased, making him stumble as he slid from the bed to the chair, but he managed to keep it out of his voice. "Yes, Master," he said.

"May I open my eyes now?" Obi-Wan asked petulantly when the chair finally came to a stop.

"Not until we're inside," Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan heard the door opening, felt hands on his shoulders urging him to his feet and supporting him when he swayed embarrassingly, then propelling him through the doorway. He saw brightness through his eyelids as the lights came up automatically.

"Lights, one quarter," Qui-Gon ordered. The hands leaned Obi-Wan against the doorframe before releasing him. "Now, you may open them."

As Qui-Gon keyed the hoverchair to return to the healers, Obi-Wan looked around, blinking back tears that had very little to do with his uncertain vision. A moment later, Qui-Gon stepped up beside him. "Good to be home?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, though he had to clear his throat before he could speak. He turned to drink in the sight before him, though it was difficult to see in what amounted to little more than candlelight. The couch, now littered with a half-completed 'droid of some unfamiliar type and a stack of Anakin's datapads, and the low table in front of it dominated the small space. Nearby sat Qui-Gon's worn but well-loved overstuffed chair. On the floor was the somewhat threadbare carpet that had always felt so good under his bare feet. His emotions may have been out of control lately, but now he felt a wash of contentment roll over him. Everything was going to be fine. "Yes. It's very good to be home."

He looked toward the open door to the padawan's room. "Where is Anakin?"

"Staying with a friend for the night." A supportive arm slipped around him. "Now, you're going to bed."

"I am not," Obi-Wan told him determinedly, edging out of his grip. "I've just come from spending days in bed. The couch will be fine."

Qui-Gon frowned but crossed to clear the couch then turned to help Obi-Wan settle down onto it, urging him to lie down.

"I'm not an invalid," Obi-Wan groused, hoping this over-protectiveness wasn't a hint of things to come.

"I know," Qui-Gon said, removing Obi-Wan's boots and fussing over him until he was comfortable. His face took on a somewhat haunted look.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked, uncertain how to read the expression he found there.

Qui-Gon knelt beside him.

"It was a miracle that you survived," the Jedi master said softly. He took a deep breath, and if steeling himself. "There is something we should discuss."

Obi-Wan knew from the look on Qui-Gon's face exactly what that something was. "I'm surprised no one's debriefed me yet about my ordeal. I assume that was your doing?"

Qui-Gon waved the idea off. "You were not in any condition to discuss it. But, now that you're recovering, the Council wants to see you."

"I imagine they do. When?"

"First thing in the morning," Qui-Gon said, and it was obvious he wasn't happy about it. "I told them you still weren't well enough, but they wouldn't listen."

"It's all right." Obi-Wan said, though the idea of reliving his ordeal before the Council sent a chill through him. He put the matter from his mind and settled back into the cushions, more tired than he had any right to be since all he'd been doing was resting. He looked up hopefully. "Perhaps we could spar afterwards?"

Qui-Gon gazed down at him as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head. "Spar? You're kidding, aren't you? No. We will not spar."

"Not even if I need to?" Obi-Wan snapped. He was instantly contrite, and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Forgive me, but I could use the exercise."

Not to mention the tension release, he added silently.

"You are in no condition to spar," Qui-Gon said. "We will go to the Council meeting, you will give your report, and we will come back here."

"We? The Council asked to see you, as well?"

"No. But, I told you - I do not plan to let you out of my sight for quite some time."

"Fine," the knight said shortly. He closed his eyes as a few aches and pains reasserted themselves, and he realized that he'd had no painkillers since early this morning. He accepted the discomfort as he'd been taught, releasing it to the Force.

There was a light touch on his hand before Qui-Gon rose to his feet. "We both missed late meal. Are you hungry?"

"I think I could eat."

Qui-Gon left him to putter about in the kitchen, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes again, letting the comfort of home seep through him. It felt good. It felt right. So why am I still so tense? he wondered. He went through a calming ritual he had used many times, and gradually felt the tight muscles in his back and shoulders ease. He must have dozed, because he was startled awake a few minutes later when Qui-Gon returned carrying a tray of sliced cheese and chilled, cubed meat.

"I am capable of walking to the kitchen table," Obi-Wan growled, as much to cover his jangling nerves and pounding pulse as in real irritation. Qui-Gon blinked at the tone but made no comment. Obi-Wan sat up, pausing briefly until the room quit spinning. He accepted a piece of cheese and nibbled at it. Feeling Qui-Gon's eyes on him, he looked up.

