Master
Apprentice  Archive
Out Into Freedom, Part 5
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Qui awoke to pain, both his own and his Master's.
His own wasn't really that bad, considering. His wrists hurt from the too tight metal cuffs that bound them and there was some pain in his bare chest and stomach from the hard wooden table he was bent over. The back of his head ached from the blow he had taken, and his vision, when at last he pried open his eyes, was a little blurry and distorted. Cool air washed over him, telling him that he was naked. He squirmed, testing his bonds. They were, of course, unbreakable, and the effort only brought more pain.
But Obi-Wan's pain was much worse. Though Qui couldn't see much except for a gray wall a few feet away and the wood surface beneath him, he felt Obi-Wan strongly through their link. He could feel the bruises over the young Jedi's ribs --- the result of kicks, Qui was certain, for he knew well how those felt --- could feel the blood still streaming from the blaster wound in his shoulder and the stab wound in his knee. But even more troubling than his Master's injuries was his sense through the Force. It was dimmed, hard to locate, as if he'd been ---
"Did you get enough of that Quietin down him?" a voice Qui recognized as belonging to the master-torturer asked from somewhere behind him.
"Oh, yeah." That was Gregorri. "Our little Jedi here won't be any trouble for a long time." A clammy hand ran lewdly over Qui's bare buttocks. "What about the swab? Think he needs some?"
The master-torturer chuckled, a frightening sound from which Qui instinctively tried to flinch. "No. He's helpless enough." A fist twisted in Qui's short hair and jerked his head up sharply. "Isn't that right, swab?" He chuckled again, and the former slave shivered. He felt the torturer step closer, and then his legs were kicked wider apart. The sound of fabric rustling and the heat of a body pressed against his made him close his eyes in dread. He knew what was coming. "No, we don't need to drug this one to enjoy him."
Qui cried out as a thick cock, familiar in its brutality, was rammed into his unprepared passageway. He felt himself tearing and bruising, felt hot blood trickling down the inside of his thighs. The hand in his hair tightened, pulling his head back farther and threatening to snap his neck.
"Oh, yeah," the man behind him said. "Still so tight, aren't you, swab? What's the matter --- your little Jedi friend isn't hung well enough to keep you loose? Or hasn't he fucked you yet? Or, maybe he likes you to take him, hmm?" He began to move then, brutally, ramming in and out with all his strength. Each thrust shoved Qui against the edge of the table, bruising his genitals and feeling as if it were stabbing all the way up into his throat. Each withdrawal threatened to turn him inside out, dragging as it did on the dry, fragile tissue inside his rectum. He didn't try to suppress his cries, knowing from past experience that the more stoic he was, the longer the torture would continue and the more his abusers would enjoy it.
Gregorri moved into Qui's line of vision, standing near the head of the table and stroking himself through his trousers. "Go ahead," the torturer told him, his words punctuated with grunts of effort as he took his pleasure. "Our little swab here won't mind servicing two of us at once, will you, swab?"
More laughter, from both men, and then a hard, thick cock was shoved deeply into Qui's mouth, the grip in his hair holding his head back ensuring that he couldn't struggle, couldn't bite, couldn't even close his mouth. He gagged around it as it went deep into his throat, cutting off his air.
"Oh, yeah," Gregorri moaned. "You're good at this, swab." He caught Qui by the ears, jerking his head forward even as the man behind him jerked it backwards. Qui screamed around the obstruction in his throat as it felt his scalp tearing as if it was being ripped away.
"Hey, swab," the torturer said as he pumped away toward completion, "I got a new toy while you were away." Something whistled through the air and struck Qui between the shoulder blades. A line of white-hot fire followed the blow as the metal-tipped lash tore away flesh. "Like that, do you?" the man asked after Qui's half-stifled scream had died away. The torturer laughed and pumped faster, striking Qui again and again with the whip.
Chained to the table and helpless under the men's assault, Qui could only endure. He struggled to remain conscious, struggled to breathe against the cock that choked him and the one in his rectum that felt as if it were beating him to death. He longed to send his mind away, to someplace dark and safe and free of pain, as he had before during similar rapes. But, his awareness of his Master's presence kept him grounded in the here and now. He focused instead on that awareness, reaching out with his mind for the one he had come to love more than life itself.
Obi-Wan was still unconscious, and for that Qui was grateful. He remembered his Master's outrage when he had seen the damage the last rape and whipping had caused. He did not wish him to be awake to witness this one.
It took a very long time, but finally both men roared their completion, filling him full of their seed before pulling out of him. Dizzy with asphyxia, choking on the come that filled his throat and seeped into his nostrils, Qui felt his cheekbone shatter as his face was slammed down onto the hard wooden surface beneath him. That pain warred with the agony in his back as the lash tore into him again.
He didn't try to hold back his screams.
"I've missed you, swab," the torturer said as he laid the lash again and again across Qui's back. "I haven't had anyone interesting to fuck since you've been gone. Some of the prisoners have been accommodating, of course --- not that they had a choice, mind you --- but dying, starving men just don't have the stamina that you do." He moved the lash lower, striking hard against the bruised and bloody buttocks. Qui ground his hips forward against the table in an effort to get away. But, there was so escape.
Finally, the torturer's arms grew tired, and the whipping stopped. "Get him off that table," the man said, his voice heady with sadistic pleasure. "Put the other one up there. I've never fucked a Jedi before."
"No!" Qui screamed, his raw throat making the effort painful. "Don't hurt him!"
The torturer's eyes lit up. "Like him, do you, swab? Too bad. Your Jedi friend signed his own death warrant when he dared to come back here. And the rest of his bunch --- soon as we catch up to them, they'll all die on the Wheel, just like you and your Jedi friend."
