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Nature Boy

by Jane Sehrn-Ta

Title -- Nature Boy.
Author -- Jane Sehrn-Ta (jane.sehrnta at googlemail dot com).
Archive -- Yes to Master Apprentice and my livejournal only.
Category -- Alternate-Universe, Qui/Dooku, Chan, First-Time.
Rating -- Adult.
Summary -- Long before Qui-Gon Jinn found himself in a rather unusual situation in "Darkness Falls", he was a wayward Padawan under the tutelage of the unorthodox Jedi, Count Tyran Dooku.
Feedback -- Is always greatly valued.
Disclaimer -- The Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd. This tale was written for the joy of it by a grateful fan that makes no money from it.
Dedication -- This story is a birthday gift for my feathered partner-in-crime, Little Owl, who wanted to hear the story of Count Dooku's efforts to teach Qui-Gon all about the Living Force through touch, with the assistance of some fine Serenni wine. Thank you, my precious friend, for all the laughter and the support.
Notes -- This can be read as a stand-alone story. Epilogue One and Epilogue Two are provided as lead in to later events in my work-in-progress, "Darkness Falls". // // indicates telepathy.

Count Tyran Dooku leaned back in his armchair and swirled the dark, rose-coloured liquid around his glass. He focussed his mind on the subtly sweet, woody aroma, before taking another sip of his wine. He sensed the approach of his Padawan in the corridor outside and allowed himself a small smile, deliberately waving for the glowers in the common room to dim as he increased his shielding, allowing his presence to fade into the background of the room.

Moments later, Qui-Gon Jinn slunk into the room, his shoulders sagged, as he hung up his cloak and waved for the glowers to increase. He frowned when they did not. He turned around and startled at seeing his Master watching him from the shadows.

"Forgive me, Master," Qui-Gon sketched out a quick bow. "I didn't sense you there… I didn't realize you were medita…" Then he paused and frowned again.

Dooku sensed Qui-Gon's subtle probe at his shielding and allowed himself an inward smile, which only increased as his Padawan's eyes, now darkened in the dim light of the glowers, settled on the glass in his hand. He watched the confusion increase on Qui-Gon's face, the frustration of the day dimming, as his Padawan tried to comprehend this new turn of events. "How did your aerial class go today, Padawan?" he asked, knowing all too well the answer, even before Qui-Gon's frustration spilled over into his aura again.

"Not good, Master," Qui-Gon mumbled, shooting a glance at the fresher. "Could I take a shower?"

"That can wait," Dooku rumbled steadily. "Join me." He gestured to the couch just beside his armchair; smiling inwardly as Qui-Gon's eyes settled on the mate to his wineglass, sitting on the table before the couch.

Qui-Gon obeyed, moving over and taking the proffered seat slowly, although sitting close to the edge, his long limbs suddenly like awkward projections of his body as he fidgeted there.

Dooku indicated the glass, as though excusing his normally observant Padawan's oversight.

"Are we going to discuss poisons again, Master?" Qui-Gon asked politely, taking up the delicate stemware, and looking very much afraid that it might shatter in his hand.

"In a sense," Dooku agreed, "although not in the context of wine. I have sensed your great difficulties of late, Padawan, your frustrations--"

"I'm sorry, Master," Qui-Gon said, his head dipping in shame.

"For what?" Dooku said casually, as though unaware of the turbulent emotions that had been pouring off his student for over two months.

"I've had difficulty with my lessons, Master," Qui-Gon admitted, trying to look up, but failing, looking every part his standard seventeen years and lacking the confidence of years of Jedi training.

"That is why we are here, my own," Dooku said silkily, in a tone that both made Qui-Gon tremble and tense. "Relax, Qui-Gon. It's not often we indulge… this is a wine from my home planet: a rare luxury. It would please me if you would enjoy it."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon replied, taking a sip and looking very much the insecure youth. "It's very nice," he mumbled.

"Nice?" Dooku asked, his dark brown eyes glowing with amusement. "Were I your host in the course of a mission, Qui-Gon, I should be offended by the Jedi."

Qui-Gon fidgeted again, pausing to swirl the wine around his glass and breathe in its aroma, before taking a more considered sip, allowing the wine to wash over his palate. "There's a delightful sweetness to it, and a hint of the cask in the finish… I can almost imagine a warm summer afternoon at the vineyard."

"Indeed," Dooku said, indicating for him to take another sip. "Very good, Qui-Gon. What does it make you feel?"

Qui-Gon straightened again, no longer trying to shield the confusion of his thoughts. "Feel, Master?"

Dooku changed tack quickly. "Physical sensations, Padawan. How does it feel in your mouth? As it passes down your throat? When it settles in your stomach?"

"Ummm…" Qui-Gon took another sip and considered his Master's request, replying with eyes closed. "It's warm, Master. It's like the warmth of that summer afternoon is glowing inside me." He looked up self-consciously, relaxing perceptibly at the look of approval on his Master's face.

"Very good," Dooku continued, gesturing for him to take another sip. "It was in my seventeenth year I spent some time in a Serenni vineyard," he considered. "I was called home to help prepare my cousin to assume stewardship of Serenno in my stead."

"Yes, Master."

"I remember that sunny afternoon well. It did warm me from the inside, as you describe. I was introduced to all aspects of the winemaking process: picking the grapes, crushing the juice from them, balancing the acid levels, storing them in the casks, walking through the cool rooms, and then enjoying the products of seasons' past in that afternoon sun. Can you imagine what it was like to feel the grapes being crushed beneath your toes? It was an event the whole household shared in. It was accompanied by much laughter, music and singing. Can you imagine, Qui-Gon?"

"No, Master," Qui-Gon said, his voice somewhat stilted, as though his mouth had gone dry. "I cannot."

"When I tell you to visualize what it looks like… feels like… to perform a three-turn aerial with a twist, can you do it?"

"No, Master," Qui-Gon's voice was sullen. "I can't. That is why Master Yoda tells me I fail with my aerial work."

"It is no easy task," Dooku said soothingly, urging his student to take another sip, before topping their glasses up again, "but it can be done. In the same way, that you can feel that warmth in your belly," and he deliberately modulated his tone so that his words indeed corresponded to a rush of warmth through his Padawan's insides, so too, can you imagine the feel of air… something invisible to others, as it becomes real and tangible in the Force."

"Master, I--" Qui-Gon began to rise from his chair.

"Sit down, Qui-Gon," Dooku said. "I will not see you fail, because you respond differently to the Force than all the others that are churned through what the Temple calls a training program."

Qui-Gon did sink back in his chair, looking slightly shocked by the somewhat heretical words coming from his Master's lips.

"Do you trust me, Qui-Gon?" Dooku asked, focusing his gaze upon his student.

"Of course, Master," Qui-Gon replied, his voice trembling.

"Then believe me that you will not fail, Padawan."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon replied, his tone betraying his doubt.

"If you trust me, Padawan, you will go into my room… Undress…" Seeing the scandalized look on Qui-Gon's face, he added, "You may remain in your sleep-shorts if you will feel more comfortable. Lie on the bed, and put on the blindfold that is waiting there."

"Master…?"

"We are entering a new phase of your training, Qui-Gon. This is strictly experimental. You shall understand why as we begin. You will also understand why it is better not to speak of this beyond our quarters."

"The Code states…"

"I know full well what the Code states, Padawan," Dooku said with a strict tone. "Unless you question my wisdom, you will do as I ask."

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon put down his drink and stood up, moving as though dazed into his Master's room.

Dooku smiled to himself at the turmoil he sensed flowing from his Padawan as he took a final sip from his own glass and listened to the soft sounds of clothes being discarded, and then the rustle of skin against sheets as he imagined Qui-Gon's long, lanky body stretching out and the tentative scrabble to secure the silken blindfold across his eyes. It was then that he stood up, walked to the door, and saw everything as he had imagined it, down to the cream-coloured sleep-shorts that Qui-Gon wore.

"Master?" Qui-Gon inquired uncertainly.

"Very good, Qui-Gon," Dooku murmured. "I will be sitting over here, in this chair near the door. If at any time, you are concerned, you may tell me so, and we will stop. This is a different form of visualization to that you are used to, but I think you will find it very effective. I think you will find it helps you to master those skills with which you are having difficulty."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon's voice seemed stronger, tinged with hope and trust. Moments later, however, he gasped as he felt invisible Force restraints claim possession of his wrists and ankles. "Master?"

"Trust me, Qui-Gon," Dooku persisted, his deep voice more hypnotic than ever. "Remember, you may tell me to stop at anytime. The goal of this exercise is to concentrate on becoming aware of physical sensation... to receive clues about the Force from your environment." He took the silence as assent and settled himself comfortably in the chair beside the door. "You are standing, not in a training salle, but on a hillside near the cliff tops… do you remember my villa on Serenno… that time we walked by the Flying Cliffs?"

"Yes, Master."

"It's late in the day… there is still some sun, but there is also a light breeze along the cliff tops." He paused and watched as the corresponding surge of warmth he sent across Qui-Gon's body took effect, and then the soft brush of air, mimicking the gusts of the breeze. He saw Qui-Gon smile at the effect. "You are standing in the grass. You feel the grass and earth against your bare feet. Do you feel it, Qui-Gon?" He simulated the cool pressure against Qui-Gon's feet, smiling as Qui-Gon's toes wriggled slightly.

"Yes…" Qui-Gon's voice came as if from a great distance.

