Master Apprentice
Archive
Of Rage and Love
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"His fate is uncertain," Qui-Gon said somewhat huffily, "not dangerous. The Council will decide Anakin's future...that should be enough for you. Now get on board."
**Oh, I'll get on board all right, _Master_!"** Obi-Wan thought as he strode away. **You say I'm ready to take the trials, but then you treat me like a child! Well, there's only one child here, isn't there? That little br-that little boy you found on Naboo. Your _Chosen One_! Well, you can take your Chosen One, Master, and go straight to ---**
Obi-Wan sighed as he shrugged off his robe and sank down onto the single bunk in the small cabin he'd been assigned. The bunk was narrow but big enough, since Qui-Gon would undoubtedly be spending the trip back to Naboo with Anakin, just as he had the one to Coruscant. **Might as well get used to being alone.** Elbows on knees, he buried his face in his hands. How had his life gone so wrong so quickly? He _knew_ he wasn't ready for his trials, was _certainly_ not ready to leave his Master, and knew Qui-Gon was only pushing him aside to make room for his new apprentice.
"Why, Master?" he asked aloud, his voice pitched low so that it would not carry beyond these thin metal walls, as if anyone would be listening. "Have I been such a disappointment? Have I failed you so badly that you are anxious to be rid of me?"
He wouldn't let the tears come. Not yet, at least, not while there was still the possibility, however slight, that Qui-Gon might still come to him to tell him it was all a mistake, to apologize for casting him aside in favor of the boy.
He longed for it to happen.
He didn't believe for a moment that it would.
He heard footsteps now, and voices; Queen Amadala's, Padme's, Jar Jar's, Anakin's - and Qui-Gon's. They were too far away to hear actual words, but he knew everyone was on board. Soon enough, he heard the engines start up, felt the hollowness in his ears as they lifted off. He waited in silence, more alone than he'd felt since he was twelve and on his way to Bandomeer. He had been rejected then by Qui-Gon, by the whole of the Jedi Order, and sentenced to a life in AgriCorps. Now, he'd been rejected again, this time to be thrust into a life for which he had trained but was still not prepared; a life of solitude, a life without Qui-Gon.
**Sith take him, then!** he thought angrily. **Let him send me away! He never wanted me in the first place, has never appreciated how hard I've worked or how much I cared for him! I've done everything he ever asked, passed every challenge he ever threw at me! I am worthy! But, you've never been able to see that, have you? Well, if you still can't, _Master_, then send me away, damn you, and be done with it!**
He dropped face down on the bed, the tears he had been holding back finally breaking free. They were tears of frustration, of anger, of grief. They were tears of heartbreak. He sobbed silently into his pillow, smothering the sounds lest anyone hear. Only a soft knock on the door brought his head up.
He reached out with the Force, and his brows drew together. With a thought, he locked the door.
"Go away, Master," he said, not caring about courtesy or the show of respect. What had any of that ever gotten him? "I'm very tired."
"Let me in, Padawan."
"I'm surprised you're not with the boy. I'm sure he has much more need of your company now than I do."
Through their link, he felt the anger his insolence caused, but he was beyond caring. "Let me in," his Master repeated, a warning growl very evident in his voice. Obi-Wan pulled the pillow over his head and tightened down his shields, not wanting to listen.
A second later, another sound reached him, muffled, but clearly the click of the lock being released. He sat up as Qui-Gon stormed into the room, anger darkening his face.
"How dare you lock me out, Padawan!"
Obi-Wan met his eyes challengingly, not even bothering to dry the wetness from his cheeks. "I won't be your Padawan much longer, will I?" he said with a shrug. "Either I'll pass my trials, or the Council will cast me out as they did when I was twelve, a failure and a disappointment to the Order."
"What in the nine Sith hells are you babbling about?" Qui-Gon snarled.
"Nothing, Master. Nothing you need to concern yourself with, at any rate." He scooted back against the wall, breaking eye contact, plucking at non-existent lint on the thin white blanket. "Was there something you needed?"
"Yes! I need my Padawan to quit behaving like a petulant child!"
That brought him to his feet. "Petulant child, am I? Then how is it that the revered Master Qui-Gon Jinn could recommend me to the Council for Knighthood?" He waved the question off with a sweep of one hand. "Never mind. I know the answer to that. Out with the old and useless, in with the new and chosen, right, Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon's countenance darkened dangerously. "You will not address me with such disrespect," he warned, his voice rumbling through the room and thrumming at Obi-Wan's nerves.
"Disrespect?" Obi-Wan echoed incredulously. He stepped forward until he and his Master were mere inches apart. "And what about your respect for me? Did you ever have any, I wonder? Or was I nothing more than something to do with your time, someone to keep the Council and Master Yoda off your back, until a worthy prospect came along?"
"You don't know what you're saying!"
"Oh, I know very well what I'm saying, _Master_. And, it's true, all of it, isn't it? Go on! Deny it, if you can!" Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed but he didn't respond. "Fine," Obi-Wan snapped, turning on his heel to collect his robe. "Then, if there's nothing more, _Master_, I'm going for a walk." He stepped past the bigger man, heading for the door. But, a strong hand on his arm caught him and spun him around.
"This conversation is not finished!" Qui-Gon said, looming over him menacingly.
"Oh, yes it is!" Obi-Wan jerked free and reached for the door release, only to hear the lock click into place. He jerked on it anyway, struggling to center himself enough to release it with the Force, as Qui-Gon had before. "Let me out!" he shouted when he was unsuccessful.
"Not until you listen to me!"
"I've been listening to you for half my life, Master! And where has it ever gotten me?" He tugged on the door again, needing to be away from here, away from his Master before he said something even worse. He already knew that there would be punishment, assuming, of course, that Qui-Gon could find the time.
Then, all thought fled as a rock-hard body shoved him face first against the metal door. His right arm was caught and twisted up behind his back, the grip as strong as steel. He struggled against it anyway. "Let go of me, damn it!" he demanded.
"Now," Qui-Gon said near his ear, "you will explain this nonsense you've been spouting!"
