Master Apprentice Archive Marks Quick search:

Marks

by micehell (micehell at rodentinferno dot com)

Archive: M-A archive
Category: Q/O, A/U, First Time, H/C
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Rough sex, and a backhanded mention of chan
Feedback: As you will.
Disclaimer: The only thing that belongs to me is a little effort and a lot of debt. Everything else belongs to not me.
Summary: A moonlit garden, a compelling stranger, and change. Obi-Wan learns to embrace them all.
A/N: Like last time, this is nothing (all that) new. It's the story I'd mentioned in the last happy_bday comm post. Just wanted to get it up on the archive.

Obi-Wan tried to hurry without looking like he was hurrying, using every Force trick he had at his disposal to travel the halls unseen. If his luck held out, he could get to the kitchen without anyone ever knowing he was late.

"Kenobi. Were you not supposed to be on kitchen duty today?"

His luck was obviously holding to its normal course, all bad. He turned to face Master Windu, trying to think of a better excuse than 'I lost track of time because it's so beautiful outside, and I kept dreaming that I would never have to come back here.' The best his mind would provide him was, "I'm sorry, Master Windu. It won't happen again."

"Yes, so you've said many times." His face was grave, his bearing so serious that an outsider might have thought that people had died because Obi-Wan was tardy. What an outsider wouldn't know is that Windu looked like that all the time. He sighed, shaking his head. "I despair of your ever learning anything. Go on, now. You have work to do."

Obi-Wan didn't hesitate, happy to get away with just a mild scolding. He was almost at the kitchen door when he heard Master Windu call back to him, "And for the next week you're to do the first three sections of the Mist kata in addition to your normal morning routine. Maybe that will teach you the value of time."

Obi-Wan bowed his head, accepting the decree, but inwardly he cursed. The punishment would add an extra hour to his morning routine, which meant he wasn't going to be getting much sleep for the next week. Resigned, he walked into the kitchen, gritting his teeth when he saw all the dirty dishes that were still left from lunch. Those were supposed to have been done by the other person who was assigned to kitchen duty, who was suspiciously absent at the moment. Obi-Wan could only hope that Windu caught him out, too.

His luck holding steadily bad, Obi-Wan watched as Anakin came strolling through the kitchen doors, safe from any master's censure.

Anakin had seen what'd happened, because his grin was mocking. "In trouble again, Kenobi?"

"Fuck off. You're late, too."

"True, but I managed to avoid Master Windu."

There was no arguing with that, even if Obi-Wan suspected it was because Windu turned a blind eye to anything Anakin did, knowing that Palpatine would just let him out of whatever punishment was set. Ignoring that, Obi-Wan focused on his more immediate concerns. "Why are the dishes still left from lunch? You were supposed to do them today."

Anakin shrugged, obviously not concerned. "I had a lesson with Master Palpatine that ran longer than he thought it would. You'll have to do the dishes."

Obi-Wan knew good and well what type of lesson Palpatine had been teaching, but since Palpatine was the head of their Order, he knew better than to say anything about it. Still, just because Anakin truly had been fucking off all day didn't mean he could put his chores onto Obi-Wan. "I don't have time to do the dishes; I have to get dinner ready. We're having a guest tonight."

It was unusual that anyone ever came to the Keep. Most people were afraid of the Jedi. Afraid of their power and what they might do with it. If it weren't for the fact that the King often made use of their skills, the Jedi might very well have been in danger from a populace that viewed them with distrust and fear. Obi-Wan was curious about the stranger that had shown up at their doors seeking shelter for the night and hoped that he'd get a chance to see him. Anything that was a break from the monotony of the Order's usual routine was a blessing as far as Obi-Wan was concerned.

Anakin shook his head. "You'll have to do both. I have another lesson with Master Palpatine. He says he's very impressed with my aptitude."

Obi-Wan bit back the comment about exactly what part of Anakin Palpatine was impressed with, knowing it would only get him in trouble to say it. He didn't bother to argue further, knowing it was pointless and that Anakin would do exactly as he pleased.

The other boy sauntered away, sex oozing from the languid way he held himself, from the swing of his hips, and Obi-Wan looked after him, wondering if he'd made the right decision when he'd turned down Palpatine's offer of 'private lessons.' He found the man repulsive, but he was the head of the order, and he obviously treated his favorites well.

Watching his reflection in the large pot on the stove, he practiced walking with a sway in his steps, frowning at the obvious lack of sex in it. Maybe it was something that Anakin was just naturally talented at, like his ability to shirk his chores. Of course, it was more likely that Obi-Wan's walk lacked sex because Obi-Wan himself did.

He sighed to the mirror him, getting sighed at in return. Twenty years old and still a virgin. He was years past the age that most of his peers had lost their virginity, certainly older than Anakin's fifteen, but he'd yet to meet anyone that he was willing to get that close to. His only opportunities came from within the Order, after all, and frankly, Obi-Wan found them all boring.

Frowning at his distorted image, Obi-Wan rubbed the Force mark on his cheek, feeling its warm glow beneath his fingertips. It was the thing that marked him as a Jedi, an outsider to all the rest of the world.

It was also the thing that marked him as an outsider even among the Jedi.