"So, you are in contact with the ground, feet bare, the sun warming your skin and a light breeze caressing you…" Dooku paused, aware of the hypnotic, sensual aspect of his voice. "You are alone, so it's quite safe. You are naked…" he paused again, seeing the visible interest stirring at Qui-Gon's clothed groin, but didn't comment on it. "You are comfortable. It is freeing, to not be constrained by the heavy cloth of your tunics and leggings. You can simply become one with the elements surrounding you…" He dropped his voice to a husky whisper. "What do you feel?"

Qui-Gon's voice was also softly conspiratorial as he replied. "It's so warm…" His voice almost faded to a soft moan. "The breeze feels so good on my skin."

"And what emotions do you feel?"

"Emotions?" Qui-Gon frowned softly in the meditation.

"Never mind," Dooku continued softly. "Concentrate on the physical… on the touch of heat and wind on your body. You are free here. Nobody is around. You are permitted to enjoy the sensations."

"It's so good… I feel like I can fly…"

"You can, Padawan," Dooku continued softly. "Imagine what it would be like to just hover above the ground… still feeling the sun and the breeze… but leaving the ground behind…" Corresponding to his words, he removed the sense of solidity from underneath Qui-Gon's feet and heard the soft gasp of wonder from his student. "You become one with the air, my Padawan. You can feel the currents of air, drifting and eddying along the cliff… you can float with them." He carefully levitated Qui-Gon's body from the bed, and heard the accompanying flutter of breath, felt the mixture of awe tinged with fear. "You are safe," he repeated. "You are one with the breeze over the hilltop. What do you feel?"

"I feel a flutter in my stomach. It feels good. I'm flying, Master."

"You are, Qui-Gon. You're a master of the air, as much as the earth. You can fly, whenever you want, if you visualize this place. Are you ready to try the aerial?"

"No! …No," Qui-Gon stammered, and Dooku firmed his support of Qui-Gon's body through the Force.

"It's all right, Padawan," he soothed gently. "We don't have to do that today. Keep experiencing what it feels like to be part of the air, a part of the Force… the way you are meant to be, my own. At one with the Living Force."

Qui-Gon's features smoothed as he settled into the meditation again.

After some time had passed in silence, Dooku spoke softly. "It's time to come back to ground, but remember, you can recapture this feeling whenever you wish… you can remember what it's like to really fly." So saying, he brought Qui-Gon back to rest on the sheets, restoring the sensation of the cool earth at his feet. "Come back to consciousness, bringing that feeling of peace with you, knowing that you can fly, whenever you want to."

Qui-Gon sighed and stirred on the bed, finding his limbs free and slowly pulling the blindfold away, opening his eyes. At the same moment, he recognized the arousal pooled at his groin and closed his eyes again, preparing to release the pressure as he had been trained.

"No," Dooku interrupted softly. "Don't do that."

Qui-Gon's eyes opened again and he looked questioningly at his Master, his cheeks flushing.

"Sit up, Padawan."

Qui-Gon obeyed, his hands drifting down to fold and rest on his lap.

"The response of your body is a natural one," Dooku continued, professionally ignoring Qui-Gon's embarrassment. "I know the Code dictates that we must control such responses, but I put it to you now, as the intelligent young man you are… do you think we were given bodies that react so deliciously to the senses, as you have found out today, only to ruthlessly destroy those reactions? In the name of the Code, we know that there are times and places when we must do so, but here, in the sanctuary of our room, between missions and between classes, there are no dangers. There is no reason to deny that reaction."

Qui-Gon looked at him, clearly torn between the heretical nature of his Master's words and the desire to continue to explore the sensation that had been stirred in him.

"You may have your shower now, Padawan," Dooku said. "Take your time. Enjoy the feelings."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon nodded, slipping down from the bed and moving to leave the room. However, he hesitated beside Dooku's chair and dropped down on one knee, looking up at his Master. "Thank you, Master."

"You are most welcome, Padawan," Dooku replied, lightly brushing his thumb across Qui-Gon's lips.

Qui-Gon trembled slightly, before standing and hurrying from the room.

Dooku smiled to himself as he heard the sounds of Qui-Gon entering the fresher and starting up the shower. Take your time, he repeated in his mind.

The following day, Dooku did not bother to disguise his presence as Qui-Gon returned from his aerial class. He put aside his datapad, and met Qui-Gon's eyes across the dimly lit room. Qui-Gon hesitated and then bowed, as though entering a long-established ritual, before crossing to sit on the couch beside his Master's armchair.

Although the frustration surrounding Qui-Gon was palpable, there was something else glowing dimly in his eyes.

"How was your class, today, Padawan?" Dooku asked, gesturing for Qui-Gon to take up the wineglass, as he took a sip from his own.

"Master Yoda said my focus was a little better. But I… I still fell…"

"This will take time, but I know you will be able to do it," Dooku said as Qui-Gon sipped at his wine also.

"This is different, Master…" Qui-Gon said, regarding the pale wine in his glass. "It's cool and fresh… more like the breeze along the cliff."

"Indeed," Dooku replied, nodding as if receiving a great compliment. "Think about how that feels, relax, let it cool you. You worked hard today."

Qui-Gon relaxed back into the couch and closed his eyes as he sipped, quickly becoming accustomed to the comfortable silence between them.

Dooku leaned forward to fill Qui-Gon's glass again, before drawing back in his armchair and enjoying the bouquet from his own glass. He felt a quiet curiosity grow across the bond between them, which seemed to be thrumming with life. However, he said nothing until Qui-Gon had drained his glass a second time. "Let's try the meditation again, Padawan."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon said, inexpertly hiding his enthusiasm as he stood almost immediately, swaying briefly before moving to the bedroom, and preparing as before.

Dooku came to the door and found his student arrayed again on the bed in his sleep-shorts, and took the seat by the door. "Let's begin," he murmured softly, noticing with pleasure that Qui-Gon did not comment nor resist as he secured his Padawan's limbs through the Force again. "Let's return to the Flying Cliffs…"

The lessons continued in like fashion over the next week, but Qui-Gon showed little improvement. He seemed unable to fully connect with the concepts that Dooku was trying to impart. As he returned from practice, the frustration in his aura was almost palpable in the Force between them.

"I still can't do it, Master," Qui-Gon said softly, hanging up his cloak and gliding to his place on the couch. "I can't do it."

"You will," Dooku assured him. He saw Qui-Gon glance questioningly at the smaller glass in his hand, even as the younger man picked up his own. He toasted Qui-Gon. "This is a dessert wine: it's more concentrated than the others we've tried this week."

Qui-Gon nodded, taking a tentative sip. Heat seemed to shoot through him and he closed his eyes, shielding his thoughts for a moment.

Noticing the fluctuation in his student's aura, Dooku continued conversationally. "Do you like it?"

"Very much, Master. It feels almost like a fire inside me."

"That's how you will feel when you are fully connected to the Force again, Qui-Gon," Dooku agreed. "When you reconnect intuitively to the Force as you were meant to be, through all your senses, it will be as if a fire is shining inside you."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment, his own disappointment showing. "How did this happen, Master? Why do the other Padawans master the aerial work, and I fail so badly?"

"You shall not fail," Dooku repeated. "When you were a child, Qui-Gon, before you were trained, do you remember what your experience of the Living Force was?"

Qui-Gon took a longer draught of his drink, not commenting as Dooku refilled his glass. "I could feel it when I touched things, Master. That's how I was chosen apparently. I would touch things and would act like I was hypnotized. I could hear the Force talking through my fingers. Apparently my parents thought I was possessed by a jinni, until the Jedi told them of my Force potential."

"A jinni?" Dooku asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Literally, it means, the spirit of one who is dead, returned to life."

"A rather ironic name, Padawan. So what changed when you arrived in Temple?"

"Over time, my instructors told me it was a weakness, to have to touch things to understand them in the Force. Master Yoda said I should be able to see them in my mind. He showed me how to do t-that."

"And what was your experience of the Force that way?" Dooku asked, smiling inwardly at the small slur in his student's voice.

"I could do it… it just didn't seem as strong… and over time… I forgot that it wasn't… until now." His eyes opened abruptly and he looked at Dooku. "I'm not supposed to feel things this way…" He moved to stand up.

"Sit down, Padawan!" Dooku said firmly, reinforcing his words with a subtle Force-push.

Qui-Gon fell back onto the couch, looking slightly stunned.

"Do you trust me, Padawan?"

"Yes, Master, of course… but the Code…"

"Forget the Code," Dooku said sacrilegiously. "Blind acceptance of the Code will not serve us here. Do you want to be the Jedi I know you can be?"

"More than anything, Master," Qui-Gon whispered.

"Then trust me. Beyond this sanctuary, when we are in the company of others, we will obey the Code as we have sworn to do. But here, my own, I am telling you that it will not serve you. Indeed, it will hinder you. Do you know why your age-mates can master the aerial work, and you cannot?"

"No, Master," Qui-Gon said miserably, taking another draught of his wine.

"This is no failing of yours, Qui-Gon. It is a failing of the Code. Those gifted in the Living Force are few and far between. One as strong as you are in the Living Force has not been seen in perhaps hundreds of years. As a child, you knew intuitively how to connect with it. You were then blinkered and restrained, and told to understand it like the others. In the case of aerial work, you no longer even have the contact of your boots on the floor. You have no reference for understanding it. That is why we are here, my own. That is why I will not rest until I see you become the Jedi you were meant to be. You are not a failure. You shall not fail, if you trust me."

"I trust you, Master," Qui-Gon whispered.

"Good." Dooku smiled at last. "Finish your drink, it will help relax you."

When he had drained his glass, Qui-Gon got to his feet carefully and moved to Dooku's bedroom. He paused in the doorway and looked back for a moment, before committing himself and crossing the threshold.

