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"How is the ronto?" Obi-Wan asked. He was warm and drowsy, lying under the quilts of the big bed while his lover hurriedly undressed. The healer had just returned from checking on a patient in the stables.

"Worse," Qui-Gon replied as he slid into bed and pulled Obi-Wan close.

"Will she live?"

"Yes, but not without intervention. Her rhallial gland seems to be failing. I will probably need to install a subdermal implant tomorrow, to replace its function. With that sort of genetic defect, I'll have to take her out of the breeding stock, but she will make a good training animal for the Jedi padawans."

"At least Kee is back to help you."

"It's good to have her back," Qui-Gon agreed. "She was certainly surprised to see you."

Obi-Wan grinned, remembering her gleeful hug. "I think she was pleased that we had a special dinner for her."

Qui-Gon picked up his lover's braid, and fingered it as he spoke. "I just hope we didn't bore you with all our medical talk. It couldn't have been very interesting for you."

"I didn't mind. I've learned a thing or two about animal healing from being around you, so I understood some of it. Besides, it was nice just to watch the two of you together. You are well-matched."

Qui-Gon smiled, and Obi-Wan could sense his fondness for the girl. "She is a good apprentice."

Obi-Wan decided to take advantage of an opening he'd been looking for, and ventured into a sensitive topic. "It was relaxing to spend time with someone who knows we are bonded."

"Yes." Qui-Gon fingers were straying. His bonded seemed more interested in touching than in talking, but Obi-Wan wasn't going to back down now.

"Nisha, why haven't you told anyone of our relationship?"

Unease crept through the bond. "Who would I tell?"

"The people here at the ranch - Von, Sirrah Beryt. Your friends."

"Our bond is not their concern."

"Are you ashamed of being bonded to me?"

"Tiercel, of course not! What would make you think such a thing?"

"Last night at the Beryts', you seemed embarrassed when I tried to take your hand. You acted odd all evening, as though you were afraid of acknowledging that I am more than a visiting Jedi."

Qui-Gon sighed. "Obi-Wan, please understand, I have been alone here for a very long time. It's been many years since I have had a lover. I am private by nature. I'm not comfortable displaying my personal life to my employer."

There had to be more to this than just privacy, Obi-Wan thought. Qui-Gon was very much his own man, and usually didn't care what others thought of him. He pushed harder. "I've told all my close friends, and my master, and Master Yoda. Our bond is an important part of my life. I *want* other people to know. Why don't you?"

Qui-Gon ran his fingers along Obi-Wan's collarbone, thinking. The younger man waited patiently for him to find his words. He was surprised by the question that came next.

"Why are you not tattooed, like Von and your master?"

"What does that have to do with our bond?"

"Please, love, just answer me."

Obi-Wan did not want to have this conversation twice in one day. His answer was rather curt. "I am Li-tzu. My commitment as a Keeper is between my master and me. She offered to give me the Marks, but I have never felt the need to wear my skills on my face."

"Are you ashamed of being a Keeper?"

"Of course not!"

"You consider it too personal to share with others you don't know well?"

Obi-Wan saw where he was leading. "It's not the same thing. Our bond is not in the same league with my commitment to the Niotan culture."

"Tiercel, what is highly personal to me is different than what is private for you. We are different people. I assure you, I feel no shame in what we have between us. More people will learn of our relationship as time passes, and that is fine with me. I just don't choose to tell people without reason, just as you have chosen not to take the Marks."

"I still don't think it's the same thing." He frowned at Qui-Gon. There was an element of logic in Qui-Gon's argument, he admitted to himself, but there was something more. Qui-Gon was not disclosing everything.

He pushed against his lover's mind. The healer allowed it, thinning the mental walls between them, opening to the intrusion.

Obi-Wan settled softly into his bonded's mind, simply sharing the most immediate thoughts and feelings. He found the strong need for privacy. Upon examination of the emotion, he discovered it was indeed similar to what he felt regarding the Marks. But there was something else. Qui-Gon squirmed a bit as he probed deeper, but did not stop him.

The young man found what he sought, hidden away in a corner of his bonded's mind. Doubt. Or more precisely, the memory of doubt.

"You didn't think I'd come back!"

Qui-Gon rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Obi- Wan did feel shame coming from him now.

"Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi. A tiny part of me just couldn't believe that after you went back to your master and your Jedi world, you would still want to return to me. Why would you care about some animal healer on a little planet on the outskirts of nowhere, when you could be flying across the galaxy?"

Obi-Wan sat up, fixing his bonded with a fiery glare. "Why? Because I love you! Because we are bonded. I *told* you I would come back. I promised you."

Qui-Gon took his hand. "And I clung to that promise. I believed you, or I wanted to, desperately. But I got your comms, telling me all about your adventures, and deep down inside, I just couldn't imagine that you would want to come back. I worried that the bond was not strong enough. It was still so new when you had to leave."

"So you didn't tell anyone. You were afraid of the embarrassment you would suffer if you told people you had bonded to a Jedi padawan, only to have me never return."

"Yes. I'm sorry, Tiercel. Your love - our bond - seemed too good to be true."

"And what do you believe now?"

"That I was foolish."

Obi-Wan placed their clasped hands against his chest. "Qui- Gon Jinn, don't ever doubt that I will come back to you. Our love pulls me here, with undeniable strength. The Force draws me to you. I feel it deep within me. My future is tied to yours."

"I know that now. I feel the truth of it. Please forgive me?"

Obi-Wan slid back under the quilts. "I'll consider it," he replied, and then covered Qui-Gon's mouth with his own. A searing kiss revealed his true answer. He opened his mind, inviting his love inside, wanting no separation between them. He dug deep into Qui-Gon's thoughts, searching for any remaining hesitation, and was relieved to find none.

*Nisha, nameho'tatse. You are the most important thing in my life.*

The intensity of their kisses diminished, dwindling to a simple nuzzling of skin. A soft caress of the neck was met by a brush of lips over an ear. Arms and legs entwined as they petted and fondled each other with gentle swipes of their fingers. The early hour of their rising and the fullness of the day overwhelmed them, and they drifted to sleep in a lovers' embrace.

The Third Day

Obi-Wan gasped for breath, the cold air stabbing his lungs like a blade. His eyes streamed from the wind rushing past his face as he rode Storm, full tilt, along a narrow ridge.

He'd awoken well after sunrise. His body was still suffering from a sleep deficit after the stress of the previous week, but this morning he'd felt substantially better. It was amazing what one good night's sleep could do for a person. He'd reached his hand across the bed, but was not surprised to discover he was alone. Qui-Gon had left briefly in the middle of the night to assess the ronto's condition. A quick check through the bond had confirmed that he was in the sterile room, preparing for the procedure on the animal.

Presented with at least a morning to himself, Obi-Wan had decided on a brisk ride to clear his mind, and to address the decisions he had to make. His mission training prevented him from leaving without any sort of provisions, so he'd thrown some food and water into a pack, and headed down the stairs.

On his way to Storm's stall, he'd made a detour to Qui- Gon's office to leave a note about his whereabouts and to send a quick comm to Master Li. He expressed his relief that she was recovering, and offered his get-well wishes. He ended the comm by saying he was close to making a decision, knowing that she would understand his meaning.

Today, he'd told himself as he and Storm headed up the trail. There was no excuse for further delay. He would decide today if he was going to give up life as a Jedi to stay on Grathos, or if he would return and make his commitment to the Order.

The sun shone through the trees, turning the dripping icicles into prisms broadcasting rainbow hues. The snow began to melt as the temperature rose above freezing at the lower elevations, but there were still drifts to be found as he and Storm climbed higher up the switchbacked path.

When they'd reached a long ridge dividing two canyons, he'd felt a strong urge from Storm to see how fast they could make their way across it. Obi-Wan agreed, and off they went at full speed.

He concentrated on the horse's muscles bunching and flexing under his legs, on the sound of the wind rushing past his ears, at the tickle of Storm's mane flipping across his face. For a few minutes, he wanted not to think - not to worry, or judge, or examine. Just be.

"Faster!" he urged. Storm complied, stretching forward to streamline her body.

They both were struggling for breath by the time they reached the far side, great clouds of moisture puffing from their mouths. Obi-Wan laughed and hugged the animal around the neck, getting a toss of the head and a feeling of camaraderie in return.

How was he to make this decision, he thought as Storm resumed a more leisurely pace. It was probably best to start with what he *did* know, and then go on to the more thorny areas.

First, he loved Qui-Gon. That truth was at the fundamental core of his being. Their reunion had confirmed something he had already suspected: their love was grounded in the Force. If the Force could influence the future, as some believed, there had been a reason for delaying his mandatory class on Grathos. He came only when he was mature enough to handle the relationship that had developed with the master animal healer.

Obi-Wan remembered Yoda's comment when he'd told the Jedi master about the bond. "Wise the Force is." Whether it was the Fates or the Force, he believed that he was meant to be bonded to Qui-Gon Jinn.

He also knew that he loved being on Grathos and at the Beryt Ranch. It was true that he had idealized the place in his mind's eye, clinging to the idyllic vision of his previous visit. Even now that his eyes had been opened, though, he felt a unique attraction to this place. He felt so alive here, so close to the Force. He loved working with the hawks, and was tremendously intrigued by the possibility of being Von-tzu. His hand strayed unconsciously toward the bell tucked into a pouch of his belt. It would be a joy to learn how to make such a thing.

He could take his own trainees here on the planet. He'd always vaguely planned on having a padawan to be Obi-tzu, but he could find someone here on Grathos. Maybe he could hold weaponry classes for the Jedi padawans while they were on-planet for their training in animal husbandry. There was still the possibility that one day he could become Master of the Mews. It would be a good life, living with Qui-Gon, working with the birds, learning new skills, and teaching a new group of apprentices every year.

The peaceful nature of the planet might not last much longer, though, if the Beryts and their neighbors were correct. He wondered if Master Yoda had spoken to other members of the Council about the local situation. Obi-Wan thought he ought to check through the local media holocasts and commspreads, to see if there was a pattern he might recognize, or names he could take back to search the Temple's database. He could even go into the city to look through the public records of the judicial hearings.

Obi-Wan drew back on the reins with a start. What was he doing? Reality rushed at him. In barely a moment's time, he'd gone from considering his relationship with Qui-Gon to planning research on the planet's criminal activities.

He was thinking like a Jedi.

He remembered Master Li's words in the moment when he'd realized she intended to return to Althene without him. "Do or do not, Padawan Kenobi."