"Nonsense?" Obi-Wan repeated, outraged. He writhed against the strength holding him, to no avail. "Nonsense, Master? Is it nonsense to know when you're not good enough, to accept the truth? Is it nonsense to recognize rejection and your own inadequacies?"
"Inadequacies? What inadequacies?"
"Mine, Master! I've obviously failed miserably as a Padawan! Why else would you reject me for the first promising child to come along?"
Qui-Gon leaned more heavily against him, mashing Obi-Wan against the door, making his ribs creak with the pressure. "You were not rejected, you idiot!" he snarled.
Fresh anger gave him power, and Obi-Wan shoved himself away with every ounce of strength he owned, succeeded only in turning them both around, his arm still held infuriatingly tight. "Damn it, let go of me!"
Faster than thought, he was thrown to the floor. The impact was softened only slightly by a cushion of Force thrown out by Qui-Gon, but he still hit hard enough to drive all the air from his lungs, especially when the solid weight of his Master landed on top of him.
"Get off me!" he screamed, thrashing like a speared fish. Qui-Gon straddled his hips, sitting down on him firmly and pinning him to the ice cold floor. Obi-Wan reached out to the Force and surged upward, bracing on his free hand, knowing it was useless but doing it anyway. A hand between his shoulder blades quickly pressed him back down. Then, his other wrist was seized. He struggled, snarling, but moments later, it, too, was locked behind his back.
"Now, Padawan," Qui-Gon snarled, his breath coming in harsh gasps. "You _will_ hear me out!"
"I have heard all you have to say, Master!" Obi-Wan shouted back at him, twisting and writhing despite the pain in his arms.
He felt Qui-Gon's grip shift, felt his wrists drawn impossibly higher and held there in one huge hand. Pain shot through his shoulders as the strength of the arm locks threatened to dislocate them. Then, he gasped as the small tail of hair on the back of his head was grabbed and pulled, yanking his head back painfully.
"Get this through your head," Qui-Gon snapped. "I. Did. Not. Reject. You."
"The hell you didn't!" Obi-Wan said, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm not ready for the Trials! You know that as well as I do! That boy is just a convenient way of dumping me!"
"That _boy_ has a name! It's Anakin! And he's taking this all much better than you are!"
Obi-Wan almost laughed at that. "Of course he is, Master! What has he lost, after all? A slave's life? Servitude? He's got what he always wanted; a chance to be a Jedi! That's all I ever wanted, too, you know. Or, do you? To be a Jedi and to somehow be good enough to make you proud! But I guess I've failed on both counts, haven't I?"
Qui-Gon's weight lifted off of him suddenly. But, before he could struggle free, Obi-Wan found himself flipped onto his back. Qui-Gon sat down on his hips again, hard, and pinned his wrists to the cold metal deck on either side of his body. "You _are_ a Jedi," he said, his intense blue gaze burning into his Padawan's. "And I've always been proud of you! Don't you know that?"
A small sound of denial erupted from the back of Obi-Wan's throat. "Proud? Why would I think that? For half my life, I've followed you. Obeyed your every command, catered to your every need. For what? A 'Well done, Padawan' here and a 'Not bad, Padawan' there? Well, those were too few and far between, Master! Most of the time I was only told how far I still had to go, how far off the mark I had fallen! You? Proud of me?" He shook his head, tearing his gaze away. "Only in my dreams, Master."
Qui-Gon leaned in close, trying to make eye contact again. "Listen to me, Obi-Wan, and listen to me well. Yes, I have always been proud of you. I've been tough on you, I know, but that was because I wanted to see you succeed, to become the fine Jedi Knight I've always known you could be. If I was stingy with my praise . . ."
"Stingy?" Obi-Wan yelped in disbelief. "Stingy is denying me a second serving of dessert or refusing me a new vid-game! You weren't stingy, Qui-Gon! You were cold! You were distant! Come on, admit it! You never wanted me as your Padawan!"
"Of course I did!"
"No, you didn't! And I can't for the life of me imagine why you kept me around for as long as you did!"
"I 'kept you around,' you hard-headed little whelp, because I love you!" Qui-Gon shouted. And almost before the last word was out, he leaned down and captured Obi-Wan's mouth in a searing kiss.
Obi-Wan was too shocked to struggle, too shocked to react at all as a strong tongue forced its way past his lips, pumping in and out of his mouth and stroking everything within reach. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. Unable to maintain them under his Master's unexpected assault, Obi-Wan's mental shields faltered and all but disappeared. He gasped as images from his Master's mind flooded across their link; himself: face down and naked on the floor as he was taken from behind; Qui-Gon's mouth hot and wet as it enveloped his throbbing cock, sucking until he screamed out his pleasure; a rock-hard erection, impaling him and thrusting hard and fast.
It was shocking, it was unbelievable, and it was the most wonderful thing he could possibly imagine.
Sense began to return, and Obi-Wan's tongue met his Master's, clashing with it in a war of strength, of conquest. He gasped as his hands were drawn over his head, pinned there in one of Qui-Gon's, freeing the other to intertwine with his hair, holding him still as his mouth was plundered. He heard strange sounds - gasps and grunts and growls of pleasure - and wasn't sure which of them was making them. Both, maybe. All his blood rushed southward, leaving him dazed and dizzy, and his cock filled and strained against his leggings and his Master's weight.
// Please! // he sent frantically through their bond, not knowing what he was asking for, only that he needed _something_.
A fierce, frightening chuckle was his only answer, and it sent a shiver of desire through him. His mouth was released, Qui-Gon moving instead to the side of his neck. He yelped and bucked as teeth closed on tender skin. "Master!" he said, his voice coming out as little more than a squeak.
With a low growl, Qui-Gon raised his head, his blue eyes gone nearly black with need. He stared down into Obi-Wan's face and lowered his own shields.
Obi-Wan nearly fainted as waves and waves of love and longing rolled through his mind, all of them coming from the man still pinning him to the floor. "How - when - " he stammered, not knowing what he was trying to ask, but desperate to understand.
