Master Apprentice
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"It would be best if you dealt with the river, Master." Though this had already been decided, Obi-Wan spoke up above the noise, in case Qui-Gon decided to test him with a surprise.
Still crouched on the edge of the cliff that overhung the flooded canyon, Qui-Gon looked up at his Sonju and gave a quick grin.
"Still uncomfortable with that much living energy, Obi-Wan? I will not insist. Your sure touch with the boulders and beams will be welcome."
Leaning over the older man's broad shoulders, Obi-Wan looked down as well. Thirty feet below them, the river churned and roared, an angry body of reddish-green water that carried with it the remains of houses, and trees and debris.
It had rained for nearly two weeks on the southern continent of Abijzon, and, unknown to the inhabitants, who were busy trying to save their livelihoods, protecting farms and families, the constant soaking had undermined the pillars of the canyon damn, an ancient construct of boulders and mud, reinforced with a little concrete.
Abijzon was a poor planet, mostly agricultural, most of its citizens happy to live peaceful lives ruled by the two suns and the weather, and they'd had no way to predict either the monsoon-like rains or the floods that had followed.
Fortunately, an eagle-eyed old man had noticed the stress upon the damn and convinced enough people that it was in danger; most in the way of the wall of water that had come crashing down had managed to get out of the valley and survive. But their homes and farms and livestock were gone, washed away. Now the rain had stopped, and the first item of business in the clean-up was to restore the damn, and hopefully convince the floodwaters to return to their home behind it.
A huge undertaking; not one usually attempted by only a couple of ex-Jedi. Or retired? After five months Obi-Wan still wasn't sure of their exact status. They had kept their lightsabers, and Qui-Gon still spoke to the Council every two weeks. Or, mostly, the Council ranted at him and demanded that they return.
Obi-Wan was relieved that he didn't have to be present for those sessions, though he felt mildly guilty for not standing by his mate's side. But Qui-Gon insisted that his presence would only make things worse, and remind the others of just exactly why they had left in the first place.
Not like anyone could forget. He thought. The cloud of light Force-drawn color danced in the air around them, a vivid aura. Lavender and green, it announced their relationship to anyone who knew enough to see it. He felt oddly relaxed, despite the daunting task they faced. They were safe, they were together and, in answer to his greatest fears about leaving, they were doing good things.
They weren't negotiating treaties or protecting royalty, or even fighting great battles. But he believed that every little thing, and every big thing they had done in the past five months was as important as any diplomatic assignment the Council had ever sent them on.
And they were learning so much. About themselves, the Force, and their relationship and what it meant. It made them stronger. Able to contemplate something like putting a river back behind a damn.
The Council has hobbled itself by preventing bondings like ours. Qui-Gon agreed, rising with a smooth movement. He seemed younger now, though his hair carried as much silver as ever, perhaps more. But the aches and pains that had begun to annoy him, just a bit, had faded, and he could feel the strength that ran through his muscles, like he had when he was twenty and thirty.
Obi-Wan admired him openly as he stretched, and Qui-Gon rolled his eyes slightly, mocking his own vanity, minor as it was.
I'm past sixty, love. Though I feel stronger, my appearance has not changed.
And I would pray that it did not, should such a thing be in my nature. With those words and a soft laugh, Obi-Wan slipped his arms around Qui-Gon from behind, hugging him tightly and pressing his face to the broad back. file:Once I knew I would lose you to age and spend the rest of my years alone, but now I no longer believe that. You will be with me all the years of my life
"Yes." Answering softly, Qui-Gon turned in the embrace and wrapped his long arms around the smaller man. The roar of the water beneath them almost drowned out the sound. He kissed the top of Obi-Wan's head affectionately.
They stood for a few moments, soaking up the comfort that touch provided, and then Qui-Gon pulled away.
We'll have time for that later. It was almost a scold, but he was teasing as well, and Obi-Wan smirked at him, knowing well that they would have time, and they would make best use of it.
At the beginning of this self-chosen exile, they had both felt at loose ends; surprisingly, Obi-Wan more so than Qui-Gon. The older man, though he had spent his entire life in service and battle, had found it within himself to enjoy a bit of enforced relaxation; he had studied things he'd been putting off, and read, and researched, and generally taken the life of a scholar, a role Obi-Wan didn't have any trouble seeing him in. But for Obi-Wan, not as given to quiet pursuits, it had been harder. His guilt had eaten at him as he spent too many hours of the days worrying and wondering what had gone wrong that they should be out in the Republic fixing.
But soon enough word had reached them of a slaver attack on a rim planet, and off they had gone, and returned triumphant, the slavers captured, their victims returned to their homes and families. Not the sort of mission Jedi undertook, but it suited them. After that had been a plague on Friggia 4, and an emergency barter three-systems wide to obtain the needed vaccine, and Obi-Wan had learned something new about his master, and been awed by the man's ability to deal with anyone of any class.
All of their missions had been things too minor or too esoteric for the Council to concern themselves with and they were happy with that arrangement. Obi-Wan did not feel like he was doing anything less important than what he'd once done, just different. Perhaps, if there weren't so few Jedi, more would do things like this. Little things, really.