Qui's chains were released and he was shoved sideways, to crash to the floor with enough force to nearly dislocate his shoulder. He curled in on himself in pain, but his eyes were only for his Master, who lay naked and unconscious nearby. The torturer stepped up and aimed a vicious kick at Obi-Wan's unprotected ribcage. It brought a gasp from the Knight. "Well," the torturer said. "Look who's finally awake. And just in time, too."
Obi-Wan's eyes focused slowly and settled on Qui. His voice, when he spoke, was thick and ragged with pain. "Are you all right, Padawan?"
Qui nodded. "Yes, Master."
"Padawan?" Gregorri scoffed. "You hear that, boss? This Jedi's taken our useless little swab here as his Apprentice!"
"Don't be afraid, Qui," Obi-Wan continued, his words slurring slightly as he ignored the guard. "All will be well."
The two men laughed at that. "Oh, yeah, Jedi? And just how do you figure that?" Gregorri asked.
"The others will come back for us," Obi-Wan said, still directing his words toward Qui alone. "These two are no match for a group of fully trained Jedi."
The master-torturer aimed a kick at Obi-Wan's face, opening up a gash across his cheekbone and bouncing his head off the floor. Through their link, Qui felt it, too. "Well, we were match enough for you and your pretty little Padawan here, weren't we?" He turned to Gregorri. "Get him on the table."
Obi-Wan was lifted and slammed down onto the table, the impact sending a wave of agony through his shoulder wound and straight through Qui's brain. "Please, don't!" Qui pleaded, struggling weakly to his knees. His back burned like liquid fire, but he pushed the hurt away, wanting --- needing --- to help Obi-Wan. "Please, use me again if you must, but don't hurt my Master!"
A kick to the jaw sent Qui tumbling. He lay gasping, feeling his Master's pain as the Knight's arms were stretched wide and chained to the table. "No," he moaned. Frantically, he reached out for the Force, struggling to get past the waves of pain to do so. Not really knowing how to do it or if it was even possible, he sent out a call to the other Jedi, directing it mostly toward Healer Bant, since he knew her at least a little. He didn't know if he succeeded, he only knew he had to try.
Weakly, shakily, he tried to roll to his knees again. Bile rose in his throat at the movement, and sickening pain shot through his face, but still he pressed onward. He made it at last, though he swayed and wobbled like an infant. Something wet and warm trickled into his eyes, blurring his vision, and he blinked his eyes to clear them.
Ahead of him, directly in his line of vision and leaning against one wall, was the heavy metal Wheel, the cruelest of the torture devices. His throat constricted painfully at the sight and he clinched his fists in terror. Beside the Wheel, casually tossed into a corner, were his and his Master's clothes, and peeking out from under them, the tip of a silver hilt. His fingers twitched toward it. He reached out with his mind, struggling to reach the Force again, to center himself as his Master had taught him ---
--- and the lightsaber sailed unerringly into his outstretched hand.
It felt odd in his grip, unwieldy in a way that the lightweight practice saber hadn't. He thumbed it on and lurched to his feet. The two men's eyes grew round with alarm as Qui surged upright, screaming out a warrior's cry and slashing forward with the sizzling blue blade. The tip of it caught the torturer across the chest. With a scream of agony, he crumbled. Gregorri raced for the door. Changing his grip, barely keeping to his feet, Qui threw the 'saber like a spear, putting all his strength behind it.
His aim was true. The blade sank into the guard's back squarely between his shoulder blades. The man didn't even have time to scream, already dead before he hit the floor. Without thinking, Qui held out his hand and called the weapon back to him. He staggered to the table. A second later, he was cutting Obi-Wan free.
"Master!" he gasped, deactivating the lightsaber and pulling the injured Knight off the table and into his arms, lowering them both to the floor when his legs gave out. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan said. He spoke slower than usual, his words slurred and barely audible. He turned his head slightly to survey the carnage the former slave had caused. "How did you ---?" he began.
Qui shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, drawing Obi-Wan closer and cradling him like a child. He cupped one hand over the shoulder wound, focusing his attention on it. It was deep and raw, the interior still burning. Not knowing how he was doing it, he reached deeply into his Master's mind to try to soothe away the pain. "I couldn't let them hurt you," he said, holding onto his balance precariously as the room spun around him. Lights sparkled and danced behind his eyes and a wave of sudden warmth washed over him.
"Don't, Qui . . ." Obi-Wan said, squirming slightly in his grip.
"Shhh," the older man urged. He redoubled his efforts, pushing forward strongly with his mind. He felt his awareness of his beloved grow until it filled up his head, rippled through his nerves. Dimly, he heard the sound of running footsteps that announced the arrival of the other Jedi.
"You heard me?" Qui asked as Bant knelt next to Obi-Wan.
She winced. "I think they probably heard you all the way back to Coruscant, Qui. You gave us all headaches," she said.
Qui blinked and lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry. I ---"
She cut him off with a laugh. "Oh, don't apologize, Qui. I couldn't have done it." She indicated the four Jedi behind her with a jerk of her head. "I doubt that any of us could have done it, at least not with the amount of training you've had." She laid her hand over Qui's, the other over Obi-Wan's injured knee, and Qui could feel the Force surging from her hand through his and into his Master. She closed her eyes in concentration.
Qui looked up as she gasped. To his surprise, she was staring at him.
"Did you just ---?" She sighed. She gave her head a single shake. "Oh, this is going to complicate matters."
Obi-Wan stirred in their hold. "What?" he asked weakly.