"How long have I known that I loved you?" Qui-Gon asked, his breath sweeping hot across Obi-Wan's face. "For years," he said. "But, I've fought it. Oh, how I've fought it."
"But, why?"
"How could I train you and desire you at the same time?" He sat up, drawing one of Obi-Wan's hands to his mouth, rubbing the backs of the younger man fingers against the coarseness of his beard. "And, desire you I do. Too much."
He took his Padawan's index finger into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and then sucking hard. Obi-Wan felt his cock jerk, already rock hard and aching, and he tried to thrust his hips upward, needing to be touched. "All this time," he managed to grate out, "all this time, you loved me? You let me believe I was unworthy of your time, and yet you loved me?"
It was too impossible to believe, and yet he had to believe it. He could _feel_ it, a love so deep and abiding that its touch was as physical as the weight pinning his hips, the throbbing in his cock, the dampness on his finger when Qui-Gon finally released it.
"Forgive an old fool, beloved," Qui-Gon said. "I never meant to make you feel unworthy. Perhaps I was overcompensating, being too careful, too strict. But, I knew no other way to handle it, no other way to maintain a proper Master/Padawan relationship between us."
Obi-Wan pulled his other wrist free of Qui-Gon's loosened grip and came up on his elbows. "And all this time, Master, while you were busy maintaining a proper relationship, did you ever once consider that I loved you as much as you love me?"
Qui-Gon nodded, though his eyes had taken on a haunted look. "I suspected it."
Despite himself, Obi-Wan felt his anger growing again. "You _suspected_ it? And still you hid from me behind that Sithdamned Jedi serenity!"
"It is who I am, Obi-Wan. You cannot expect me to be less than . . ."
"I'll show you what I expect," Obi-Wan interrupted with a growl. He reached up for a handful of his Master's tunics, pulled him down for another smoldering kiss. This one was as deep and demanding as the first, but he controlled it this time, and after a moment he rolled them over so that he was on top. He let his legs slip to either side of Qui-Gon's hips, rolling his pelvis forward so that their erections met through the fabric of their clothes, his Master's fully as hard as his own. "This is what I expect, Master," he said. He grasped the front of Qui-Gon's tunic with both hands, tugging it open, tearing the tough fabric in his effort to find bare skin. When he did, he fastened his mouth on a nipple, sucking hard until it pebbled, until Qui-Gon twisted and writhed beneath him, moaning in supplication.
"Padawan, please . . ."
"No," Obi-Wan said, raising his head and pegging Qui-Gon with a menacing look of his own. "There is no Padawan here. No Master. Only two men who love each other, who need each other. Do you want this, Qui-Gon? Do you truly want this?"
"With all of my heart and soul and being," came the immediate response. "But ---"
Obi-Wan silenced his lips with two fingers. "Then, we shall have it. For I have wanted nothing more since I was sixteen and starry-eyed in love with my tall, stately, absolutely unattainable Master."
"But, your training - your Knightship!"
"Those things will still exist, beloved," he said, enjoying the way the endearment rolled off his tongue, enjoying the way it made the blue eyes of the man beneath him light up. "Give this to me. Let me give this to you. I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn. Tonight, be mine, wholly and completely."
Qui-Gon lifted a hand, caressed the side of Obi-Wan's face as if he were the most precious jewel in the universe. "Wholly and completely, my love," he said, his face softening into a smile.
With a grin, Obi-Wan attacked that nipple again, switching to its neighbor after a few minutes. Qui-Gon's hands were everywhere - stroking the younger man's back, clutching at his hips, fumbling to untie the waistband of his leggings. "One thing more --- " Obi-Wan said, his words broken up in his fascination to see just how far into Qui-Gon's navel he could press his tongue. "Just what was with that scene in the Council Chamber?"
Qui-Gon, writhing beneath him and nearly overwhelmed with pleasure, if his almost constant moans were any indication, seemed confused by the question. "Which scene?"
Obi-Wan sank his teeth into the trembling skin of his Master's stomach, biting down hard enough to wring a yelp from Qui-Gon. "That scene," he said when he came up for air, glaring hard into the nearest set of blue eyes, "where you dumped me in front of the entire Jedi Council."
Qui-Gon had the balls to look affronted. "I did no such thing!"
Obi-Wan felt his temper rising again. "You most certainly did! It was obvious to everyone that you recommended me for the trials only because they denied you Anakin!"
"I did not! You are ready!"
"Then why did you not tell me that before?"
"Obi-Wan . . ." Qui-Gon said placatingly, his hands reaching up to stroke along his Padawan's arms.
"No!" the younger man snapped. He caught the offending hands and pressed them to the floor. "No, you will explain it to me, or this goes no further!"
"The boy must be trained, that's all," Qui-Gon said in his most reasonable tone, not trying to pull his hands free.
"Why?" Obi-Wan shouted as he glared down at his Master. "Why is he so fucking important?"
Qui-Gon's brows drew together. "Mind your language!"
"Answer me, Sith damn you!"
Now Qui-Gon was getting angry again, as well, apparently not liking his Padawan's tone. "You know as well as I," he said in that low, calm voice that always meant that too many of his buttons had been pushed, "that the boy's midi-chlorian count is astronomically high. If the Jedi do not claim him, the Sith certainly will. Why else do you think that creature I fought was on Naboo? Coincidence?"
"I'll concede that point," Obi-Wan said, still leaning hard on those wrists. "But why must you be the one to train him? Is it because you think you're the only one qualified, or because it's an easy way to get a truly worthy apprentice?"
The deep blue eyes narrowed. "I thought you'd given up on that foolishness," he growled.
"No! You merely distracted me!" Obi-Wan yelled. A shock wave of barely controlled Force hit him full in the chest, knocking him backwards awkwardly. He held onto his Master's wrists - not that he could have released them, for all of his muscles suddenly seemed to have frozen solid.
All but one set, he realized as his cock pressed ever harder against its confinement.
He hit the floor hard again, adding a set of bruises on his back that mirrored those on his front. He wheezed out a few choice Huttenese curses as Qui-Gon landed flat on top of him, so close that their noses nearly collided.