If it weren't for the mark, he could leave the Keep, with its boring routines and boring inmates. He'd be free to see the world, with all of its warts and wonders to keep him occupied. Maybe then he could find someone he was willing to lose his virginity to. However, as long as that faint green glow of the Force mark rode high on his right cheek, he was trapped here, safe if bored.

Life at the Keep probably wouldn't be so bad if he were more like Anakin, happy with the easy life of a Jedi, happy with his little clique of friends and age-mates. But Obi-Wan had never been happy here, his desire to see and do making the rigid structure of the Order wear at him. And as for friends and age-mates, the Force mark that kept him trapped here also made him an oddity among people already considered odd.

For thousands of years the Order had been keeping records, and in that time there was only one case of a Force mark manifesting anywhere besides the rounded swell of the left shoulder - Obi-Wan. Yoda, who'd been head of the Order when Obi-Wan's parents had first brought him to the Keep, had turned him away at first, not believing that the mark on the baby's face could mean what it had seemed to. Even as an infant, though, Obi-Wan had been strong in the Force, and when he'd sent Yoda flying around the room - apparently to amuse himself - there'd been no room for doubt.

Yoda had still tried to send him away, sure that the strangeness of the mark was an ill omen. His parents hadn't cared about Yoda's protests, though, simply leaving their changeling son behind them, never looking back.

That first rejection had set the standard for how Obi-Wan was viewed by his fellow Jedi. His age-mates had been quick to catch on to his status, and quick to take advantage of it. All through Obi-Wan's childhood, any time the other children had wanted to escape punishment for something they had done, they had simply blamed it on Obi-Wan, even if he hadn't even been present at the time. It hadn't done much to endear them to him, nor, considering that it worked as often as not, did it teach Obi-Wan to have much respect for his elders. Only Master Windu seemed to be immune to the trick, and that was mainly because he was too busy trying to find fault with everyone to be too concerned with finding it just in Obi-Wan.

It was the thought of Windu, and what he punishment he was likely to assign if caught Obi-Wan prancing around in the kitchen in front of a sink full of dirty dishes, that finally broke Obi-Wan out of his daydreaming. Using the Force to give himself a couple of extra hands, he set about getting things ready for dinner.

The dining hall wasn't usually so crowded at dinner time, but that evening almost every Jedi in the order was there, nearly a hundred people milling around the room, trying to get a glimpse of the stranger in their midst. It made it hot and noisy in the room, but the stranger didn't seem to mind, or even to notice, far more interested in his meal than his dinner companions.

Palpatine had seated the visitor at his own table, along with Windu and Anakin. Palpatine was at his most unctuous, Windu at his most serious, and Anakin appeared to be simultaneously flirting with all three, eyeing the stranger as if he were getting ready to strip the man and fuck him right there at the table. The man himself simply nodded at whatever anyone was saying, holding his bowl out for refills again and again.

Tired of being ignored, Anakin and Palpatine went back to just flirting with each other, leaving the stranger to Windu's care. It suited both men, as neither one of them had anything to say.

From his table in the corner, Obi-Wan watched it all and laughed. The kingdom over, Jedi were feared and revered - depending on how much of a service they were providing at the moment - and yet from the dynamics at that table, anyone would think they were nothing more than children. Ill-behaved children at that. Obi-Wan would have liked to meet the stranger, but considering the company he was in, it wasn't as much of a loss to eat alone as it could have been.

After nearly an hour of doing little more than nodding and eating, the stranger broke the silence, his resonant voice easily carrying across to Obi-Wan's table. "This meal was excellent. The meat was just as I like it, and the sauce... well, it's been a while since I've had anything near as fine."

Not sure how to answer a compliment not directed at him, Master Windu just nodded, giving the stranger a taste of his own silence.

Not deterred in the least, the man asked, "Might I meet the cook to give him my compliments myself?"

Windu appeared to consider it, then shrugged, raising his hand and beckoning Obi-Wan to him. "Obi-Wan, our guest wishes to speak to you."

Thrilled at the opportunity, Obi-Wan didn't even mind Master Windu's preemptory manner. Standing in front of the stranger, amazed at the man's height even while sitting, Obi-Wan bowed his head in greeting. "You wished to speak to me?"

The stranger looked surprised, turning back to Windu and saying, "You have children cooking your meals?"

Obi-Wan bridled at that. Yes, he wasn't as tall as the stranger - or most of the other Jedi for that matter - but he wasn't that young looking, either. "I am twenty, sir, hardly a child."

Tilting his head, the man looked Obi-Wan over, his gaze lingering on the Force mark on his cheek. Obi-Wan waited for the questions that usually followed when someone first saw it, but the man surprised him, simply dropping his eyes and studying Obi-Wan's body instead.

Feeling his face flush at the frank appraisal, Obi-Wan shifted on his feet, unsure of what to do now. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but was hesitant to do so in front of Windu. While he was debating whether to risk it or not, the man smiled at him, looking him directly in the eyes, his interest clear in them. "No, not a child. My pardon, sir, for any insult I might have given. Perhaps I could convince you to take a walk with me, and allow me the chance to thank you... properly for the wonderful meal."