She reached up to stroke his forehead with one hand. "Nothing to worry about now, Obi-Wan. Sleep."
Qui felt the Force compulsion and almost succumbed himself, pulling out of Obi-Wan's mind just in time. Then, strong, gentle hands were lifting him away. "No!" he gasped, stretching back toward his Master in an effort to re-establish touch. He felt painfully alone without it, strangely adrift.
"Don't take him too far," Bant said, her attention on Obi-Wan, who had begun to writhe and twist on the floor. "Unless I'm mistaken, Qui has just formed the beginnings of a soul bond."
"A soul bond?" Master Veruntl said, disbelief heavy in his voice. "How is that possible?"
"I don't know," Bant said, getting to her feet. "Let's get them both back to the ship. Obi-Wan needs more care than I can give him here." She glanced at Qui. "So do you," she told him.
The three Knights lifted Obi-Wan carefully off the floor, while Master Veruntl slipped out of his robe and put it on Qui. It was scratchy and painful against his raw back, but he was grateful not to have to walk back to the ship naked. The Master then slid one arm around Qui and took most of his weight. He was stronger than he looked, and Qui found himself sagging into his hold, stumbling along as they carried Obi-Wan back to the ship.
"What about the children?" he managed to ask, his raw throat making the words raspy.
"Safe and on board the ship, all twenty eight of them," the old Master told him. "They are weak and thin and heavily drugged, but their two month ordeal seems to have left no lasting injuries."
"We're lucky we found them when we did," Bant said as she walked along beside the three carrying Obi-Wan, her hand on the injured Knight's chest. "They were just beginning the brainwashing that would have turned them to the Dark Side. A few more weeks, maybe even a few more days, and ---" She broke off with a shake of her head. "I'm just glad we're getting them out of here."
"Others," Qui grated out. His head was threatening to explode, or maybe implode, the pressure inside it and around it increasing with each passing second. He cleared his throat painfully. "There are others in the prison. Innocents, guilty of nothing other than upsetting the Queen."
"Don't worry," Master Veruntl said. "As soon as you and Knight Kenobi are safely on board, the Knights and I will go back in. We'll set everyone free, and make certain they never use this prison again."
A wave of almost overwhelming relief washed over Qui, mixing with the pain and making him stumble. The old Master's grip held him upright, though, and soon they were up the ramp and inside the ship. It was full of the kidnapped children. Dusty and dirty, their hair tousled and their clothes torn, they were everywhere: on the floor, in the chairs. Others he could see through the open cabin doors, sitting or lying on the beds or on blankets that had been spread over the deck. They looked frightened and exhausted, but they were alive.
"Put him there," Bant said to the three carrying Obi-Wan. Qui was released to stagger into a chair as his Master was laid on their bed. Someone handed the Healer her medical bag before the others filed out of the room and soon she was cleaning and treating his injuries. She glanced at Qui as the former slave leaned forward for a better look.
"He was hurt defending me," she said quietly. "Did you know that?"
Qui shook his head.
"I'm a Healer, so I don't carry a lightsaber. I had my arms full of children, and was herding the others ahead of me. The guards were shooting at us. It was all the others could do to fend off the blaster bolts. One got past them, and Obi-Wan threw himself in front of it." She smiled ruefully as she tended the injured Knight. "I'm sure he meant to catch it with his lightsaber instead of his shoulder, though."
"But, he's going to be all right, isn't he?" Qui asked as he watched her work.
"Oh, yes."
His vision was starting to gray around the edges, but he didn't realize he was swaying until Bant reached out to push him back into his chair. Her gaze held his for a moment. "You can feel everything he's feeling, can't you?" she said, seeing the tight set of pain around his eyes and knowing that only part of it was his own.
Qui nodded, though it made the throbbing in his head worse. "Yes."
Bant smiled, but to Qui it looked like a sad smile. "You have no idea what you did, do you?" she asked.
He shot her a puzzled glance. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, suddenly worried about displeasing Obi-Wan.
"Oh, your Master might think so, but I don't." She smiled slightly at the worry on his face. "Do you love Obi-Wan?"
"Oh, yes! Very, very much!"
"As a man, or as your Master?"
The question confused him, but he tried to answer. "I want to be with him always, I want to touch him and to have him touch me. I want to protect him and to hold him and to ----"
"Okay, okay," Bant said with a chuckle. "I get the picture." She pulled a sheet up over Obi-Wan's naked body. It looked strangely lumpy, draped as it was over the thick pads she had placed over the worst of his injuries. Then, she turned in her chair to take Qui's hand. "You formed a soul bond with him, Qui. That's a very special thing, a closer connection between the two of you than most people will ever share with another. It will bind you together, for all time."
Qui blinked, glancing down at his Master. "Will Obi-Wan be angry?"
"He'll be surprised, I'm sure. But, angry?" She smiled again and squeezed his hand. "He loves you, too, you know. He hasn't admitted it to himself yet, but he does." Her wide-set eyes narrowed as she sensed his injuries. "Now," she said. "Let's see to you, shall we?"
Qui let himself be guided to the bed, and sat there on the edge, his eyes on his Master and his back to the Healer. She eased the robe off his shoulders, smiling to herself as he pulled it around to cover his groin. But, her grin quickly faded as she got her first good look at his back.
"Oh, Force," she breathed. She reached up immediately to lay a gentle, flippered hand on his temple. At once, the worst of his pain eased, and Qui drew a deep, grateful breath. "They really did a number on you, didn't they?" she asked, glancing lower to see the bruising and dried blood on his buttocks. She understood the implications. Carefully, mindful of his pain, she set about cleaning the wounds and healing what she could. The rest, she applied bacta to, then she got to her feet to examine his head.