When Dooku joined him a minute later, Qui-Gon was already stretched out on the bed, blindfolded, his mind already drifting away toward a visualization of the Flying Cliffs.

Dooku took a seat on the edge of the bed, with no obvious reaction from Qui-Gon, as he began to describe the environment around them. "There is a storm out at sea, Qui-Gon… can you sense it?"

Qui-Gon shivered, and a small smile passed over his lips. "I feel it, Master. The air, it feels almost electric."

"The air possesses the energy you need to not only fly, but to do all the things you want to do, Qui." With a small gesture, he lifted Qui-Gon's body from the bed, slowly turning it over, so that Qui-Gon floated, facing the 'ground' in his meditation. "How do you feel?"

"I feel light… I feel the air flowing around me… through me…" Qui-Gon shivered again.

"Do you want to try the aerial?" Dooku ventured softly.

"Yes… yes… I want to." A frown fell across Qui-Gon's face. "But I can't move…" As he spoke the words, it seemed that the invisible bonds securing him were eased. "Where are you, Master?"

"I am right here… beside you. You can do this."

"Master… help me," an edge of frustration and fear tinged Qui-Gon's voice.

"How can I help you?" Dooku asked. "I'm here."

"Please… touch me," Qui-Gon whispered, extending the fingers of his right hand. He gasped as he felt his Master's fingers brush against his own.

Dooku was momentarily stunned by the energy pouring back towards him, through his own body and down to ground. In his mind's eye, the bond with his student flared brightly, rich green and indigo ribbons streaming together, and he could see Qui-Gon as his Padawan saw himself, floating metres above the grassed slopes of the cliff top. Recovering, he asked again. "Are you ready?"

"Yes…" Before Dooku could assist, Qui-Gon launched into the aerial, performing it within his meditation, as his body rolled three times and twisted above the bed, ending up facing the ceiling. His fingers were locked once more around Dooku's outstretched ones.

"That was perfect, Qui-Gon. You showed great control. You are beautiful when you fly."

"Really, Master?" Qui-Gon asked without pride.

"Really. You are magnificent, Qui… you became one with the Force. How do you feel?"

"I feel peaceful, Master," he murmured, and the serene smile on his face echoed his words.

"Excellent. It's time to come back to ground knowing that, in time, you will do aerials like any one of your age-mates. All you need to do is to remember what these feelings -- these sensations -- are like and one day soon, you will do it."

Qui-Gon gasped softly as he settled back to the surface of the bed, reconnecting with his surroundings. "Thank you, Master," he whispered. He became aware of his own arousal, which seemed more pronounced in the proximity of his Master, their fingers still locked. He released his grasp, yet didn't seem panicked by the fact that he was still immobilized on the bed. "Master?"

"Magnificent," Dooku murmured, almost to himself, as he moved up to kneel on the bed. The rough caress of the fabric of his tunics against bare skin sent a shiver through Qui-Gon's body, as he leaned close to Qui-Gon's face.

Qui-Gon's breath caught and his lips fell open as Dooku's mouth, sweetened with the wine, closed over his. For a moment, he pulled against the invisible bonds holding him to the bed and then appeared to give himself to the overload of sensation washing through his body. He looked up into Dooku's face as the blindfold was pulled away, and Dooku wondered whether his dark eyes betrayed the same passion he saw in Qui-Gon's.

"I've been wondering," Dooku continued, "this past week… what you think of, after our meditations… when you have your shower…"

Qui-Gon's throat tightened for a moment, his eyes smouldering deep blue in the dim light of the glowers. "I think of you, Master… of you… touching me." His throat constricted again. His voice was a whisper when he finally spoke. "I… I'd like you to teach me everything, Master."

Dooku replied solemnly, "It would be a pleasure, Padawan." Once more his lips covered Qui-Gon's, his tongue stroking inside the younger man's mouth.

Qui-Gon gasped into the kiss, his body surging up from the surface of the bed in vain, his limbs still held securely. He moaned as Dooku broke the contact between them once more. "Please, Master… let me touch you…"

Dooku allowed himself to smile as he ran his fingertips down Qui-Gon's body, ghosting against bare skin. "Not yet, my own. There is much you have yet to learn about receiving touch. We have done enough for today." His fingers traced ever so lightly against the swelling at Qui-Gon's groin, before pulling away. "Have your shower."

As Qui-Gon's body was released, he surged up from the bed, moving towards his Master, but froze as Dooku's voice stopped him.

"Do you trust me, Qui-Gon?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon replied. "Yes, I do."

"Then trust me, when I tell you there is much you and I need to learn about control, if we are to embark on this path. Listen to the wisdom of your Master. Have your shower, and then perform a clearing meditation before you go to sleep."

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon bowed quickly, colour touching his cheeks as he began to hurry from the room.

"Wait," Dooku said, resisting the urge to touch those cheeks with his fingers. "We are men, when we are alone like this, but we must remember our roles as Jedi also. Do you understand me, Padawan? Do you understand our need to learn control? This is a forbidden path we walk."

Qui-Gon nodded gravely. "I understand, Master."

"Good," Dooku smiled. "Enjoy your shower."

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon bowed and walked with deliberate calm toward the fresher.

Dooku settled back on the edge of his bed and sank into thought. Truth be told, he hadn't expected his assumptions about Qui-Gon's needs to be proved so spectacularly correct. The flood of energy between their joined hands only confirmed his realization that not only did Qui-Gon need the contact -- he needed it too. The Jedi Code permitted meaningless couplings to take the edge off fundamental biological needs, but it in no way condoned any relationship of depth and meaning. He had managed to reign in his own desires to insist to Qui-Gon on the need for control, but now realized that his words about the irrelevance of the Code were, to him, stunningly true. They were indeed embarking on a forbidden path, and it would take every bit of Jedi skill to conceal it.

There was guilt and there was longing. Both could lead to their undoing. He didn't need his Master to warn him more than once. The Jedi Code was clearly against attachments, and to be caught flouting the Code would mean the end of his current apprenticeship, and perhaps his career as a Jedi. He committed himself immediately to improving his demeanour, his gracefulness. He had grown into his height quite swiftly, and although he no longer tripped over his own limbs, he wanted to prove to his Master that he was capable of carrying off the intrigue. He began folding his arms inside his sleeves, whenever walking, or sitting. For some reason, this gave him a serene appearance, even though he might be digging his nails into his skin to control some inappropriate reaction from his body.

And there were many such reactions. He had always admired his Master's form: a man who had once towered over him, and who was now only a few inches taller. Master Dooku's hair and beard were a dark, lustrous brown, matched only by his eyes, whose imperious command had averted many a potential threat to the collapse of negotiations over the years they had worked together. Master Yoda had once said that he thought Master Dooku could settle a treaty with his gaze alone: something that Qui-Gon thought quite likely. However, he was not immune to the fact that despite this apparent respect, his Master, although only 32 years old, had been fighting Master Yoda for years.

The next day proved to be no exception. He returned from aerial practice -- he had progressed to making a single twist aerial without stumbling -- to find his Master in attendance at a late meeting of the Jedi Council, according to the message waiting for him on the data station. He showered himself professionally, not allowing himself to focus on the sensation of touch on his own body. By an unspoken agreement, he was aware that his lessons would be dictated by his Master's timetable. After showering, he dressed in a lightweight tunic and leggings, and prepared latemeal. He ate in silence, studied his datapads for the next day, and set aside his Master's meal on the warmer.

When his Master returned, he wordlessly helped his Master hang up his cloak and removed his boots. He didn't comment on the disquiet in his Master's aura, although he worried about it all the same. He chided himself for making that worry apparent, when Dooku finally seemed to notice him for the first time since his return.

"Do not fret, my own," he smiled, allowing himself to brush Qui-Gon's cheek with his fingers, before moving to his armchair to relax. "I've merely been having my usual arguments with Master Yoda about the Code."

Qui-Gon froze in the middle of fetching the meal for his Master.

"Qui-Gon," Dooku chided. "The little green troll would be more suspicious if I stopped arguing with him about the Code."

Qui-Gon gave into a smile as he handed his Master the plate and a fork. "I expect so, Master."

"Have you done your lessons?" Dooku asked, signalling for Qui-Gon to sit as he ate.

"Yes, Master. I was able to do a single twist aerial without stumbling today," he said without pride.

"Excellent, Padawan. I dare say you've earned a reward for your hard work."

Qui-Gon felt himself flushing inadvertently at the emphasis on the word 'reward'.

"Though we will have to do something about that. Perhaps that will be our next lesson."

Qui-Gon looked puzzled.

"Your blush, Padawan. As much as I find it becoming on you, it won't do for you to blush like that in front of other Jedi. Are you up to the challenge?"

"I think so, Master."

"You think so?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good," Dooku said. "Undress before me."

Qui-Gon hesitated, aware of the rush of blood not only to his cheeks, but also pooling at his groin.

"Do it."

Qui-Gon stood up and began to undress methodically, the epitome of a young Jedi Padawan, breathing carefully and folding each item of clothing as it was removed, aware of the avid gaze of the dark brown eyes that watched as each plane of his body was revealed.

Qui-Gon hesitated, before deliberately stepping out of his sleep-shorts, and folding them aside. Trying to control his heart rate and breathing, he straightened up, but was unable to meet his Master's eyes directly. His cock was semi-erect, due to his nervousness.

"You test us both, my own," Dooku murmured approvingly, as his gaze flickered over his Qui-Gon's body. "I wonder," he continued huskily, "whether the touch of my voice alone would be enough to make you come."

Qui-Gon's cock twitched with interest, as his erection revived. "You may try, Master," he challenged softly.