"I will tell you this one more time, my obstinate young Padawan," Qui- Gon said. His voice was no more than a whisper, yet it chilled Obi- Wan through and through. "I have not, nor would I ever, consider you unworthy. And, if you ever imply that again in my presence, I shall -- - I shall --- "
"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan asked breathlessly when the man's voice trailed off. "What shall you do?"
The blue eyes darkened until the pupils were nearly all black. He leaned in closer, brushing the coarseness of his beard across Obi- Wan's cleft chin. "I," he breathed, "shall turn you over my knee and beat you until you are black and blue, my Padawan, and then I shall fuck you until you cannot walk for a month."
Obi-Wan shuddered, his cock throbbing and screaming for attention, though the rest of him was still paralyzed. Then, all rational thought left him as a hot mouth closed on his throat, sucking hard, drawing the blood to the surface, marking him for all to see. The very idea sent a stab of need through him, more intense than he had ever experienced before.
He was not a virgin, not since he was sixteen, but he was far from experienced. And never in his years had he felt such passion. He arched up under his Master's weight, not realizing until after he'd done it that he was no longer so rigidly controlled. Qui-Gon jerked his hands free and pinned Obi-Wan's instead, stretching them out to the full length of his arms, pressing the younger man down with his chest, the full lengths of their bodies touching. Obi-Wan felt his Master's erection pressing between his thighs, searing hot even through layers of fabric. A mouth closed over his again.
Qui-Gon released his wrists, only to grip them even tighter in bands of pure Force. The Jedi Master raised up, fingers scrabbling to untie both their leggings and push them down, freeing two engorged cocks.
"Yes!" Obi-Wan hissed as Qui-Gon mashed him to the floor again, hot flesh against hot flesh. Their erections rubbed together, and he nearly came from that sensation alone.
Qui-Gon was apparently reading his mind. "Oh, no, my own," he said, his voice honey sweet, thick with passion, and infinitely dangerous. "You don't come until I am buried inside you." With that, he flipped Obi-Wan over, covering his body with his own, the velvet- covered rod of his cock pressing insistently against the younger man's hip.
Obi-Wan tried to spread his legs, knowing it would hurt this way, but the leggings bunched up around his thighs prevented it. He gasped as a tendril of the Force pressed inside him, twisting and stretching and stroking across his prostate. "Master!" he gasped, barely able to find the breath for it.
A low chuckle was his answer, the breath from it stirring the fine hairs on the back of his neck and making him shiver. The air was squeezed from his lungs again as Qui-Gon's full weight rested on him. The Master's freed hands reached between them and spread Obi-Wan's cheeks. Obi-Wan felt something impossibly thick and hot pressing against his opening, and he tensed despite himself.
"Relax, my love," Qui-Gon crooned into his ear. "I will not hurt you." The tip of a wet tongue traced his earlobe then thrust deeply inside.
Obi-Wan shuddered at the sensation, then gasped as Qui-Gon levered his hips forward, impaling him fully in one strong thrust. There was no pain, just an incredible feeling of stretching, of fullness. His own cock was trapped beneath him and mashed against the hard floor. He tried to move, needing friction, but strong hands surrounded his hips and held him down as his Master began a long, tortuously slow pull back out, only to thrust forward again.
Time and again, Qui-Gon repeated the motion. Slow pull out, fast drive in. Out, in, out, in, out, in, until Obi-Wan thought he would go mad from the steady, calculated repetition of it. He needed more, so much more.
"Qui-Gon! Please!" he yelled, trying and failing to lift his hips, to spread his legs, anything to get that incredible cock deeper into him. "Faster! Please, I need ---"
"What - do - you - need?" Qui-Gon asked in rhythm with his strokes.
"More! Harder! Oh, ghods!"
Qui-Gon chuckled again, the vibration rumbling through Obi-Wan like the roar of a ship's engine. He felt his Master shift the angle of his assault, just slightly, and his whole spinal column lit up as his prostate was struck.
He heard himself scream, felt himself tumbling over the edge from sanity into mindless ecstasy. All his muscles spasmed, his toes curled, his hands clinched into fists. A roar above him signaled Qui- Gon's climax, and the last thing Obi-Wan remembered before sinking into blissful, peaceful unconsciousness was the spurt of liquid fire within him.
When he awakened, his time sense told him that less than an hour had passed. He snuggled closer to the warm, naked body behind him, not surprised to find that he had been stripped and lifted into bed.
"You are going to be very good for my ego," Qui-Gon rumbled near his ear, "if you faint every time we make love."
Obi-Wan laughed. "That," he said, nearly gasping the word out as Qui- Gon's blunt fingers caught and tweaked his nipple, "was the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me."
"Oh, my precious one," Qui-Gon said, his hand dropping down to stroke Obi-Wan's rapidly awakening cock, "_that_ was just the beginning."
(later, on Naboo)
"Master!" Obi-Wan gasped, dropping to his knees beside the fallen Jedi.
"It is too late . . ." Qui-Gon breathed, his voice barely audible. "It's . . ."
"No!"
Dark blue eyes, already losing their focus, sought Obi-Wan's. "Obi- Wan promise ---promise me you'll train the boy . . ."
"Yes, Master . . ." he agreed, anything to keep Qui-Gon talking as Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to gauge the severity of the injury. He paled and swayed when the answer came. // No! // he screamed mentally. // I will not let you die! // He reached deeper, struggling to latch onto his Master's life force, striving to anchor it to the here and now.
Qui-Gon was still talking, seemingly unaware of his Padawan's desperate efforts. "He is the chosen one...he will...bring balance...train him!"
"Yes, Master. Now, be still. Let me help you."
Weakly, Qui-Gon shook his head, wincing at the agony of movement. "Too . . . late." His head lolled sideways as he lost the battle for consciousness. His heart still beat, however, though faintly, his hold on life ensured by the man who cradled his limp form, refusing to let him go.
"You will not die on me, Qui-Gon Jinn," Obi-Wan growled, reaching for a tighter hold on his Master's presence. "Do you hear me? You will not die!" He reached deeper into his lover's mind, entwining their very spirits together, using every ounce of skill he had ever learned. He felt the feeble heartbeat steady, even as Qui-Gon's pain washed through him, making him grind his teeth together in an effort not to scream.
