Master Apprentice
Archive
The Padawan's Whore
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Rating: NC-17
Posted: 23 December, 1999
Summary: l've heard quite a few complaints about the title, so let me assure you, this is actually a very sweet and mushy story.
I cannot say for certain when my feelings for my apprentice underwent such a significant shift, though I can pinpoint with complete accuracy the precise moment I first became aware of the shift.
We were at a grand gala at the Kreetaa Embassy on Coruscant, celebrating the signing of the Treaty of Alderaan. The ballroom was huge and crowded, the food and music excellent. Kreetaans, though human, are a very tall race, averaging seven feet tall. The petite young woman dancing with Obi-Wan was three inches taller than I, yet he guided her around the dance floor with admirable aplomb. I sipped my drink and watched him proudly. Not quite twenty and the boy was already a promising diplomat. He genuinely liked people and that was apparent to them, causing them to like him in return.
But now the two turned in their movement and I saw his face, smiling up at Lady Maarlee. And I felt a sudden sharp stab of an emotion so unfamiliar that it took me several seconds to recognize it as jealousy.
Perturbed by the strange sensation, I turned back to the buffet, frowning thoughtfully as if wondering if I still had room for more of the jellied eel. I did not wish to be disturbed until I had analyzed this thoroughly.
Jealous. Of Obi-Wan? No, of Lady Maarlee. Hmm. Did I wish to be the one dancing with Obi-Wan? Yes, indeed. Well, why is that?
I moved slowly toward the long glass doors which opened onto the balcony. What if I were dancing with Obi-Wan? I pictured it in my mind, the two of us moving and twirling as he smiled up at me, and how it would feel. I rather imagined I would dance him through these doors and out onto the balcony. I stepped onto the balcony and looked around.
And once on the balcony, I suspected that I would move us over to one of the shadowy niches, where I could press his back against the wall and lean down and taste his lips. And I would keep on kissing him until I had stolen his breath quite away, leaving him weak and gasping and able only to cling to me, pressing the entire length of his body against my own.
Well, then. The answer was unmistakable. My fatherly-mentorly love for my Padawan had become mingled with physical desire.
I say mingled, rather than tainted or corrupted. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with physical desire. It is a natural, indeed inescapable, fact of life. What one does with the desire, though, that could be another matter.
I meditated long that evening before retiring. And I determined that as long as my love and desire were kept strictly to myself and not allowed to interfere with my Padawan's future, my feelings were no offense to the Light.
In fact, it might be said that my new perspective caused me to see things that had escaped me before. And within several weeks I became both curious and a bit concerned about Obi-Wan's social life.
Because it seemed that he had none. He was always in my company or in classes or helping the other Temple Masters. He was a bright and happy young man and it must have been a blindness in me that it hadn't occurred to me before.
I wondered if I was going to have to have The Talk with him, the one about physical desire and urges. Odd that he had reached the threshold of twenty without the subject being broached.
Unfortunately, I had no previous experience with The Talk to refer to. My first Padawan, Loothon, had fallen easily into clumsy flirtations with others his age and I could watch from a distance and offer vague advice, before he finally settled down with a lovely tavern keeper fifteen years his senior. As for Xanatos, he had found the professional ladies of Coruscant years before it would have occurred to me that he would be interested in such a thing.
The point is, my other Padawans had found outlets for their natural physical urges. And it seemed that Obi-Wan had not.
It further seemed that the lack was beginning to disturb him. Lately something was disturbing him, certainly. He was restless and developed a moodiness unlike his normal sunny personality. I felt that The Talk must be performed, however unready for it I felt myself to be.
Fortunately, a mission called us to Fornalhaus. A temperate world of mild-mannered people, I'd been there many times before.
So on the ship transporting us to our new assignment, I took a deep breath and began.
"Obi-Wan?"
We were in our small cabin, and he stopped his unpacking to turn to me. "Yes, Master," he inquired respectfully.
"Come and sit," I suggested. "We should talk."
He sat and folded his hands and waited.
"Obi-Wan, you will soon be twenty," I told him.
He nodded, mystified.
I tried again. "People have natural physical urges," I began.