"Perhaps I should tell you more about the instruction I plan for you," Dooku said, putting his plate aside and focussing his gaze on Qui-Gon. "I am going to teach you complete control of your body and responses, my own. You will be a formidable Jedi. You will be able to have a mind-blowing orgasm, without making a sound or movement. You will learn to recite every word of that damnable Code with a serene expression, even as you come with me buried inside you."

Qui-Gon bit back a moan as his Master's words took effect, caressing his skin as surely and as lightly as his Master's fingers had done the previous night. He shuddered at the memory, and tried to still his reaction.

"When I am done with you, my own, you will be able to stand upright and straight-faced before the Council for a mission briefing, even though you are barely able to walk after a night of lovemaking and raw coupling."

Qui-Gon's fists tightened and his eyes closed, as he tried to calm his breathing.

"Look at me," Dooku commanded.

Qui-Gon's eyes shot open.

"I will have you, my magnificent Qui. Others may look at you and desire you, but I shall be the one to claim you: to have you, body, mind, and soul. Even though we may not be allowed to say a word…" Dooku resorted to their bond, his mind caressing Qui-Gon's as surely as his eyes caressed the body before him. //In this place, between us, I will hear you cry out your passion, begging for me to love you, to touch you … always… to touch you.//

//Master!// Qui-Gon moaned internally, unable to stop the shuddering of his body as his orgasm hit him, and he cupped his groin, capturing the flood of semen on his fingers.

Dooku smiled with satisfaction. //Very good, Padawan.//

//I'm sorry, Master.// Qui-Gon reached for his sleep shorts and used them to clean himself. In moments, Dooku was before him, lifting his chin and staring into his eyes.

//You showed great control, Padawan. You will only improve. Do not apologize for honouring me with your passion.//

//Master…// Qui-Gon moved to return the caress, but felt his hand being pushed away.

//Not yet, my own.// Dooku rewarded him with a tender kiss. //Meditate, and turn in. We shall continue our lessons tomorrow as usual.//

//Yes, Master.// Qui-Gon bowed and took up his clothes, forcing himself to slow his steps as he moved to the fresher to clean up. Once the door was closed behind him, he released an audible sigh, letting his body fold up as he slid to the floor, his arms around his knees.

He knew that this was skirting close to what Master Yoda called the Dark Side, because he wanted… he simply wanted, and as a Jedi he should have no wants. But he could no sooner stop those desires then to cut away the glorious rising of the Force in his body, pulsing with life and with magic as it once had. There was power rushing in with it too. He had to release that power, lest its residual be detected on his aura.

That's why Master wants me to do the clearing meditation, he told himself. I must clear myself of all need and want… He sighed. And tomorrow I will have to do it all over again…

This is a dream, he told himself, but he couldn't stop losing himself in the sensations. He was lying on his Master's bed, his body pinned down and his Master lay fully clothed atop his naked body. Somehow the sensation of the coarse fabric rubbing against his skin was as arousing as the imagined frenzy of their naked coupling. He kept his body still, biting his lip against making a noise, as his mind chanted some nonsensical mantra that consisted largely of the words 'yes', 'more', 'touch me', and 'Master'.

He awoke as his orgasm crested, finding himself face down on his sleep couch, his fist jammed against his mouth. The flood of stickiness beneath him indicated the extent of his body's betrayal. Oh Force… a wet dream! Had he made a sound? He started, as he realized that he was no longer alone in the darkness. He moved to sit up but was restrained by invisible hands of Force energy. //Master, I'm so sorry.//

//You are young,// Dooku's mental voice was accompanied by gentle amusement. //Do not be so unforgiving of yourself.//

//I don't want to let you down, Master.//

//You won't, my own. You were very quiet, even in your sleep… it only happened I was looking in on you that I knew. Quiet your mind.//

Qui-Gon lay still, reassured and relaxed by the light caress of his Master's hand along his back, finishing around the curve of his clothed flank.

//Do you mind that I looked within your dream?// Dooku asked.

//No… Master, please…//

//One day soon, we will find a time and a place… but for now… this must suffice.//

//Master… please… touch me.//

Dooku laughed softly. //You are as focussed in your waking thoughts, as you are in your dream state, my own.// He shifted his weight up onto the sleep couch, partly covering Qui-Gon's body with his own. He moved slightly, so that the fabric of his tunics brushed against Qui-Gon's skin, and held Qui-Gon's body against his own.

Qui-Gon moaned inwardly, trying to press up against his Master, despite the invisible bonds holding him to the sleep couch. He felt the flourishing of the bond between them… energy coursing through his body and opened himself to it. Moments later, his Master pulled away. He moaned audibly this time, and forced himself to stillness, hoping to redeem himself for his lack of control.

Dooku's mouth brushed against his ear, sucking the lobe into its warmth. //We can't do this now, my own, but if you trust me to find a way-//

Qui-Gon squeezed his eyes closed and nuzzled back into the contact. He groaned inwardly as he felt a light kiss against his shoulder, and he was left alone again. He drew his body back under his control, and lay in the darkness, awake, for a long time.

"Appreciate your rebellion, I do not!" Master Yoda stamped, rapping his gimer stick on the floor.

"As the source of his difficulties, I think you owe it to my Padawan to support this developmental leave!"

"Create difficulties where none exist, you do!" Yoda accused.

Qui-Gon fidgeted in the kitchen as he made the tea, not knowing whether to return with the cups or not. Both Jedi Masters had started softly enough, but now they were arguing. Taking a breath, Qui-Gon moved into the common room, placing out the cups and settling back on his heels beside the table, breathing steadily.

Dooku's head jerked around, not meeting Qui-Gon's eyes, but suddenly the fight went out of him as he took a seat, picking up the cup that Qui-Gon had set on the table nearest him. "It's a sad day when two Jedi Masters are reminded of the lesson of serenity by a Padawan."

Yoda harrumphed softly, but also stole a questioning look at Qui-Gon. "What think you, Padawan Jinn? I suppose that approve you do of your Master's plan?"

"It is not my place, Master," Qui-Gon said, his arms wrapped inside his sleeves, concealing the biting pressure of nails against his skin. "I wish to become a skilled Jedi, but…"

"Ahhh, your arrogance I sense in him!" Yoda crowed triumphantly.

"I believe he hasn't finished yet, Master Yoda," Dooku said, waving for Qui-Gon to continue.

Qui-Gon still hadn't met either Master's eyes, but continued quietly. "I want to do what the Council asks of me, and I will continue to work hard to improve whatever they decide."

"For Force sakes, Yoda," Dooku said, deliberately keeping his voice level. "It has become clear that Qui-Gon requires independent instruction, in order to keep up with his peers. The visualizations he has been practicing have improved his aerial work -- you said so yourself. I consider this work best done out of sight of his peers, so that Qui-Gon will suffer no further damaging humiliation."

"A Jedi cares not about humiliation," Yoda said smugly.

Qui-Gon sensed the annoyance radiating from his Master and brushed against his mind. //Master, don't fight.//

Dooku's irritation calmed, although he did not look at Qui-Gon.

"I see we are at an impasse. I am required on Serenno for the next eight weeks to instruct my cousin in handling my affairs. I have managed to identify a number of diplomatic missions that can be accomplished whilst I am in the region of the Serenni system. Yes, I can leave my Padawan behind, but you have seen his improvements. I am hoping that with the stimulus of some away missions, and some dedicated time to focus on helping him with his aerial work, he will become the Jedi he should be. I beg you to consider this. Forget all the conflicts between us, Master, and allow Qui-Gon the developmental leave that the Code allows. I ask you to help me to help Qui-Gon."

Yoda considered his words and the small Jedi Master drew into himself, closing his eyes as he did whenever he was viewing the threads of the future. He finally opened his eyes and sighed. "Very well," he replied. "Allow it I will, but on one condition. Report to me each week, both you and Padawan Jinn will."

"Yes, Master," Dooku nodded assent and waved absently toward Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon looked directly at him for the first time, and then at Master Yoda. "I will, Master Yoda," he agreed placidly.

"Attend to your studies," Yoda said dismissively.

Qui-Gon bowed and collected his datapads, moving into the solace of his small room. He deliberately sat on the floor, deciding that the attendant discomfort would keep him alert. He studied fruitlessly, before looking up as his door opened some minutes later.

Master Dooku smiled down at him. "Well done, Padawan."

"Do you really think I would be humiliated if I stayed in Temple, Master?"

"Qui-Gon," Dooku pulled him to his feet, and fixed him with an intense gaze. "Let us be quite clear. I will say what I must to get you away from here, but the poison is here, my own. I want us to spend these next months retraining you away from Yoda's doctrines."

"Retraining, Master? How can we hide such a thing from the Council?"

Dooku placed his hand against Qui-Gon's cheek, and Qui-Gon turned into the touch. The rightness of the sensation coursing through his skin overwhelmed him, and his Master said nothing as though reading Qui-Gon's thoughts.

"I trust you, Master," Qui-Gon murmured at last, his voice distant.

"Pack our things, Padawan. We'll leave before the troll has a vision telling him to stop us."

Qui-Gon descended the small staircase from his wing of Dooku's villa to the dining hall at the appointed time for latemeal. They had been on Serenno for two days already, but he had seen precious little of his Master in that time, apart from an introduction to his Master's cousin -- steward in his Master's place -- and the bare household staff that Dooku employed. During that brief introduction, Master Dooku had been confusingly abrupt. He continued with his physical practice and studies as much as he would have had they been on Coruscant.