Oh, great stars and planets, it hurt! He could feel the lightsaber wound as if it were his own, could feel the residual heat from the weapon burning inside him. He released as much of the agony as he could into the Force, clinging to the rest of it like a lifeline. As long as he still felt it, his Master still lived. He sent cooling, soothing rays into the wound, knowing it would not be enough but needing to do something, anything.
He felt his life force entwining with Qui-Gon's. Were they life- bonding? He hoped so, even if it meant that he would follow the older Jedi into death. At least they would still be together. Scarcely aware that he was doing it, he opened himself to the Living Force and sent out a call for help. Would it reach the Temple? He didn't know. He only knew that someone, somewhere, would hear it.
His own heartbeat had slowed to match Qui-Gon's, and he felt himself growing lightheaded. **Is this what it feels like to die?** he wondered. If so, it was much nicer than he'd imagined. He let his eyes close, holding tighter to the man in his arms as the universe did a slow turn around them, then another, faster and faster until it was like being inside some huge cyclone. Centrifugal force ripped his clothes from him, sent his braid and his Master's hair whipping around their faces, stinging where it struck. He held on, burying his face in Qui-Gon's tunic. Then, abruptly, it stopped.
Cautiously, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He was --- well --- nowhere he recognized. He was standing, though he couldn't really feel anything under his feet, and he was quite naked. It was warm and full of light here, wherever _here_ was. Sensing someone behind him, he turned.
"Where are we?" his equally naked Master asked, blinking in the brightness of this place.
Memory returned, and Obi-Wan gasped. He stepped closer, one hand coming up to touch the bare, undamaged chest. "Master!" he said, his gaze locking with Qui-Gon's. "Are you well?"
Qui-Gon frowned and glanced down, touching his chest for himself. There was no injury, no searing, smoking wound. And no pain. "Are we dead?" he asked softly.
Obi-Wan took a moment to take stock. "We can't be," he said, the flat of his hand still on Qui-Gon's chest. "Our hearts are still beating."
Qui-Gon's puzzled frown deepened. He looked around again, trying to see something beyond the all-encompassing light. "Then, where are we?"
"I don't know," Obi-Wan said as his hands rose to his Master's face. He stroked his fingers through the coarseness of his beard, ran a thumb across his lips. "And, I don't care. As long as we're together . . ."
Sapphire blue eyes darkened with desire, and Qui-Gon leaned forward, capturing Obi-Wan's mouth. The younger man moaned as a soft tongue thrust into his mouth, stroking all it could reach. He met it with him own, nearly melting at the answering groan. They spent long minutes mapping each other's mouth, drinking in the taste, enjoying the spiral of arousal that encompassed them.
"I love you, my Master," Obi-Wan sighed when they finally separated. Somehow, they were lying down, though he didn't remember moving. Qui- Gon was above him, his solid weight pressing Obi-Wan into the soft nothingness beneath him.
"And I love you, my own," Qui-Gon said, holding Obi-Wan's face in his hands. He shifted his mouth to the side of his lover's neck, covering it with kisses before moving lazily down his chest. He grinned against the flushed skin as his Padawan arched into his touch.
"Ahhh!" Obi-Wan gasped as that hot mouth closed over one oversensitized nipple. It was suckled and nipped and suckled again until he thought he would go mad with desire. Finally able to stand it no longer, he entwined both hands in his Master's hair and silently urged his mouth lower. Qui-Gon went willingly enough, tasting every centimeter of skin as he trailed hot kisses down Obi- Wan's stomach, his abdomen, moving finally down to his thighs, but bypassing that one spot screaming for his touch. "Please . . ." he entreated.
Qui-Gon took pity on him at last, and swallowed him to the root.
"Yes!" the younger man hissed, thrusting up into the hot wetness. A strong tongue caressed him from root to head as Qui-Gon pulled back slowly. It flickered around the small slit, gathering the moisture there, before Qui-Gon moved down again, enveloping his lover fully.
The talented mouth worked him, driving him to the edge of climax and holding him there. He tightened down on his control. "No," he gasped.
The moist heat released him, and he opened his eyes to meet an amused blue gaze. "No?" Qui-Gon repeated with a slight grin.
Obi-Wan reached out for his lover, hands opening and closing on empty air like a toddler's. "In me!" he managed to grate out, all his nerve endings thrumming and begging for more. "Now! Please!"
The blue eyes softened and darkened and Qui-Gon let loose a rumble from deep within his chest. "No," he said. "This time, I want you inside me."
Obi-Wan felt his mouth fall open, amazed at the gift his Master was offering. "Oh, yes," he said. He sat up, arms sliding around Qui-Gon and pulling him back down. Their lips met and Obi-Wan rolled them over. He controlled the kiss this time, and spent a great deal of time cataloging the taste and texture of his Master's mouth.
He shifted lower, sucking and nibbling the fragile skin of Qui-Gon's throat. There would be a mark there, he realized with a smile. His own personal brand of possession. Qui-Gon must have realized what he was doing, or else he had picked up on Obi-Wan's thoughts, for he moaned and arched into the touch.
"Yes, beloved," the older Jedi said, turning his head to give his Padawan better access. "Yours, always."
"Mine," Obi-Wan agreed, closing his teeth for a second and feeling Qui-Gon shudder beneath him.
"Now, Obi-Wan! Please!"
Without a word, Obi-Wan slid down between Qui-Gon's thighs, his heart pounding as they were spread wider and drawn up toward the heaving chest. "I have no lube," he began, but Qui-Gon cut him off.
"I don't care! Take me! Now!"
It was a command, and Obi-Wan grinned. "Always the Master," he said, "even in this."
"Less talk, more action!"
Obi-Wan planted a quick kiss to the base of the straining, engorged cock that curled up against Qui-Gon's stomach, then positioned himself and drove inside in one smooth stroke. All the love he had ever felt, every secret desire, every need, sparked and flared inside his mind, exploding like pinwheels of fire on the backs of his eyelids.