"What?" he prompted when the older man did not speak.

Qui-Gon sat down and took Obi-Wan's hand in his, studying the healing ligature marks on his wrist. "I nearly lost you," he said finally in a barely audible voice.

Obi-Wan swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I'm sorry that I worried you."

"That was scarcely your fault. In fact, much of your suffering was my fault."

The young knight felt his eyes open wide at that. "What? How in the Force could it have been your fault?"

"I sensed - something. I didn't know what, but I don't believe I tried hard enough to uncover the source. If I had, we might have gotten to you days sooner. We could have spared you -" He broke off on what sounded suspiciously like a choked back sob. Immediately, Obi-Wan pulled his hand free and used it to cup his master's bearded chin, lifting it so he could see his eyes.

"No matter what, this wasn't your fault," he said, stressing each word. But, Qui-Gon wouldn't look at him. He sagged back into the cushions with a sigh, knowing that his stubborn master was going to need convincing. "I assume you meditated on it?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon said with a slight nod.

"Did you discuss it with anyone? Yoda?"

"I did."

Obi-Wan waited, but Qui-Gon was not volunteering any information. "And? Did Yoda understand it?"

Qui-Gon shook his head mutely.

"So," Obi-Wan said, "if Yoda didn't know that I was in danger, how did you expect that you, mister 'live in the moment and don't center on your anxieties,' would be able to understand it?"

"You are my padawan -"

"Was your padawan," Obi-Wan interrupted. "And it's not like we parted on the best of terms."

"That was also my fault," Qui-Gon said, looking up finally. "I should have handled things better, not let such a rift develop between us."

"I contributed to that rift," Obi-Wan reminded him. "We both made mistakes, Master. Our bond was fragile at best when I left, and it's grown weaker over the years. That's as it's supposed to be, though, isn't it? The bond weakening, I mean? Do you have as strong a bond with Master Yoda now as you did when you still wore a padawan's braid?"

"No, of course not. But -"

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "But, you still feel responsible. Well, I don't blame you for anything, except for being a bantha's ass," he said, watching a brief but wry grin cross Qui-Gon's face at having his own words turned back on him.

"Can you forgive me?" Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan stroked his master's cheek. "Yes, if you can forgive me for being the same."

The corners of Qui-Gon's mouth twitched upward into a smile. "I believe I can do that."

He turned his face to plant a gentle kiss on Obi-Wan's palm, but Obi-Wan jerked away, folding his arms across his chest in an unconsciously defensive motion.

"Forgive me," Qui-Gon began.

"No," Obi-Wan interrupted. "This isn't your fault either."

He leaned against the arm of the couch, putting further distance between himself and the older man. "I guess it's just a bit of a delayed reaction, you know, to everything that happened."

"Of course," Qui-Gon said, setting the tray on the coffee table and rising. "I'll get the tea."

Kenobi, you idiot! the knight thought as he watched him go. Why the Sith are you flinching from him? Qui-Gon would never hurt you! But you're obviously quite capable of hurting him.

He waited until his master returned, accepting the steaming cup of tea, and sipped at it slowly. "I do love you, you know," he said softly.

"I know," Qui-Gon said with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Though, I find that difficult to believe. I'm self-absorbed, taciturn, sanctimonious, entirely too stubborn, and way too old for such a handsome young knight."

Obi-Wan grimaced. "And I am entirely too thin-skinned, too hotheaded, too reckless, and much too young and inexperienced for a Jedi Master of your caliber. None of which changes the way we feel, does it?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No." He set his cup on the table and drew a steadying breath.

Uh oh, Obi-Wan thought, suddenly nervous again.

"The healers told me that Xell didn't only torture you," Qui-Gon said, meeting Obi-Wan's eyes.

Obi-Wan's cup jangled in his hands, and he quickly set it down. He bit his lower lip. "You mean the rapes," he said, his voice breaking slightly on the word.

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "More than one?" he demanded.

"If you count -" Obi-Wan broke off. He drew his feet up onto the couch cushion and wrapped an arm around his knees, hugging them to his chest. Forcing his voice to calmness, he tried again. "He used my mouth once. I would have bitten his dick off if he hadn't had my jaws locked open."

Obi-Wan shuddered and closed his eyes, as if to shut out the memory as his mind flashed back to his torture at Xell's hands, to the thick, hard cock driving into him without mercy.

"And - was it your first time?" Qui-Gon asked softly.