Obi-Wan had had admirers before this. Palpatine had hardly been the first to express an interest. Some had even thought to take advantage of Obi-Wan's lowly status in the Order by forcing the issue, but the mark on his face wasn't simply an aberration, and anyone who'd tried had learned soon enough to take Obi-Wan's "No" without question. For all that, he didn't have Anakin's experience, or knack really, for flirting, and he was hard pressed to think of what to answer. When his silence grew too long, and the stranger's face started to fall, Obi-Wan finally managed to get out a strangled, "I'd love to."

Master Windu simply waved them away, his face showing his displeasure at everyone's behavior, and the stranger guided Obi-Wan out of the dining hall into the long, dim corridors of the Keep.

"Would you like for me to give you a tour? Or maybe someone already has?" Obi-Wan cursed the awkwardness he was feeling, wishing he could just relax and be himself. There were so many things to talk about, and yet he was letting a little sexual tension, probably imagined on his part, take his chance away.

"Yes, Master Palpatine had someone show me around earlier. Someone named Loony, I believe."

Obi-Wan bit down on his laugh, trying to hold onto the serene facade that Jedi were supposed to show to outsiders. He mostly managed it, but his voice shook a little when he corrected, "Koon. His name is Koon."

The stranger smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes making Obi-Wan believe that he'd already known that. "Ah, yes, that was it. And you're Obi-Wan, right?"

Embarrassed at his lapse of manners, Obi-Wan stopped, bowing again. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, sir. I'm pleased to meet you."

The stranger returned the bow, holding his arm low in a courtly fashion. "I am Qui-Gon Jinn, not sir, and the pleasure is mine, I assure you."

Obi-Wan figured the man had been at the King's court at some point in time, both his manner and his accent setting him apart from the general populace. There was a tone to his body that spoke of strength held in check, which might mean military. Obi-Wan could easily believe the commanding air about Jinn came from being an officer, and the slight waver in the line of the nose certainly spoke of old adventures.

What one of the King's officers was doing at the Keep, Obi-Wan couldn't figure. If it had been official business, there would have been more notice, more fanfare, and Jinn wouldn't have come alone. He might be there on some secret mission, but Obi-Wan figured that was just his imagination talking, such things being much more likely in the novels he'd sometimes managed to get hold of rather than anything like real life.

It was much more likely that Jinn was a retired soldier, wandering now that his service was past. The faint traces of gray in his hair, the deepening lines on the strong planes of his face, placed his age around twice Obi-Wan's own, at least. Not that it showed in the way he carried himself, and it certainly hadn't stopped Anakin from throwing himself at Jinn. Looking at the handsome face, the appealing body, and thinking about what Palpatine looked like, Obi-Wan had to admit that he sympathized with Anakin on that front.

Jinn was smiling at him, as if he realized what Obi-Wan was thinking, and it made the blush stain across Obi-Wan's cheeks again. He really had to get himself under control or curfew was going to come, and he would still be standing there making a fool of himself.

Nodding towards an outside door, Jinn said, "I saw a garden out there earlier that I'd love to explore. Would you care to join me on a walk?"

Grateful for the direction, Obi-Wan agreed, and they walked out into the cool night. Relaxing as they strolled around the well-tended paths of the garden, Obi-Wan finally felt comfortable enough to give voice to all the things that had been burning at this tongue. They walked for almost an hour, Jinn agreeably answering the barrage of seemingly endless questions, a slight quirk of his lips reassuring Obi-Wan that he didn't mind. The admiring look in his eyes certainly never dimmed.

The moon was full, lighting their path. It shone on Jinn's hair, making the strands of silver sparkle, and it seemed to make his dark eyes glow. Limned like that, he was beautiful, and Obi-Wan didn't even think to refuse when Jinn leaned in to kiss him.

Obi-Wan didn't have any real experience at kissing. Garen had been the first and last person he'd tried with, and he'd been sixteen at the time. Kissing Garen had been not unlike kissing his own hand; little sensation and too much spit. Kissing Qui-Gon was like nothing else he'd ever done, and he could feel the press of those lips all the way through his body.

Qui-Gon pulled back, looking down at him with a hungry look. He cupped Obi-Wan's cheek, running a thumb over the Force mark. Obi-Wan had touched that mark a thousand times, and all he'd ever felt was the warmth of it. Qui-Gon's touch seemed to make it burn, the feel of it running through Obi-Wan, leaving him breathless, hard and aching for something he wasn't sure how to get.

"So beautiful."

Obi-Wan had heard the words before, but he'd never believed them. One of Qui-Gon's hands was still on his face, the other sliding down to knead his ass, and the words blew soft and warm against Obi-Wan's ear. Pulling Qui-Gon in closer, his arms going around those broad shoulder, Obi-Wan was willing to believe anything Qui-Gon said. For tonight, anyway.

But Qui-Gon didn't offer him any false promises, didn't offer any presents beyond the moment, large hands moving to undo the ties of Obi-Wan's tunic, trailing smoothly over the skin that was exposed as the cloth fell away.

The lips that had been so talented at kissing were just as good when applied to a nipple, and Obi-Wan couldn't keep back the moan that escaped him. His fingers wound through Qui-Gon's hair, tightening a little too hard when he felt Qui-Gon's teeth bite lightly at the nipple, his tongue rubbing over the tip of it.

"So good," was all he could think to say, and, really, it was.

