Master Apprentice
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Miles To Go
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Archive: MA and my site, Mom's Kitchen (www.hawksong.com/~momskitchen)
Category: Drama, angst and sex
Pairing: Obi-Wan/Bail Organa (gasp!)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Losing.
Disclaimer: What, you think I own these guys? Do I even look like George Lucas? If this is not what you expected, please alter your expectations. No such thing as random coincidence. No such thing as too much lubricant.
Warning: Never say 'bite me' to a cat.
Series: Never.
Notes: A Jedi Santa story which turned into a total downer! So much for writing a happy holiday piece. This was written as a gift for Arfeazeevilone, who wanted an Obi-Wan/Anybody but Qui-Gon (I believe). Thanks to Claude, of course, for her wonderful beta work.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,--Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep
Time passes slowly on Tatooine. The seasons are broken into merely 'hot' and 'hotter' and the 'rainy times' generally consist of about an hour on a Tuesday morning seemingly chosen at random. Adding insult to injury, it was at least as lonely as it was hot and boring. No one in their right mind wanted to live on Tatooine, which made it an excellent place to hide -- especially to hide someone not in his right mind.
Once the infrastructure of the Rebel Alliance was set in place, there wasn't much else to do but wait. Ben Kenobi was good at waiting where Obi-Wan Kenobi would have chafed. But Obi-Wan seemed to have died at about the same time his padawan had caught fire; he'd died on Mustafar as surely as if he'd been pushed into the lava and melted. His only relief came roughly twice a year, when he'd receive a coded 'dumb' signal telling him to make the trek into Mos Eisley or Anchorhead to meet with Chewbacca. Even though they never saw each other for much longer than it took to pass a datachip or drink an ale, Obi-Wan found himself eager to make the long, hot trek across the Dune Sea when the signal came. Eager to reconnect with others. Eager to prove to himself that he was not dead. Not yet.
Years passed, marked only by the height and weight of Luke Skywalker as he grew.
When Luke was about three, a signal came late. Obi-Wan knew it was later than usual due to his dwindling stores, and so he set out with no small amount of trepidation. Chewbacca was as reliable and safe as any Wookiee, which is to say a bit more than any human. He'd been serving as a pilot on a variety of ships, but the last time, he had taken a job working for a smuggler named Solo. Chewbacca had told him there was a life-debt between the two of them and he would be working with the man aboard a patched-up freighter called the Millennium Falcon for some time to come.
When Obi-Wan got to Mos Eisley, though, there was no sign of the Falcon. Instead there was a different freighter, registered from Alderaan, carrying an old friend and new worries.
They met in the cantina Obi-Wan always frequented with Chewbacca. Obi-Wan would have liked to embrace Bail, kiss him, cry on him. Instead, he settled for hissed, frightened questions. "What are you doing here? Where's Chewbacca? Is Leia all right?"
Bail Organa looked like hell and Obi-Wan suspected it wasn't a disguise, like his ripped and well-used clothing. "She's fine. They're both fine. Chewbacca is doing some sort of complicated smuggling operation for the Alliance with Solo; I told him I'd pass along the latest information to you." He slid a datachip across the table; Obi-Wan took it and made it disappear. "Leia is doing well. Rouge and Tarrick are looking after her."
They had to keep their voices down, even though they sat in a shadowy corner of the smoke-filled room, out of range of everyone. "Rouge and...? Is Breha..."
"She's dying." Bail wouldn't look directly at him. "It's a wasting disease. She's got perhaps a year more. The doctors can do nothing for her but make her comfortable."
The news hit Obi-Wan like a punch to his gut. "Oh gods. I'm sorry." Bail's wife dying? "When..."
"About a year ago. We went from doctor to doctor for a while, hoping to find a cure, but there's nothing." Bail picked at a crack in the filthy table with his fingernail; his hands trembled. "It doesn't change anything, but I thought you should know."
Obi-Wan meant to touch Bail's hand to reassure, to commiserate. But as he reached out, Bail looked up into Obi-Wan's face and the pain there made Obi-Wan turn the touch into a hold. "Is there anything I can do?"
Bail looked back down. "No."
They were silent for a while, letting the noise and smells mask their anguish. "You shouldn't be here, you should be home with her. You're taking a terrible risk."