Thus he was surprised when he entered the dining hall, to find it dimly lit, and also empty. There was a blindfold on the table, and a small datapad with a note. 'Put on the blindfold. Use your senses, Padawan, and you will find me.'

Qui-Gon hesitated, but finally obeyed, the blindfold sealing into place and effectively darkening his vision. He reached out through the Force, but sensed nothing of his Master's presence. He listened, and then took a steady breath, licking his lips lightly. There it was… as faint as the taste of poisons his Master had introduced him to on various missions, when assassins had thought to poison the food of Jedi ambassadors… there was a hint of the Serenni wine he had been introduced to about a tenday ago.

Using the Force to navigate the room, he moved slowly, pausing to confirm his direction from time to time. He contacted the cool plasteel of a wall, and let his fingertips run across it as he continued to step. The wall beneath his fingertips was interrupted twice by doorways, but he continued, sure now that he was on the right track. He froze, as the aroma flared briefly, and sure enough, his fingers quickly found a tiny smear of stickiness on the wall. He probed further, and the door panel responded to his touch. Once inside, he sensed the junction of the short corridor beyond into another, running left and right. The aroma of the wine overwhelmed the junction and he hesitated, uncertain of which way to turn. He dropped carefully to one knee, reaching out with the Force, but still finding nothing. But then, there was a tiny energy residual… contacted with his fingers on the floor. He explored further, imagining himself to look like someone scrabbling for something he had lost. There, another residual, and he committed himself to that direction… returning to his feet and coming to stand before another door. As the door opened, the overwhelming smell of the wine filled his nostrils.

//Well done, Padawan.// Dooku's mental voice touched his immediately.

Qui-Gon reached to remove the blindfold but felt his hands being stilled. Then there was a touch at his belt, undoing it. He pulled back. //Master?//

//We are alone. The staff have left for the night.//

Qui-Gon nodded, but felt the heat rising in his cheeks as the invisible hands deftly removed his belt and sash, beginning next to push the outer layer of his tunics from his shoulders. Suddenly, those hands ceased their activity.

//You are blushing, my own. Slow your breathing. Recite the Code fundamentals.//

Qui-Gon did as he was asked. //There is no emotion, there is peace.//

//There is emotion and there is peace.// Dooku replied.

//There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.//

//There is ignorance and there is knowledge -- the Council being a case in point.//

//Master!//

//Continue, Qui-Gon,// Dooku said firmly.

Qui-Gon had to remind himself to steady his breathing as his inner tunic was removed. He felt the brush of air against his skin and focussed on the mechanical sound of his own breath. //There is no passion, there is serenity.//

//There is serenity in passion, my own.//

//There is no death, there is the Force.//

//There is no death, there is only the Jedi Code.//

The last words hung in the air sacrilegiously, as they stood quietly.

"Now you are properly dressed for dinner, my own."

Qui-Gon gasped as suddenly a warm mouth covered his right nipple, and sucked hard. Instantly the sensation disappeared, and he heard Dooku's voice urging him.

//Recite it again, Padawan.//

//There is no emotion, there is peace.// Once more, that incredible warmth was there, teasing, licking, sucking, and it was all he could do not to moan again. The Code… right. //There is no knowledge -- ignorance…// His breath wavered, but he forced it to become level. //There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion…// A finger brushed against the erect peak of his other nipple as the tender assault continued. He bit his lip and took another deep, even breath, forbidding the shudder that threatened to wrack his body as a tongue trailed lightly across his chest. //There is no death…// This time the moan did break from between his lips as Dooku's mouth covered his other nipple, tongue flickering across it. He swiftly internalized the moan as the mouth pulled away from him.

//Continue,// Dooku said strictly.

Qui-Gon's hands curled tighter, as the mouth resumed laving his nipple and then sucked it into its warmth. //There is no death…// he took a deep breath as he was backed up against a wall. //There is only the Force.//

//Good… again.//

//There is no emotion,// Qui-Gon continued by rote, as his hands were pried open and locked against the surface of the wall. He caught his breath and continued as his Master's tongue began a leisurely downward exploration of the planes of his stomach: the waistband of his leggings inching lower as that tongue mapped out his abdomen, swirling lightly around his navel, before moving further down. The Jedi Code became a soft mantra to steady his breathing, as it always had, as fingers began to pry his leggings down further. //There is no passion… there is serenity.//

If his fingers could have curled into the plasteel they would have, as his erection was freed, and the whisper of his Master's beard stroked down along its length. A moan again broke from his lips, but he bit it back as the contact was broken… the hands moving from his hips, the sensation moving from his cock. He took another deep breath and continued. //There is no death, there is the Force.//

//Again.//

Qui-Gon began reciting the mantra again, tying his conscious thought and his breathing to it, as suddenly there was warmth and pressure teasing the head of his cock. He bit his lip harder, his fingers clutching the surface of the wall as the words ran through his mind. //There is no passion, there is serenity.// The warmth was enclosing him, a tongue flicking lightly against the underside of his cock, as his Master's hands clamped down hard upon his hips, nails almost breaking the skin. //There is no death…// He was coming hard, the words underlying the roar of the Force in his ears, and the sensation rushing through his groin. The distraction was enough to take his breath away, preventing another outward moan. The pressure continued, until the pulsing in his cock subsided, and the tongue gently bathed him until he was soft.

//Excellent control, Qui-Gon. You may relax now.//

Qui-Gon let out the softest sigh as his wrists were suddenly released from their invisible restraints.

//Join me for latemeal…//

Qui-Gon felt the blindfold being pulled away, and opened his eyes to see Dooku moving to sit at the small table laid out beside them. He pulled his leggings back over his hips, and moved shakily to take the seat his Master indicated. He looked questioningly at the large glass of wine his Master put before him.

"I am teaching you control," Dooku murmured, but don't think I would also deny myself the pleasure of hearing you cry out as you come. That will follow, my own."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and released another breath, before taking a sip of his wine.

"Please, eat… enjoy…" Dooku said magnanimously, gesturing at the covered dishes before them. At the gesture, the covers lifted and were set aside, and aromas wafted into the small dining room around them.

Qui-Gon looked for utensils, but swiftly followed his Master's lead, taking one of the sarrah leaf parcels in his fingers and biting into it, the sticky juice running down his chin. He captured it quickly with a napkin and met the pleased smile on his Master's face.

"Do not always think I shall encourage such sloppiness," Dooku said fondly. "But we shall enjoy ourselves a little too, while we can."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon replied, nibbling some more and licking at his fingers unconsciously. He continued to sip at his wine with Dooku's encouragement, noticing as his glass was refilled, and the warmth continued to spread through him. He was glad to be freed of the heavy layers of his tunics, as a comfortable lightness overtook him.

As the meal continued, Dooku began to feed him morsels, and he found himself lapping at the flavours, mixed as they were with the scents of the man he had worked so closely with for the past five years, yet had never allowed himself to think about. Aware of that changeable aspect of his Master, he nonetheless relaxed as the wine took effect, and without the use of a suitable adjunct, he was unable to neutralize it.

Finally, their meal was done and he stood, somewhat groggily, as his Master kissed him chastely on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Padawan," Dooku said. "Are you able to return to your room, unassisted?"

Qui-Gon took a moment to stabilize himself, and nodded, surprised at the abruptness of their goodnight.

"Good. We shall work together some more tomorrow."

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon bowed carefully and collected his tunics, not daring to look back as he made his way slowly back to the wing where his small suite was housed. Once there, he stripped off the remainder of his clothes, used the fresher and finally dimmed the glowers, falling down onto his small bed.

He awoke later, aware that he was no longer alone, his head still swimming with the wine. It couldn't have been much later, then. //Master?//

//This time, you may express your passion, my own.//

Qui-Gon leaned up, reaching for his Master, but sighed as he felt the now familiar Force restraints holding his wrists and ankles to the bed. He shuddered as fingers grazed his shoulder in the dim room, slipping down to play across his chest, drawing each nipple in turn to a firm peak. //Yes, Master, please…// He moaned as his Master once more covered his nipple with his mouth and those fingers began to move downwards, playing through the coarse hair at his groin, opening his legs and tracing around his balls lightly, teasing against his entrance so briefly he wasn't entirely sure it was just wishful thinking. He'd never imagined being taken in that way but now he wanted it.

As though reading his thoughts, Dooku murmured huskily. "Soon enough, my own. What do you feel?" Dooku asked, his fingers now playing along the length of Qui-Gon's erection, brushing over the crown before lightly stroking toward the base.

Qui-Gon's hips arched up as he thrust into his Master's hand. He wasn't sure he could articulate the energy that coursed through him, deciding that motion would speak for him. He arched again into the touch, his arousal rapidly cresting as Dooku teased the sensation from his body. He felt a tendril of warmth slowly invading him and gasped as that finger of energy began to stroke inside him, setting the tempo for the disrupted movement of his hips. As he thrust into his Master's hand, he found that if he pushed backward, he was impaled upon the persistent stimulation of the Force energy exploring his most intimate passage. His breath became ragged and he could sense the implicit approval from his Master as the stimulation mounted. The alcohol dulled his reactions, but he was glad for its side effect of prolonging the encounter. It was only as the sensation of being penetrated increased that he cried out, his orgasm hitting hard.

Sated, he moaned as his Master's fingers moved from completing him, tracing through the semen already cooling on his abdomen. He knew his Master had been deliberately tender, but he found himself wanting more… more sensation… more touch… to be breached not as a virgin, but as a man: to feel not that teasing touch of Force but to feel his Master's cock, swollen and hot, pumping him for all he was worth.

"Patience, Padawan," was Dooku's reply, his voice impossibly deeper and husky with his own arousal. Still fully clothed, he covered Qui-Gon's body with his own.