"Ahhhh!" his lover gasped. His legs circled Obi-Wan's hips, pulling him in impossibly deeper even as he pressed downward into their joining. "Loveyouloveyouloveyou . . ."
Obi-Wan began to move, a frantic, desperate thrusting, knowing that neither of them would last long this time. He felt his own love mirrored back at him, multiplied and expanded a thousand fold. "And I . . . love you . . . too, my . . . Master!" The last word emerged as a shout as he came, spurting deep into the writhing body beneath him. Qui-Gon followed him over the edge, his seed dampening Obi-Wan's chest as the smaller man collapsed on top of him.
For long moments they lay there, too sated to move.
"Thank you," Obi-Wan said when finally his overloaded brain re- engaged.
A strong hand caressed his cheek and blue eyes sparkled up at him. "No, my love. Thank you."
Unbidden, Obi-Wan felt tears well up in his eyes, remembering his pain of past days. He blinked rapidly to keep them from falling, not wanting his Master to see. Qui-Gon saw them anyway.
"I'm so sorry for hurting you, my Padawan."
Obi-Wan rolled onto one elbow and dragged a hand across his face. "I know," he said, not pretending to misunderstand. Then, he backhanded his Master across the chest, hard. "But if you ever reject me again, I'll have to hurt you!"
Qui-Gon reached up to wipe away the moisture glistening at the corner of Obi-Wan's eye. "I did not reject you before," he said, his voice soft and steady and thick with love. "But, if I ever do, I shall deserve whatever I get."
A breeze stirred Obi-Wan's hair, and he raised his head, looking around. There was still nothing to see, but a breeze had begun to blow, increasing in intensity with each passing second.
"What's happening?" he asked, capturing his braid out of the air as it floated upward, caught in the rising wind. It blew stronger, tugging at them, and he found himself clinging tightly to Qui-Gon as some unseen force pulled at him, threatening to separate them.
"I don't know," his Master answered, raising his voice to be heard over the now howling wind.
Obi-Wan pressed his face against his Master's chest as the gale tried to drag him away.
"Hold onto me!" Qui-Gon shouted. He seemed unaffected by the pulling as he reached out to grasp his lover's hands.
They held on for dear life, even when the suction drew Obi-Wan up, his legs flailing. He hung in midair, anchored to Qui-Gon only by his hands, his body stretched taut and suspended nearly vertically.
"Don't let go!" he screamed, terrified that, once sucked away, he would never be able to return.
"I won't!" Qui-Gon shouted back. But even as he said it, his grip was slipping.
"NO!" Obi-Wan screamed as he was finally ripped away. In a fraction of a second, he lost sight of Qui-Gon, lost sight of the place of light and warmth. A firm yet yielding surface sprang up and slammed him in the back, making him gasp out loud, and dim figures swayed before his tear-dimmed eyes.
"Safe you are, Obi-Wan," a familiar but unexpected voice told him. Something small and warm settled on his forehead. "Saved your Master, you did."
"Master!" the Padawan said, his voice barely a squeak. He tried to sit up, but the small hand on his forehead held him down.
"Rest now, you must."
He shook his head frantically, struggling to reach out across his bond to find Qui-Gon, desperate to see him, to touch him. He realized with a gasp that the training bond was gone, severed, leaving nothing but a hollow place in his head where it had once been. He could still sense Qui-Gon somehow, but only faintly. It was like watching a sunrise through smoky, textured glass, his vision hazy and indistinct. Yoda must have been reading his mind.
"Reach him now, you cannot," the wizened old Master told him. "In a bacta tank, he is. Heal, his injuries will, though much time it will take."
Obi-Wan's vision finally cleared, and he glanced around the small room. Mace Windu stood nearby, his expression troubled. "Master Windu?" Obi-Wan croaked, frightened by the look on the dark-skinned man's face. "Is Qui-Gon . . ."
"He's fine, Knight Kenobi," Windu said, and Obi-Wan blinked at the unfamiliar title. A hint of a smile appeared on the Master's face. "Oh, yes. You've been Knighted. Congratulations."
Obi-Wan freed one hand from the prison of covers and reached for the Padawan braid that no longer hung behind his ear. "When . . ." he began. "How . . ."
"In time, explained all will be," Yoda said from beside him. "For now, only this do you need to know. Lives, Qui-Gon does. But, think that he died, everyone must. Too vulnerable, he is. Killed a Sith, you did. Always two, there are. After young Skywalker, the other one will come."
Yoda's words rattled around in his brain, tumbling one over the other as he tried to make sense of them. Finally, realization dawned, causing a shard of ice to settle in his stomach, and his eyes widened. "You think the remaining Sith might try to harm my Master?"
"It's very possible," Windu said. He glanced across at Yoda, seemed to get permission to speak, and sat down on the side of the bed. "It's obvious that the Sith want Anakin. So, we're going to set a trap for him. If he thinks that Qui-Gon is dead and that you are Anakin's Master, he may be bold enough to make another attempt to kidnap the boy. When he does, we'll be ready."
Obi-Wan fell silent as he digested this. Finally, he looked up at Master Windu. "But, why must everyone think that Qui-Gon is dead?"
"If the surviving Sith knows that Qui-Gon is alive but gravely injured, he might try to take him, to use him as a bargaining chip to get you to turn the boy over to him."
Obi-Wan nodded slowly. It made sense. If faced with choosing Qui- Gon's life over that of a boy he scarcely knew, he wasn't sure he could make the right decision. And the last thing he wanted to do was to endanger his Master's life. He reached out along their bond a second time, his brow furrowing as he still got only a hazy sense of his Master's presence. Again, Yoda seemed to know what he was thinking.
"Break your training bond, we had to," he said, patting Obi-Wan sympathetically on the shoulder. "Otherwise, sense it the Sith might. Underestimate him, we cannot. Begun, another bond has, but strong yet it is not."
"A life bond," Obi-Wan said with certainty, and Yoda nodded.
"Concerned we are about this," he admitted. "But, break that bond we cannot."
"Will it lead the Sith to Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asked, feeling a stab of fear.