"Well, you have a pretty hard head, Qui," she said, keeping her tone light to encourage him to smile. "For which you can be grateful." She applied more bacta to the tear in his scalp, noticing that a good sized handful of hair had been ripped out by the roots. Moving around to the front, she probed gently at his cheek.
Qui grunted with pain but managed not to flinch away.
"I'm sorry," she told him, her hand settling on his shoulder. "I know that hurts, but there isn't much I can do except reduce the swelling and pain. There are some bone fragments that will have to be removed once we're back at Coruscant."
Qui's eyes widened with fear. "Will ---" He took a deep breath and tried to steady his voice. "Will it hurt?" he asked finally.
"No, Qui," Bant assured him. "You'll get to sleep through the whole thing." She stepped back, noticing the way he clutched at the robe in his lap. She knew there was more damage. "Where else are you hurting?"
Qui felt himself blush bright red. With the majority of his pain under control, he was now well aware of the bruising his genitals received from the edge of the table. "It's nothing, really," he said, not able to meet her eyes. "Just some bruises . . ."
"May I see?" she asked.
His face grew hotter still, and he drew his lower lip into his mouth and bit down on it. "It's --- embarrassing."
She smiled gently. "I know. But, I'd like to help you feel better, if you'll let me."
Qui shot a glance at his Master, but Obi-Wan was still unconscious.
"Your Master would want you to do this, I think," Bant encouraged.
With a sign, the former slave nodded. Reluctantly, he pulled the wadded up robe aside. To his relief, the Healer did not touch him, merely held her hand over his genitals. Immediately, a tingling warmth soothed away even this pain. Finally, she stepped back.
"There," she said, turning away so that he could slip back into the robe. "All done." She bend to lift one of Obi-Wan's eyelids before glancing back at Qui. "Do you feel better?" she asked him.
His head clearer and his pain almost gone, he smiled his thanks. "Yes, thank you." Then he sat forward abruptly as the link between he and Obi-Wan surged suddenly brighter.
"Master?" he called, reaching out to capture one wandering hand.
Dull blue-green eyes opened and focused slowly on him. "Qui . . ."
The former slave felt his mouth stretch into a huge smile. "I'm here, Master. You're going to be all right. Bant --- I mean, Healer Bant fixed you up!"
Obi-Wan nodded wearily. "Thirsty," he said. Immediately, Qui jumped to his feet, only wincing slightly at the movement.
"I'll bring you tea, Master!" he said. And, then he was gone, and Obi- Wan looked over at Bant.
"Is he all right?" he asked in a raspy voice.
"He was abused pretty badly," his friend told him as she sat down on the bed beside him. "But, he's fine. Or, he will be."
Obi-Wan swallowed hard. "Raped?"
Bant set her mouth in a tight, thin line and nodded. "Yes, and sodomized, unless I'm mistaken. And whipped. He has a few other injuries too --- a broken cheekbone that's going to need some work later, a slight concussion --- nothing that won't heal."
"He's --- in my head."
"I know." She stroked his cheek. "You two will have a lot to talk about when you're up to it."
Obi-Wan shifted, wincing. He peeked under the sheet at the bacta packs on his shoulder, ribs, and knee. "How bad?" he asked.
"Bad enough. But, it would have been a lot worse if Qui hadn't saved you."
Obi-Wan blinked. He felt slow and his memory was foggy, blurred by the Quietin. But he remembered enough. "My lightsaber . . ." he began. "Qui called it to him. I never taught him that." He squinted in thought. "Did I?"
Bant chuckled. "He did a lot of things that you never taught him," she said cryptically, not quite hiding a smile.
"What?"
"Later," Bant promised. She stood up. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you've been heavily dosed with Quietin. Withdrawal symptoms are going to start soon. It will be especially acute, because of the size dose you were given. It won't last as long as the children's withdrawal, though."
He made a move as if to sit up. "The children!"
"Stay down," the Calamarian Healer told him firmly, pushing his shoulders back onto the bed then rearranging the bacta packs. "They're on board, and we'll soon be on our way back to Coruscant. Master Veruntl and the others have gone back to the prison. When they're done, there won't be a prisoner left inside, and not very much of the prison left, either, I'm sure." She pulled the fallen sheet higher on his chest. "Rest, Obi-Wan. I'm going to be pretty busy with the children, but I'll check in on you from time to time." She grinned. "And I'm sure Qui will take good care of you."
She passed Qui as she stepped out of the small cabin. "He needs rest," she told him, so softly that only he could hear her. "He doesn't need to know anything about the bond yet, all right? That can wait until he's past the withdrawal stage."
Qui nodded. Truth be told, he wasn't anxious to broach the subject with his Master. He remembered Obi-Wan's reaction when Qui had first professed his love. Now this . . . He shook his head. Obi-Wan was not going to be happy.
Steeling himself, he stepped inside, carrying the tray he had brought. "Here, Master," he said as he propped Obi-Wan up on his pillow and handed him a warm cup of tea. He steadied his hand as he sipped at it.
"Mmmm, thank you, Padawan," Obi-Wan said. "That's very good."
"Good. I also made you soup --- your favorite, the one with the rice? --- and sliced fruit and ---"
"Slow down, Qui," Obi-Wan protested, smiling at his Padawan's enthusiasm. "I not hungry enough for all that."
"Maybe not," Qui said as he took the half empty cup and replaced it with the bowl of steaming soup. "But, once the withdrawal starts, you won't want to eat at all. Believe me --- I know! So, you need to eat all you can now, so you won't lose weight."