He'd gone with her. Of course he had, it was his duty.

Obi-Wan tried to swallow, but found his mouth had gone dry. He couldn't do it. No matter how strong the bond was, or how he relished the pastoral nature of Grathos, he couldn't stop thinking like a Jedi. The dinner with the Beryts, the comm he'd been compelled to send immediately to Master Yoda - it all pointed to the same truth. Being a Jedi was a fundamental piece of what made up Obi-Wan Kenobi, just as important as the piece that loved Qui-Gon.

"Why do you think you cannot be a knight and be bonded to Qui-Gon?" Li had asked. Why indeed?

Because of the damned Force-deprivation he experienced when he was separated from his bonded, that was why. Well, if the Force was truly driving the relationship between him and Qui-Gon, and if he was meant to be Jedi, then there must be a way to overcome the problem. They just had to find the answer. They would find it, he told himself firmly.

So, was that it? Was the decision made? Obi-Wan searched his mind, and found he did not yet feel a sense of surety about his conclusion. Something still dragged at his heart. He dug deeper, analyzing the source of his doubt.

It was Qui-Gon. Somehow, Obi-Wan felt that his bonded didn't like the fact that he was a Jedi. There was a slight element of ... disdain for what he did. Even though Qui-Gon had been raised at a Temple, it was always with the understanding that he would leave to pursue his vocation in animal healing. He was never indoctrinated into the ways of the Order. He certainly didn't understand the interest in weaponry. Obi-Wan once again wished he could find the right words to explain why he was so fascinated by this field of study.

He smiled as an idea popped into his head. If you can't explain it to him, show him! A plan gelled in his mind, and he resolved to convince the man of few words through action instead of talk. Maybe if he could convince him of this one thing, he would begin to understand why Obi-Wan was a Jedi. Maybe he would see why he was willing to commit himself to a life of serving the Order.

A tingle ran down his spine at that thought. A lifetime commitment to serving the Order. Was he ready for that? He reached into the Force, and felt it filling him, swelling and pulsing within his body and his mind.

"Yes!" he yelled to Storm, and dug his heels into her flanks. He leaned forward as she raced off. The two merged into one flowing figure, galloping across an open plateau under the clear skies of Grathos.

Qui-Gon knelt beside the slumbering ronto, satisfied that her condition was already improving. He felt a sudden surge of happiness through his bond to Obi-Wan, and smiled, suspecting that his Tiercel had come to a resolution of sorts. He patted the rump of his patient before he stood.

"Thank you, good beast. You may not realize it, but you've helped me as much as I've helped you today." He left the stall feeling inordinately pleased with himself.

"It's a stick." Qui-Gon looked skeptically at the long pole in his hand.

"I guess you could say that," Obi-Wan replied, examining the matching pole in his own hand. "Or you could call it a prydyl, or bhon-jahng, or bowstaff. Many cultures use a weapon like this, because it's easy to make. It can be improvised from any number of materials."

Obi-Wan began swinging the staff in complicated patterns as he warmed up. Qui-Gon hefted his weapon, feeling for the balance of it in his loose grip. It did have a nice weight to it.

He watched his lover move over the red mats of the training room, the muscles of his bare chest and arms flexing as he expertly wove the staff through the air. Force, he was handsome, Qui-Gon thought. He could sit and watch him do this for hours. Well, maybe not hours. Certain parts of his anatomy would probably react in such a way that he wouldn't be able to just watch that body. In fact, he could feel stirrings already.

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan snapped his fingers in front of his face. The healer shook the lust from his brain, and focused on the lesson he'd agreed to.

"The key is to keep your balance while in motion, as is the case with most hand weapons. Start with your feet like this." He demonstrated the proper stance, which Qui-Gon copied.

"Stay light on your feet. You should be able to move in any direction, at any time." A few feints with the staff illustrated his point. "Let's start with standard assaults and blocks."

Qui-Gon nodded, and paid close attention to the sequence of strikes and thrusts, each with an assigned counter-move. They repeated the drill several times, the staffs clacking in a slow, unsteady beat. The movements felt awkward, and Qui-Gon's stiffness revealed his discomfort. He stepped back.

"This isn't working, Tiercel."

Obi-Wan got a determined look on his face, and Qui-Gon suspected an extra half-hour had just been added to the workout.

"You're trying to do it blind, Nisha. Open yourself to the Force as you move. Don't think about the blocks, just do them."

They started again, Obi-Wan praising the best moves, remaining silent about mistakes. Although Qui-Gon did reach for the Force, it seemed foreign in this situation, and he let it go. Finally, through repetition and sheer determination, Qui-Gon felt the moves becoming more instinctive than rote.

Obi-Wan noticed the difference. "That's right," he encouraged. "Let the movements flow from your body. Let's try something a big more creative. Try reacting to my attack, using whichever standard block comes naturally. Ideally, our moves will compliment each other."

They started slowly again, Obi-Wan allowing plenty of time for Qui-Gon to react to each of his moves. Soon a rhythm developed between them, and the tapping of the staffs began to sound in a regular cadence. Qui-Gon felt comfortable enough to pick up the pace.

Obi-Wan nodded and stepped away after a time. "Now you're getting it, but you're still not using the Force. You're memorizing everything."

Qui-Gon rubbed his hand over his forehead. "I know, but it just doesn't feel right to me. Why don't you show me?"

"Sit down," Obi-Wan acceded.

Qui-Gon stepped back a couple of paces and sat cross-legged on the mat. He opened his mind, and felt Obi-Wan's presence within him expand.

*Show me, Obi-Wan Kenobi.*

Qui-Gon suppressed his own mind to concentrate on the thoughts of his bonded. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, except it wasn't oxygen brought into his lungs; it was a breath of the Force that filled his being. He began, and Qui-Gon was transfixed from the first movement.

It was effortless. It was a lethal dance with an imaginary foe. The Force flew through his lover's body. Obi-Wan swung the staff as though it were an extension of himself, circumscribing his legs and shoulders, interrupted by jabs and thrusts of jarring force. The level of intensity ratcheted to the point of hypersensitivity. Qui-Gon was sure that if he moved forward in this moment to attack, Obi-Wan would be hard-pressed to keep from injuring him.

Through all of it was the Force. It didn't ground Obi-Wan so much as it buoyed him, allowing this seamless unity of man and weapon. Qui-Gon couldn't imagine the number of hours it took to acquire this level of proficiency. Master Li must be an amazing teacher, he thought.

Obi-Wan was winding down now, coming to the conclusion of a set form of movements. He returned to the ready position in his final motion, and brought his focus to his bonded.

"Do you see?" he asked between gasping breaths.

Yes, he saw. He saw before him a Jedi with gifts that until now he had never fully understood. He saw a man whose talents should not be wasted on an out-of-the-way planet on the edge of the galaxy.

He stood and closed the distance between them, cupping the back of his bonded's head with his hand. "I see, Tiercel." He pulled him close for a long, deep kiss, bittersweet in light of what he knew must come.

"Will you teach me?" He brushed his finger across his lover's cheek.

"Of course."

They returned to the standard blocks, keeping the bond more open so that Qui-Gon could feed from the Force utilization with which Obi-Wan was so experienced. He could feel the difference immediately, and began to flow through the motions with a newfound ease. They picked the pace up quickly, and Qui-Gon actually began to enjoy himself. This could be fun, he thought.

Obi-Wan finally stepped back, nodding his approval. "That's it. You've got it now. Let's add a few new moves. Try this as you go to ready stance." Obi-Wan added a twirl as he brought his staff to attack position.

It was swift enough that Qui-Gon couldn't copy it. He cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't the flourishes a bit much this early in the game?"

"Can you repeat what I did?" Obi-Wan chided.

"No," Qui-Gon grumbled. He'd been feeling good about being able to keep up, and didn't like that he was back to being stumped.

"Flourishes are important. They're a distraction to your opponent. They're quick, they look complicated, and they can break your attacker's concentration just long enough for you to score a blow. Some people even put colored flags or streamers on the end of the staff to enhance the distraction."

Obi-Wan repeated the move slowly, so that Qui-Gon could follow it. After several attempts, he was able to make the move with ease, adding his own bit of style.

They continued in this way, Obi-Wan pushing Qui-Gon just hard enough to keep him challenged. The healer learned offensive moves in addition to the defensive, and discovered he enjoyed being on the attack. He also realized that his love was quite a good teacher, building his confidence and keeping the frustration to a minimum.

After an hour or more, Obi-Wan suggested a round of free- sparring to test what Qui-Gon had learned. Qui-Gon felt he was ready, and agreed.

He stepped back and took a moment to center himself, and then came to ready stance. They began, Obi-Wan allowing him to take the offensive. The Force came to him easily now as he moved. He was able to anticipate a few of Obi- Wan's movements, and had some success at blocking as a strike began, instead of waiting to react. He tried to learn his lover's fighting style, watching for patterns he might predict, but Obi-Wan was too good for that, his tactics ever-changing. Their staffs clacked in a steady, hard rhythm as the two men moved over the mats, giving and taking, learning and teaching. At one point, Qui-Gon got in a particularly cunning move, and he had to keep from laughing out loud. It was marvelous.

But Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan was holding back, not wanting to overpower him. He could tell his bonded was marginally frustrated at not being able to make full use of his skill. When he had had about all he could take, he gave Obi-Wan permission to take over.

"Let go, Tiercel. Show me what you can do."

Obi-Wan met his eyes for a split second to be sure he'd understood. Reassured, he advanced, making a serious attack now. Qui-Gon could only defend, barely keeping the blows from landing on his body. He took step after step backwards, looking for an opening to land just one good move, but it wasn't there. He felt the padding of the wall against his back just as Obi-Wan swung the staff horizontally across his chest, pressing against him.

"I concede," Qui-Gon laughed.

Obi-Wan did not drop the staff, but looked into his eyes.

"Do you understand now Qui-Gon? Do you understand why I enjoy doing this?"

"Yes, Tiercel, or at least I'm beginning to. It's a great challenge, both mental and physical. I also understand that you are very, very good at it. Even I can tell that."

Obi-Wan lowered the staff, but stood silent before him, not dropping his eyes.

"I have to go back, Nisha," he said.

"I know. You are Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and nodded. When he again looked up, Qui-Gon saw determination tinged with sadness.

"But I will come back to you. No matter what happens, I will *always* come back to you."

"I know that, too." He believed it now. He knew that their love, their bond, was strong enough.

Obi-Wan looked away. "We just need to find a way to eliminate the diminished Force capacity. What if we...."