The scent of wine on his Master's breath overwhelmed Qui-Gon, filling his senses as a spike of fear and excitement competed for expression in his body.

Dooku drew back, holding his face in the dim light. "Why did you agree to come with me, Padawan?" he asked intently.

"… I don't know…" Qui-Gon gasped as his Master took his mouth with a savage kiss.

"Do you know what you do to my focus, Padawan?"

Qui-Gon felt the heat of his Master pressing back against him, and the corresponding surge in the Force between them, unable to truly distinguish the explosion of need screaming across their bond. "No."

"Why do something that goes against every trained instinct you have?"

"I don't know, Master. I don't know where this is going, but the Force wills it… I sense it," Qui-Gon gasped, trying to arch up against the body pressing down upon his, but finding himself pinned against the bed.

"I will it," Dooku continued. "I am a dangerous man, Qui-Gon. The Council knows it. Master Yoda knows it. Can it be that you do not know it? Do you not know the dark places I am taking you?"

Confusion swept through Qui-Gon. "Then, this is Darkness you are showing me?"

"Darkness," Dooku laughed softly. "Yes, the Council would have you believe that, Qui-Gon. What are you feeling now, Padawan?"

"I sense nothing Dark, Master. I feel at peace. I want…"

"Yes," Dooku murmured huskily. "Desire… forbidden by the Code. Can you not feel the danger in it? The loss of everything you've worked for, Qui-Gon. Can you risk it?"

"Master… you've shown me what I've been missing. This feels like the right path. Could I go back to how I was before, knowing that this way would be lost to me?"

"Could you, indeed, Qui-Gon? I brought us to this place, knowing that there is no return if we continue. We risk disgrace, expulsion… separation."

"Then you must teach me everything, Master, so I can help to avoid that. You spoke of being men, Master. Why can we not be both Jedi and men?"

"We can, my own. The question is, for how long?"

"For as long as the Force wills it, Master," Qui-Gon replied. In moments, his mouth was being claimed again, and he gave himself over to the heat of his Master's kiss. He moaned at the loss as his Master suddenly drew back, shifting from his body and standing beside the bed once more.

"Balance, in all things, my own," Dooku said softly. "Meditate on this. Tomorrow, after latemeal, come to my suite. I will be attending to matters on the south continent for the day."

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon sat up slowly as he was left alone once more. He went to the fresher, bathed quickly and dressed in his leggings, before settling on the floor once more. He chose the mantra deliberately, knowing that he would have to desensitize himself to the association with physical pleasure.

There is no emotion, there is serenity.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no death, there is the Force.

He then recalled his Master's version.

There is emotion, and there is serenity.
There is ignorance, and there is knowledge.
There is serenity in passion.
There is no death, there is the Jedi Code.

Meditating on both versions, he settled his mind and body and was able to rest.

The following evening, he reported to his Master's suite as commanded, freshly showered from a brisk sparring session with one of the training droids his Master kept in his fully appointed salle in the villa. He paused only for a moment as his Master nodded, directing him with his eyes towards the main bedroom.

"Leather?" he asked, pausing inside the door as he saw the leather ties bound to the four corners of the bed.

"A lesson in control, Qui-Gon." Dooku murmured, handing him a glass that his senses told him was the sweeter of the white Serenni wines he'd been introduced to. "Sit for a while… let us talk about the day."

Qui-Gon nodded, unable to fully quell the mixed excitement and shock bubbling through his system at the thought of being physically restrained, as he sat on the couch that his Master indicated, sipping at the wine as they looked out at the fading light stealing over the cliff tops. The glass was absorbent, showing no reflection of the glower-lit interior of the room: only revealing the night beyond.

They exchanged small talk for many minutes, before falling into silent contemplation of the faint streak of light on the horizon.

"We are due to report to Master Yoda soon," Dooku ventured, sipping at his wine. "What are you planning to say?"

"I will tell him that you are teaching me to use the Fundamental Mantra to ground myself in the face of all distractions in my environment. That once I have mastered that, you will instruct me in further aerial mantras, as your work with the Steward of Serenno allows."

Dooku smiled. "You've given this some thought, Padawan."

"I will tell no lies, but I will omit what truths are necessary. You have made me a Jedi, Master: I do not want to let you down."

"You won't, my own," Dooku murmured, running his fingers down Qui-Gon's cheek.

Qui-Gon turned to kiss the fingers, sighing as they were drawn away.

//Control, my own,// Dooku reminded him, nodding toward the bed. //Make no sound. We will resume your lessons.//

Qui-Gon nodded, taking a last sip of the wine at his Master's direction, before carefully folding his clothing aside, and walking across to the bed, splaying himself on its cool surface. Apprehension sent a spear of heat to his groin as his Master attended him, blindfolding him and then securing each of his limbs in turn with the leather ties.

//The leather is soft,// Dooku explained, as he secured each bond, his fingers stroking reassuringly down the inside of his student's forearms and calves as he progressed. //I want you to control your movement as much as possible, however. I am tying the knots in such a way that a struggle will leave marks, and those marks will mean the lesson will have to be repeated, until you learn it.//

Qui-Gon pressed his shoulders down into the bed, turning once more to the Fundamental Mantra as a meditation to focus his breathing and to still the reaction of his body.

//I will not harm you,// Dooku reminded him. //Trust me.//

//I trust you, Master.//

The first touches were firm, almost like those from a healer massaging an injury, and Qui-Gon was easily able to control his reactions to them, the mantra running like a thread through his consciousness. However, as his Master moved up onto the bed, fully clothed, straddling his hips, he nearly bucked at the raw sensation and bit his lip, certain that he'd already earned his first marks.

//Control, Padawan,// Dooku chided softly. //You may speak the mantra as loud as you wish in your mind.//

//Yes, Master.// He increased the strength of his mental voice, pouring his focus into the words as his Master shifted, still covering his groin as he leaned down to trail kisses down his body, starting at his left wrist, and running lightly along the underside of his arm. He partly jerked with surprise as his Master nuzzled in more firmly against his underarm, licking him there -- he hadn't expected it to feel so good.

//The mantra,// Dooku reminded him.

//There is no emotion, there is peace. There is…// As he repeated the words, he focussed his mind on the bond between them, seeing how in such a short time it had strengthened: the ribbons of rich green and indigo humming brightly together. //There is no passion, there is serenity… There is--// He gasped as a burst of icy sensation erupted on his chest, literally taking his breath away. As swiftly as the sensation began, it ended, leaving him gasping, trying to still his shuddering body.

Dooku hushed him and placed a hand over his mouth, waiting for him to settle. //The answer is 'ice', Padawan. I had some on hand. I hadn't intended to be so abrupt, but you were cheating.//

//Cheating?// Qui-Gon asked, still stunned.

//You were separating your mind from your body. That is not what we are here to achieve. I want you to be conscious of everything I am doing. The Fundamental Mantra is an anchor for you to stay connected to your body. Unlike the usual Jedi way, I want you to use it as such, not as a mere returning point from an altered state.//

//I'm sorry, Master,// Qui-Gon replied.

//Old habits, my own. Do not be harsh on yourself. It will take time to learn new ways. Are you tired; have you had enough?//

//No, Master, please… continue.//

Dooku's touch resumed, coaxing and soothing, before becoming light again. Once more, Qui-Gon felt the moist warmth against his underarm, and focussed on the sensation, pouring his energy into experiencing it, whilst trying not to react to it.

The energy appeared in his mind's eye, focussed where his Master touched him, the bands of colour weaving tighter, fusing, and exploding, and then everything faded to black.

Dooku examined Qui-Gon with dismay, still reeling from the explosion of energy within his own mind. He removed the blindfold and sat back, giving Qui-Gon space to recover.

Qui-Gon's eyes fluttered open abruptly. "What happened? … Sorry, I passed out."

"It is not your fault, my own. We have a problem I had hoped to delay."

"What problem?"

"It would seem a partner bond is spontaneously attempting to form between us."

Qui-Gon's mouth fell open in shock. He glanced meaningfully at the ties binding him, and Dooku released them with a gesture, fetching a bacta salve as Qui-Gon sat up, pooling a sheet across his lap.

"Please, let me," Dooku said, reaching for Qui-Gon's wrist and gently rubbing the salve into the red figure of eight surrounding it.

"You expected this to happen, Master?" Qui-Gon asked, ignoring the care with which his Master tended the marks on his limbs, as he considered the import of his Master's statement.

Dooku hesitated and put the salve aside. "When there are feelings… bilateral ones… a partner bond is a natural response. I expected that when I permitted you to actively become involved in touching, that such a thing might spontaneously occur. You blacked out because I sensed what was happening and snapped the connection as it began to form."

Qui-Gon sat in silence.

"Forgive me, Padawan. I promised you no harm."

"You did none," Qui-Gon dismissed his concern. "The Council would not permit a bond between us. We would be outcast."

Dooku nodded solemnly. "I see now, that I promised you something I could not possibly deliver, not if we are to remain Jedi."

Qui-Gon stood up and slipped on his leggings, and wrapped his inner tunic around himself, lightly binding it in place with his sash.

Dooku watched as his apprentice moved to the door set into the wall-length window, and stepped onto the balcony beyond. He followed hesitantly, joining Qui-Gon but leaving space between them as Qui-Gon drew into his thoughts. The familiar smell of salt filled his nostrils, and a brisk breeze rushed across the back face of the villa. The sounds of waves crashing on the rocks below punctuated the silence.

Qui-Gon finally cleared his throat and Dooku looked across to him. "So… the reason you wouldn't let me touch you is the possibility of this bond forming?"