Now he knew what our topic was and blushed a fiery red. "Yes, Master," he whispered.
"It is nothing to be ashamed of," I assured him. "But an outlet needs to be found for these urges."
He lowered his eyes and stared at his hands. Then he raised one hand and looked up quickly with a slight smile and lowered his eyes again.
"Your outlet?" I asked softly.
He nodded and blushed again.
"I'm concerned about what appears to me to be a lack of a social life," I told him.
"I see people," he said, so faint I could barely hear him.
"Yes, you do, in groups. Obi-Wan, have you ever been on a date?"
He shook his head.
"Why not?"
Now he shrugged. "Don't know," he admitted.
I leaned forward. "When young people do nothing to relieve their natural urges, it can have unfortunate consequences."
He looked up, alarmed. "You mean, like I could get sick or something?" he asked.
"No," I assured him. "It's just that..." I pondered my wording. "Many Jedi live rather ascetic lives," I explained. "This is difficult for the younger people and it can cause confusion. I've often seen young knights with little experience wind up making disastrous mating choices, due to their confusing their physical urges with actual love."
"You mean they marry badly because they're horny and desperate?" Obi-Wan asked.
"In a word, yes."
There was a long pause. "Well, then what should I do?" Obi-Wan asked, looking rather abashed.
"There are other outlets besides marriage, or relieving yourself," I told him. "There are people who are not seeking a permanent commitment and there are also professionals to assist you in releasing your urges."
My Padawan's eyes widened. "You're talking about prostitutes, aren't you?"
I nodded.
"Are you suggesting, recommending..." He was too astonished to continue.
"When the alternative is the restlessness I've seen in you lately, or to have you race headlong into a disastrous entanglement, sex professionals become a reasonable course of action," I said. I stood up, wanting out of this conversation. "It's something to consider. On Fornalhaus, for example, the sensuality district is quite well-regulated and not too outre or alarming."
Obi-Wan seemed as glad as I that the conversation was concluding. "Something to think about," he agreed.
Our mission was a mundane one, dealing with tariffs and trade. Certainly not the sort of disagreement that could lead to hostilities. Negotiations went smoothly and within several days, I could see that another week of dull meetings would see the matter resolved.
After dinner on the third evening of our stay, Obi-Wan entered the living area of our borrowed suite. He was wearing blue pants and a soft blue shirt, not Jedi attire, and was slinging a short black cloak over his shoulders.
I looked up from the desk where I had been reading and raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"I thought I'd go into town and... look around," Obi-Wan said.
"Of course," I answered. We both knew why he was going to town, but there was no need to mention it.
After Obi-Wan had left, I sat for some moments staring unseeing at the book in front of me. I began to second-guess myself. Was this really a good idea?
Had my advice been sound?
After all, it had been a decade since I was last on Fornalhaus, and over three decades since I'd been in the district he was seeking. What if my information was outdated? What if in the interim, the district had become rough and dangerous? Had I unwittingly sent my Padawan into danger?
That thought was enough to rouse me from my chair. And I followed him.
The pleasure district of Fornalhaus was just as I remembered it. Located around a square in the south part of the capital, it was a far remove from the raucous districts of other localities. Good looking young men and women moved decorously about, approaching visitors and whispering their offers.
Keeping my distance, I watched Obi-Wan work his way around the square, alternatively window-shopping and looking curiously at the district natives gently plying their trade. He watched as a young woman approached a middle-aged gentleman, murmured something, and then left the square with her arm tucked into his.
Quite a few people of both sexes approached my Padawan and I held my breath each time, wishing I were closer so I could determine if this one was worthy of him. But each time he smiled and shook his head and they moved on.
And then came the offer that he didn't shake away. He was approached by a tall man with long dark hair, and after a moment's hesitation Obi-Wan nodded and followed the man.
I followed after. They had turned into an alley and were at the steps of a building that I knew to be one of the short-term hotels that served the area. The man turned to Obi-Wan and pulled him into an embrace, leaning down to kiss him. I clenched my fists in white-knuckled suspense, reminding myself sternly that I was not to interfere.