Qui-Gon interrupted him, grinning. "I think that I have the answer, Tiercel."

"What?" Hope surged through his lover.

"What did your master tell you when she sent you here?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "She said I needed a dose of Qui-Gon."

The healer nodded. "That is exactly what we are going to give you."

Qui-Gon pulled his bonded forward, catching the look of curiosity on Obi-Wan's face just before he kissed him. He heard the staff thud against the padded floor as Obi-Wan placed his hands on either side of his body, capturing him against the wall.

The kisses deepened.

Von walked down the hallway of the training wing, peeking into each workout room as he made his way along the corridor. He'd finished his work for the day, and hoped to persuade Obi-Wan to take in some target practice with him at the archery range. It wasn't often he got the opportunity to shoot with another Keeper.

He opened the next door just far enough to glance in, and froze at the sight he found. Qui-Gon was leaning against the wall, Obi-Wan standing in front of him with his hands on either side of his shoulders. They were kissing. Open- mouthed, passionate kisses. It went on and on, hypnotic in its intensity.

Von stared as Obi-Wan finally broke away, his mouth traveling down Qui-Gon's neck. The healer leaned his head back against the wall, his chest heaving as the younger man's mouth moved even lower, licking a nipple, and then sucking hard. Qui-Gon hissed at the touch. The obvious familiarity between the two men made the scene especially provocative.

Obi-Wan looked incredible, flushed from both his passion and the workout they must have just completed. Von looked appreciatively at the muscles he had known were hiding under the heavy clothes the young man wore. He was so damned attractive. If he would only take the Marks, he would be beautiful.

A soft groan from Qui-Gon snapped Von's attention back to the scene before him. Obi-Wan was on one knee now, kissing and nuzzling at Qui-Gon's belly. His hands came up to the drawstring of the healer's leggings, and Von suddenly realized what was going to happen.

He jerked his head back and closed the door softly. He tried in vain to tamp down his own arousal, turned, and walked back up the hallway.

Obi-Wan perched on the edge of his chair and leaned his forearms on the table, watching as Qui-Gon rolled a spoonful of spicy shredded meat into a piece of flatbread and brought it to his mouth. He closed his eyes, obviously relishing the anticipation of the first bite. Loca sat on the floor beside him, intrigued by the wonderful smells wafting down from the table. Obi-Wan was too excited to eat.

"So you are suggesting I have a subdermal implant containing your body tissue?"

"Mm-hm." Qui-Gon chewed and swallowed, and let out a small sigh. "Wonderful." He dug back into his food.

"Nisha!"

"Yes, yes. It would be just like the implant I put into the ronto today, only instead of rhallial tissue, we put cells from my body in the implant."

"And how will this eliminate the diminished Force capacity?"

"Eat, before your food gets cold," the healer ordered. "I think that the Force-deprivation is a result of the separation of our midichlorians. The tests showed your midichlorian count didn't drop, but a good percentage of them became dormant. It's like some sort of dependency, or symbiosis between us. With a continual source of my midichlorians in your system, you should be able to avoid the problem."

"Why won't your cells just die after a while?"

"The nanobots in the implant maintain the tissue culture. The device I put in the ronto today should function for several years. There's no reason to think that an implant of my tissue would be any different. That's certainly longer than you should need it, if you have your trials as soon as you anticipate them."

Obi-Wan took a bite of his dinner and chewed without tasting it. This just might work, he thought. If only the midichlorians could be fooled into thinking the two of them were together.

"I don't think we need to trick the midichlorians," Qui-Gon responded to his thought. "It seems that they need contact between them, so we will provide a mechanism for that contact."

It sounded promising. "How big is it?"

"The device? It's a flat disc, no wider than your thumb. It would be inserted just under the skin in an out-of-the way place. The front of your shoulder, or under your arm - wherever you want it."

"What about you? What about the effects the separation had on your ability to manipulate the Force?" Obi-Wan bit into the rolled flatbread. The food was good, he finally noticed.

Qui-Gon shrugged. "My Force deprivation was never as severe as yours. I will take a tissue sample from you during the procedure, and prepare an implant. If problems develop after you leave, I will get someone to insert it."

The healer paused to sip his hot tea, then continued.

"You know, Tiercel, we are assuming that the problem will recur when we separate. It may not. The bond is much stronger now. Perhaps it hadn't fully formed when you left, or perhaps it needed to stabilize somehow. It's possible that you will feel no diminished Force capacity when you leave."

Obi-Wan chewed while he thought. The idea had occurred to him. He might leave Grathos and have nothing happen. But it would be taking such a chance. He thought of his master, clutching her chest, the smell of charred flesh in the air. It was his fault she had been hit by the blaster fire. Hit by a blast he couldn't deflect because the Force wouldn't answer his call. He could not allow that to happen again. He wouldn't.

"I want the implant."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Fine. I have a shipment of horses to send off-planet first thing after daybreak, and then I will prepare the device. I should be ready to do the procedure by midday."

One of the underlying assumptions of the conversation finally sunk in. "You are going to do the procedure?"

"Yes. It's quite simple, really."

"Qui-Gon, I'm not a ronto!"

The healer's eyebrows drew together and his shoulders stiffened. "Do you think I would suggest this if I wasn't absolutely sure? You mean more to me than ... anything. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do. But you're an animal healer."

"We can go searching for a human healer, but it could cause a long delay. This whole idea is unorthodox, to say the least. Finding someone willing to do it might take days, or even weeks."

Qui-Gon leaned forward. Obi-Wan felt the intense blue eyes driving into his. "This afternoon you demonstrated your exceptional skills to me. Now, you need to allow me to use my skills to help you."

"What's involved in the procedure?" Skepticism tinged Obi- Wan's voice.

"I would sterilize the area of the implant, and anaesthetize the skin with a hypospray. I would make a small, shallow incision and slide in the disc. I would then collect a tissue sample to culture in case I need an implant. I would check to ensure the device was anchored firmly in the surrounding tissue, close up the incision, and activate the implant. The whole process would take only a few minutes. You would be awake through it all."

That did indeed sound easy enough. Surely nothing could go wrong in such a simple procedure. Obi-Wan sighed. He couldn't believe he was going to agree to this.

"All right. I'll go down to the mews in the morning since I haven't spent much time there, and then meet you back here at midday."

"Good. I really do think this will work, Tiercel." Qui- Gon started to take another bite of his dinner, only to discover he'd cleaned his plate. He looked back across the table at his love. "Is there any more?" he asked hopefully.

The Fourth Day

The warm cup was soothing to Obi-Wan's cold fingers. It was almost as wonderful as the aroma drifting up from the hot drink. He took a careful sip.

"It's been so long since I've had miko tea. This is a real treat," he said to Von, who blew across the surface of his own steaming mug.

"I'm surprised your master does not drink it. Few Niotans go without."

"We have it occasionally. We just haven't been to your homeworld in a couple of years. The supply ran out some time ago."

Obi-Wan sipped again, and glanced around Von's crowded quarters. It was three small rooms, made even smaller by the tremendous amount of stuff jammed into them. Typically Niotan, Von had surrounded himself by the elements of those things he Kept. All the materials and tools for both bell and hood making were arranged on workbenches in what was intended to be a common room. Finding a place to sit down had turned into a quest; Obi-Wan had finally uncovered a stool hidden by a tall stack of leather squares. For himself, the mews master had produced a rickety wooden chair that looked as though it would break apart under the strain of a feather. By some miracle, it held together when the man dropped down onto it.

Von noticed the Jedi's survey of the room. "I'm sorry everything is so cluttered in here, but I didn't have space anywhere else for my tools. Qui-Gon said Sirrah Beryt would be willing to build a separate workshop, but," he shrugged his shoulders, "I like to be close to my things anyway."

Just like a Niotan, Obi-Wan thought. He remembered with fondness Master Li's family home. It was filled with screens, pulp vats, dyes and all the other miscellany of papermaking. There were beds in the house somewhere, but such mundane needs as sleep were a low priority.

"The boys were happy to see you," Von commented. "You must have made quite an impression on them when you were here last. I know from experience, they do not impress easily."

Obi-Wan had spent several hours that morning with Bartram and D'nar, going through the daily winter routine at the mews. There was not so much to do in the cold months, when most of the birds were molting and did not need to be flown. He'd helped with the weighing and feeding, all the while listening to the apprentices' renditions of various escapades. He found himself wishing time and again that he'd been there to share them. Bartram told him all about the plans for breeding the gyr when spring arrived. The boy could barely contain his impatience, knowing that he was to raise one of the nestlings as his own.

Von had spotted Obi-Wan as they were finishing up, and come out of the workroom to give him a lesson on the eagles, discussing their diet and exercise requirements, and the unique aspects of hunting with the large birds. He had gone into great detail on the history of eagle-hunting in various cultures, since he knew Obi-Wan was interested in such matters. It was fascinating. Obi-Wan began to think that he would like to be a Keeper of such knowledge, if it were possible.

When they had exhausted all there was to do in the mews, Von had invited the Jedi to his quarters to warm up with some hot tea. Obi-Wan had gladly accepted.

"I don't know if I could possibly impress Bartram and D'nar, but they seem to appreciate my interest in the birds," Obi-Wan answered.

"It's more than that. I sense it myself." Von stared at him for a long moment, until Obi-Wan had to look away. He didn't want to get into this arena again.

Von was astute enough to change the topic. "Do you visit Niota often?" The chair squeaked as Von shifted his weight. Obi-Wan cringed, anticipating his collapse to the floor, but the stubborn thing held together.

"Niota? I've been there five or six times. I had to go several times for Keeper's assessments. Master Li can test me on the weapons, but I had to be evaluated by a panel for several of the other subjects."

"I cannot ask you to tell me your Marks, since you do not have them, but what do you Keep?"

Obi-Wan ticked through the list of weapons, cultural histories and languages. Von kept track of the number as he spoke.

"Sixteen. That is quite impressive."

Obi-Wan shrugged. He didn't do it to impress people. He did it because he found it interesting, and he believed in the value of maintaining the skills and knowledge of past cultures.

Von leaned forward, speaking with conviction. "You should do it, Obi-Wan. Take the Marks. Show the worlds that you care about the ancient ways."

Obi-Wan sipped his tea again, wondering how much to admit to this man he barely knew.

"I have considered it," he said reluctantly. "It's just that I don't want to display my knowledge so openly. It's a private issue for me."