Obi-Wan managed a weak smile. "To be penetrated? No. I was perhaps not quite as virtuous as you believed, Qui-Gon, not even as a padawan."

A sympathetic hand settled on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan threw himself to his feet, almost trembling from the touch. "I - want to go to bed," he said.

Qui-Gon was watching him closely, his eyes haunted. "You should try to eat more."

Obi-Wan's stomach definitely didn't approve of the idea. "I've had enough," he said. He turned toward the padawan's room before remembering that it was no longer his. "Where -"

"You will sleep in my bed," Qui-Gon said, standing and shifting away from him, ostensibly to gather the cups although Obi-Wan realized he was really just giving the knight breathing room.

Obi-Wan frowned, wanting to ask where Qui-Gon would sleep. He knew Anakin's bed wouldn't accommodate the master's large frame, and the couch was lumpy. Still, he didn't know if he'd be able to share a bed with anyone yet, not even Qui-Gon. Instead of voicing his concerns, however, he made his way silently to the master bedroom.

"Lights off," he ordered before the sensors could even register his presence. A cluster of softly glowing candles on the nightstand provided more than adequate illumination as he began to undress.

Alright, Kenobi, this is stupid, he chided himself a few minutes later as he sat half-clothed on the edge of Qui-Gon's oversized bed. There's nothing to be afraid of. You're a Jedi knight, for Sith's sake. Time to start acting like one!

He reached for the ties of his leggings, only to stop when his trembling fingers couldn't manage the knots. Finally giving up, he simply removed his boots and socks and crawled into bed that way. He drew the blanket up over his bare chest and concentrated on slowing his breathing as he waited for Qui-Gon to arrive.

It didn't take long. The older Jedi moved about the room, picking up Obi-Wan's discarded clothing and folding it as he had done when the padawan was young. "Comfortable?" he asked finally as he paused near the door.

Obi-Wan nodded. It seemed obvious now that Qui-Gon was not going to share the bed. He frowned, suddenly as edgy about being alone as he was uncomfortable with the idea of a bed partner. "Join me?" he suggested.

Qui-Gon's blue eyes studied him for a long moment before answering. "Perhaps in awhile. I have a few things to do first."

"Such as?"

A muscle in Qui-Gon's cheek twitched at the slightly accusatory tone. "Such as asking the quartermaster to have some of your things brought up here, asking stores to send up some of your favorite foods. Things like that."

"Oh." Obi-Wan blew out his breath, and most of his anxiety with it. All his aches had reaffirmed themselves, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and shut out the memories.

"Sleep, padawan," Qui-Gon said as he slipped out of the room. The touch of Force behind his words insured that Obi-Wan could do nothing but comply.

Much to Obi-Wan's chagrin, Qui-Gon did not come to bed. Where the master slept was a mystery, for he was up and had a light breakfast prepared before the knight awoke.

Obi-Wan did little more than nibble at his food, despite his master's prompting, uncharacteristically nervous about appearing before the Jedi Council. He embarrassed himself by getting angry when Qui-Gon called for a hoverchair and insisted he use it. This time, the healers had sent along a pair of dark glasses, so that the light level in the Council Chamber wouldn't injure his eyes. Now, as they waited outside the large double doors to be summoned, he found himself wringing his hands, and he forced himself to grip the chair's armrests instead.

What is wrong with me? he wondered, trying unsuccessfully to still the pounding of his heart. I'm a Jedi. I shouldn't be feeling this way.

Still, he couldn't get past his anxiety. His master's presence at his side was both a blessing and a curse. While the man's strength was a comfort, he most definitely didn't want Qui-Gon to see the turmoil raging inside him. The still deplorable state of his shields was proven a moment later as a large hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed briefly.

"Relax," Qui-Gon told him in a hushed voice. "They merely want details. No blame will be cast."

Obi-Wan nodded, but silently he doubted the older man's logic. The truth was, he knew it was a failure on his part to have been taken prisoner by Xell, and his shameless begging when the pain had grown too severe haunted him. The doors opened finally, and he rose, wanting to enter on his own two feet. Qui-Gon didn't argue, but Obi-Wan was grateful that his master stayed close at his side, ready to support him should his balance fail.

"Glad we are to see you, Knight Kenobi," Yoda said when the pair came to a halt in the center of the room. "Worried about you, we all have been."

Obi-Wan bowed carefully, seeing out of the corner of his eye Qui-Gon doing the same. "Thank you, Master."

Mace Windu frowned at Qui-Gon.

"Master Jinn, your presence is not required."