Qui-Gon continued to play with his chest using tongue and teeth, but his hands were busy too, and Obi-Wan's pants went the way of his tunic, falling from his hips to catch around the tops of his boots. He tried to lean down to take the boots off, but Qui-Gon held him back. "Leave them. I want to fuck you with the boots on."

The words sent hot and cold streaks through Obi-Wan. It was just his afternoon that he'd been thinking about losing his virginity, and here was someone offering to take it. He didn't know this man, and it wasn't likely he'd ever really get a chance to know him either, but Obi-Wan couldn't really be bothered to care. Qui-Gon was exciting, handsome, different, and there was something about him that felt strangely familiar.

Obi-Wan let Qui-Gon push him back again the high wall of the garden, the stones rough against his back. Qui-Gon pulled his hips forward a little, his hand moving to Obi-Wan's ass, one finger gently pressing in. It stung, the entry dry and painful, and Obi-Wan bit his lips against it, disappointed that he'd been right when he'd suspected that sex might not be as good as people said.

Qui-Gon pulled back a little, looking curiously at him. "Is this your first time, Obi-Wan?"

Embarrassed that it was so obvious, Obi-Wan just nodded, not meeting Qui-Gon's eyes.

He shook his head, amazed. "The men of your Order must be fools to let such a prize go unclaimed."

The compliment warmed him again where the pain had made him cold. "I didn't want any of them."

Qui-Gon laughed. "And turned them away when they tried for you anyway, I bet. So strong in the Force. It's delicious. I've never tasted anything so good, and it's been so long. But you don't mind, do you, if I just take a little bite?"

Obi-Wan was confused, not sure what Qui-Gon was talking about, and not sure how Qui-Gon could tell how strong in the Force he was, but he didn't have time to question it before Qui-Gon pressed a now spit-slick finger back into his ass.

It was a little easier to bear with the spit easing the way, but it was still a tight fit. Qui-Gon worked the finger in and out, taking his time, and Obi-Wan felt his body relax around it. When the second finger was added, he took it much more easily, the pain slowly giving way to something that wasn't quite pleasure, but had more of pleasure in it than pain.

The fingers were withdrawn, and Qui-Gon kissed him again. He kept the kiss going even as he pulled Obi-Wan's legs up, breaking off only when the Obi-Wan's pants momentarily got in the way. That problem sorted, Qui-Gon pushed him back into the wall, letting it support some of Obi-Wan's weight, the rest of it being born by the arms Qui-Gon had hooked under Obi-Wan's knees. Qui-Gon leaned down, trailing his tongue along the leather of the boots, making Obi-Wan's skin tingle as if the leather were his own flesh.

Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan's eyes, reaching between their bodies with one hand to place the head of his cock at the entrance to Obi-Wan's body. Eyes never wavering, he thrust his hips forward, pushing until the head was planted firmly inside. Obi-Wan had to close his eyes, holding back the sting of tears, all of the preparation nowhere near enough to make the penetration painless. He couldn't help but cry out as Qui-Gon kept going, pushing further past his body's resistance, but he held still for it, hoping that, like the fingers, this would eventually get better.

When he was all the way in, Qui-Gon paused, leaning in to lick at Obi-Wan's lips. "Does it hurt, my Obi-Wan?"

Seeing no point in lying about it, Obi-Wan bit out, "Yes. A lot."

"It will pass. This I promise you."

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open as another thrust opened him further. He could already feel the pain lessening a little as he adjusted to the presence in him, but there was no pleasure in any of it. He wondered if he could take Qui-Gon at his word.

"So young still. You have so much to learn, Obi-Wan. In this, at least, I can be your teacher. Just ride through the pain, and when the pleasure comes, the pain will make it seem all the more intense." At Obi-Wan's skeptical look, Qui-Gon just laughed. "You'll see. You'll see."

Slowly, slowly, Qui-Gon entered and withdrew, entered and withdrew, until the movement came smooth and easy, Obi-Wan's body fully open to him. The pain had receded, edges of it touching everything Obi-Wan was feeling, but the movement of the cock in him, rubbing against him internally even as Qui-Gon's rough-clothed outer tunic rubbed against his cock, was making him hard again, and he pushed back against Qui-Gon's thrusts, trying to take the pleasure deeper.

They were both moving faster and harder, until Qui-Gon was almost slamming into him, and Obi-Wan couldn't remember what his body used to feel like before his world had narrowed down to Qui-Gon holding him, pushing into him, pulling his hips out further until almost all of Obi-Wan's weight was bearing down on the cock at the center of him, making every thrust brush against something inside him that caused the moon flash bright behind his eyes, that made him tremble with need.

Qui-Gon was murmuring words that slurred together - goodsofuckinggood neverlikethisbefore - but Obi-Wan was beyond words, sensation building in him until he thought he would die from it.

Crushing him back against the wall, Qui-Gon's hips jerked out his release, his voice soft and deep as he cried out Obi-Wan's name.

Obi-Wan came then, orgasm whiting out everything but Qui-Gon's face, looming closer, leaning in and kissing away what little breath Obi-Wan had left. Qui-Gon's whispered cry of, "Forgive me for this," filled Obi-Wan's mouth as his body shook with release.