But there weren't enough Jedi, and he felt a surge of guilt, because now there were two less.
Don't. Qui-Gon's fingers stroked his face as the older man faced the river. He dropped to his knees, spread wide for balance, and extended his arms, preparing to call to the river, like some pagan God. file:We are where the Force has guided us to be.
I know. Standing behind him, hands resting on the broad shoulders, Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself really feel the current of Force that sang between them. It had become so much a part of him that he didn't really notice it now. file:I love you.
My Obi. Fond amusement teased him, and then Qui-Gon was all business. file:Shall we begin?
He gave a squeeze with his hands to say yes, and felt the change in the air as Qui-Gon opened himself to the Force, effortlessly weaving himself into the web of life that surrounded them. There were gaping holes, deep wounds rent by the disaster, and the Force seemed willing to help them heal this land.
Without a thought for the danger, Qui-Gon bound his life essence to the raging river, and, gently at first, called it to his hand. It obeyed, reluctantly, and Obi-Wan could feel the tension in the shoulders he gripped. He had energy to spare but did not share it, knowing he would need it when his turn came. Instead he offered love and support and knew them to be as powerful.
He slitted his eyes open, trying to watch both the web of Force and the world around him. The river had stopped churning and was still, as if on a calm day, an unnatural stillness that it was starting to protest.
Then Qui-Gon began to draw it back, and it fought him. It was the nature of water to run free, and he wanted to cage it again. With something like awareness the river protested, but gradually gave in.
Heat was rising from the large body, Obi-Wan felt his knees grow warm where they touched his Master's back, and sweat ran down his face. The amount of Force energy Qui-Gon was channeling was awe-inspiring.
And the river was turning. Angry, frustrated, it was backing up on itself, the current flowing uphill, leaving the broken remains of homes and farms in its wake, froth whipped white on the tops of the waves, evidence of its anger. He could see why there were so many religions that worshipped water and the Gods that seemed to make it behave thus.
He felt a twitch in the Force, and knew that he needed to get ready to begin his part. He'd studied the broken damn for hours already, and had chosen the first boulder that would need to be moved into place, the linchpin that would anchor the others. On the banks above the damn hundreds of Abijzonas waited with buckets of concrete and plaster-mud, for him to start. They would go down the front of the damn and cement the boulders into their new places, chinking the gaps between them, making it once again a solid structure.
He and Qui-Gon had wanted to do it all themselves, but the natives had insisted that they be allowed to help. It was their damn, their valley, and then needed to have a hand in this, despite the danger. If Qui-Gon lost control of the river, or Obi-Wan dropped a boulder, hundred could be killed.
The trust these people placed in them was almost terrifying. In ways, it had been better when they were hated and feared, as Jedi were on so many planets.
Now, Obi. The strain was apparent in Qui-Gon's mental voice and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to rush his part. It was delicate work, despite the size of the building blocks he maneuvered. Some of the boulders had to be ten or twenty tons, more than he had ever lifted by himself before. It wasn't easy, but he could do it, and he did.
When the first one, the largest, a gigantic, roughly-block shaped piece of granite and iron, settled right where he wanted it, a cheer rose from the people watching. Previously silenced by the sight of the river running backwards, now they gave voice to their wonder as one, and the sound was great in the sudden silence left by the absence of the river.
Working as quickly as he could, Obi-Wan lifted the boulders one after another, stacking them like children's toys, carefully building a foundation that would hold for another two hundred years, or more.
Soon the face of the dam swarmed with the tiny figures of people, the numbers overcoming the enormity of their task, and every surface was plastered with concrete or mud, and it hardened in the bright light of the two suns that were high overhead now. Baking along with the mud, Obi-Wan felt the ache that began in Qui-Gon's back and legs, felt the weariness that began to sap his strength, and carefully fed a bit of his own to his Sonju, who accepted it with a touch of wry gratitude.
His part of the mission was the more difficult. The river had to be held clear of the damn until all was in place. Obi-Wan could place a boulder and perhaps rest a second or two, even a few minutes, before lifting another, but the river would take advantage of any break in concentration. This was where Qui-Gon excelled; his purity of concentration could never be shaken. Obi-Wan suspected that if he were to be run through where he knelt, as he died he would hold that river, passing from this life to the next with that hold firmly in place.
Maudlin meanderings. The deep voice in his head rumbled. Night comes.
It was indeed getting dark. Twilight came gently here, first one and then the other sun slipping out of sight. Obi-Wan stepped up his efforts, but the people were lagging, their endurance drained. With utmost care, uncertain if it was safe, he directed a tendril of energy toward those still active, and saw the wave of startlement that passed over them before they put it to work, renewed.
Very nicely done. Qui-Gon commented. I should have thought of it.
You have enough on your mind at the moment. Obi-Wan replied, grunting aloud as he lifted one of the last boulders high and then set it gently in the cradle he'd created for it between three others. Gently, yes, but the sound it made as it settled echoed through the canyon; booming, rolling rock sound. file:Only three more.
The line of single boulders on the top of the damn was almost complete, he only needed the three in the center, and he would be finished. He'd built from the sides in toward the center to use the weight of the boulders themselves to help hold the structure in place. The water did not reach this high, so he spoke to Qui-Gon as he started on the next.