"I think it is selfish," Von retorted, and sat back in the chair. "You are more concerned about your own feelings and some sort of self-indulgent modesty than your responsibilities as a Keeper."

The accusation stung. Obi-Wan started to blurt out that it wasn't true, but something made him keep his tongue. Could Von be right?

"I hadn't thought of it in that way."

Von saw he had made an inroad. "Be proud of what you have done, Obi-Wan. When you became a Keeper, it was a lifetime commitment. The permanence of the Marks symbolizes that promise. How will you take Obi-tzun without the Marks? They will not understand what it truly means."

Obi-Wan swirled the dregs in his cup. "Perhaps you're right. I will think about it."

Von tilted his head, assessing the Jedi's face. "It would be interesting receiving sixteen Marks all at once, instead of one or two at a time. You could design a truly wonderful pattern to incorporate them all."

Von's voice turned throaty. "You would be beautiful," he whispered.

"Von!"

The mews master blinked and shook his head. "I am sorry. That was inappropriate. I have a terrible tendency to say what I am thinking. I know you and Qui-Gon are bonded."

"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan said pointedly.

"I am truly sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Of course he would, but could he be comfortable with the man, knowing that he was harboring these feelings for him? Maybe if Von spent time with Qui-Gon and him together, the man would understand that he ought to be daydreaming about someone else. Obi-Wan made a mental note to contrive some such situation.

"Yes, I will," he said to the mews keeper, "but please, let's keep personal issues out of our conversations."

"Agreed. I suppose I have just ruined any chance I had of persuading you to be Von-tzu for bell making. I had hoped I could convince you by showing you the workshop."

"No, you haven't ruined your chances. I am intrigued by it." Obi-Wan reached into a pouch on his belt, and extracted a soft piece of cloth. He unrolled it, revealing a lovely example of craftsmanship. He handed the bell to Von.

"Ah, yes. A Chotem acorn, made by one of the masters. I actually studied with him for several months. There are few better." Von rang the bell and nodded at the fineness of its chime. "Where did you get it?" he asked as he handed it back.

"It was a gift. Qui-Gon gave it to me when I left Grathos the last time I was here."

Von raised his eyebrows. "That is quite a nice gift."

Obi-Wan examined the bell, its size and weight so familiar in his hand, trying to imagine what it would be like to produce one. He looked up at Von. "I would like to be Von-tzu, but I wouldn't be able to start training until I finish my Jedi apprenticeship. Once I gain the rank of knight, I will be here more, but I will still be traveling when I am needed by the Order."

"I confess I do not know much about the Jedi," Von said. "I have always thought they were some sort of cross between intergalactic police and religious zealots."

Obi-Wan laughed, and began to wrap the bell back in its cloth. "There are many who don't understand the Order, and even those who fear us. I'll make you an offer. You teach me bell making, and I will teach you about the Jedi."

Von smiled. "Offer accepted. When can you start?"

"I can't give you a definite time. Probably within the next year. I have to pass my trials first."

"Trials?"

"Think of them as the Jedi version of Keeper assessments."

"Now that I understand."

The promise now made between them, Von went on to show Obi- Wan the various tools of bell making, with a brief explanation of the process. Obi-Wan asked a good many questions, his interest heightened by the prospect of learning the craft. An hour flew by unnoticed, until Obi- Wan felt a tug through the bond and he realized it was midday.

He left with thanks to Von, pleased at the prospect of a new learning experience, and friendship with a fellow Keeper.

The light banks on the ceiling and walls of the sterile room buzzed while emitting an eerie pink glow. It took only a few seconds to kill everything in the room, down to the last microbe. Qui-Gon punched in the code to unlock the doors, and they slid back with a swish. Obi-Wan had seen the room processed several times, but the pink glow still made his skin crawl, knowing its lethal results.

The two men entered the room, stopping for several seconds under an irradiating archway that disinfected them and their clothing. They still brought germs into the area, but the number was greatly reduced by the preventive measure.

The healer carried a small, environmentally-controlled chamber containing the implant he was about to put under Obi-Wan's skin. The Jedi eyed it with apprehension. He was certain that he wanted the procedure, but highly conscious of the fact that it was completely experimental. They had been able to find no evidence of any such trial in the medical literature. He and Qui-Gon were breaking new ground.

"Sit on the table, please, Tiercel, and remove your tunics." Obi-Wan climbed onto the cold metal surface and did as he was told. They had decided that the best place for the implant would be in the hollow space on his upper chest, in front of his shoulder. It was less likely to be disturbed there than if placed elsewhere on his body.

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon collected the instruments he would use for the surgery. A small knot twisted in his stomach, anxiety he tried to dissipate into the Force. Qui-Gon caught the feeling.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"A bit. I don't like feeling so out of control of a situation. I trust you, Qui-Gon; it's just my nature to want to be prepared for any outcome. There's no way to prepare for this."

"It's more likely your training than your nature. Lie back please. Did you have an enjoyable morning at the mews?"

Obi-Wan noted the distraction technique, but agreed it was what he needed. "Yes. It was good to be back handling the birds. I heard all about Hawking Day, and Sirrah Beryt's big hunting party that only caught one skinny ssofit. Von told me a lot about hunting with the eagles. We had a good talk over tea."

"Is he still flirting with you?" Qui-Gon teased. The healer moved to a counter against the wall, and used his foot to switch on a light, irradiating his hands and forearms once more.

"Yes! Except I think this time it was a slip on his part. He didn't mean to. He apologized."

Qui-Gon shook his head, smiling. "Such are the hazards of being a handsome man."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and snorted. He felt a cold solution applied to his skin, swabbed back and forth across his upper chest, over his shoulder, and down his upper arm.

"He asked me to be Von-tzu for bell making, and I said yes."

"That's wonderful. You have the right hands for it. I'm sure you will do well."

The quick nip of a hypospray bit into his shoulder, and the area rapidly went numb.

"Nisha..." Obi-Wan hesitated.

Qui-Gon froze in mid-movement, staring down at his love with concern. "What's wrong? Do you want me to stop?"

"What?" Obi-Wan asked. "Oh, no. Go on. I was just going to ask, what would you think if I decided to take the Marks of Accomplishment?"

There was a pause, and the acrid odor of cauterized flesh stung Obi-Wan's nose. He waited, focusing on the ceiling rather than observe. He heard a soft hiss as the container holding the implant was opened.

"Do you mean the tattoos, like Von has?" Qui-Gon finally asked.

Obi-Wan could feel a slight tugging at the muscles of his shoulder, not painful, but an odd sensation. "Yes, like Von has on his face, and my master. Like this," and he projected an image of Master Li's face.

"Not now, Tiercel."

Of course. Foolish thing to do. "Sorry."

Obi-Wan examined the pattern of lights and ceiling panels, noting in his peripheral vision Qui-Gon's fluid movements between his body and the small table rolled up close to where he lay. When he spared a quick glance at the healer, he saw him frowning in concentration.

A moment more, and Obi-Wan felt warmth spread through his shoulder, a combination of the implement which sealed the wound and Qui-Gon's application of the Force to speed his healing.

Qui-Gon straightened up, leaving his hand over the incision. Obi-Wan felt a surge of relief through the bond. Perhaps the master healer had been more nervous than he admitted.

"I think that you should do whatever you want to do about the Marks. It is not my decision to make." The healer's hand remained over Obi-Wan's shoulder, flooding healing Force into the site as the numbness wore off.

"But it will affect how I look."

"Tiercel, I confess that I find you incredibly attractive, but that is not why I love you. If you choose to take the Marks, I will not love you less, or more." Qui-Gon tipped his head to the side while he examined his bonded's face. "To be honest, I think you would look quite striking with them."

Maybe he would do it, Obi-Wan thought. Perhaps his reluctance really was self-indulgent, as Von had implied.

Qui-Gon removed his hand from Obi-Wan's shoulder and examined the incision. "It looks good. Are you ready for me to activate the implant?"

"No sense in delaying." He started to sit up, but Qui-Gon pushed him back down.

"I think it would be best if you remained prone, just as a precaution." The healer smiled at him, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon held a small tubular device directly over the spot where the implant had been inserted.

"Ready?" he asked one more time.

Obi-Wan nodded, and held his breath.

Qui-Gon pressed the end of the magnetic activator, waited a moment, and pulled back his hand. Nothing happened. Obi- Wan felt no difference at all, and had just decided that it was all a disappointing failure, when his nerve endings began to tingle. The bond started to buzz, and then grow, until Qui-Gon's presence crashed into his mind, bursting through his shields as though they were gossamer. Thoughts, emotions, and experiences washed over him, mixing and churning with his own.

It was like the day he'd returned to Grathos when the renewed bond had surged through them. Obi-Wan grappled with his shields as he had done then, but found his efforts circumvented at every turn. He tried the basic techniques he'd been taught as a youth. He tried the more sophisticated measures he'd just learned in order to cope with the bond to Qui-Gon. Nothing worked.

Obi-Wan felt the first shreds of panic creep into his mind. His vision had become skewed with the activation, as though he were trying to see through two sets of eyes at once. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the disorienting sensory input. Memories of unfamiliar places played in his consciousness. Who were these people? He gripped the sides of the cold metal table. Where was he? Where was his Master?

He searched for a way to orient himself, but could find none, instead sinking deeper into the churning conglomeration of thoughts, losing Obi-Wan Kenobi. He could no longer hear his own inner voice. His ears rang with the sound of his blood rushing through his veins. He began to struggle, grasping his head, trying to get away from whatever was inside his brain.

He might have heard someone shouting. Yes, a voice was telling him to stop fighting, to let go, but he couldn't. If he stopped fighting, he would drown in the miasma that was rapidly pulling him under.

His heart thudded against his ribs. He couldn't breath. This had to stop. He was drowning. He was going to disappear.

He clawed at his chest, tearing at the newly-healed incision in an instinctive attempt to remove the source of his distress. His arm was restrained. He fought to free himself, fiercely striking out with his free hand, but was overpowered. He collapsed back on the table, the blood pounding in his ears, a thousand voices babbling in his head, one faintly discernible above the others, ordering him to stop.

And then there was the Force, delicate and tenuous, weaving into the tumult of his mind. Out of pure instinct, he grabbed onto the power that had sustained him since birth. The Force would save him.

Immediately he felt the familiar comfort of its energy flow within him. He relaxed minutely, testing to see whether ceasing his struggles would cause him to slip further into the whirling pool. No. It was better. By gradual degrees, he gave up his attempts to control his own mind and recover his individuality. He focused solely on the Force, trusting it to catch him if he fell.