"We don't think so," Master Windu said. "It's new and fragile. More than likely, it will dissipate on it's own in a short while." His eyes bored into Obi-Wan's. "Unless --- has it been consumated?"
Had it? Obi-Wan wasn't sure. It had started, he was fairly certain, in the Theed power plant, when he had struggled to keep Qui-Gon alive. They had made love after that, in that other place. But, had it been real? "No." He shook his head. "At least, I don't think it has."
He glanced up, saw the others looking at him strangely. But, he had no time for such speculation now. He thought through the implications of what they had told him, what they expected from him, and swallowed hard. His gaze rose to meet Yoda's. "You're going to make me leave Qui-Gon here, aren't you?"
Yoda nodded. "Unsafe it is to return him to the Temple. Remain here, he will, under the Queen's guard, until well enough he is to travel. Then, hidden away he will be, until such time as it is safe for him to emerge."
"But, I don't want to leave him!" Obi-Wan said, trying again to rise. This time, two sets of hands prevented it.
"You will do what you must," Master Windu said sternly, pulling up the fallen blanket. "You're a Knight now, with a Padawan of your own."
Obi-Wan blinked, feeling slow. Yes, of course. He'd promised Qui-Gon that he'd train the boy. But, how had these two known that?
"In your mind, we were," Yoda explained. "Separate you the Queen's medical staff could not. Stop, Qui-Gon's heart would, each time they would try. Forced to break your bond, Windu and I were, to pull you away."
"But, if Qui-Gon's heart stopped ---!"
"It's all right," Master Windu interrupted. "The doctors put him on life support immediately. No permanent harm was done."
"Will he truly be all right?" Obi-Wan asked, needing to hear it again.
"Heal, he will," Yoda assured him. His gaze grew unfocused for a moment, then he looked down and met Obi-Wan's eyes. "Now, needed you are, by your new Padawan. Frightened, the boy is. Thinks Qui-Gon died, he does, and afraid he was of losing you, too."
"Is Anakin all right?" Obi-Wan asked, knowing nothing of what had happened to the boy after Qui-Gon ordered him to stay in that cockpit.
A slight smile crossed Windu's face briefly. "He's fine, and the talk of the planet, considering that he blew up the Federation battleship single handed."
Obi-Wan felt his mouth drop open. "He what?"
"Ended the war, the boy did," Yoda said. "Right about him, Qui-Gon was. Strong with the Force, Anakin is."
"And," Master Windu said as he got to his feet, "he's anxious to see you. Remember, you must not let anyone suspect that Qui-Gon is alive. He'll be a target if the wrong people find out."
Obi-Wan nodded solemnly. "I know." It would be difficult to form an adequate training bond with Anakin with this lie between them, but he would do what he had to do to keep Qui-Gon out of danger. "I have to see him," he said, halting Windu and Yoda before they reached the door. "Qui-Gon. I have to see him before I take Anakin back to the Temple."
"See him, you will," Yoda said. "For now, out of your mind you must put Qui-Gon. Perceptive, the boy is. Pick up on your emotions, he will."
"Yes, Master Yoda. I'll be careful."
He watched them leave. The sound of small, running feet heralded Anakin's arrival. He let himself sag wearily into the bed, hiding a small smile as the boy skidded to a halt in the doorway and walked in slowly, trying to give the illusion of restraint.
"Hello, Master Obi-Wan, sir," he said as he came to stand beside the bed. There were dried tear tracks on his cheeks, and his hands were clasped in front of him, as if he were forcing himself not to wring them. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Anakin," he said softly. He saw the boy's lower lip tremble slightly, saw him tighten his mouth to prevent it. Knowing what Anakin had lost, he opened his arms, and was immediately bombarded with a lapful of sobbing child.
"I'm so sorry about Master Qui-Gon!" the boy cried, his voice muffled by the blankets in which he had buried his face. "When I heard your call for help, I got the medics there as quick as I could, but he died anyway! If only I'd been faster!"
Obi-Wan pried the boy away and met his eyes. "No, Anakin, you must never think that," he told him firmly. "The Sith killed Master Qui- Gon." His heart thudded within him as he uttered the lie. "A few minutes either way wouldn't have made any difference."
Anakin nodded, raising one hand to dry his face. "That's what Master Yoda said." He dragged one hand across his damp face. "Still, I wish he hadn't died."
"I know."
Anakin's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "Your braid's gone."
"Yes, Anakin. I'm a Knight, now. No longer a Padawan."
"That's good, I guess, huh?"
"Yes. It means that I can train you now, as Master Qui-Gon would have."
The blue eyes widened. "You mean, you'll be my Master?" he asked hesitantly. "I thought the Jedi Council said I was too old to be trained."
Obi-Wan forced a smile that he didn't feel. "I suppose, after you blew up the ship and single handedly ended the war, they changed their mind."
Anakin beamed and threw his arms around Obi-Wan's neck, hugging him tightly. "Oh, this is so wizard! I'll be a good Padawan, Master Obi- Wan, sir! Really I will!"
"I know you will, Ani," Obi-Wan said, one hand rubbing soothing circles on the boy's back. He felt a pang of sorrow as he recalled Qui-Gon doing the same for him when he was a boy and needed comforting. He didn't know how he could survive being separated from Qui-Gon now. To his surprise, Anakin pulled back almost immediately.
"You're really sad about losing Master Qui-Gon, aren't you?" he asked with the straightforwardness that Obi-Wan had come to expect from the former slave.
"Losing someone you love is always sad, Anakin."
"Yes." Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, his blue eyes narrowing. "You're tired," he said almost sternly. "Padme, I mean, Queen Amidala, said you'd need lots of rest." He slid off the bed and reached out to straighten the blankets over Obi-Wan's chest. The new Knight smiled at the boy's solicitous concern. "You go to sleep, Master Obi-Wan, sir," he said. "I'll come back before --- well, before the funeral."
Obi-Wan felt a stab of something very much like pain tear through his heart. Funeral. Of course, there would have to be a funeral. He looked down when he felt a small hand on top of his. Sympathetic blue eyes met his questioningly.