Dooku nodded.

"Then you must teach me these lessons another way."

"You have a suggestion?" Dooku responded, intrigued by the deep blue of his Padawan's eyes, as they reflected the light of a glower just beyond the door.

"A Force-damper," Qui-Gon said conspiratorially, moving closer to Dooku. "You want me to focus on physicality. What better way than to reduce me to a physical being?"

"Prolonged Force deprivation would be a cruelty to you."

"It would only need to be for short periods when we are, of necessity, very close. And you could reward me for the sacrifice… Perhaps you could wear the collar sometimes, Master?"

Dooku erupted into a deep, appreciative laugh. "You indeed have much to teach your Master, my own." He bowed.

"So… you… do you have a Force-damper, Master?"

"Indeed, I do, Qui-Gon."

"Shall I fetch it?" Qui-Gon stepped closer.

Dooku looked into his Padawan's earnest face and smiled, feeling once more in control of his reactions. "I am still the Master here, my own. We must both learn control. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, then," Qui-Gon agreed, stepping back to increase the distance between them.

Dooku watched as his Padawan stood in his room the following night, examining the crystal-embedded Force-damping circlet lying on the bed.

Qui-Gon picked it up and traced his fingers over the decorative symbols etched into the silver around the small crystal segments. //An expensive one,// Qui-Gon remarked idly. //One wouldn't know its purpose unless one was quite Force sensitive.//

//Second thoughts, my own?// Dooku asked, watching him intently.

In answer, Qui-Gon moved across the room toward him, kneeling before him and placing the circlet in his Master's lap.

Dooku took up the damper, brushing aside the Padawan braid and sliding it around the long, lean length of Qui-Gon's neck. He heard the corresponding sigh as Qui-Gon's connection to the Force dimmed. "How does this make you feel, Qui-Gon?"

"Afraid, Master," Qui-Gon whispered, "… excited."

"Master your fear," Dooku murmured, running his fingers down Qui-Gon's torso and smiling at the way the young man's body shuddered. "You know that I care for you, my own. I shall not harm you."

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon's gaze turned inwards for a moment. //I can still sense you.//

//This damper permits the crystal concentration to be adjusted. Complete damping is unnecessary: there is enough interference to allow our lessons to progress.//

Qui-Gon closed his eyes as Dooku's fingers followed the line of the collar, tracing the groove of his collarbone and drifting across his shoulder. He turned toward the touch, took his Master's hand and brought the fingers to his lips.

Dooku closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the reciprocation of the contact between them. He finally drew his hand back and tugged gently at his Padawan's braid. "You distract me too easily, my own… Let's begin… I have some more experiments for you…"

Qui-Gon shivered lightly and climbed to his feet, returning to the bed. Stretching out, he watched as Dooku carefully bound the leather ties, the thread of the Fundamental Mantra already beginning to run through his mind. "There is no emotion," he whispered, "there is peace."

"Good, my own," Dooku said encouragingly, as he slipped the blindfold across Qui-Gon's eyes and climbed up onto the bed.

"There is no ignorance," Qui-Gon's voice hitched slightly as Dooku straddled his hips, but he continued strongly, "there is knowledge."

"Good," Dooku repeated softly, leaning down and beginning to tease Qui-Gon's nipples in turn with light strokes of his tongue.

"There is no passion, there is serenity." There was a quiver in Qui-Gon's voice as Dooku's tongue began to move lower. He took a stabilizing breath before continuing. "There is no death… there is the Force!" The last word was accompanied by a rapid exhale of air, as he forced himself to stillness.

Dooku chuckled, as his lips ghosted against Qui-Gon's erection. "Again," he prompted, smiling as his tongue flickered lightly over the crown, tasting the pre-come glistening there. He heard the answering sigh as Qui-Gon pressed his hips down into the mattress and began the mantra again.

Dooku watched the long fluid form moving in the depths of the swimming pool: ignorant of his presence due to his deliberate shielding. He watched as Qui-Gon cycled through the various aerial forms, repeating each one until his student was obviously satisfied, before progressing to the next. He passed the next ten minutes in this way, before drawing back as Qui-Gon broke the surface, pulling the breather from his mouth and the stabilizing belt from around his waist.

"Master!" Qui-Gon said joyfully, stroking across to the side of the pool. "You're back!"

"Indeed. May I ask what you have been up to, my industrious Padawan?"

"I've been practicing the aerial work in the water, Master. It's easier to think of the water as air." He looked mildly embarrassed at the analogy, but his features glowed as he clambered out of the pool, lacking some of the grace he had showed in the water put projecting strength and serenity as he took the towel from his Master. "How did the meetings with the Serenni Council go?"

"Very well, Padawan. I am satisfied that my cousin is running affairs satisfactorily here." He smiled at the mild dismay revealed on Qui-Gon's face and continued conspiratorially, "But there are many facets of the planet's stewardship that I will want to inspect personally before we return to Coruscant."

Qui-Gon's smile returned. "Should I dress, Master?"

"I trust that you remembered to report to Master Yoda this afternoon."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon nodded. "I sent him a holo of my aerial work."

"In the water?" Dooku asked in concern. "While I appreciate your creativity, Padawan, I'm not sure Master Yoda would."

"No, Master." He nodded toward the floor mat beside the pool. "May I?"

Dooku nodded, drawing to the side and watching as Qui-Gon discarded the towel, his swim-shorts clinging to his form as he drew back, closing his eyes and centering himself. He felt the ripples of power radiating from Qui-Gon as his student took three short steps and launched smoothly into a three-turn aerial, the twist coming slightly late and resulting in a shortfall on Qui-Gon's landing, but the youth recovered well enough to almost conceal the error.

Qui-Gon bowed self-consciously, clearly aware of the error, and awaited Dooku's critique.

"Well done!" Dooku said at last, recognizing the flush of his own pride and permitting himself to enjoy the feeling, before moving forward and clasping Qui-Gon's shoulders in his hands. The contact sent a rush of sensation through both of them. He stepped back to increase the distance, and bowed instead.

"I am proud of you, my own," he murmured. "You have shown the kind of ingenuity a Jedi should." Noticing the hesitation on Qui-Gon's face, he continued. "Yes, I know that to show pride is not acceptable for a Jedi."

"It wasn't that, Master," Qui-Gon said solemnly. "Although I wanted to be able to show your trust in me was not misplaced. I… I just realized that although what we do is against the Code… I know it to be right. I felt it… in the water… and then… in the air. I felt what it was like to be truly a part of the Force. Not just working at the edges of it. I felt like I did, when I first became aware of the Force. When I knew it wasn't a jinni, but was as real as the air and water and trees and rocks."

Dooku studied him intently, and Qui-Gon closed his eyes, laying open his shields and showing all his feelings to his Master, including the kernel of love that had burst open inside him. As his eyes raised and met Dooku's he barely contained the raw fire that crossed between them and speared right through him.

"Your Force presence has increased in a matter of weeks," Dooku murmured. "How we shall hide the Light shining through you, I don't know."

"It's rather ironic, isn't it, Master?" Qui-Gon said wryly. "In order to be the Jedi the Council wants me to be, I shall have to develop a sizeable collection of Force-damping crystals."

Dooku chuckled appreciatively and then said seriously. "This is what I want for you, Qui-Gon. This, and so much more. This is why it's important we work hard to conceal ourselves. Do you understand?"

"I do, Master… Are we to do more work tonight?"

"I think you've earned the reward of some recreation, my own. Bathe, and meet me for latemeal in my suite."

"Yes, Master… It's important to stay in the Moment… I sense that," Qui-Gon said prophetically as he bowed and retreated, collecting his tunics and disappearing into one of the fresher rooms attached to the pool.

Stay in the Moment, Dooku pondered as he lingered. For a moment, he wanted to obey his Padawan's maxim and follow him, but forced himself to turn away and make his way to his suite.

Dooku noticed the glimmer of the circlet around his Padawan's neck as Qui-Gon entered his suite and moved with a loping grace towards him, as though aware of the tumult of Dooku's thoughts. He stepped close and lightly ran Qui-Gon's braid through his fingers, leaning in to take a teasing kiss, before pulling away. "You may choose our refreshment this evening," he said expansively, nodding toward the sideboard.

Qui-Gon appeared to hold back a sigh and nodded, before moving across to the sideboard to examine the decanters there.

Dooku watched the measured way that Qui-Gon considered the choices, shifting his weight to one hip, removing the stoppers in turn and wafting the bottles before his nose, licking his lips to increase the sensation.

"This one," Qui-Gon announced.

"Serenni firewine?" Dooku laughed. "You've deceived me these last years, Qui-Gon: you do like to take risks."

"Calculated risks," Qui-Gon returned in a suggestive tone, turning to the sideboard and filling two large glasses before bringing them across and handing one to Dooku, settling on the couch beside him.

Qui-Gon took a sip of his drink experimentally, and then a longer draught.

"I should warn you, my own: the alcohol content of firewine is high. It will take effect quickly and dramatically."

"It's the perfect choice then, Master," Qui-Gon intimated, taking another long sip. "Master Yoda wanted to know why I didn't accompany you to the Serenni Council today."

"He asked the same of me," Dooku said, taking a sip of his firewine. "I explained that I had to forge some rather delicate contacts that I want you to make next week. I've found you a fine young woman to lose your virginity with."

Qui-Gon choked on his drink and met his Master's amused gaze indignantly. "Since when did this become part of our plan?"

"Since I decided we need a diversion, my own. On your return to Coruscant, being able to report to your age-mates that you have become sexually active with various females is the perfect cover."