*Do you have it Obi-Wan? Have you found the Force?*

The question came from nowhere. He answered with a nod, and immediately lost consciousness.

He awoke in Qui-Gon's bed, enfolded in Qui-Gon's arms. His body tensed in apprehension, but a warm flood of comfort washed away his fear. He was himself again.

The smell of bacta drifted up from the pack pressed against his shoulder. "Did you remove it?"

"No."

"Then how did you...?"

"I didn't do anything but push you into sleep so that your system could become accustomed to the implant," Qui-Gon explained. "I didn't anticipate how sudden or severe the consequences of placing my midichlorians into your body would be. They needed time to adjust."

So the implant was still in his body. He wondered if it was it working.

"How do you feel, my Tiercel?"

"Tired. Sore. Embarrassed."

"I can understand the first two - you put up quite a fight. But you have no reason to be embarrassed." Qui-Gon ran his hand through Obi-Wan's hair, offering support through his touch.

"I panicked. I didn't even think to look for the Force. It didn't even occur to me." He met his lover's sympathetic eyes. "You brought it to me, didn't you?"

The healer paused before answering. "Do you remember, many months ago, the night you found me here, pacing the floors in a rage? I was being pulled into Darkness so swiftly, I had no chance of saving myself. But you were there. You gathered the Light into you, and reached out, providing the lifeline I needed. Do you remember that night?"

Obi-Wan shuddered. "I would rather not, but yes, I do."

"What I did a few hours ago pales in comparison to what you did for me. I only reminded you of something you already knew."

"Thank you. Nameho'tatse, Nisha."

"As I love you."

They lay together, Obi-Wan drawing comfort and support from his bonded. Qui-Gon continued stroking his hair, running his braid through his fingers, until the repetitive motion lulled the young man into slumber.

When he felt his lover drifting in a normal, deep sleep, Qui-Gon rose carefully from the bed. He crossed into the living area, quiet in his stocking feet. His awareness of Obi-Wan had been ratcheted up by the implant; he would know instantly if his bonded developed any symptoms of distress, or if he awoke. The healer settled into a deep chair with his favorite commpad, and spent the next hour making detailed notes about the procedure he had just conducted, along with the subsequent results. Loca discovered him there, and did him the favor of curling around his feet to keep his toes warm.

When he had finished, he placed his notes on the nearby table, and squirmed deeper into the chair. He needed to think. Obi-Wan had decided he would commit himself to the Jedi, but they had not discussed what would happen after that. Qui-Gon thought it was safe to assume that his bonded would make his residence with him, provided the Council would allow it, but what else? What more would be necessary to make a life together with his love? Qui-Gon closed his eyes and leaned his head back, attempting to do something very difficult for him. He tried to imagine the future.

A growling stomach eventually roused him. He hadn't eaten since morning, he realized. He strode into the cooking area, pausing to wave on a light to fend off the rapidly descending darkness. He poked his head into the cold unit, assessing what was available for him to work with. He wasn't the cook that Obi-Wan was, he knew, but he could still put together something edible. He pulled out leftovers, vegetables, greens, and various odds and ends, which he threw together in a distinctly Qui-Gonish concoction. He snitched a bite. Not bad.

And just in time. Obi-Wan was waking up. He divided the food into two bowls, and carried it into the bedroom. He deposited the meal on a bedstand, and returned a moment later with two large glasses of water.

Obi-Wan stretched and smiled up at him. Qui-Gon was relieved to find he looked decidedly better. The healer walked around the bed and pulled the covers down far enough to examine his patient's shoulder. He gently pulled the bacta pack off, and saw the scratches and torn incision were mending nicely.

"Much improved, my Tiercel. Just hold still for a moment." Yet again, he placed his hand on the affected shoulder, and channeled healing Force into the injury. His body tingled as it always did when he concentrated the Force this way, and his hand warmed with the energy transfer.

He noticed a difference, though. There was a rebound effect - a return of Force energy back up his arm. He huffed as he realized what it was. His own midichlorians were responding to him. He lifted his hand, and was startled to see an almost complete healing of the wound. It was amazingly swift. Something else to add to his file about the procedure.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"Much. And hungry as a bantha. I hope that's dinner you brought in." Obi-Wan sat up in the bed as he spoke, adjusting the pillow so that he could lean against the headboard comfortably.

"Try calling it to you," Qui-Gon suggested.

Obi-Wan reached out his hands, and one of the bowls flew at him. If it weren't for quick reflexes, he would have been wearing his meal. He turned wide eyes toward his bonded.

"It seems to be having an effect," he said dryly.

"You should go into the training room tomorrow and experiment a bit - see how much of a difference the implant's made."

"I will." Obi-Wan sniffed the food before taking a cautious bite. "This is good!" He dug into the meal.

He didn't have to act so surprised, Qui-Gon thought indignantly. He walked back to the other side of the room, picked up his own bowl, and made himself comfortable sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Qui-Gon stared as Obi-Wan ate. He was wolfing the food down in huge bites, barely stopping to chew. Every once in a while, his love did something that made him remember just how young he was. Seeing him so ravenous reminded the healer that the youthful body demanded energy, and lots of it. The bowl was empty before Qui-Gon had taken three bites of his own dinner.

"Do you want something more?" he asked.

"No, thanks." Obi-Wan set the bowl aside and settled back on the pillow, ready to talk. "I thought I would do a little research tomorrow. I want to check the local media reports and court records for anything that might be useful in investigating the suspicious activities here."

"You should go up to the main house and use Kerol's comm station. He has much broader security clearance then I do."

Obi-Wan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Nisha, I have Jedi clearance. I can access virtually anything in the Republic.

"Oh." Qui-Gon flushed slightly. "I forget sometimes."

Obi-Wan smiled. "I know. There are times when I forget myself." He sat quietly for a moment, obviously mulling something over. "Maybe I should use the Beryts' access codes, though, if they aren't too restrictive. It would be better not to leave my footprint all over the search records. I would rather the operators behind all this not know a Jedi had been poking around in the files."

"I'm sure Kerol won't mind. I'll leave him a comm tonight letting him know that you'll be up at the house in the morning."

Qui-Gon started to take another bite, but suddenly found he had no appetite. He put the bowl back on the bedstand and gathered his resolve. He wasn't sure why he hesitated. This was his bonded, after all.

"Obi-Wan," he began, "I know you've decided that you will go back to Coruscant and commit to life as a Jedi, but what will happen after you become a knight?"

The younger man shrugged. "I planned on moving here to live with you, providing the Council will permit it, which I am almost certain they will. It actually makes good sense to have a knight in residence in this sector with the questionable goings-on. I could keep an eye on things."

He continued. "I'd also like to teach the padawans that come to the ranch for training. I thought I would put together some weaponry classes for anyone who's interested. I might find someone to whom I can pass on my Keeper's skills.

"I will still be traveling on missions. You understand that, don't you? A Jedi has very little choice when it comes to orders from the Council. If I am called to serve, I must go. I could be gone for weeks, or even months at a time."

It would be difficult, Qui-Gon knew, but he could live with it as long as he knew that Obi-Wan's home was with him - which led him to the other matter. "What of our relationship?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "We are bonded. I don't know what you mean."

"I mean...." Qui-Gon cleared his throat, and realized his palms were sweating. Force, it was silly to be nervous. Just ask him, he scolded himself.

"Would you want to take lifevows?"

Utter shock would best describe the look on his lover's face. Obi-Wan's mouth hung open, and his eyes were as big as akia fruits.

"I... yes!" Obi-Wan finally managed to stammer.

And then there was that grin. That grin made him melt, every time. He loved this man so much. "Good. But I think we should wait until after you're knighted."

"Fine." Obi-Wan still looked dazed.

"Tiercel, are you so surprised?"

"I just never dreamed you would want to. We're already bonded, and you're such a private person. It's just not what I expected from you."

Qui-Gon shifted on the bed to lean against the headboard, and wrapped his arm around his lover's shoulders. Obi-Wan obliged by snuggling close.

"I feel as though the bond was something we had no choice over. It was willed by the Force. I know it would not have lasted if we did not love one another, but the bond formed before either of us realized what our true feelings were."

He looked down at his Tiercel, and picked up his braid. He would miss it when it was gone, he thought. "Taking lifevows is something we can deliberately choose. To me, it is a commitment that goes beyond the bond. It means that I intend to spend the rest of my life with you."

Obi-Wan looked up into the eyes of the man he loved.

Qui-Gon wanted a lifetime together - a lifetime of kisses and touches, leaving and reunion, of riding headlong through meadows and casting falcons into the air. This beautiful man, his Nisha, wanted to spend the rest of his life with him.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, do you know how much I love you?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I believe I do."

Obi-Wan heard the husky voice, laden with affection - and desire. The words crystallized into a fervent need that started in Obi-Wan's groin, spreading outward to all his limbs, making him burn. Force, oh gods above, he just wanted... he needed....

Obi-Wan climbed onto his lover's lap, attacking him with kisses, sweet and harsh. The lips against his were familiar, yet constantly new in a joy of rediscovery. He opened his mouth, knowing that Qui-Gon would enter it. Knowing that his lover would feel free to take anything he had to give was incredibly exciting. Already, his body belonged to Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon's to him.

He reveled in his anticipation of his lover's reactions. He knew that if he ran his tongue over his throat, tasting the salt that concentrated in the hollow of his neck, he would earn a gasp from his bonded. He knew that if he pulled open Qui-Gon's shirt and took a nipple into his mouth, and sucked hard - not lightly - he could elicit a deep groan. He ran his hands over muscles he had long ago memorized, their response under his touch all the more erotic for his foreknowledge. His own phallus surged at the splendor of the strong, beautiful body that was his to plunder.

They broke apart long enough to strip out of their clothes, the task accomplished in record time. Obi-Wan squirmed down the mattress, pulling his love with him until they were both flat on the bed.

Before Obi-Wan could further his intentions, his lover rolled him over onto his back, and began exploring with his mouth. Qui-Gon deliberately avoided his most sensitive places. Instead, he rambled across his chest and arms, licking and nipping, leaving a trail of quivering skin in his wake. He moved further down Obi-Wan's body, not rushing, lingering at his hip, caressing the strong muscles there.

Rough hands finally moved between Obi-Wan's legs, parting them so that he was fully exposed. Qui-Gon leaned forward to nuzzle the tender area, hot breath tickling the fine hairs. Obi-Wan's heart raced as his anticipation built, waiting for the moment when his love would....