"If you want me to leave, you'll have to throw me out," Qui-Gon said, his eyes daring the Councilman to do just that. "And I'd like to note for the record that Obi-Wan is not recovered enough to be here."

Mace's frown deepened into a scowl, but he said nothing as Yoda spoke up. "Wish you that Qui-Gon leave, do you Knight Kenobi?"

"No, Master Yoda. I would prefer that he stay."

Yoda nodded. "Then stay he will," he said with a sidelong glance at Mace.

"We just have a few questions," Mace said, his business-like tone sounding somehow threatening. "First of all, do you have any idea of your kidnapper's identity, or why he wished to hurt you?"

"I take it, then, that he hasn't been apprehended?" Obi-Wan said, folding his arms into his sleeves to hide the shiver the topic caused, though he suspected they saw it anyway.

"No," Mace said with a slight frown. "You were the only one in the building when we arrived. He was careful and left nothing behind to identify himself, and what few fingerprints we found are untraceable."

"He called himself Xell, although I doubt that was his real name," Obi-Wan said, not surprised that the torturer had gotten away. The man was much too smart to be easily captured. "And, he said he was working for someone. Someone who --- who wanted me tortured slowly to death."

Beside him, he heard Qui-Gon's breath catch, and several of the Council members actually paled.

"You personally, Obi-Wan, and not merely a Jedi?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

"Yes, Master."

"The investigating team will want a description," Mace continued.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I can provide that."

"How long were you there?" Adi Gallia asked gently.

"Four days," Obi-Wan said, keeping his gaze averted from the sympathetic ones that were watching him much too closely, as if waiting for him to break down. His hands and knees had begun to tremble, and he wasn't certain how much longer his legs would support him. Resolutely, he squared his shoulders and clinched his still-healing hands around his elbows, ignoring the pain it caused.

"Can you explain to this Council exactly how it was that you were captured?" Mace asked, and Obi-Wan wondered if he meant the question to be as critical as it sounded.

Obi-Wan drew in a shaky breath, feeling a few drops of cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck. "That was sheer stupidity on my part, I'm afraid. As you know, I was undercover, investigating a smuggling operation, and I followed the ringleader back to Coruscant. As soon as I left my ship, I knew I was being followed. Assuming it to be nothing more than some petty criminal out to rob me, and not wanting to lose the smuggler, I pushed it to the back of my mind as inconsequential. I only had a second's warning through the Force before I was hit in the side by a blaster bolt.

"I can't imagine why, but it knocked me out cold," he continued, not trying to gloss over his failings. "Maybe Xell did something - he was a Force user, by the way, or at least Force sensitive - or maybe it was some new kind of blaster. At any rate, when I woke up, I was in that room where you found me."

"So, do you believe they were on to you? That the ringleader is the one who hired Xell?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, absolutely not. There was never any reason to believe that. Xell said that he'd been watching me for awhile, planning the abduction. Someone else must have hired him, someone unconnected to the mission I was on."

"So," Adi said. "This was a personal assault then, not an attack on you as a Jedi."

Mace leaned forward before Obi-Wan could answer. "Have you any particular enemies?"

The knight attempted a wry smile. "Jedi always have enemies. My master taught me that."

He felt Qui-Gon shift beside him and a hum of amusement reached him through their bond, though it was colored with worry.

Mace steepled his fingers. "Did you attempt to escape?" he asked, and Obi-Wan felt himself bristle at the implications.

"Of course I did!" he snapped. Eyebrows raised all around the room, and he immediately smoothed out his tone, though his anger didn't fade. "Forgive me, but I was Force-blocked, unarmed, and injured. Plus, Xell had two very strong droids that came in every morning before he did. I wasn't able to overpower them."

"What questions did Xell ask you?" Mace asked, staring at him as if he was the lowest sort of lifeform, "And what answers did you give?"

Obi-Wan stiffened, shifting from one foot to the other as pain streaked up his legs. "I didn't --!" he began, but Qui-Gon cut him off.

"Enough!" the Jedi Master growled. "Obi-Wan is the victim here, not a criminal. This meeting is over."

He caught Obi-Wan by the shoulders and turned him toward the door.

"We're not finished with him!" Mace Windu shouted, getting to his feet.

Obi-Wan was shaking all over and he knew Qui-Gon felt it both through his hands and their bond. He continued to propel the knight out of the room. "Oh, yes you are!" Qui-Gon called back over his shoulder, not slowing.