Obi-Wan chuckled softly, then winced at it pulled at his healing shoulder. He ate a spoonful of the soup, finding it just to his liking. When had Qui learned to do that? And, that brought another point to mind. "Qui," he said, gazing up at the face above him. "Back at the prison, you did something that I would never have thought you capable of. Not yet, not without a lot more training."
Qui swallowed hard, his eyes darting away. Uh oh, he thought. Here it comes. He braced himself to be scolded, or worse.
"How did you call my lightsaber to your hand and use it to kill those two guards?"
Qui's breath left him in a rush of relief. Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed at the reaction, and he hurried to answer, trying to cover his lapse. "I don't know, Master. I guess you're just a better teacher than you thought." He forced a smile.
"Hmmm." Obi-Wan sipped at his soup again, then raised his gaze to meet Qui's. "How do you feel about what happened? Killing those two men, I mean."
"I'm glad they're dead," the former slave said flatly. "They were terrible, cruel people, and they caused a lot of suffering."
"Yes," Obi-Wan said, slipping firmly into teacher mode. "But, we mustn't feel happy over their deaths. A Jedi can kill, but only as a last resort. Never for revenge, never out of spite."
"It was a last resort, Master!" Qui protested. "They were going to hurt you! They were going to rape you!"
"Like they raped you?" Obi-Wan asked softly, his eyes holding Qui's.
The older man bit his lip and nodded silently. "But, I'm all right. Really! It's not like it hadn't happened before." He quickly changed the subject. "What were they going to do with the children, Master?"
Obi-Wan popped a slice of fruit into his mouth and ate it before answering. "They were preparing to turn them all to the Dark Side," he said, his eyes narrowing at the thought. "They had kept those poor young ones in that cold, damp, sunless basement ---" His hand reached out and caught Qui's forearm, squeezing it in sympathetic memory of the years the former slave had spent there. "And they kept them drugged so they couldn't try to escape. Whoever the ring-leader is wanted the children badly, probably to add to his own forces when they're older."
A shudder ran through Qui. He understood all too well how those children had suffered. "Will they be all right?" he asked.
"Yes, Qui." Obi-Wan smiled. "Thanks to your vision, we got to them in time." He finished up his meal and set the plate aside. He surveyed his Padawan carefully. "You look as bad as I feel," he said at length. He scooted over in the bed, wincing at the movement. "Come," he said, patting the mattress beside him. "Let's rest awhile. I think we both deserve it."
Qui grinned and complied, lying down with his chest just touching his Master's naked side, the thin sheet drawn up over both of them. He sighed contentedly as Obi-Wan's arm slid under his neck and encircled his shoulders. Oh, yes. This felt right. He listened as the Knight's breathing slowed and evened out. Only then did he indulge himself by squirming in closer. Under his exploring hand, he could feel the strong muscles of Obi-Wan's chest, the flatness of his stomach. He could even feel, when he slid one thigh across his Master, the gentle swell of his manhood, nestled there in soft, short hair.
A wave of something Qui didn't recognize swept over him, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to reach over for his Master's mouth and kiss him again. The first time had been a disaster, that much was certain. But Qui still remembered the softness of Obi-Wan's lips, the warmth of his breath. He longed to repeat the gesture, but for longer this time. He felt himself growing hard and tweaked open the front of his robe to look.
He'd had erections before, of course, but never one brought on by the proximity of another person. Timidly, he reached down to trail one finger lightly up his length, feeling the scorching heat of his Master's body against it and imagining that it was Obi-Wan's hand touching him. With a suddenness that surprised him, he erupted, shooting a stream of whitish come across the Knight's chest. He gasped, stifling the sound quickly lest he awaken the man who was now softly snoring against him.
He felt wonderful! Sated and yet still needy, full of hope at what could be and yet full of doubts, too. Would Obi-Wan ever want him like this, ever touch him this way, ever kiss him like one lover kisses another? Was Bant right? Did his Master love him as more than a Padawan?
He used the hem of his robe to wipe up the mess, then snuggled deeper into his Master's arms. Smiling, his face tucked into the shimmering mass of Obi-Wan's hair, Qui let himself succumb to slumber.
It was a moan that finally awakened him. He came up onto one elbow to look down at his Master's face. It was covered with a sheen of sweat, twisted in pain. Urgently, Qui reached out along their link --- and moaned himself as his own stomach cramped and clinched within him.
"Oh, Master," he said, his voice little more than a sigh. He reached up to stroke the young Knight's face in what was more caress than mere touch. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this." He shifted on the bed, moving so that his healing back was against the headboard. He drew Obi-Wan up between his legs, cradling the Knight's back against his chest. Tucking Obi-Wan's head beneath his chin, he pulled the sheet back up.
Through their deepened bond, Qui suffered through everything his Master felt. But, he also shared the cramping and nausea and chills of the twenty-eight children on board. He did his best to shut them out of his mind, however, knowing that Bant and the other Jedi were caring for them. Right now, Obi-Wan needed his full attention.
"Shhh," he said, rubbing Obi-Wan's stomach with one hand and reaching out through the Force to try to ease some of his pain. He remembered how comforting his Master's warmth and compassion had been while he'd gone through this. He pulled the blanket higher, tucking it in, and talked softly to him. "All will be well," he said, quoting his Master's own words back to him. "All will be well soon."
The vomiting began shortly after. Having nothing to catch it in, and not wanting to move Obi-Wan because of his injuries, Qui stripped off one of the fabric coverings from the bed pillows. It made a satisfactory --- if soggy --- receptacle. When it was finished, Qui dropped the sodden mess beside the bed and carefully replaced the bacta packs. Damp with sweat and less than conscious, Obi-Wan sprawled limply in Qui's arms.