Thrumming in the aftermath of climax, Obi-Wan didn't notice the feeling at first, just a little burn that flickered along his veins. It grew hotter, like a fire spreading through him as Qui-Gon's mouth clung to his, more a claim than a kiss. It grew until he almost thought he could see the flames eating away at him. He tried to cry out, but the heat filling him burned away what little air Qui-Gon had left him, and the world grayed to ash as he struggled desperately to breathe.

Qui-Gon broke the kiss, crying out as if he were burning too, but Obi-Wan was too busy to heed him, sucking in deep lungfuls of air, almost choking on them in his desperation. The heat faded as his breathing returned to normal, leaving Obi-Wan cold and exhausted in its wake.

He felt Qui-Gon carry him over to one of the garden benches, the stone cold against his bare ass until strong hands pulled his pants back up over it. He felt the hands on his tunic, too, retying the strings, setting everything back to the way it was before. Obi-Wan shivered, both from the touch and from the cold that had settled in his bones, but then warm cloth settled over him, the roughness of the fabric telling Obi-Wan that it was Qui-Gon's outer tunic.

Qui-Gon knelt in front of the bench, one hand reaching out to trace along the Force mark on Obi-Wan's face. The sorrow in his eyes was so dark it obscured the blue. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I didn't mean to take so much. It's just been so long since I'd... just so long, and you tasted so good. So perfect."

Obi-Wan had no idea what he was talking about, and the cold was slowing his thoughts down, making him unsure of what to say. He wondered if sex was always like this, but didn't have the strength to ask.

The hand moved down his face, brushed over his lips, and Obi-Wan kissed it lightly, wanting to thank Qui-Gon for the pleasure they'd shared before everything had gone strange.

Qui-Gon snatched his hand back as if burned, squeezing his eyes shut as he violently shook his head. "Don't. I'm still too close, still too... I could so easily take even more. I wish that things could have been different, little Jedi. Try... try to remember that tomorrow."

Obi-Wan wanted to tell him it was all right, that Qui-Gon had kept his word, that it had felt good, but the man walked away, and Obi-Wan was too tired to do anything but watch him.

Even knowing the trouble he'd be in for staying out all night, Obi-Wan curled up on the hard bench, falling into dreams of pain and pleasure and Qui-Gon's face, whispers of his sorrow filling Obi-Wan's ears the night through.

For the second day in a row, Obi-Wan tried to sneak through the halls, wanting to avoid detection.

He'd slept later than normal, the morning light that filled the garden finally waking him even as he'd tried to cling to sleep. He'd seen the position of the sun and groaned, knowing that he'd didn't have time to do any of his morning routine, forget the extra that Windu had assigned him, before he was due in Master Piell's class. He'd just hoped that Master Windu didn't find out, or gods knew what type of punishment would be assigned next.

Obi-Wan's luck in sneaking unseen through the halls had gone no better this morning than it had yesterday, since he'd come upon Anakin almost immediately upon entering the Keep. He'd sighed to himself, ready for the usual taunting, but Anakin had just stared at him, seeming surprised. Obi-Wan had given him a moment to say something, anything, but there'd been only silence, and Obi-Wan had hurried away, hoping that Anakin would continue to hold his tongue.

When he'd finally rolled off the bench that morning, his whole body had ached, the pain in his ass the sharpest of it, but everything about him was clamoring for attention, and he'd felt so weak he'd been afraid that he wouldn't be able to stand. He'd managed it, but it had been a close run race. In his struggle to get on his feet, he'd caught a whiff of himself, and had known that he'd needed to clean up first, regardless of how late he would be, because it was either that or have everyone know what he'd done the night before. And though part of him had wanted to crow about it from the highest tower, the rest of him had thought discretion would probably be the more prudent course of action.

Obi-Wan was almost to his room, cursing the exhaustion that was slowing his steps, when he came across Garen. He sighed again, knowing he wouldn't get away from Garen as easily as he had from Anakin. They'd been friends at one point, or at least as close to friends as Obi-Wan ever got, but after he'd refused to go further than kissing with the other boy, Garen had become one of Obi-Wan's harshest critics.

Garen's face drew up in a snarl. "Aren't you late for class, Kenobi?"

As they both knew he was, Obi-Wan didn't feel any need to answer, trying to keep his face blank so as not to provide any more ammunition.

But Garen broke off from whatever he'd been going to say, staring at Obi-Wan in much the same way Anakin had. He threw up a hand between them as if he were afraid of Obi-Wan, then turned and ran down the hall.

For one strange moment, Obi-Wan wondered if maybe there was some mark, some sign on him, that said Not a virgin anymore! for everyone to see. But he couldn't imagine that the thought of him finally having sex would cause the two boys - even though they weren't very fond of Obi-Wan - to suddenly be afraid of him.

Obi-Wan didn't have time to wonder about it now, though. He needed to clean up, and he needed to get to class, and he just hoped that Master Piell was more generous about his tardiness than Master Windu had been. Hurrying along as best he could, he finally made it to his room without seeing anyone else.

He skimped on his ablutions, not really caring about anything but getting rid of the smell of sex. He dressed quickly, running a hand through his hair to straighten it, and splashing some more water on his face to wipe away the fatigue that was still pulling at him.