I think you can let it go now. Just to try it out. He felt the weariness that Qui-Gon was emanating all too clearly.
Is the surface dry and solid? There was a ripple in the Force and he felt the older man testing the strength of the damn's covering, tentatively testing the holes and gaps filled by it. Then he hurried along the drying process where it had lagged.
As he lifted the las boulder Obi-an heard a shout, and his attention was distracted. he lowered it, not quite in place, and his eyes searched for the cause of the alarm, which was growing louder.
There. Qui-Gon directed his attention to the dangling figure of a person - man or woman, now way to tell at this distance - who had apparently fallen and now hung above the rocky, bare bottom of the canyon from one of the second level of boulders. Can you get her?
Yes, Master. With a careful touch Obi-Wan reached out, his arm leading the gesture, and plucked the victim from the air, setting them safely on a ledge to one side, where she could climb to safety or be lifted. His own strength was waning, he had to finish quickly.
The last boulder had to be lifted again, and his mind protested, he was suddenly tired, so tired. Exhaustion seeped into him.
Let me help. There was a rush and a roar and he realized that Qui-Gon had released the river, which immediately began pounding at the walls that imprisoned it again, and then Qui-Gon was leaning back, using Obi-Wan's legs for support, and adding what power he had left to the effort. The boulder wobbled in midair, and then sat, at last, in the spot designed for it.
Can I fall down now? Obi-Wan asked as his legs buckled. He slipped to the ground, thinking briefly that Qui-Gon would have done so gracefully, and then lay still, barely aware of the warmth at his side as his Master joined him.
They rested.
Above them twin moons shone with diffused silver light, and around them the world grew silent. The river stopped pounding the walls and became once again a captured entity.
They had asked the people to stay away afterwards, knowing they would want to be alone, and it was a relief when they finally moved to find that their wishes had been honored. Several yards away from the clifftop a camp was prepared and eventually they managed to drag themselves over to it, and curl together in a nest of warm blankets as a spring night became cool.
The need for physical touch had faded slightly as they fed it with constant contact, and so the cuddling was enough to satisfy them for long hours.
Finally, with the first hints of dawn showing in the night around them, Qui-Gon roused enough to get his tunic off, his hands shaking, and he pushed Obi-Wan's open so that he could touch bare skin, and latched on to a nipple, suckling, eyes close, as peaceful as a baby at the breast. His hair was a warm curtain of silk over Obi- Wan's skin and he moaned, low, encouraging.
Big hands slid into his leggings and caressed his aching hardness, and he could feel Qui-Gon's cock throbbing against his leg and he moved to rub the thigh muscle into it more firmly, and was rewarded by a moan that made his belly shiver.
Qui-Gon kissed his way to the other nipple, which was already hard and needy, and Obi-Wan writhed sinuously, moaning continuously now, feeling the slow thrusts against his leg as the big hands wrapped around him and stroked.
It was slow, but powerful, and he arched into the weight that held him down. Qui-Gon sucked strongly, tongue working the little nub of flesh, his hands gripping tighter, and Obi-Wan came with a deep sigh, then felt his Sonju freeze momentarily before bucking hard against him.
"Force." Qui-Gon gasped. "I've never come so hard without being touched before."
"Mmm." Tugging gently at silvered hair, Obi-Wan urged him up until the bigger body completely covered his own. With a touch of the Force he covered them both, sighing with pleasure as Qui-Gon rested his head on Obi-Wan's shoulder, his breath gusting hot in his ear. "They'll leave us alone all day?"
"They have much to do, love. First the cleanup, and then rebuilding. It will be a generation or more before all of the damage is repaired." A big hands stroked his side, lazily, warm.
"The ship is waiting in orbit?"
"You know it is." The ship Bail had provided took them wherever they decided they needed to go. It gave them a sense of freedom they were unused to.
"Then I want to spend the day here. Listening to the river."
The trickle of water that had escaped the damn could be heard, if they listened closely. It had been designed that way, to let out just enough while holding the rest back. Soon the trickle would become a river once again; smaller, quieter, safer. Controlled.
"We can do that." Qui-Gon reared up on his elbows and smiled down at him. It was blinding in the soft light. Thick fingers touched his face; eyes, nose, forehead, cheeks, chin. Almost reverently. "We can do anything you want to."
"What do you want, my Master?" Obi-Wan framed the rough face with both hands.
"Everything I want is right here." Qui-Gon assured him. "All that I dreamed, and more."
There was nothing Obi-Wan could say to that, so he only opened his mouth, begging for a kiss, and tried to put all that he felt into the touch of lips and tongue.
They were still in limbo, still uncertain as to their places in the world. But there would never be doubt as to their place with each other.
The river ran quietly, a power all its own, like the Force that guided it.
On a cliff high above it a cloud of dancing light drew the eyes of the valley people as they rose fm their rest, to a world changed almost overnight. It was just dark enough to make out the colors of the lights; lavender, green and silver, pale against the rising dawn.
Silently, privately, they gave thanks, and turned themselves to their labor.
End.