"I'm here, Master," Qui soothed as the Knight shifted restlessly in his fever dreams. He pulled up the fallen sheet, but Obi-Wan fought it. After the first few tries, Qui relented, leaving it draped loosely across their hips and legs. He allowed himself to examine the bare chest in front of him. There was a light scattering of cinnamon colored hair across the center and the nipples were plum-colored and looked as soft as silk. Shyly, he reached out to stroke one, and marveled as it drew up into a hard, tight peak. Feeling daring, he ran his finger through the hair, finding it coarser than he had imagined.
Driven by curiosity, Qui slid the sheet down a little further. Nestled atop lightly furred balls was his Master's cock. Even flaccid, it was impressive and Qui longed to touch it. Checking through their bond to make certain his Master was unaware of his activities, he laid his hand over it. It was warm and incredibly soft, and it twitched in response. Qui jerked his hand as if he'd been burned, watching wide-eyed as it began to slowly fill and lift.
Embarrassed and afraid of being caught, he quickly drew the sheet back up. He couldn't tear his gaze away, however, from the growing bulge under the thin fabric. He bit his lower lip. He wanted this man so badly, loved him so much. Sternly, he pushed his feelings aside. It was not proper, Obi-Wan had told him. Masters and Padawans did not become lovers. Besides, his Master probably did not share his feelings, and would likely scold him for even considering such a joining.
A hoarse shout from Obi-Wan announced the beginning of the hallucinations. The young Knight writhed through them, crying out and thrashing in Qui's hold. Gently but firmly, he was restrained.
"Shhh," Qui soothed, using his legs as well as his arms to encircle Obi-Wan and hold him steady. He had to be careful of his wounds, not wanting to dislodge the bacta packs or to cause his Master further pain. With one hand, he pulled Obi-Wan's head back against his chest, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Shhh. I'm here and everything will be fine. Soon, this will pass."
Fortunately, it did pass quickly. The one dose of Quietin that Obi- Wan had been given, although a large one, did not cause the drawn out withdrawal symptoms that Qui had suffered through, and through which the children were still suffering. Still, it was well into the ship's night when the Knight finally relaxed in his Padawan's hold, slipping down into true slumber.
Only then did Qui ease his Master out of his lap and take his own rest.
Qui awoke sometime later at a movement in the bed beside him. He came up on one elbow and was looking down into Obi-Wan's face when the blue-green eyes finally opened and focused.
"How are you feeling?" Qui asked, reaching to feel his Master's forehead, relieved when he found his temperature to be normal.
"Better," Obi-Wan said. He tried to sit up and winced.
"Better, yes," Qui said, lifting him slightly so that he could push an extra pillow behind his shoulders. "But, not well yet."
"No, not yet," Obi-Wan agreed. He searched his Padawan's face, then reached out and took his hand, squeezing it firmly. "Qui, I failed you, and I'm sorry."
"Failed me, Master?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "I know you were raped. And I promised I'd never let anyone hurt you like that again." His eyes widened, then narrowed in disapproval. "Speaking of which, I distinctly remember ordering you to stay in the ship." His eyes widened again. "And, I locked the hatch! How did you . . .?"
Qui had the good grace to look repentant. "I did stay aboard, Master! For a time. But then --- well, I felt you get hurt and I knew you needed me and so I ---" He broke off, calming his voice by force of will. "I just concentrated real hard on opening the door, and it opened." He bowed his head, unable to meet the stormy blue-green gaze any longer. "I'm sorry I disobeyed, my Master."
"Yes." Obi-Wan sighed. "Well, since you haven't officially taken your vow of obedience to me --- a fact I intend to remedy as soon as we're back on Coruscant, by the way --- I won't punish you. But, the next time you disobey me, Padawan, I may have to turn you over my knee!"
Qui couldn't help it: he chuckled as that image formed in his mind. But, his good humor quickly faded as he felt Obi-Wan reach out along their strengthened link.
"Something is very different," the Knight said, tilting his head as he stared at Qui. The older man swallowed nervously, then looked up in relief as soft footsteps and the smell of salt water announced Bant's arrival.
"Good morning," Bant said as she sat down on the bed and began examining Obi-Wan. She laid a flippered hand over the young Knight's temple, gauging his condition. "I'm glad to see that you're through the worst of it."
Obi-Wan nodded. "How are the children?" he asked.
"Having a pretty rough time of it," Bant admitted. Her gaze flickered to Qui. "As I'm sure you and your Padawan understand. Unfortunately, there's not much to be done other that to wait it out." She carefully lifted the bacta pack off the blaster wound in his shoulder. "This is looking better." She dropped the pack to the floor, wrinkling up her nose as it hit the pillowcase full of vomit and released a cloud of stench. "One thing's for certain --- the ship is going to need to be fumigated when we reach Coruscant."
"When will that be?" Obi-Wan asked, having lost all track of time.
"Not for another three days," Bant said, her voice distracted as she studied his injured knee. "Hmmm, this isn't healing as well as I'd like." She removed the bacta pack and cupped her hands around the joint, diffusing it with gentle, healing warmth. Then, she looked up at Qui. "Have you discussed it, yet?" she asked softly.
Qui felt his face flush hotly. He shook his head. "No."
Obi-Wan was looking back and forth from one to the other. "Discussed what?" he asked suspiciously. "Has something happened that I should know about?"
Bant giggled. "Oh, you could say that." She released his knee and sat back. "Remember how you told me that you could feel Qui in your head?"
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Yes."
"Take a moment to examine that feeling," she advised. "Does it feel different from your training bond?"