His thoughts were on what he'd say to Master Piell, and on what he'd do if Master Windu found out he'd skipped this mornings punishment. From time to time memories would intrude on his thoughts - Qui-Gon kissing him, Qui-Gon fucking him - but he pushed them away. It was going to be hard enough to go back to being celibate now that he knew how good sex could be without driving himself to distraction dwelling on it.

Of course, there was still always Palpatine, but Obi-Wan couldn't imagine getting that desperate.

Distracted by his thoughts, it took him a moment before the cool flesh under his fingers registered with his mind. For a moment, he could only touch the mark, not able to believe what he was feeling, but then the memory of the way Anakin and Garen had stared came back to him, and he knew he wasn't mistaken.

He ran to the mirror and stared at himself. He turned his head from side to side, but no matter the angle, the Force mark on his cheek, the one that had always glowed green and warm before, stayed dark and cold, looking like nothing more than a mole on his cheek.

Dark. Cold. No green. No glow.

He touched it again, drawn to it, but it was just flesh, slightly chilled from the water he'd splashed on it, from the shock he was feeling. The warmth of the Force, that had always been curse as well as blessing, was gone.

He felt his knees give out and wound up sitting on the floor. He could hear Qui-Gon's voice in his head, his apologies about taking too much.

It couldn't be. It couldn't be.

Keeping his had on the mark, he tried to Force lift Qui-Gon's tunic, lying in a heap on his bed, to him.

But there was nothing. The tunic stayed where it was, and the Force was like the air Obi-Wan was trying so hard to breathe in - far too thin at the moment, and beyond his grasp.

Obi-Wan read novels as often as he could get them, even though it was a habit that was frowned upon by many of the masters. In his bed, late at night, his candle flickering down towards the end of its wick, he'd read about myths and monsters, myriad beasts that were nothing more than tales. Like the Giaour, who fed upon the Force, stealing it away from Jedi and leaving nothing but darkness behind. But it had been a novel, a myth, and nothing more.

The mark on his face, gone dark, so dark, said it wasn't.

Obi-Wan hadn't even gotten around to wondering what he would do, his thoughts just jumbled around the pleasure of the night before and the pain of the moment, when there was a knock on the door. He knew without looking who it was, and he dreaded what was to come, but there was no point in trying to avoid it. Master Windu would know the truth with one glance.

Getting up on legs that were still shaking, weak from what he'd lost, from what he was going to lose, Obi-Wan thought to himself that at least he was finally going to get his wish. He was finally going to get to see the world outside the Keep.

Opening the door to Master Windu's solemn face, seeing the look of horror in his eyes, Obi-Wan knew that there would be no reprieve here. There was no place in the Jedi for someone who couldn't control the Force. For someone who didn't have access to it.

There was no place in the Jedi for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan had dreamed about losing his virginity.

He'd wound up losing the Force.

Obi-Wan had dreamed about seeing the world.

He laughed, realizing that that dream would end in his losing his life. The laugh turned to a cough, racking through him as his body shook with fever and chills. He curled around himself, pushing his back against the large tree behind him, trying to keep under the thickest branches, trying to keep the rain off his face. It was a futile effort, the rain coming down so hard and steady that he'd been soaked through before he'd even taken shelter under the tree.

In the week since he'd left - been thrown out of - the Order, he'd found that for all that he'd complained about never getting to go anywhere outside of the Keep, that he must have gotten out much more than he thought, since he was known everywhere he went.

The mark on his cheek, that had always set him apart, looked like nothing more than a birth mark now, almost elegant really, and he should have been able to pass for normal. But his face was known to the people living in the farms and villages for miles around the Keep, and they shunned him even as he was now. Obi-Wan knew how often rumors flowed between the Keep and the villages, and thought that might account for their knowledge of his face, and their fear of him, as well.

Whatever the reason, Obi-Wan had had nowhere to go but the forest. He'd been turned out of the Keep with nothing but the clothes on his back, and a little bread and water. Getting more water had certainly not been a problem, but the bread had gone all too quickly. With the villages and farms closed to him, he'd turned to the woods, hoping to be able to hunt for some food, or at least find some wild berries. His forest-craft had turned out to be sadly lacking, though, and it had been several days since he'd had anything to eat. It didn't bode well.

His stomach grumbled its agreement, but Obi-Wan just laughed again. The fever that burned through him was going to kill him long before the hunger would. He coughed, the pain in his throat making him want to cry, but he was past tears now.

Obi-Wan curled in tighter, letting himself fall towards sleep, no longer caring if he woke from it or not, just wanting a break from the misery he was in. Just for a while.

He was still awake, on the edge of sleep, when he heard noise coming from the forest, the faint sound of steps on the trail leading up to the rise he'd taken shelter on. Considering all the creatures he'd tried, and failed, to hunt, he thought it would be almost poetic if were to become their prey now. The steps came closer, the stride of the creature breaking from time to time as it slipped on the rain-slick leaves coating the trail.

Fever made time flow in and out, so that it seemed to Obi-Wan as if the steps leaped from the trail below to the path right before him, a dark shape cutting through the rain, coming inexorably closer. Obi-Wan thought about running, but it seemed too much effort, and too little reward, so he sat there, letting his fate approach.

His fate turned out to be Qui-Gon. The Giaour.