But then Obi-Wan pulled back, breaking the kiss and placing his hands on the man's chest, shaking his head sadly. He said something that I couldn't hear, gave the man a coin, and turned away.
The man followed, seemed to be urging him to reconsider. He shook his head again. The man then tried to give the coin back, but now they were close enough that I could hear Obi-Wan say, "No, that's all right. You keep it, since I'm breaking the deal and it's no fault on your part."
And he returned to the square, with the man staring regretfully after him.
I must have gone mad at this point, but the fact that it had been a man that Obi-Wan almost chose seemed to infect my brain with wildness. I hurried to the side street and entered one of the hotels. Within minutes I was back on the square, engulfed in a green cloak and with a room key in my pocket.
I prayed that I was not too late. But no, there he was, looking in a shop window. I could see from his expression that my dear Padawan had no concept of the uses of the vast majority of the sex toys displayed in the window.
I took a deep calming breath and came up behind him. Affecting a lower-class Fornalhaus accent, I said, "I can help with what you need, sir."
Obi-Wan turned, startled. "Help with what?" he asked.
My hood was deep and I could see he didn't recognize me. Our cloaks provided us shelter from prying eyes as I reached between us and placed my hand on his crotch. His cock seemed to leap into my hand gladly and I chuckled.
"What this, sir. I can help you with this."
There was a long pause, long enough for me to wonder what I was getting us both into. Then he nodded, and I said, "I have a room." He followed me from the square.
Part II
As the door closed behind us he turned to me and reached for my cloak. I took a step backward, shaking my head.
Obi-Wan was puzzled. "What should I do?" he asked.
I pointed to a chair in the corner, and he went to it and sat down. He shivered a bit but I could see the excitement in his eyes. I think he rather liked the hooded cloak; anonymous sex was what he was seeking, after all.
I went to him and knelt down, parting his knees with my hands and burying my face in his lap. For a long moment, I just nuzzled him through the cloth. Above me I heard a soft sigh and stole a peek upward. His head was thrown back on the headrest and his eyes were closed.
Beautiful. My Padawan was so beautiful.
Now I reached to his waist and unfastened his trousers. I pulled on the waistband and he raised his hips, allowing me to lower his trousers and free his cock from confinement. I schooled my hands not to tremble but was thankful for Obi-Wan's naivete. A true professional would certainly never approach his business with the reverence I was feeling now.
Leaning forward, I gently kissed the soft inside of his thigh and stroked his cock with a feather-light touch. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the male scent of him, and ran my cheek across his genitals. He gasped and murmured, "Oh, yes." After a moment he added, as if to himself, "I like a man with a beard."
Now I applied my tongue, running just the tip of it along the underside of his cock, from base to tip. He almost surged out of the chair and gave a strangled cry. Oh, yes, he needed this badly. Finally I gave in to the urge to take the tip into my mouth.
He let me take the lead and I was glad of it, happy to serve my adored one and give him something that he needed. I took my time, first sucking hard and fast, and then backing off to gently lick his balls, wanting the experience to last a long time.
I brought him to the brink again and again, but could not bring myself to finish, not wanting this to end. But he was pleading now, and I had just determined to bring him to completion when the pleading stopped and Obi-Wan was suddenly still.
I froze, too, and realized that Obi-Wan had reached out to me and my hood had fallen back.
I looked up and met his eyes. What did I see there?
Simple astonishment. Any censure or blame, if it came, would be later.
He asked only, "Why?"
"You need this," I told him. We held eye-contact for a long moment. "Should I stop?" I asked him.
He shook his head in a rather shamefaced manner and let his head drop back, yielding to me. I lowered my head again and took him once more into my mouth, and when he came it was my name he shouted. I came as well, though silently.
I lay my head on his leg and closed my eyes, listening as his breathing and heartrate gradually returned to normal. Then I looked up again.
"Master?" he said hesitantly. "If you'd explain...?"
I reached up and pulled him down into my arms, turning him so that his back was pressed against my chest. He reached down for his trousers, but I took his hands and stopped the motion, and began to caress his balls as I kissed him on the temple.