"Oh!" His hips bucked forward as Qui-Gon took his phallus into his mouth, sucking hard, but far too briefly. His lover released him to tease the tip of his erection with his tongue, circling and probing.

"Enough," Obi-Wan growled, as he wiggled up and out of Qui- Gon's reach. "On your stomach," he ordered.

Qui-Gon complied with a wide-eyed glance.

Obi-Wan knelt on the bed, looking down at his bonded's powerfully built body. It was irresistible. He dug his fingers into Qui-Gon's broad shoulders, kneading, and then scraped his nails down the length of him, leaving long red stripes on the pale skin. Qui-Gon arched up into the aggressive touch.

The bottle of oil from the bedstand was quickly snatched and held in the air. Obi-Wan drizzled a pattern over his lover's back, down his legs, and finished with a few drops on each foot. What was it about his lover's body that was so delightful to touch? The strong muscles under his fingers as he stroked down the long, lean back? Was it the sigh that drifted up as he rubbed small circles behind each knee? Or the total surrender as he moved to the mounds of his ass, dropping a kiss at the base of his spine, and drifting his fingers across the most sensitive opening? Obi-Wan delighted in it all, canvassing his lover's body until he finally reached the big man's feet. He rubbed them firmly, moving his fingers between the long toes, watching his bonded melt into the mattress as they both reveled in the sensual assault.

Obi-Wan climbed back up over Qui-Gon's body, not touching, placing his knees between his lover's legs, and his hands on either side of the broad shoulders. His braid brushed the body beneath him, provoking small twitches as it stimulated the hypersensitive skin. He leaned down at last to make contact, rubbing his erection along the cleft of Qui-Gon's ass. He moved back and forth, listening to his bonded's breath hitch with each stroke.

Obi-Wan whispered into his ear. "What do you want, Nisha?"

"You," Qui-Gon moaned, rocking up, seeking greater contact than his lover would allow.

"Tell me," Obi-Wan insisted.

"Take me. Please."

The words sent a shiver down Obi-Wan's spine. "Yes, love. I will."

Obi-Wan knelt between Qui-Gon's legs, reaching an arm under his bonded's hips to raise him to a better angle. He ran his hand once more down the lean back, took a deep breath, and sank into his lover's body.

"Oh, gods!" Qui-Gon cried out, trembling. Obi-Wan held still, allowing his lover's body to adjust to the glorious invasion. A moment passed, and Qui-Gon rocked back, signaling his readiness.

Obi-Wan thrust once and stopped. The heat, the pressure, and the love - all were incredible; he wished the moment could last a lifetime. He wanted to be joined to his Nisha forever. He reached out through the bond, opening his mind, and felt the rush of his lover's passion as Qui-Gon reciprocated, making the union complete.

The young man began to rock slowly, with shallow thrusts meant to build, but not satisfy. Qui-Gon whimpered and tried to increase the pace, but Obi-Wan held his hips tightly. He moved in an unhurried, steady rhythm, gasping at the intensity of just how amazingly good it felt. More...short...thrusts. Oh, so good, but he knew there was more. He tipped his pelvis, changing the angle slightly with each successive motion, searching, until he felt the white, blinding pleasure of the hidden spot in his lover's body.

He drew back, and plunged forward. The hard, deep strokes made them both cry out with insensible bliss. Obi-Wan dropped down to press against his lover's back, his hands grasping Qui-Gon's shoulders, pumping his hips, forgetting all attempts at control. He could feel the gathering tightness in his groin, and surrendered to it. Qui-Gon was shaking under him, struggling to hold back, to make it last just a moment longer, but he too was close to the brink. The fire in them exploded, throwing them into climax, both of them lost in a pure moment of shared ecstasy. They rocked together as the orgasm rebounded, basking in the heat of the sweet burn, slowly diminishing, slowly fading to a smoldering warmth that wrapped them in comfort.

Both men collapsed on the bed, physically spent.

"I love you," Obi-Wan whispered.

Qui-Gon pulled him into his arms, and held him tightly. "My Tiercel," he said.

Together, they slept.

The Fifth Day

The wind blew briskly the next morning, a frontal system approaching laden with moisture and the promise of more snow. Obi-Wan felt it sting his cheeks and nose as he hurried toward the main house. He watched as a healthy gust blew into a building crevice and bounced off, picking up leaves in a swirling funnel of air that rattled across the yard in imitation of a tornado.

Kerol Beryt answered his knock, and urged him quickly through the door. "Good to see you again, Obi-Wan. How has your visit been?"

"Fine, Sirrah Beryt," he answered as Kerol took his cloak and hooked it on a peg. "We had a good hunt with the russet buteo."

"So I heard. Von mentioned it to me. Come right in," he gestured down a hallway to the right. "I'm just having a cup of something hot. Can I give you some to take off the chill?"

He led Obi-Wan into the brightly lit kitchen, and poured a steaming cup of spiced barranis. Both men stood, leaning against the counter of the comfortable room.

"I was pleased when I read the message from Qui-Gon saying that you want to do some research before returning to Coruscant. I've been tracking the news reports for several months. This morning I made copies of the files for you to take with you."

"Thank you, that will save me some time."

"Please be honest with me, Obi-Wan. Do you think the Council will send someone to investigate? We so rarely see the Jedi in this sector, outside of the annual training for the padawans. But then, prior to the last few months, there has been no cause for their presence."

"I really can't say what they will do. I simply don't know enough about the inner workings of the Council. I will make a case for attending to the problem soon, rather than let it progress." He debated whether to say anything more, and then decided to indulge himself. "I will say that I wouldn't be surprised if you have a Jedi in residence here on Grathos in the near future."

Kerol looked confused. "But you just said you didn't know what the Council will do."

"I'm talking about me. I hope to be moving to the ranch within the next year, quite possibly sooner."

Kerol furrowed his brow, now thoroughly flummoxed. "Why?" Before Obi-Wan could reply, his face lit up with understanding. "Qui-Gon! You and Qui-Gon!"

Obi-Wan nodded and hid his smile by sipping from his cup.

"I am so pleased," the Sirrah beamed. "Cait and I have been worried about our master healer. He has been solitary for far too long. You will be good for him."

"Thank you. We plan on taking lifevows as soon as I pass my trials and get settled in."

At this, Kerol laughed aloud, and grabbed the padawan in a hug that nearly sent hot barranis flying. "Congratulations! That's wonderful! We'll have the ceremony right here at the house. If you can wait until the warm season, we could have it outdoors in the gardens. There should be enough room for guests if we use the side yard, too."

Obi-Wan had started shaking his head as soon as he heard the word ceremony. His eyes got bigger and his stress level rose precipitously as Beryt babbled on. Finally, he ignored good manners and interrupted his jovial host with an upraised hand.

"No, please. It's very nice of you to offer, but I don't think that's what Qui-Gon had in mind. He's a very private person. I don't think he wants a public ceremony."

"Nonsense! Do you think I would pass up an opportunity for a community celebration? You just leave it to Cait and me. All you and Qui-Gon will need to do is arrive at the appointed time."

Obi-Wan groaned inwardly. What was he going to tell Qui- Gon?

Before he could protest any further, Kerol clapped Obi-Wan on the back and began steering him out of the room. "Enough chat. Let me show you the comm station and give you all the security codes."

Obi-Wan spent the rest of the morning plumbing the public records and augmenting the media files Kerol Beryt had accumulated. He concentrated on scanning for material he thought might be relevant, and forwarding the information to his personal account. He could absorb the details later, when he had more time.

When he was satisfied that he had accessed the most pertinent information available, he sat back and rubbed his eyes. He knew what else he should do while at the comm station, but he was reluctant to carry out the task. Sighing, he punched in the code to access the Jedi's central transport schedule.

Kee came striding up the central aisle of the stables as Obi-Wan approached, wiping her hands on an old blue rag. "Hi, Obi-Wan. Master Qui-Gon will be here in a minute," she said before he could ask for the healer. "He could tell you were coming to talk to him." She seemed a bit in awe of the mental communication between the two men.

"Thanks, Kee." Obi-Wan leaned against a post. "How are you doing? Are you getting back into the routine of the ranch?"

The apprentice hopped up onto a crossboard at the front of a ronto stall, and swang her dangling feet. "Kind of. There really isn't much of a routine for me. Every day is something different. That's one of the things I like about this work."

"Your master is certainly glad to have you back."

The girl smiled shyly. "I know. He doesn't say much, but I can tell he missed me."

"He may not have said anything to you, but he certainly told me. C'idra was about to drive him to distraction."

The apprentice laughed. "C'idra really does try hard. My master can just be - rather demanding."

"No! Really?" Obi-Wan teased, making Kee giggle.

"Really what? Did I miss out on a joke?" Qui-Gon came striding up to them, catching only the last bit of conversation.

Obi-Wan winked at Kee. "Your apprentice was just telling me that she is having trouble living up to your expectations after having C'idra as an assistant the last few months."

"Hmph. It is Kee that has me spoiled, she is so capable at her work." Qui-Gon spoke to Obi-Wan, but glanced at his apprentice out of the corner of his eye.

She beamed. "Thank you, Master. I should get back to work now." She hopped down to the floor. "See you later, Obi- Wan."

"Good to see you, Kee."

When the girl had disappeared around a corner, Qui-Gon grabbed his bonded around the waist and pulled him forward for a quick kiss.

The suddenness of Qui-Gon's kisses still managed to surprise Obi-Wan. He hoped it would always be so.

"How did your research go?" the healer asked. "I felt quite a surge of stress come through the bond early this morning. Did you find something serious?"

Obi-Wan frowned. Nothing he'd found had been that alarming. He flushed as he realized Qui-Gon must have picked up on his near-panic reaction to Sirrah Beryt's party planning. He had decided to avoid that topic for the present. He would leave it to the Beryts to inform Qui-Gon of upcoming events.

"No, I didn't find anything too specific," he said, "but I need more time to read the files carefully. Only one name jumped out at me. I remember hearing it in connection with a slavery case in a distant sector, but I don't recall the details."

"Slavery!" Anger flared from his bonded. "I fear for our future. It will be a good thing when you are a knight, living here and reporting to the Council."

"I hope that will be soon. Qui-Gon, I'm...." He hesitated. He didn't want to say the words, because that would make them real. Once more, emotion battled with logic.

But Qui-Gon knew him well enough to guess. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "In the morning. There is a Jedi transport stopping on Buir tomorrow evening. Sirrah Beryt offered his pilot and cruiser to take me to meet the ship."