He didn't stop until the Council doors had closed behind them. There, he gathered Obi-Wan into his arms, pulling him tightly against his chest. The grip felt at once comforting and confining, and it was all the knight could do not to struggle free of it.

"It's all right," Qui-Gon soothed.

"All right?" Obi-Wan pulled away to look up into his master's face. "It isn't all right! It may never be all right again!"

Qui-Gon blinked, and suddenly his look of sympathetic understanding was more than Obi-Wan could stand.

"I broke, don't you understand that?" he shouted, heedless of the young padawan who was acting as Council receptionist. She averted her eyes and hurried out of the room. "I broke under Xell's torture, begging and sobbing like an infant! I'm not fit to be a Jedi! Maybe I never was!"

He tried to retreat, but strong hands caught his shoulders and pinned him in place. "That's not the truth and you know it," Qui-Gon said tightly.

"Do I?" Obi-Wan shook his head. He wrapped his arms around himself to ward off a sudden chill. "I was trained for this, trained as a Jedi to withstand torture, and not to crumble under it. So, why did I break? Why did this affect me so?"

"Adi said it," Qui-Gon said. "This was a personal assault, not an attack on you as a Jedi, but an attack on you, as Obi-Wan. That's something you weren't prepared for."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "That shouldn't matter."

"But, it does matter." He pulled Obi-Wan close again, one hand stroking the tensed muscles in his back. "You survived against all the odds, Obi-Wan. You should be proud of yourself."

But, I'm not, Obi-Wan answered silently as Qui-Gon broke the hug and steered him back to the hoverchair. Nothing more was said while they made the long trek back to their quarters.

The silence between them held for a long time. The Jedi Master got Obi-Wan settled on the couch once again, then went to the small desk in the corner of the room, ostensibly to work. But, he kept glancing at Obi-Wan out of the corner of his eye, obviously keeping close tabs on him.

For his part, Obi-Wan made a conscious attempt to relax and find his center. It had never been so hard. The little aches of the day before had grown into serious pain, and try as he might, he was unable to deal with it. He was grateful, if a little humiliated, when Qui-Gon finally turned from his work with a sigh.

"Would you like some help managing that pain?" he asked.

Even though he welcomed the help, Obi-Wan felt his mouth tighten into a thin line. "What?" he found himself snapping. "You think I can't handle it?"

Qui-Gon's gaze bored into his, but the older man refusing to be baited. "I know that you're hurting, and thought you might like for it to stop. Am I wrong?"

Obi-Wan dropped his head back onto the couch cushion. "No, you're not wrong," he said by way of apology. "I'm just - I don't know."

"You're upset," Qui-Gon said, rising and moving toward him.

"I'm more than upset!" Obi-Wan growled. "I'm angry and frustrated and jumpy as hell, and I have no idea why!"

"It's called delayed stress reaction," Qui-Gon told him gently. "It's quite to be expected."

"Even for a Jedi?" Obi-Wan asked bitterly.

Qui-Gon knelt before him. "Even for a Jedi." He reached out to capture Obi-Wan's hands, holding them gently between his own. "Center yourself."

"That's the problem. I can't!"

Qui-Gon merely nodded, and insinuated himself into their bond. Follow my lead, Qui-Gon said directly into his mind. He led the knight through some basic relaxation techniques, then helped him to acknowledge what his body was telling him and to release it to the Force. The terrible ache in his hands was the first to ease. Slowly, the sensation seeped through the rest of his body.

The relief was almost an agony in itself. It's as if, Obi-Wan thought, I think I deserve the pain.

You don't, Qui-Gon assured him, having heard the thought. Perhaps tomorrow we can work on your shielding.

Obi-Wan nodded gratefully and looked up at Qui-Gon, horrified to feel his eyes welling up with tears despite the room's comfortably low lighting. "Do you really love me, Qui-Gon?" he asked in a hushed, husky voice.

"How can you even ask that? Of course I do. Very much."

"Then, make love to me." Obi-Wan pulled one hand free and ran a finger down Qui-Gon's cheek and across his lips. "Make love to me, and help me forget the torture."

A shadow Obi-Wan couldn't interpret darkened Qui-Gon's face. "Obi-Wan, I don't think -"

"You don't think you want to?" the knight asked, his voice breaking on the last word.

"Of course I want to. But, Obi-Wan, you've been through a terrible ordeal, both physically and mentally. You're not well enough -"

Obi-Wan interrupted him with a soft, lingering kiss. "Please, Qui-Gon," he said, allowing his need to seep into his voice.