The Knight's focus dulled as he turned his attention inward. Then, his eyes widened and he looked up at Qui in horrified amazement. "What have you done?" he almost growled.
Qui ducked his head, unable to meet his Master's eyes, and Bant gave Obi-Wan a resounding swat across his thigh.
"Ow!" he yelped, turning the full intensity of his gaze on her. "What was that for?"
"Qui hasn't done anything," she said, ignoring both his question and his glare. "Nothing, that is, except for saving your life! How was he supposed to know that he initiated a soul bond?"
The blue-green eyes went wide. "Soul bond?" Obi-Wan echoed disbelievingly. He buried his face in his hands. "Now, what are we going to do?" he moaned.
"Well," Bant said as she got to her feet, "the usual procedure is to consummate it."
If possible, Obi-Wan's eyes were even rounder when he jerked his hands away. "Consummate it?" he almost gasped. "But, I --- we --- it's not - oh, Force."
Qui could hold his silence no longer. "Master, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do something that you don't want. But --- I love you."
Obi-Wan didn't so much as acknowledge that he'd spoken. Instead, his gaze remained on Bant. "What will happen if we don't consummate it? Will it eventually go away?"
Bant shot a sympathetic look up at Qui before answering. "Yes, it will fade in time if it's never completed. But, are you sure that's the way you want to handle it?"
"There's no other way to handle it," Obi-Wan said firmly. Now, finally, he turned his eyes up to meet Qui's. "I'm sorry, Padawan. But a soul bond between us isn't possible. You becoming a Jedi is too important."
Not more important than you, Qui wanted to tell him. But, he held his tongue and merely nodded.
"Now, enough fussing over me," Obi-Wan said, clearly dismissing the matter. "Qui, I'm sure Bant and the others could use some help with the children. And I'm well enough that I don't need you hovering." When the older man made no move to get up, Obi-Wan made a little shooing motion with his hand. "Go on. There's a whole ship full of sick kids that need you more than I do."
Drawing his robe around him, Qui climbed out of bed, struggling not to let his broken heart show.
The next three days were spent caring for the children and his Master, although once Obi-Wan was back on his feet he refused to be coddled. He also refused to discuss the subject of the soul bond. Even now, Qui could feel it fading.
He forced himself not to argue, not wishing to displease Obi-Wan even further. But, it felt as if a part of him was dying, a part that had just learned what it was to live.
Eventually, they arrived on Coruscant. After hauling the two of them into the Healer's Wing to have their injuries checked and the bone in Qui's cheek regenerated, they were sent off to their quarters with orders to keep physical activity to a minimum for the next several days. So, they worked instead on Qui's reading lessons, and Obi-Wan helped him to memorize the vows they would soon be taking, vows that would officially make them Master and Padawan.
Although he said nothing about it to his Master, Qui began to have doubts about being a Padawan. Perhaps, if he were just a man and not an Apprentice, Obi-Wan would be free to love him. Qui's heart ached with a loneliness he hadn't felt since his days of being a slave. His Master was still attentive and pleasant, but his shields were firmly raised, blocking Qui out of all but the most essential part of their training bond. It was like a wall had closed between them, a wall that Qui couldn't penetrate.
"Are you dressed yet, Padawan?" Obi-Wan called from the next room.
"Nearly, Master," Qui responded, shoving his feet into the new boots his Master had acquired for him. They were just as stiff and uncomfortable as the other ones, the ones he had lost at the prison.
"Well, hurry. We don't want to keep Master Veruntl and the others waiting."
"Yes, Master."
It was a long walk to what had been the Council Chambers. Waiting for them was Master Veruntl, Healers. Healers Bant and Vortrela and Knight Chun.
Obi-Wan stood solemnly before the four. "I wish to formally take Qui as my Padawan Learner."
Master Veruntl nodded. He turned to Qui. "Wish you this also, Qui?" he asked.
Qui swallowed hard, forcing his doubts from his mind. "Yes," he said, holding himself straight and tall. The Master's eyes narrowed slightly. "I sense that you have doubts," he said, shattering Qui's illusion of having hidden his feelings.
"It is a new beginning for me," Qui said, struggling to put his thoughts into words. "But, I do wish to be a Jedi, and to take my vows of obedience to my Master."
Veruntl nodded, apparently satisfied. "Kneel then," he instructed.
Both Obi-Wan and Qui obeyed, and he reached out to lay a hand of each of their heads. "With the Force as your witness, Knight Kenobi, do you take this man Qui as your Padawan, swearing to protect him and cherish him and teach him in all things?"
"I do, Master."
"Qui, with the Force as your witness, do you take Knight Kenobi as your Master, and vow to follow him, serve him, and obey him in all things?"
"I do, Master."
"Then, lower your shields," the Master ordered. "Those assembled would examine your bond."
Qui had been told to expect this, but the thought of allowing the four before him to see into his mind sent a shiver of fear through him. A wave of comfort and support reached him from Obi-Wan, and he breathed out his concerns, opening himself as best he could. He felt them, then, felt their thoughts like fingers sifting through his memories. He trembled, shaken to his core, but he managed not to flinch away. Finally, it was done.
Master Veruntl released them and stepped back. "We welcome the newest Jedi Padawan," he said, the barest hint of a smile on his face. "May the Force be with you both."
"Is that it?" Qui said when the others had trickled out of the Council Chambers and he and Obi-Wan had gotten to their feet.
"Almost," Obi-Wan said. "There is still the matter of your haircut."
Qui's hands rose immediately to his ragged hair. "I thought you wanted me to grow it out," he said in surprise.