Qui-Gon looked so sad. "I had hoped we would have a little longer together."

"If I don't go now, it would be at least another week, and I feel that I must go. It's so hard to explain, Nisha. Even though I want to be here with you, I want to go back. The sooner I can talk to Master Li, the sooner I might have my trials. I don't think I've told you that she's already recommended me to the Council. My trials could be at any time, whenever they feel I'm ready."

"I understand, Tiercel. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back." Qui-Gon shrugged. "For some reason, it's just more difficult for me this time."

Obi-Wan stepped forward to lean against Qui-Gon's chest, wrapping his arms around the big man. Qui-Gon accepted the loving embrace, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against the top of Obi-Wan's head. Bolstered by the wordless comfort, he finally stepped back. "You should go to the workout rooms and test your Force abilities before you leave. We want to be as confident as possible that the implant is functioning."

"I'm going there now."

"Let me know if you need me."

Obi-Wan smiled. "I'll always need you, Qui-Gon." He turned and headed back outside, leaving the healer standing alone, looking almost as forlorn as he felt.

It was comforting, in a way, to be spending his last evening on Grathos doing something so mundane as sharing the after-dinner cleaning up. It made Obi-Wan feel like this was his home, and life here would always be good and simple.

The afternoon spent in the training room had reinforced what both men already suspected. The implant had enhanced Obi-Wan's Force abilities substantially. The Force came to him with almost no effort, surging through his mind and body to the extent that he had struggled to moderate its effects, rather than have it overtake him. Qui-Gon had noticed a difference in their bond, sometimes knowing what his love was going to say before he spoke. Twice, he had answered a question before it was asked. It was, as Obi- Wan put it, spooky.

They knew, of course, that these effects were likely to change rapidly once Obi-Wan left Grathos. In the past, his deprivation had worsened with time. Now, only time would reveal if their experiment would ultimately be successful.

As they put away the last of the clean tableware, they heard a soft knock at the door, followed by the tapping of light feet descending the stairwell. With a questioning glance toward Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon crossed the living area to open the door, finding a commpad swinging from the hook at its center. He plucked it off, and kicked the door shut as he thumbed the unit on.

He raised an eyebrow as he read. "It's from Kee. She informs us that we are to proceed to the back pasture, where we will find a surprise."

"Do you know what this is about?" Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I have no idea, although she was not to be found around the stables this afternoon."

Obi-Wan grinned. "I guess we'd better follow instructions."

They dressed warmly for the cold, clear night, pulling on heavy socks, boots, sweaters, and gloves. Feeling a bit like children starting out for an adventure, the two men - and one black streak of racing kanid - headed out.

"Is this something she has done before?" Obi-Wan asked as they crossed the frozen ground, leaving bootprints in the fresh dusting of snow deposited that afternoon.

"No. I have no idea what to expect. She can be quite creative." Qui-Gon actually sounded a bit worried.

They headed toward a green glowstick that shone well into the field. As they got closer, they could make out some sort of structure silhouetted against the soft moonlight. When they were only a few meters away, a tiny light flickered at the base, which grew into a flame, and in a moment the pile went up in a blaze.

Kee appeared from behind the bonfire, and took each of the lovers by the hand, leading them to a wooden bench she had placed to the side. Without a word, she pressed a small package into Obi-Wan's hand, kissed his cheek, and ran off into the night.

Qui-Gon laughed. "I guess this is my apprentice's idea of a romantic evening." He sat down on the bench, and pulled Obi-Wan close to him, wrapping his arm around his bonded's waist.

"Well, I approve. This is wonderful." He cuddled close to his love, and together they watched the fire leap and dance. The limbs and branches crackled as they burned, lofting a shower of sparks into the air. They glowed as they traveled upward, seemingly destined to join the stars as lights in the night sky.

Qui-Gon gazed up and gestured with his finger. "How many have you been to, Tiercel?"

"Stars? None of them. They're rather hot to go visiting."

An elbow jabbed into his ribs roughly. "You know what I mean," Qui-Gon chided.

"How many worlds? I have no idea, Nisha. Fifty? A hundred? Some I would love to take you to, some I wish I could forget."

"Which is your favorite?" Qui-Gon asked, still staring at the twinkling sky.

"Silly question." Obi-Wan wrapped his gloved hand around his lover's head, and gently pulled him forward. They kissed tenderly, tongues just barely touching.

They snuggled together on the bench, the firelight chasing shadows across their faces. Even though the blaze gave off plenty of heat to keep them warm, Qui-Gon stretched out his long legs to put his feet closer to the flames. He tapped the tips of his boots together, and fidgeted with his coat, uncharacteristically restless.

"Aren't you going to open the box?" he finally asked.

"I'd forgotten about it!" Obi-Wan retrieved the object from beside him on the bench, and handed it to his love. "You open it."

Qui-Gon took the container, and used his teeth to pull the glove from his free hand. Obi-Wan could feel his lover's curiosity, matching his own. The healer pressed his finger on the lid's touchpad, and the box opened with a small sigh. It had been stasis-sealed. Both men leaned forward quickly in their eagerness to view the contents, smacking foreheads clumsily. "Oh, all right, you look," Qui-Gon huffed as he rubbed his bruised head.

Obi-Wan took the box and peered in. Two small spheres lay inside the container, nestled on a soft bedding of shredded plant material. They glowed softly.

"Oh, Nisha. They're omji! Where did Kee ever get the credits for something so extravagant?"

Qui-Gon not only did not know the source of Kee's assumed wealth, he also did not know what an omji was. "They're what?" he asked.

"Omji. They grow wild on Xythian Prime. They're incredibly expensive because they're so rare, and no one's ever been able to cultivate them. I've only seen them once before. I've never had one myself."

"And what does one do with an omji?" Qui-Gon asked with exaggerated patience.

"You eat them. Well, sort of. You put it on your tongue, and pop it against the roof of your mouth. They react with an individual's body chemistry, so they taste and smell different to each person. The flavinoids inside them activate a neural response, which combines with the taste and the aroma to trigger a memory. It's supposed to be very vivid - as if you're reliving the moment."

"How intriguing." Qui-Gon retrieved the box from Obi-Wan, and tilted it to catch the light of the fire. The glow deepened. "Is there any way to choose the memory?"

"No, but I've heard that the memory it brings out depends on who you are with, and what kind of mood you're in when you eat it."

Qui-Gon snorted. "Then I suspect I know what I will recall." He leaned in for a quick kiss, willingly given.

"Who goes first?" Obi-Wan asked, excited by an opportunity he'd never expected to have. It really was an outrageous gift.

"Would you mind?" Qui-Gon asked sheepishly. He was caught up in Obi-Wan's enthusiasm.

"Of course not, Nisha. You can go first, but we should open the bond more, so we can share whatever happens."

"Agreed. Here, get comfortable." Qui-Gon turned to straddle the bench, and Obi-Wan moved so that he sat with his back against the larger man's chest, Qui-Gon's arms wrapped around him. They sat still for a moment as they both dropped their mental walls, allowing the joining of their minds.

*Ready?* Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan felt a little thrill run down his spine, the feeling he always got when fully opened to the bond, enhanced by the prospect of experiencing the unknown. *Ready.*

Qui-Gon gingerly lifted one of the omji and placed it in his mouth. Obi-Wan could feel it - cool against his lover's tongue, and strangely tasteless - until soft pressure made it explode against the roof of his mouth.

It tasted like...

... a late summer's dawn, heavy with dew. Qui-Gon strode back and forth across the padawan dormitory room, waiting for Obi-Wan Kenobi to emerge from the 'fresher. Hell's bells, what was he doing in there?

The healer had entered the building in the slowly fading darkness, and cast out for the Force signature of a particular apprentice. The ease with which he'd located Obi-Wan was a bit disconcerting. It was yet more evidence supporting his suspicion that the Force was playing matchmaker between him and this disarming young man.

Qui-Gon had opened the unlocked door, and crossed the spartan room to the small bed. Obi-Wan lay on his back, barely visible in the pre-dawn light, arms thrown out and sheet tangled around his body. The healer had stood for a time, staring down at the man who'd had such an unexpected effect on him. He still couldn't quite believe that this padawan had risked himself - thrown his soul wide open and reached out despite the personal danger of exposure to Darkness - to save someone he barely knew. It was quite remarkable.

The healer had been attracted to Obi-Wan for weeks - ever since he'd appeared in the horse's quarter when the black mare was giving birth. A friendship had grown between them since, fostered during the many afternoons spent working together in the stables. But now, since the young man had saved him on that tumultuous evening, something positively drove him toward the Jedi. His feelings ran unaccountably deep, beyond just the tremendous physical attraction, to the first stirrings of what he suspected might be love. Today, he would find out if those feelings were reciprocated.

He just had to be patient, he counseled himself as he paced. *If* the fellow would ever get out of the 'fresher.

Finally, he heard the door's latch rattle. Qui-Gon picked up Obi-Wan's boots and handed them to the padawan as he emerged. He watched as the apprentice sat on the edge of the bed and quickly pulled the footwear on, fastening the buckles with the ease of familiarity. Force, Qui-Gon thought, even his hands were beautiful.

When Obi-Wan was completely dressed and ready to go, Qui- Gon headed out the door and down the hallway. He wanted to get moving before it was truly light, so that they could watch the dawn on the way up the mountain. He suspected Obi-Wan would share his appreciation for the moment when the sky lit up with pinks and purples, painted by the long rays of sunrise.

They reached the outer door, Obi-Wan's footsteps marking his presence close behind him. The strange connection pulled at Qui-Gon again, something drawing him to the apprentice like human magnetism. They went down the stairs and crunched over the gravel to where the horses obediently waited.

Obi-Wan moved toward Storm, taking up the reins without question. The young man trusted him completely, Qui-Gon realized. The tie between them again grew a bit stronger. He could ignore it no longer.

Qui-Gon stepped up beside Obi-Wan, who turned toward him with an expectant look on his face, as though he anticipated some sort of direction or comment. The early morning light touched his eyes, his cheeks. Enough of waiting. Qui-Gon slid his hand into the short, soft hair, tipped Obi-Wan's head back, and kissed him.

A moment of surprise slipped by, and then, yes, Obi-Wan's arms were around him, his lips eager against his own. Oh, there was no doubt. The young man kissed him fiercely, his passion making the thready connection between them sing. All the intensity Qui-Gon had seen in the padawan came to focus on this exchange, with lips demanding a show of his own desire, and a brief touch of the young man's tongue promising of the future. Obi-Wan moaned; Qui-Gon's heart raced.