"Obi-Wan, it's too soon -"

"I'll show you too soon," the knight growled. He slipped one hand behind Qui-Gon's neck to pull him forward for another kiss. It was not the soft, gentle kiss he intended, but instead one that deepened rapidly until he was thrusting his tongue into the other's mouth, nearly devouring him alive. When he broke off, the face before him was flushed with arousal, and he knew his own looked much the same.

Still, Qui-Gon made no move to reciprocate. "I will not cause you further harm," he said.

With a growl, Obi-Wan shoved the tall man backwards, driving him to the floor and falling on top of him, pressing Qui-Gon down under his weight. "You think I'm damaged?" he snapped. "You think I can't decide what I want, what I need?"

"No. I-"

"I'll show you what I need!"

Obi-Wan began to tear at Qui-Gon's clothes, throwing belt and sash aside and ripping open tunics in his desperate quest for bare skin. Obi-Wan found a nipple and drew it into his mouth, sucking furiously. The master writhed beneath him, hands latched onto Obi-Wan's shoulders though they did not attempt to remove him. When Obi-Wan finally pressed one thigh against the hard erection still hidden inside Qui-Gon's leggings, the older man groaned aloud.

"This isn't a good idea," he said, his voice hoarse with need. "You're not ready."

"Fuck me!" the knight demanded. "Fuck me, and make me forget about Xell, or so help me I'll fuck you instead!"

Slowly, Qui-Gon nodded. He rolled them over so that they were on their sides facing each other, then captured Obi-Wan's face between his large hands. Their lips met again, the kiss this time soft and tender.

It was nothing like Xell's touch, and Obi-Wan felt himself relaxing into it. Within moments, he was trembling with need and desperately aroused. Qui-Gon reached down with one hand and stroked the engorged cock hidden beneath the layers of Obi-Wan's clothing.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked. "If you're not, if at any time you wish to stop, all you have to do is ask."

Obi-Wan slid one hand behind the master's neck, entwining his fingers in that thick mane of hair. "Oh, yes, I'm ready. I've wanted it for so long . . ." He pulled Qui-Gon closer, flicking his tongue across that full lower lip, savoring the taste of him.

Without warning, Qui-Gon rose, holding a hand down to Obi-Wan in offering. "Then, let us take this to bed, shall we? I'm too old to be making love on the floor."

"Oh, yes," the knight moaned. He let Qui-Gon pull him to his feet and lead him to the bedroom. There, his master slowly, tenderly undressed him.

When the knight was down to only his leggings, Qui-Gon stood back to look. "Force, you're beautiful," he breathed.

"Less talk, more action," Obi-Wan prompted, falling backwards onto the mattress and reaching up with both arms to invite the older man closer.

With a smile, Qui-Gon stretched out beside him and captured his mouth again. Large, strong hands groped whatever patch of bare skin they could find, and finally one slipped down and grasped his cock.

"No!" Obi-Wan screamed. He shoved Qui-Gon away in a blind panic, terror shivering through him at the familiarity of that touch. It was too much like Xell's - strong, demanding, forceful - and Obi-Wan curled himself into a ball in order to escape it. Dimly, as if from a great distance, he heard his master calling to him.

"Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan! It's me, padawan, only me!"

He heard the voice, knew that Xell was not here, but he couldn't force himself to turn and meet the other's eyes.

"I'm calling the mind healer," Qui-Gon said, rising from the bed, and at last Obi-Wan rolled over.

"No," he said, though his voice was quivering with emotion. "No, please don't."

Qui-Gon knelt beside him carefully not touching him. "Obi-Wan, you need help to get past this."

The knight shook his head. "I need time, Qui-Gon. Can you give me that?"

Qui-Gon made an abortive move closer, though he stopped himself from reaching out. "Yes," he said finally. "I will give you all the time you need. But I still think . . ."

"I'll be fine," Obi-Wan assured him. He made himself relax. "I'm sorry, Master."

"Sith, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said in a tone of deep regret. "It's not your fault. I don't know what I was thinking. After what you've been through . . ."

Obi-Wan shook his head, cutting the older man off in mid sentence. "Please don't be sorry. Please don't regret touching me. I want it, I really do. But, I guess I'm just not ready." He looked up into the blue eyes that gazed down at him. "Will you still be there when I am?" he asked.

Qui-Gon smiled, and Obi-Wan knew that somehow, someday, everything would be all right.

"Oh, yes, my beloved," the master said. "I will be here whenever you need me."

The End (for now)