"No. It's all right. There's nothing I could have done at home anyway." He gently freed his hand from Obi-Wan's grip and was back picking at the chip in the table. "Leia has a playmate, a little girl about her age named Winter. They're inseparable. Tia and Celly have set themselves up on Coruscant and are acting as a clearinghouse for the Alliance; they're doing quite well -- operating a brothel of all things. It's a good thing our mother isn't alive to see it. The information from them is on the chip as well. And there's been rumors that some... that Jorus is still alive."
It was Obi-Wan's turn to look away. "No. He's not."
Bail seemed to be hunting for the right words. "Don't you think there could be others, some who escaped, some who--"
"No. They're all dead."
"I'm just saying there may be a few, we never found bodies for some of them..."
"Bail. Stop." Obi-Wan held onto his serenity with both fists, speaking as low as he could. "They're all dead. If they weren't killed by the clone troopers, then An..." He choked, grabbed his glass and tossed back half of the liquid within it; it burned as it slid down his throat. "Anakin killed the rest. I have ways of knowing this."
"I'm sorry."
"So'm I."
The trembling in Bail's hands seemed worse. Obi-Wan put his hand once again on top of Bail's. "Bail. You need to leave, before you're seen. This is a backwater place but..."
"No, there's more, I'm supposed to give you more... I need to talk, to tell you..." Bail raised his glass and finished the rest of his drink while glancing around. "Come back with me, to the ship."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Too dangerous for you."
"Somewhere... somewhere more private."
It was against his better judgment, but Obi-Wan finally nodded. Apparently, Obi-Wan wasn't the only one who yearned for companionship and the memories of things past. "All right."
It was an all-day trip to Mos Eisley via eopie, so old Ben Kenobi usually took a room at a run-down rooming house at the edge of town. The woman who ran it, a widow, was so taciturn she made a rock look talkative and had no truck with the Imperialists who nominally ran the planet. You would think that because the Empire had outlawed slavery -- all slavery but that it imposed -- and enforced that law (even on such out-of-the-way places as Tatooine) that they'd be welcomed on the planet. They were not, which really only pointed to the sheer cussedness of those who made the fiery world their home.
Still, Obi-Wan made sure they weren't followed as he hurried Bail back to his room. There was no such thing as being too careful.
It was still early in the day and the afternoon's searing heat had not yet rendered everyone torpid. The room was dim and the thick walls made it feel closer than it was. It held a bed, a rickety table and chair, and single light bulb suspended from the ceiling by a cord.
"It's not Cantham House," Obi-Wan said, ushering Bail inside. "But it's nearly as secure. Have a seat."
Bail elected to sit on the bed so Obi-Wan took the chair and turned it, sitting down backwards on it. He crossed his arms on the back of the chair and looked at Bail. "I thought you were going to stay out of the whole rebellion thing, Bail."
Scrubbing his face with his hands, Bail slumped on the bed. "I thought I was too. Hric convinced me otherwise. This bed has to be nearly as hard as the floor."
Smiling without mirth, Obi-Wan nodded. "I thought he might, but I'm going to have to remind you of the prize you're hiding. There can be nothing drawing attention to you and from there to her. No one can know she's not your true daughter."
Bail sighed. "I know, I know. Actually, Tarrick tells me that most believe her to be Tia's love child, given to us to care for and to hide her 'shame.'" He snorted. "Leia's only three and she's already orating. She comes to me with the most unbelievable questions, Obi-Wan..."
"Ben."
"Sorry." Bail swallowed hard. "Do you remember when you first introduced me to Anakin?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, herding his pain behind the lids. "Yes. I do."
"She's so much like him, and she looks exactly like Padme. She's stubborn and intelligent and..."
"And her midi-chlorian count is almost as high as her father's was, as her brother's is. She's going to need to be reined in, constantly, if she's to be kept safe."
"I know. I know. But now, with Breha..." Bail looked down at his hands and Obi-Wan could almost smell the tears in his eyes. "I can't... I don't know how to raise a child, Ob-- Ben. Breha always wanted children and I thought this way..."
"You're her father, Bail. Not that mechanized evil thing... you. You're the only father she'll ever know." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and remembered how it felt to hold Leia in his arms; how it felt to hear her, in his ears and in the Force; how it felt to show her to the mother she would never know. "She must be raised in the Light and kept from... from him."
"You're telling me things I already know, Ben."
"Then why are you here? You said you had things to say."
With another sigh, Bail slowly leaned back on the hard bed and stared at the ceiling. His boots, still on the floor, were scuffed and coated with a fine layer of Tatooine sand. It was so unlike the normally unflappable, impeccably dressed and upright Prince Bail Organa, Viceroy of Alderaan, Senator of a Republic which was no more. He had changed. So had Obi-Wan. They had both changed through necessity and grief, and Obi-Wan hated that change with all his heart.
