Love Is Not The Only Blindness (The Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead Remix)

by Fishgoat (master_fishgoat@yahoo.com)

Spoilers: minor ones for Episode III (which were all explained in Episodes IV-VI anyway)

Summary: Obi-Wan and his lover indulge in a little covert voyeurism, among other things. (Q/O, O/OFC)

Notes: This story was re-written for Remix Redux II - Electric Bugaloo. http://remix.illuminatedtext.com/remixfaq.htm For those who don't know, a remix challenge is where people are assigned another author (all are volunteers) and rewrite one of their stories, which are then posted anonymously. Authors are revealed after a week or so. What say we start something like this on M_A?

She sits in front of the flickering vid screen, waiting, idly running her fingers through her short blond hair. She glances up at the picture of the bedroom in question, which is still empty. Hopefully with luck and Obi-Wan's legendary persuasiveness that will change.

She smiles. She has faith in her Obi. It was ridiculously easy for him to put the camera into the bedroom, so trusting Master Jinn was. He will succeed in this other task as easily, she is certain.

Despite the years of Jedi training she finds herself tapping the console, body thrumming with poorly repressed anticipation. She frowns. She will not lose her control now and risk failure, not when her goal is nearly achieved. One deep breath later she is still again, watchful. In a few moments Obi-Wan will be at his former Master's chambers. And then --

Ishi's violet fingers idly tap the console again. This time she uses the rhythm as a calming mantra, settling herself a little deeper into the eddies of the Force, seeking out her Obi in the currents there.

There you are, my love, she smiles. A wordless caress to her pet is returned absently. Obviously Obi-Wan is distracted with anticipation as well.

"Do not worry, my Ishi. I will accept his answer either way. And if he says yes, I will promise him a night to remember, and we will have many nights rewatching it for our own pleasure."

The door buzzer interrupts her brief reverie and refocuses her attention on the now. At last, the show begins.

She imagines him, dressed in the clothes of her choosing: brown, form fitting leggings, his usual boots, and a simple white tunic, sleeveless to show off his muscular arms. She licks her lips - if such a simple costume can make such a one as she wet and wanting, surely a Jedi Master will not be able to resist. She chuckles gleefully in anticipation of Master Jinn's downfall.

She hears their voices indistinctly through the hidden microphone. No way to tell by sound if this is working. She checks the Force currents again. Still too soon, she thinks. She keeps an 'eye' on the two Jedi, waiting for that telltale flare.

Ah! There it is. That flash of energy that can only mean a burst of love mingled heavily with arousal. A perfect hook for her needs.

She waits, waits until the Jedi Master's last resistance fades, and the flare she saw earlier begins to blaze continuously. She checks on Obi-Wan and is satisfied to see that, while certainly lustful enough, his energy field does not show any sign of strong sentiment. She does not want him caught in the same net after all.

She looks at the vid screen and can see the two of them lie down on the bed. In her mind she sees the energy flows that overlay the scene of the two men making love. Unobtrusively she observes and feeds the elder's need, slowly, gently seducing his deep mind to the pleasures of the tempest as Obi-Wan seduces his body.

She herself begins to feel aroused at both the images on the vid screen and the energy flows within her mind. Absently a hand slides between her clothed thighs as she watches her Obi loving his former Master. So strong in the Force he is, this Jinn, so deliciously vulnerable.

She hears the whispered words but the meaning does not register with her ears. She feels them, and they tell the tale of his control shredding, his need overtaking any coherent thought or suspicion he might have, obliterating any notice of anything untoward. Her fingers tease herself in tandem with their rapture.

She laughs silently as she remembers preparing Obi herself. She had almost made him come then and there. Silly Jedi, always so easily manipulated.

Another glance at the vid screen makes her gasp in delight. Oh and so pretty with his ass in the air! Distracted, she nearly abandons her goal of subterfuge in her sudden haze of lust. She quells it sternly, removing her hand briskly from between her thighs. Not now, she thinks viciously, immensely displeased with herself for losing her hard-earned discipline. Getting caught in her own plots would be unbearably shameful, and would most likely end in unpleasant death.

Calming herself she watches as Qui-Gon positions his cock at Obi's opening, pushing in slowly.

She can tell that it is almost time for her to trance. She can feel the Jedi Master lose all ability to reason, his thoughts disappearing in the roar of animalistic pleasure. Soon, soon....

His orgasm shakes him open and she quickly, stealthily, plants a link into his mind, so softly that it is undetected. Eyes blind in trance, she floats in the endless now waiting for the perfect moment.

The hours pass. They sleep. She stays motionless. Qui-Gon wakes up briefly to continue their lovemaking. She monitors them. She sees the Jedi Master's love grow, and, surprisingly, Obi's. She frowns. No, that will not do. With a light twist of her thought she stifles any such tender feelings within him before they can take hold. Let Obi think it the mere remnants of a crush long past. He must not feel more than that if her Master's plan is to work.

She listens absently to Master Jinn's endearments as her Obi lies sleeping, watching him glow in the Force like a nova. Oh, how poetic the Jedi is, she thinks ironically, sighing his love in terms of bad poetry. Ah, well. He will crush the prettier for it in the morning.

She waits immobile as dawn breaks. She barely registers Qui-Gon getting out of bed, leaving her Obi asleep. She waits still as Obi finally awakens and, checking first to see if Qui-Gon is around, walks over to where the miniature camera had been hidden and reaches for it. The screen goes black.

She doesn't need it anymore. The tendrils of Force she senses are enough to announce the long awaited moment.

And then...there. Yes, she can feel the light of the Master's love begin to dim and blacken as he discovers his love is not returned as he had thought. At his moment of deepest despair she carefully follows the link she had made earlier to insinuate herself into his mind, adding a little poison to his now considerable dark potential before she withdraws in quiet triumph. The more fool you, Master Jinn, loving where love cannot exist.

A few deep breaths returns her to waking reality. Sighing contentedly she turns off the vidscreen and removes the recording disc from its slot. She holds the silver disc in her palm, a piquant reward for a task skillfully completed.

The hurt will fester, and the Master will weaken. His support in the person of his former apprentice she will take away, perhaps on a far- off mission. Jinn's Master and colleagues will be blinded by the coming war. Alone and bitter he will ill train the Chosen One. And when it is time, the Chosen One will Fall.

She puts the disc on the top of the console and, stretching, gets up from the now uncomfortable chair. She looks over as Obi-Wan walks into their quarters, faintly trembling, face white.