"I'm fine, Anakin," he said, not ready to call the boy Padawan. It didn't seem real yet, none of it did. "And, you should just call me 'Master'."
Anakin gave him a disbelieving look, but finally nodded. "Okay. I mean, yes, Master. Try to sleep now."
Obi-Wan smiled. "I will." He watched the boy leave, thinking how greatly his life had changed in that dreadful moment when he had watched the red blade sink into his Master's chest. At least Qui-Gon was still alive. Everything else would work itself out, somehow. Drowsiness overcame him, and despite his best efforts, Obi-Wan let his eyes close.
There was a ceremony held the very next day, bidding farewell to a fallen Jedi Master. The illusion of Qui-Gon's body, something Master Yoda and Master Windu had contrived, was all too real. Obi-Wan felt himself shudder as he watched the pyre burn. What if they had lied to him? What if Qui-Gon were really dead, his body now being consumed by flames, and the report of his death only a lie to keep him functional, to keep him moving forward?
// Lie to you, we did not, // Yoda's voice said directly into his mind. He looked up to meet the small Master's eyes. // See him for yourself, you will, before you leave this evening. //
Obi-Wan bowed his head, letting a single tear escape. Relief that Qui- Gon lived? Grief at the thought of leaving him? Obi-Wan didn't know, and right now, it didn't matter. He felt Anakin shift imperceptibly closer, one small hand reaching up to take his. He offered the boy the slightest of smiles. // I'm fine, // he said, using the unfamiliar and fragile new bond that Yoda had helped him create. // Padawan. //
It was the first time he'd called the boy by his new title, and he saw a second of amazed pride cross the young face. **I will train him well, my Master,** he told himself, wishing that their training bond had not been broken, or that the slender thread of life bond were stronger, needing to send that assurance directly to his Master's mind. **I will make you proud of me.**
He stayed there after most of the others left, stayed there until Anakin curled up on the floor and fell asleep. Yoda touched his hand before scooping the boy up and carrying him away, leaving Obi-Wan alone.
The fire burned down at last, though why Obi-Wan felt compelled to stay until it did, he couldn't have said. Only then realizing how many hours had passed, he reached out along the wavering connection to Qui-Gon and let it lead him to his Master's side.
Just one look at the nude body floating in the thick, pink bacta was his undoing. Tears poured from his eyes, blinding him, so that he was only vaguely aware of the medics giving way and filing out of the room.
// My Master . . . // he sent, the mental call thick with pain.
He did not expect an answer, but a moment later the figure in the vertical tube stirred and blue eyes opened.
// Obi-Wan? //
The mind voice was weak, barely there, but it was the most beautiful thing Obi-Wan had ever heard. He stumbled the last few feet and pressed his palms against the warm transparency.
// You truly are alive! // he sent with a shudder, not sure he had really believed it before.
The barest hint of a smile stirred the corners of Qui-Gon's mouth. // Barely, I'm told, // he said wryly. // And only because you saved me. // He raised one hand weakly, pressed it to the glass opposite Obi-Wan's. A connection, almost like a spark, passed between them, and the life bond strengthened fractionally.
// The training bond is gone, // Qui-Gon said, his mind voice revealing his sorrow at the loss. // But, this . . . //
Obi-Wan shifted, a little embarrassed. // A life bond, I believe, my Master. // He leaned forward until his face was against the glass. // But, they say it will fade. //
A groan of effort, heard only through their bond, reached Obi-Wan, and he looked up in dismay to see Qui-Gon twisting as he brought his own face closer.
// Master! // he said, alarmed. // You shouldn't . . . //
// Hush, // Qui-Gon chided him. // I'm fine. //
Obi-Wan almost laughed at that, but one glance at the ugly, gaping wound in Qui-Gon's chest stopped the sound in his chest. // I believe your Healers would argue that point with you, // he said. // As would I. //
// Be with me now, // Qui-Gon sent along the fragile bond. // Stay with me while you can. // He pressed his face against the inside of the glass, and Obi-Wan immediately did the same on the outside. Waves of love and need flowed from one to the other and back again. And, along with that, there was pain. Qui-Gon's pain.
// Have they given you no pain killers? // Obi-Wan asked in abject horror.
// As many as they dare, // came the reply. // That is not important now. Open your heart to me, beloved. Be close to me while we can. //
// Yes! // Obi-Wan hissed. He felt Qui-Gon lower his shields, and he threw up a larger shield around the entire room even as he lowered his own. He pushed all of his love through that trembling link, marveling as it swelled and strengthened.
// I - don't know when I'll see you again, // he said, needing Qui- Gon to understand.
// I know. But, this, // Qui-Gon said, indicating the life bond, // this will keep us close, no matter how far apart we are. //
// Will it? // Obi-Wan asked, feeling his heart breaking anew at the thought of separation.
// Yes. //
// How can you know? // Obi-Wan asked. ** . . . when I don't, ** he wanted to add, but didn't. // Yoda says a life bond has to be consumated to continue . . . //
Without a word, Qui-Gon turned his head, revealing the front of his throat. There, just below his Adam's apple, was a blue and purple bruise that matched the one on the side of Obi-Wan's neck. He felt his eyes widen. // It was real, then? // he asked in amazement.
Qui-Gon nodded weakly, then leaned against the glass again. Obi-Wan followed suit, and he felt their connection grow even stronger as their faces pressed together through the partition. He memorized every moment, every heartbeat, knowing he would need it to sustain him in the troubled days to come. Finally, sensing that his Master was rapidly running out of strength, he withdrew, stepping back from the tank.
// Know that my thoughts and my love are with you always, my Master, // he sent, gaze burning into the blue eyes that were even now closing of their own volition.
// And mine with you, // Qui-Gon assured him, a moment before he succumbed again to the drugs and exhaustion.
Obi-Wan reached out with one hand and touched the bacta tank, letting his fingertips trail down its smooth, warm surface as if it were the sensitive flesh of his Master's chest. "Always," he whispered. With a sigh, Obi-Wan turned, away from his love and toward his new, uncertain future.
The End