Obi-Wan looked up at him, smiling at the sorrowful look on his face. "Did you come to finish the job?"

Qui-Gon knelt down in front of him, the back of his hand coming to rest on Obi-Wan's forehead. He shook his head, not bothering to answer. He shrugged his shoulders, shaking off the pack he wore over them, reaching into it to pull out a medicine pouch. He drew out two leaves, setting the pouch aside, not even closing it against the rain, holding them to Obi-Wan's mouth. "Chew."

Having nothing to lose, and not really feeling like arguing, Obi-Wan did. "Will this make me taste better? No? But then you liked the way I tasted before, didn't you?"

He grimaced and his hands drew up into hard fists, but Qui-Gon just shook his head again. "I'm not here to hurt you further, Obi-Wan. I didn't realize... well, I hadn't thought I'd taken it all. I hadn't thought they'd kick you out. When I heard it about it in the village in Narrowglen, I came looking for you. I just hoped..."

Qui-Gon trailed off, his face looking as miserable as his voice had sounded.

Obi-Wan could have felt sorry for him, sorry for the misery that Qui-Gon had caused, but he was too busy going into convulsions, too busy dying to care.

Qui-Gon pulled him into a tight hold, calling his name. Obi-Wan's eyes were closed tight, but he could hear him even as everything else faded away.

The dark and gray of Obi-Wan's world exploded, though, the fire that he'd felt once before burning through him again. He cried out, wondering why Qui-Gon had bothered to try to help him if he was just going to feed again.

But the fire felt different this time, warmth instead of heat, giving instead of taking, and the pain and exhaustion that had hung over Obi-Wan since the last time he'd seen Qui-Gon faded a little in the glow.v It ended too soon, but it was enough, for the moment at least. Obi-Wan felt the fever recede a little, and even though he was still tired and cold, he knew that he was going to live. He laughed, even his throat feeling better, and the need to cough had diminished. "What did you do, Qui-Gon? Not that I'm not thankful, but I'd like to know this time."

The sorrow was still in Qui-Gon's face though, even with Obi-Wan's partial recovery. He looked tired, too, as if he'd drained himself helping Obi-Wan. Which maybe he had. "I guess you do have a right to know, especially now. And what I did... wasn't truly a mercy. I probably shouldn't have, and it's unlikely you'll be thankful when you know."

He didn't speak again for a while, moving to set up a camp. He threw up a tent that was proof against the rain, a large thing with a little vent at the front that allowed him to build a fire inside. It took him a while to find any wood that was dry enough to burn, but he managed to get a small fire going while Obi-Wan sat and watched. Then Qui-Gon stripped them both of their wet clothes, carrying Obi-Wan inside when he was done.

He toweled them off with a thin blanket, pulling dry clothes from another pouch in his pack, dressing Obi-Wan with an impersonal touch, simply providing help where it was needed. Obi-Wan was well aware that if the man had wished anything of him, he wouldn't have been able to fight him off. It was comforting to know that, though Qui-Gon was certainly a thief, at least he wasn't a rapist.

Or a murderer, apparently.

Obi-Wan lay there, feeling warm and dry for the first time in days, and wondered how much of what Qui-Gon had said that he could believe. That the man had come for him, that he had saved Obi-Wan's life, made it easier to take his words as truth, and, again, Obi-Wan really didn't have much to lose by accepting it.

So Qui-Gon hadn't meant for things to go as badly as they had. He'd been caught up in his... feeding, maybe, and had taken too much. Hadn't he said that to Obi-Wan that night? Obi-Wan's memories of what had happened after the sex were somewhat hazed by both the pain and the pleasure he'd felt, but he was pretty sure he remembered that.

Of course, Qui-Gon must have seen that the Force mark had gone dark, must have been aware to some degree that Obi-Wan's life would change because of it. Narrowglen wasn't far away, though, so maybe Qui-Gon had stayed close. Just in case.

Qui-Gon's voice broke through his thoughts. "I was once like you were. A Jedi."

Obi-Wan nodded. Giaour were Force users, or at least started as such. He knew that from the stories. "But someone changed that?"

Qui-Gon smiled bitterly. "Yes, someone did. When I was much younger, not much older than you, I lived in a place called Alderaan, a kingdom far, far from here. It was beautiful, peaceful, and the people there weren't afraid of Force users. There was no Keep for the Jedi there. We simply lived where we chose, helping the common people as well as the king."

"It sounds wonderful."

Sitting down beside Obi-Wan, pulling out his medicine bag and giving him some more leaves to chew, Qui-Gon smiled. "It was. But it didn't last. Alderaan fell to its enemies long before you were born." He paused, his throat working from some remembered pain. "It fell because of one man. He was... well, he was charismatic, charming. A charming monster. But we didn't know that at first, and he could talk, gods he could talk, and make you believe almost anything. He had most people, Jedi and non-Jedi alike, agreeing to anything he said, even though we knew next to nothing about him. The king was especially fond of him.

No one noticed at first when things started to go wrong. Alderaan had always had enemies, and even a peaceful kingdom has crime, so a Jedi or two being attacked wasn't enough to make anyone suspect anything. But when those Jedi turned out to be weakened, when their grasp on the Force started to diminish, we wondered if there was something else to it besides strange coincidence."