Obi-Wan smiled. "All things in time, Qui. First, you will wear the traditional haircut of the human Padawan." He gestured toward the door. "Come. Let's go back to our quarters and we'll take care of it now."
A few minutes later, Qui was being steered into a chair facing of a full-length mirror. Obi-Wan stepped up behind him with a comb and scissors. Carefully, he separated out a small section of hair behind Qui's right ear. "Hold this," he instructed.
Qui watched, fascinated, as Obi-Wan clipped his hair even shorter than it already was, leaving only the section that Qui held and a slightly larger section in back. "This," he said as he pulled the back part together and banded it near Qui's scalp, "is the Padawan's tail." He tugged on it and grinned. "Very useful should I need to get your attention."
Qui grinned back. His eyes followed Obi-Wan in the mirror as the Knight stepped to Qui's shoulder and began to separate the second section into thirds. "This," he said as he began to braid them together, "is your Padawan braid. It is a symbol to all that you have sworn obedience to me as your teacher." He left the last inch or so unbraided, then reached to lift Qui's hand. "Hold this for a moment, please," he said. He reached into his belt pouch.
"This was mine," he said as he pulled out a long, cinnamon-colored braid tied off at both ends with thin leather bands. "My Master cut it for me on the day I was Knighted." He released the tie at one end, rebound it a few inches lower, watching as the loosened part slowly unwound itself. Taking the scissors, he carefully cut off the unbraided section and pressed one end of it to the bottom of Qui's braid.
"My Master couldn't do this for me," he said with a fond smile, "not having sufficient hair for a braid of his own. But ---" He drew on the Force, focusing it on the hair he held in his hands. Qui felt it swirl around him and finally concentrate in his braid. "I give to you, my Padawan, a part of myself. My Padawan braid now forms the beginning of yours. Like our connection in the Force, so shall it be for all your life." That said, he braided the rest of the hair, tying it off at the end with another thin leather band.
"There," he said, ruffling the short hair on top of Qui's head. "Now you look like a Padawan."
"Thank you, Master!" Qui rose and threw his arms around his Master, his heart bursting with pride and love.
But Obi-Wan stiffened in his hold and stepped away. "The Healers have given us permission to resume 'saber training, Qui," he said in a detached voice that left Qui feeling cold. "I have some things to do. Go ahead and eat without me. Then, I want you to go to bed early so you'll be rested."
"You're leaving, Master?" Qui asked, afraid that he was driving his Master away.
"Yes," he said as he turned away. His shields were once again firmly in place and Qui couldn't read him. "Don't wait up for me. I may be quite late."
With no further explanation, Obi-Wan left him alone.
Force, what am I going to do? Obi-Wan wondered. His feelings for Qui had grown over the past few days, deepened in such a way that he knew he loved the man, loved him with all of his heart. But, what now? It would be years before Qui was Knighted, years before such a relationship would be proper and accepted. Now, while Qui was bound by his Padawan vows, it felt like a violation. How could he, in all good conscious, establish a physical relationship with someone who was sworn to obey him in all things? How could he ever know that it was truly what Qui wanted?
The soul bond was fraying, wearing away into ragged tatters in his mind. But, it was better this way, wasn't it? Wouldn't it be best for all concerned to wait until they could come together as equals?
For long hours, Obi-Wan sought the answers to his questions. First, he tried to meditate, going to his favorite secluded corner in the Garden of a Thousand Fountains. When that failed, he took to walking the halls, even going so far as to climb the endless stairs to one of the highest of the Temple's towers. The view from there was breathtaking, but did not settle his unrest. Finally, in desperation, he went to the one person he knew might be able to help.
He rang the door buzzer and waited.
Minutes passed before a sleep-blurred Mon Calamarian appeared at the door. She blinked up at him. "Force, Obi-Wan, do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Sorry, Bant," he said as he slipped past her into her quarters. It was moist in here, like a tropical forest, with a single blue-white light overhead that looked like nothing less than a planetary moon. One whole corner of the main room was filled up with a natural looking pond, complete with gentle waves and floating water plants. "Thanks for letting me in. I ---" He sighed. "I need some advice."
"Sure." She sat down on a rather hard bench near the pool and motioned him to join her. "What's the problem?"
"He hasn't said as much, but I think Qui still wants to be more than Padawan and Master."
"But, you don't?" Bant asked, stirring one flippered toe in the edge of the water and releasing a salty scent into the room.
"It's not that," Obi-Wan answered.
"Do you love him?"
The young Knight didn't even have to search his heart to answer that one. "More than anything."
"Then, what's the problem?" Band asked him again.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I guess I'm afraid."
That got her attention. She turned and pegged him with a look. "Of what?"
Obi-Wan tore his gaze away and shrugged dismally.
"Are you afraid that if you two become lovers that you will lose Qui's respect?" Bant asked.
"No."
"Are you afraid that if you become lovers you'll be unable to teach him?"
"No, not really."
"Are you afraid that if you become lovers he'll cease to obey you?"
"No! It's not that either."
"Then, what?" she asked in exasperation.
Obi-Wan leaned forward and dropped his face into his hands. "I'm afraid I'll care too much," he admitted finally. "I'm afraid that I'll put Qui before my duty, before the Order."
"Do you really think that?"
"No," he said, his voice barely audible.
"Neither do I." She raised his chin so that their eyes met again. "So, Knight Kenobi, what are you waiting for?"
Obi-Wan offered her a weary smile. "You always make things seem so simple."
"Oh, no," she said. "Love is never simple." She stood up, drawing Obi- Wan to his feet as well. "Go to him. Now, before you think up any more reasons not to."
His wan smile became a grin. "Yes, ma'am," he said.
(TO BE CONTINUED)