After a long while, Bail spoke again, in a voice so soft Obi-Wan had to strain to hear it. "I'm afraid, Ben. I love her, I love both of them so much. Breha is going to leave me, and how much longer will it be before Leia does? How can I protect her against what's happening in the galaxy? Should I even try? There are no more Jedi save for you and Master Yoda. How can I show her what the Light is like when there is only Darkness left?"
It was a long moment before Obi-Wan could find his voice. "You'll teach and protect her with your love, Bail. That's the only thing you can do and it is the most important thing you can do."
"That's not good enough." Bail's hands closed into fists. "I went there, you know, to the Temple. I saw the smoke, heard the alarms, I went to find out what was going on. The clones threatened me. They should have deferred to my rank but they threatened me. Me! A senator on the Jedi Oversight Committee! That's when I realized something horrible was going on, something dreadful. Then..." He choked briefly but managed to continue. "A boy, a youngling, he leapt over their heads, he tried... he was trying... he recognized me, he said to get down, he was trying... he was trying to defend me and they... they cut him down... oh, gods..."
It had been a long time since Obi-Wan thought of the Temple, of the massacre that had happened there. He hadn't wanted to dwell on it, hadn't wanted to even think about it, remember watching the security tapes of screaming younglings being cut down by the man he considered his brother. Putting his forehead on his crossed arms, he released his anguish into the Force. "He was a padawan. He was doing his job."
"He was a child! How can you--"
"Do you know how many of us died in the arena on Geonosis?" Obi-Wan demanded, suddenly angry. "And how many of them were padawans? We protect, Bail. That's our job. Was. Our job. And it doesn't matter how old or young we are. We were. Were." No one left but him and Yoda. And the Skywalker twins. He was just about the last Jedi, and maybe that was a good thing.
The only sound in the room was Obi-Wan's harsh breathing, and once he realized that, he took a deep breath and held it. He let it out slowly, calming himself, out of long habit once again releasing his feelings into the Force. Behind his eyelids, he saw Anakin, his friend, his brother, the slayer of younglings, the man who almost killed his own children. He knew Anakin had been reborn in the shape of a monster and was continuing to kill, and he didn't care. Anakin, his Anakin, had died along with Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. Anakin had betrayed himself as well as his master and the Jedi. Anakin Skywalker was dead.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, I didn't mean to call up old pain..." Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find Bail crouched down before him, reaching for his face. There was no moisture on Obi-Wan's cheeks but Bail ran his thumbs over Obi-Wan's cheekbones anyway. "We've lost... lost so much, Obi-Wan. Why must we lose more before we can fix this?"
Obi-Wan didn't correct Bail's use of his real name. Instead, he used his hands to carefully frame Bail's face, drawing him up gently. The kiss, when it came, was as gentle and fleeting as the rain on Tatooine. When Obi-Wan stood, Bail went with him, and they both found their way to the bed so the kisses could continue.
They took their time, undressing each other in the sweltering heat of a Tatooine day. Neither spoke and Obi-Wan knew they were both thinking of others as they coupled on the hard bed in the dingy room.
Water is precious on Tatooine. Every drop must be saved and preserved. Though it is impossible to keep from sweating, younglings on Tatooine learn early that crying for any reason can be optional, so they shed no more tears. Obi-Wan learned that lesson well within a few days of his exile. Bail, however, was from Alderaan, where water was as ubiquitous as sand was on Tatooine, and so he wept even as he pushed himself inside Obi-Wan; he wept as he gasped out Breha's name, just before he came, and wept when Obi-Wan came, silently.
They were still for a long time, sealed together by sweat, semen and pain, while the day moved on towards evening and the suns slowly crawled to their evening home. Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed as he hugged Bail, welcoming the weight on top of him even as he wished it to be someone else's.
"Is it selfish of me to want to turn back the chrono, to live the way we used to?" Bail whispered into Obi-Wan's ear.
Obi-Wan didn't reply; he felt it was self-evident.
"I remember when I first saw you. You were on Alderaan with Qui-Gon and Jorus." There was nothing in the galaxy Obi-Wan wanted more but to let Bail's reminiscences paint a picture of yesterday in Obi-Wan's mind. "I think you were only about sixteen, but you were already a head-turner. And so solemn, so earnest." It would have been wonderful to let Bail remember their past except all it did was remind Obi-Wan of what he'd lost. "It wasn't until later, when I was on Coruscant as an aide to my father's office that I discovered your playful side. Do you remember?"