"No one suspected that it was a Giaour?"

Qui-Gon packed away the medicine again, moving to get Obi-Wan some water to wash the taste of the leaves away. "None of us had ever heard of the Giaour. There'd never been one in Alderaan. And he was careful at first, not draining anyone too badly. He spread his attentions around, too, seducing all types of people. He might also have been drugging them, because none of them were aware he was feeding on them. I certainly wasn't."

Obi-Wan had known that the Giaour must have fed on Qui-Gon at some point, but it still surprised him that the man could ever be fooled so easily. He seemed so worldly, so self-possessed, that Obi-Wan hadn't really thought about the fact that he must have been very young once.

"The Jedi had been weakened, and weren't even aware of it, or not aware enough. We were Alderaan's best line of defense, and we were useless when the attack came. I was especially useless, as I was in Dooku's bed, being fed upon, when the rest of the Jedi were falling. And I was happy to be there, taking the pain with the pleasure, reveling in both. He told me he loved me, that he'd never tasted anyone like me. I hadn't understood, but I hadn't stopped him, either, when he started to go too far."

Qui-Gon paused again, looking at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan knew he was thinking about what they'd shared, how it had ended. Obi-Wan didn't know what to say, feeling an impulse to offer comfort, but not sure if he should. "He took all of your Force connection?"

"Yes. He got too caught up in the feeding, not letting go until I was almost dead. I could hear him crying over me, telling me he was sorry, but the world was already fading away. Then it was back again, coming painfully into focus as he fed me back some of his own Force energy."

"As you did me."

Qui-Gon nodded, sighing. "As I did you. It is how... it is how a Giaour is made. Now you see why I said I did you no favors."

Obi-Wan had already begun to suspect what had happened. One of the books he'd read had mentioned something about it, and the story that Qui-Gon told had seemed to be leading to that point. Still, hearing that he was a Giaour now was somewhat odd. Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure what he felt about it.

Turning his thoughts over in his head, Obi-Wan realized he wasn't as upset as he probably should be. He was alive. He had a way to stay alive. And he had a way to stay alive that wouldn't necessarily have to be all that bad for the person he fed upon. Qui-Gon had managed to get along. He didn't have the air of someone who was being hunted, so he obviously wasn't leaving a trail of bodies behind him. Even the Giaour in his story, Dooku, had managed to feed without causing too much disturbance when he chose to.

He'd have to be careful, because he wouldn't want to do to anyone what had been done to him, but he'd survive.

And he'd finally get to see the world he'd always dreamed about.

He smiled at Qui-Gon, making the man frown. He looked at Obi-Wan, confusion plain on his face. "You do realize what that means, don't you? You're like me now. You'll have to feed on the Force energy of others."

Obi-Wan yawned, the ravages of the last week still with him, even with the care that Qui-Gon had given. He felt sleep tugging at him, but held it off to say, "Yes, I understand. It's okay. Not good, mind you, but not horrible, either. We'll manage just fine."

There was silence, and Obi-Wan drifted closer towards sleep, amazed at how much better he felt at just being warm and dry.

Then Qui-Gon's voice, soft and hesitant. "We?"

Annoyed at being kept awake, Obi-Wan snorted. "Of course, we. You like the way I taste, I like the way you feel. We were good together, so why shouldn't we stay that way?" He found himself hesitating, an unwelcome thought coming to him, pulling him away from the attractive lure of sleep. "Or... were you just hungry, and anyone would have done? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Qui-Gon's face was partially obscured by the dancing shadows from the small fire, but he knelt close to Obi-Wan, one hand reaching out slowly, giving Obi-Wan time to object to his touch before it came to rest on his cheek, rubbing over the mark there. Obi-Wan felt it tingle, and wondered if it was glowing again. That would be a problem if it were.

"No one else, Obi-Wan. No one else has ever made me feel like that. Dooku had said I tasted good, but until I met you I hadn't realized what he meant. If you wish to travel with me, I... would welcome it."

Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's hand in his, kissing it lightly. He hazily remembered doing that before, and that Qui-Gon had seemed to like it. The small hitch of breath that came from the back of Qui-Gon's throat certainly sounded like it was a good thing.

Obi-Wan thought of all the things he'd already learned from Qui-Gon, all the things there still were to know. He tugged on the hand, pulling Qui-Gon down to lie beside him, burrowing up against the man's warmth.

In the light of the dying fire, he saw something that the full moon shining on the garden that night hadn't shown him; peeking out from the edge of Qui-Gon's tunic, right at the base of his throat, was a mark. It was dark, and looked just like a mole, but it called to Obi-Wan. He reached out slowly, giving Qui-Gon a chance to object, then ran one finger over it, feeling the power beneath it. A Force mark. He shivered.

He'd never met anyone whose mark wasn't on their left shoulder. He'd spent years thinking he was alone in that aberration.

Qui-Gon was looking at him intently, his dark eyes glittering. He reached up to touch Obi-Wan's mark again, and they could both feel the resonance between them.

They let go, too tired to explore any further tonight, but Qui-Gon rested one broad hand on Obi-Wan's back, drawing him in closer, their breathing slowing down towards sleep.

Obi-Wan curled into Qui-Gon, feeling connected to someone for the first time in his life. "We travel together."

And they did.