"And why can't you be sexually active with those females, Master?"

"Unfortunately, Master Yoda knows of my preference for men… He would be nothing short of disbelieving of such a change of focus."

"I see. Can't I take a vow of celibacy?"

"You could," Dooku chuckled, "but the Council almost always suspects cheating on such vows. The other route will rouse less suspicion."

"Hmmm." Qui-Gon drained his glass of firewine. "Then it seems we have no time to waste." So saying, he straddled his Master's lap. He gasped as Dooku quickly took advantage of his depleted access to the Force, flipping him onto his back. "Always the Master," he protested weakly, as Dooku pinned him to the couch.

"Let's take this where it belongs," Dooku murmured, lightly brushing his lips against Qui-Gon's before drawing back.

"Yes," Qui-Gon gasped quickly, heat flooding through him. He got to his feet, and began to strip out of his tunics, stepping out of leggings and moving to the bed, where he stretched out… regarding his Master indolently.

"I believe you are in need of discipline, my own." Dooku said, aware of the response in his own body.

"I believe I am yours to control," Qui-Gon mimicked his tone, touching the collar before spreading his limbs out towards the ties.

"Indeed," Dooku murmured, binding Qui-Gon's wrists and ankles in turn, caressing each wrist and ankle lovingly, before securing the blindfold across Qui-Gon's eyes. He then began to remove his own tunics, and smiled as Qui-Gon's head swivelled toward the hush of the fabric as it fell to the floor.

//Master?//

Without preface, Dooku climbed onto the bed and covered Qui-Gon's body with his own. Qui-Gon groaned, his inhibitions freed by the wine. Dooku chose that moment to cover his mouth, their mingled breath heavy with firewine, as their tongues tasted each other. //Please, Master,// Qui-Gon begged, arching up against the heat radiating from the contact of his Master's arousal against his own.

//Do you want to do this?//

//Yes, Master. I want you to be the first.//

//It would be an honour, my own.// He kissed Qui-Gon tenderly, and then called the lubricant to his hand. Slicking his fingers thoroughly, he lightly stroked the fingers of one hand along the length of Qui-Gon's rapidly gorging erection, as he released the binding on Qui-Gon's ankles. "Draw your knees up," he murmured, placing a kiss to the inside of each of Qui-Gon's knees as Qui-Gon obeyed, before beginning to tease his finger at the entrance to the younger man's body.

Qui-Gon's hips bucked against the stimulation, and a moan left his lips as Dooku's finger penetrated him. He suddenly became withdrawn, biting his lip. "Master… should I be quiet?" he asked.

Dooku chuckled. "You are far too intoxicated for that, my own. Make whatever sounds please you."

"Good… because I don't think… I could…." His words trailed off as the finger exploring him withdrew and penetrated him again. He arched and moaned, and as Dooku's finger curled inside him, he howled softly. "Is that--?"

"Yes… that's your prostate," Dooku replied, smiling. "Do you like that?"

"Hmmm," Qui-Gon breathed, shuddering as it was stroked again. "Ouch!" He frowned at the light sting of the restraints upon his wrists.

Dooku lost no time in releasing the remaining ties. "Better?"

"Wonnerful." Qui-Gon slurred, reaching for him but flopping back as another finger filled him. "No… no more," he cried and Dooku stopped, pulling back immediately. "You…" Qui-Gon whispered. "You, inside me, Master, please… How?" He turned awkwardly to one side, as though seeking direction.

Dooku chuckled again. "Thank the Force you only had one glass of firewine. Here… like this, Qui… it will be easier for you," Dooku helped him to turn over, guiding a pillow under his hips. He caressed the younger man's back as he directed Qui-Gon's legs into a comfortable position.

"Now," Qui-Gon breathed, becoming still as his Master's body settled against his, moving instinctively with the rhythm of his Master's hips.

Dooku pulled back for a moment, taking more lubricant and stroking it onto his cock, before beginning to push forward, guiding himself into the tight passage. "Relax, my own, don't be afraid… I won't hurt you."

"Not afraid," Qui-Gon insisted stubbornly, "want you…"

"Breathe me in, my own… take me into you," Dooku used the Force to gently massage the resistant muscles, finally sensing the alcohol and his touch taking effect as he began to slide deeper inside. Soon, he was buried completely inside Qui-Gon. "All right?" he asked, placing a kiss to Qui-Gon's back.

"Yes, Master… Force, yes, more…"

Dooku obliged by setting a slow, steady rhythm with his hips, slowing at the first sign of tension in the body beneath his, and caressing Qui-Gon's hips and back until he felt the tension draining, and Qui-Gon's hips rising back to meet him. Soon, Qui-Gon's movements became more insistent, and the incoherent sounds of need increased the easy sensuality of their bodies moving together. He reached underneath his young lover, stimulating the length of Qui-Gon's cock. Moments later, Qui-Gon cried out as his orgasm crested. Dooku followed and collapsed lightly against Qui-Gon's back, tracing light kisses there.

Time passed before he finally drew back, turning Qui-Gon into his arms.

"Hmmm," Qui-Gon murmured happily, pressing into his Master's arms. "S'good", he added, wrapping himself around his Master's body.

Dooku smiled and pulled the young man protectively into his arms, running his hand through Qui-Gon's hair. "Rest now, my own."

"I can stay?"

"Yes." He kissed Qui-Gon's forehead and held him closer. "Stay."

Epilogue One

Twenty year-old Padawan Qui-Gon Jinn swept quietly into his Master's room and bowed, before taking his place on the floor. A headache was still throbbing in his temples and the base of his skull, but he tried to ignore it: certain that admitting to a headache was not a Jedi trait.

"Still in pain are you, Qui-Gon?"

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon replied in shame, bowing his head further.

"Terrible injuries you sustained on your last mission, Padawan: over a month with the healers you spent. Great damage to your memory, there was. Be not disappointed with yourself. Help you, I will, to relearn all you have forgotten."

"Thank you, Master."

"Meditated have you, on the news of Count Dooku's defection?"

Qui-Gon nodded, his expression betraying his confusion. "It was a shock, Master… to learn that he abandoned me while I was in the coma. But I have meditated as you asked, and have accepted that he had his own path to follow."

"Not always easy is the way of the Force," Yoda replied, nodding sagely. "Too difficult it was for one used to power and privilege. My goal it is, to make sure you become a fine Jedi."

"Thank you, Master. I will not let you down."

"Rest you will, and quiet your mind, Padawan. Meditate as I have shown you, and clear yourself of all pain and concern."

Qui-Gon nodded and bowed to excuse himself, getting to his feet and moving into his small room. Dimming the glowers, he stretched out on the bed, and let his mind drift as Master Yoda had taught him. Like the healers had said, he felt somewhat numb, affected by the injuries he'd sustained on his last mission and the associated damage to his memory. When he was ready, they had promised to help Master Yoda fill in the last few years of his history, including mission reports from his former Master. His thoughts drifted briefly to Master Dooku, the man they had shown him in a holoimage as being his Master. Who ever would have thought that Master Dooku would defect?

Focussing his eyes on the ceiling, he let the familiar words begin to unfold in his mind, as he began to drift beyond the pain of his physical body, letting his mind leave his body in search of the perfection of the Force, as Master Yoda had described it.

There is no emotion, there is serenity.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no death, there is the Force.

Epilogue Two

Count Tyran Dooku focussed his gaze on the shielded glare of the brown-grey planet beyond the viewport of the flyer, watching as the ship bearing his former Padawan left the surface. They had both come a long way in the twenty-three years since the near-fatal mission injury that had forced him to establish the partner bond with Qui-Gon they had spent three years concealing. The ease with which the bond had been established had been evident to the healers on their return, and after the Council's intense grilling of himself and examination of his still unconscious Padawan, they had found him guilty of violating the Code and had expelled him from the Order.

He thought back to their chance meeting on Telos, some ten years ago. Whilst trying to convince Crion, the King of Telos, to align his system with the Separatists, the King's son: a Jedi Padawan named Xanatos had unexpectedly shown up. The Padawan's Master had been none other than his former student, Qui-Gon. When he looked upon his former Padawan, there had been nothing but the faintest sign of recognition from the Jedi. Over the next three hours, he had taken the first chance since in some eighteen years to observe every nuance of Qui-Gon's behaviour first hand. He had been unable to get the Jedi Master alone, but on touching Qui-Gon's arm and experiencing the frosty but polite withdrawal of Qui-Gon from his touch, he knew that everything they had once shared was gone, forcibly extracted from his once bright Padawan. Qui-Gon's distrust of him had been palpable, and it was evident that the Jedi Master's mind had been poisoned against him.

Three years later, Xanatos fell to the Dark Side, confirming his suspicion that Xanatos' arrogance and selfishness would never have suited his requirements for a new apprentice. Thus when his spies had brought him word of the appearance of Qui-Gon and a Jedi Initiate on the harsh world of Bandomeer, he had followed swiftly.

It seemed that Qui-Gon's emotional shutdown had been complete, with his abandonment of a well-matched Padawan to the Agricorps. As one who had been destined to be Qui-Gon's Padawan, the abandoned youth would likely be a perfect choice. He watched Qui-Gon's flyer jump to hyperspace.

Down below on the surface, there was a young teenager, full of anger and despair: one who would be easily enticed by the promise of the bright future he had been denied by the Jedi, and particularly, Qui-Gon Jinn. He intended to take his time to observe the former Jedi Initiate for suitability, putting the responsibilities of the burgeoning Separatist movement temporarily from his mind.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he murmured, his dark eyes glittering as they turned upon Bandomeer's dreary surface. "I look forward to meeting you."