Incapable of speech, Obi-Wan managed to nod slightly. He both wanted and dreaded the soft words pouring out of Bail.
"It seemed like there was never a time when you were available, or around -- every time I saw you, you were with someone else. Then I married and became the Viceroy and everything speeded up. There was always something to do, something that needed attention. And now it's all gone." Bail choked and Obi-Wan held him tightly, taking as much comfort as he gave.
It was a long moment before Bail could continue speaking. When he did, his voice was even softer. "Hric has persuaded me to take a greater role in the Alliance, and I shall, because I cannot 'not do' something. That man... the one who styles himself 'emperor', he can't take any retribution against Alderaan; we're too important, too central. But if he does want to chastise us, then let it be against me, personally. Let me be the target for his ire and let my people be."
Though it was still hot as an oven in the room, Obi-Wan shuddered, feeling as if someone had poured ice water down his back.
"When the twins grow up, he'll see some real resistance. They'll be the ones to destroy him, Obi-Wan. His empire will last only as long as they remain children. I swear it."
"Don't promise what you cannot deliver, Bail," Obi-Wan whispered.
Bail didn't answer.
The shadows on the wall, spread by the tiny window in the room, became darker and darker as the day waned. Finally, Obi-Wan stirred. "You should go back to your ship," he said. "I want you off this planet before nightfall, Bail. It's too much of a risk to you."
Bail lifted his head and looked down at Obi-Wan. His gaze was enigmatic. "It's a risk I'm willing to take, Ben." He reached out and smoothed Obi-Wan's sweaty hair away from his forehead. "And I'll take it again. I'll come back, as often as I can."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth -- he was going to say no, you can't, it's too dangerous, you're too important, I won't be here if you come so don't bother, just don't, no. But as he looked up into pain-filled dark eyes, he found he couldn't say the words sanity demanded. Instead, he said, "Send word to me, when... when she passes. I'll be there, if I can."
Studying Obi-Wan's face as if to read his fortune there, Bail nodded briefly. Gently, he leaned down and kissed Obi-Wan, sweetly and sadly, keeping his eyes open. Obi-Wan closed his, lest his eyes betray his pain, and he kept them closed as Bail moved away, sat up, got dressed and ready to leave. Before he left, Bail picked up Obi-Wan's hand and kissed the palm, but he didn't say anything else at all.
The suns set and the chill of the evening came on, and still Obi-Wan stayed stretched out on his too-hard bed with his eyes closed. He felt the roar of the freighter carrying Bail as it lifted away from Tatooine and back into safety and still, he didn't move.
Finally, as the night deepened and his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten much all day, he let out a sigh. "That was a huge mistake," he murmured, then sat up, turning to the edge of the bed. There was an ache in his backside he cherished.
"Why would you say that? You both needed comfort and the touch of someone from happier times. Why would that be a mistake?"
"He's too important." Obi-Wan pulled on his underwear and looked for his socks and boots. "I don't need that monster casting his eyes on Bail and seeing Leia there."
"I'm sure it'll be fine. He's a good man."
"Yes, he is. I wouldn't have trusted him with Leia, else." Obi-Wan rose and pulled his trousers up over his hips, tucking his under-tunic into them. "But his being a good man has no bearing on the fact that our... our doing this was a mistake."
"I still don't see it that way. You're all alone here, Obi-Wan. There is nothing wrong with taking solace when it is offered. Live in the moment."
The trembling in Obi-Wan's hands was purely due to hunger, he was certain of it. It took him a couple of tries to fasten his belt but finally he was completely dressed. It was time to go out and make sure he had his supplies ordered for his dawn trip back into exile -- he had much to do in the morning, and would rather concentrate on that. With another sigh, he let his arms go limp at his sides while he studied the toes of his boots. "I can't live in the moment because I cannot afford to, not now, not here. And it would do me no good since all my lovers die. Always. First Siri, then Garen, then... you." The dim light in the room was tinged with blue, of course. "Then Mace. Perhaps I should have taken Anakin as a lover... it might have saved the galaxy from such harm had I done so." He chuckled briefly, bitterly. "Now there's Bail with me, and I wonder... how long before he dies? How long before I'm left alone again? Can you answer that, Qui-Gon? Do you know?"
Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's silence with him as walked out into another burning night, alone.
end