He drew back, breaking it off before it turned into something they were not yet ready for. Obi-Wan smiled up at him with an expression somehow both confident and shy. Qui-Gon ran his thumb lightly over the man's cheek, finally touching the handsome face. He knew he would remember that kiss for the rest of his life.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." Qui-Gon was surprised at the huskiness of his voice. He moved around his horse, put his foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle.

Obi-Wan stared up at him for a moment before replying. "I'm glad that you did." The padawan moved into position on the ever-patient Storm. Qui-Gon urged Marenga ahead, toward the first rays of color streaking the sky.

But the colors dissolved into stars, and the early morning mist transformed into tendrils of smoke wafting up from a fire.

"That was amazing." Qui-Gon hugged his lover tightly, buzzing still from the intensity of the dearly-held memory.

"You knew long before I did," Obi-Wan said. "I never realized that you suspected the bond so early on."

"The Force was speaking to me in a way I had never experienced. It was somewhat frightening, to be honest. At the most basic level, I just knew that I had to be with you. There was no denying it."

"I suppose I knew it, too, deep down. I was just slower to recognize what was happening. We should share more of those memories, even if it is without the enhancement of these little treats." He held up the container, illustrating his point.

"It's you're turn, Tiercel. What do you think the omji will bring forward in your mind?"

"I really couldn't guess," Obi-Wan replied. "Let's find out."

He picked up the second orb, and held it up to the flickering light. It was transparent and shiny, reflecting the dancing oranges and yellows of the fire. He placed it on his tongue, and waited for a second, closing his eyes in anticipation of what might happen. Qui-Gon hugged him from behind, he pressed his tongue up, and the sphere burst.

The pungent scent of high summer filled his nose. It was going to be another hot day. Obi-Wan was glad they had gotten an early start. Already perspiration made his hair cling to the back of his neck. He would be glad when it was long enough to braid, so that he could get it out of his eyes and off his collar. If this oppressive heat continued, he might not be able to wait that long. He would have to convince Kee to cut it for him.

He looked ahead at Qui-Gon and Marenga, riding smoothly through the tall green grass dotted with white starflowers. Loca bounded along beside them, at times disappearing into the lush meadow. Obi-Wan followed close behind, keeping mental tabs on the welfare of Storm and the hooded bird that rode on his glove. He was keenly aware of their safety, knowing it would be dangerous for either of them to become overheated.

He glanced at the longwing, and his head spun with sudden disorientation. He didn't recognize this bird. His confusion made the horse pull up, breaking her rhythmic stride. Obi-Wan stared a moment longer, blinking hard, and then the odd sensation dissipated. Of course, this was one of the gyr's offspring. Obi-Wan shook off the strange feeling, and urged his mount forward so that they didn't get too far behind.

The hawking party climbed further up the trail, the heat becoming less burdensome with altitude. They left behind the constant buzzing of the lizects' leathery wings as they followed the path into a small copse of trees. On the far edge, Qui-Gon reined in, and Loca sat at Marenga's side. Obi-Wan stopped beside them.

Both men opened leather satchels to extract soft thin straps, and switched these with the jesses the birds wore. The longwings became edgy. They new the hunt was near. Next came the bells, fastened to the legs with similar strips of leather. Obi-Wan picked a silver bell out of the pouch at his side, and rolled it over in his hand before attaching it. Better, he thought. He could see an improvement with each pair. He shook the second one lightly before affixing it to the bird's leg, and was pleased by the tone. He was making progress there, too. He glanced at Qui-Gon, who was placing the beautiful Chotem bells on the tiercel he carried. Obi-Wan knew he would never be able to produce such fine workmanship, but he would keep trying. His goal was to one day produce a pair of bells good enough to present as a gift to his bondmate.

The birds were now ready, and Loca was anxiously awaiting his command. Obi-Wan led the group out of the trees into a sparse field, dotted with scraggly shrubs. They took a moment to gauge the wind direction, and moved quietly to an advantageous position. The two riders pulled up side by side, and with a glance shared between them, unhooded the birds.

The longwings immediately turned to find each other. This pair had been flown together often enough for them to become an efficient team. They'd developed a cooperative technique that had repeatedly proven more successful than the efforts of either bird hunting alone.

Everyone in the group - animal and human - was now tense with anticipation. With one last check of the wind, the two men drew back their arms, and slipped the birds into the air. Muscles pumping, the longwings climbed quickly, finding the air currents to provide lift. Obi-Wan was once again overcome by envy. In this moment, he always found himself fervently wishing that he were not such a gravity- bound creature. He could only fly in his dreams.

When the gyr had reached her favored height, with her tiercel partner hovering 30 meters below, Obi-Wan released the kanid with his anticipated command. "Hunt, Loca."

The animal took off like a black streak through the field, charging into habitat he knew from experience hid the fat birds the longwings favored. He dashed through one likely patch of cover without success. The predators hovered above, following his movement. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan moved forward slowly, not crowding the kanid.

A pudgy geroult bolted from the next patch of shrubs Loca bounded into, flapping its short wings furiously to gain momentum. Three more followed suit as the flusher completed his duties.

Obi-Wan held his breath as the tiercel stooped toward the first flushed bird, plummeting so fast it was hard to track his sleek body as it fell through the sky. He pulled up behind the geroult, and gave chase at the tail, keeping the prey in the air and focused on his pursuit.

The gamebird never saw the second longwing. She began her stoop when she saw that her partner had the prey preoccupied, and heading over open territory. Fast as lightning, the beautiful gyr dropped onto the geroult, with a resultant puff of feathers floating in the air. Obi-Wan was always amazed at the birds' ability to brake their fantastic descent in time to catch their prey and still land so gracefully.

They found the birds together, the female hunched over her kill and the tiercel standing guard. The gyr gave up the geroult to Obi-Wan without hesitation, as she had been trained to do. He deposited the limp form in a coldpack stored in his satchel, thinking of how tender the plump breast would be when sautéed with scallions and sliced mycelial fruits.

Qui-Gon joined him, and in a moment, both longwings were hooded and back on the gauntlet. They would be rewarded when they were out of the direct sun.

Obi-Wan swept the hair from the back of his neck as he walked through the tall grass, wishing for a breeze. Even at this altitude, it had become hot in the open field. "How about a quick swim before we head back?" he proposed.

Qui-Gon was looking more than a bit wilted. "Sounds wonderful, " he agreed, and headed the group back to the trail that would lead them upward and east of the hunting grounds.

They wound their way quickly through familiar territory, until at last they were in the expanse of trees which bordered the glacial lake. The two men dismounted. Obi- Wan took the tiercel on his glove while Qui-Gon snapped together perches for the birds in the shade of the evergreens. They quickly performed the routine of removing bells and switching jesses back to those which could be clipped to the perch swivels. Each longwing was given a meaty wing saved from the previous day's hunt, and left to eat and rest in the relative cool of the woodland.

The men led their mounts the short distance down to the lake. The dark surface shimmered under the sun, now almost directly overhead. The water beckoned, promising relief from the oppressive heat. With the horses left to drink and relax in the shade, and Loca already soaked, both men were free to strip off their damp clothing and dive into the lake.

Obi-Wan dug deep, pulling far down into the frigid water to cool off before kicking back up to the surface. He broke through with a gasp, invigorated by the beauty and power of the lake that would always be magical to him. He turned over and drifted. The cold at his back was a wonderful contrast to the heat on his front side. It was so peaceful, he could float like this for hours.

Qui-Gon surfaced, centimeters away. "No, you couldn't. You'd be red as a berry from sunburn."

"Quit eavesdropping!" Obi-Wan protested, splashing his bondmate in the face.

"You shouldn't think so loud," Qui-Gon retorted with a retaliatory flush of water.

It took only a second for the men to turn into children, laughing, splashing, and dunking one another in the cold water. The rough play soon turned to groping, touching and finally, kissing, until they were both breathless. They broke apart, exhilarated by the day, and by their love. By unspoken agreement, they turned and swam to shallower water.

They faced the center of the lake to watch the swifts darting over the surface in search of insects. Obi-Wan tipped his head back, using the water to pull the hair away from his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Qui-Gon watching. He stared so long that Obi-Wan began to feel self-conscious.

"What?" he finally asked, unable to read his bondmate's thoughts.

"I was just thinking," Qui-Gon said, "that I never imagined you could be more handsome than when I first fell in love with you." He moved closer, tracing his fingers lightly over Obi-Wan's face. "But these make you even more beautiful."

"Flatterer," Obi-Wan scolded, but the comment prompted him to look down at his reflection, wishing he could see himself as Qui-Gon did. He had to admit, Li had done an outstanding job of designing a pattern to accentuate his features. The fine blue lines traced over his cheeks, parting to go around his eyes, rising up over his forehead and into his hairline. He wondered now why he had ever hesitated to be Marked. He wore the adornment with pride.

Water splashed into his face. "Race you to the far side!" Qui-Gon yelled, and plunged in.

Obi-Wan took off after him, kicking hard to make up for his lover's head start. He was just managing to pull ahead when the cold, dark water turned into cold night air.

Obi-Wan blinked, trying to determine precisely what was reality. He recognized his bonded's presence behind him, warming his back and resting gently in his mind. Still, he was dazed by what he'd seen. *Nisha, that was not a memory.*

Qui-Gon whispered into his ear. "No, Tiercel. That was a gift."

The two men sat next to the glowing embers of the dying fire, the chill of the night creeping into their bones. Neither wanted to move until the images were firmly locked into their memories. They represented such rich promise of the future.

"Let's go back, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said at last with a hug. "I want to spend the night making love to you."

Obi-Wan shifted around so that he could see his bonded's face in the soft glow. "I would like that very much."

They rose from the bench, stretching to relieve muscles cramped from sitting so long. Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon down for a kiss. "Nisha, nameho'tatse."

"As I love you, my Tiercel."

They started back toward the stables, walking quietly under the stars. Obi-Wan's step was light, buoyed by the hope of things to come. In a strange way, he was anxious to leave. He wanted to complete this phase of his life so that he was free to begin the next. He knew the glimpse of the future he had shared with Qui-Gon was not a certainty. The future was ever changing. But he had good reason to hope that one day he would live a life of great joy with his bonded on this beautiful world.

Obi-Wan wriggled his gloved fingers between Qui-Gon's, and walked back across the field hand-in-hand with his lover - his lifemate - toward home.

The End.