"I meant what I said about needing release," I told him. I had fallen back into the Master to Padawan voice. "But after you left, I was concerned about the wisdom of my counsel. While Fornalhaus is a well-regulated society, the sex districts of many worlds are dangerous places, riddled with crime and disease. It occurred to me that if you made a habit of frequenting such places, it could be dangerous to you in the long run."
His head was pressed against my shoulder and his eyes were half closed as he gave in to my soft words and soft stroking. "So what should I do?" he murmured.
"Come to me," I whispered in his ear. "When the urge becomes too powerful and distracting, come to me, and I will help you."
He nodded sleepily.
After a few more moments of silent caresses, we rose and cleaned ourselves up and returned to our suite at the embassy.
I worried that my impulsive actions had damaged our relationship, but in the morning all was as it had been and several days later we returned to Coruscant.
At the Temple, we fell back into our usual routine and I could almost wonder if I had dreamed the entire incident.
But finally, several weeks after our return came the night when Obi-Wan sought me out.
We had both retired for the night and I believe I had slept, but the sound of bare feet brought me to wakefulness. I rolled over and looked to the door. Obi-Wan stood just inside. He shifted from foot to foot, embarrassed and uncertain, but even in the dim light I could see the erection straining his sleep pants.
"Master?"
I sat up. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"
He inched a bit closer. "Remember what you said on Fornalhaus? I was wondering..."
He broke off, unable to continue.
"Come here," I said. He approached the bed. I reached out and pulled him closer, pressing my lips to his belly and reaching around him to caress his back, running my hands down to his buttocks. Then I untied the drawstring of his pants and pushed them down to puddle on the floor.
I could feel the heat of his blush and wanted to reassure him. I pulled him onto the bed, on his back beside me, and began to stroke his body.
"You don't have to ask," I whispered, "because the answer will always be yes. Just come to my bed naked, and I will give you what you need." I was pinching his nipple as I spoke and then leaned down to suckle the other. He whimpered as he nodded and said something in a strangled voice. It might have been, "Yes, Master."
From then on, Obi-Wan came to my room several nights a week. I came to appreciate my five decades of mental discipline then. I had told Obi-Wan to seek a professional or someone not interested in a long-term commitment, and so must play the part. Behind my unbreachable shields I might be the High Priest of the Church of Obi-Wan, performing my most sacred rites, but he must never be allowed to see that.
A true professional, though, would no doubt be contemptuous of my dawdling and amateurish efforts. But I reasoned that I had no other client waiting for me and no income relying on a rapid completion, and if I chose to take my time with my sole patron, that was my choice. Often, when I had brought Obi-Wan to orgasm I would continue to stroke and lick while he recovered his breath. Strong young man that he was, he would frequently become aroused again.
At first he seemed embarrassed at the occurrence, as if afraid he would be considered greedy. But I reassured him in soft tones. It was good to be sure that his urges were completely fulfilled, I told him, and his youthful vigor was nothing to be ashamed of.
I began to sleep naked to be ready for my tasks and it was impossible to hide from him that I found my service arousing. But the one time he reached for me I took his hand and shook my head. "This is for you," I told him. "Not for me." I could see he was puzzled, but he nodded and never made the approach again.
Was I rationalizing? Of course I was. But somehow, it would have felt like exploitation to let him serve me in the manner I was serving him. What the Council would have made of my subtle distinctions, I don't care to contemplate.
One night he came to my room and sat on the side of the bed. I got out of the bed and knelt on the floor, but he shook his head and urged me up beside him.
"What is it?" I asked when he hesitated.
Finally, not looking at me, he said, "I've heard of another way men please one another."
There was a long, long pause. He seemed incapable of continuing, so I suggested softly, "You're referring to penetration?"
He nodded. "Does it hurt? The person being penetrated, I mean," he asked.
"Not if performed properly," I assured him.
I went to the cupboard in the corner and returned with a jar of sweet oil from Darroony. Unstoppering the jar, I began to apply the oil to his cock. As always when he came to my room at night, he was already erect.
"Are you sure you want to?" he asked, breathing a bit faster.
"You don't have to ask - " I said.
" - because the answer will always be yes," he interrupted impatiently. "That's not what I'm asking. I know that you will. I want to know if you want to."
I took his hand and kissed it. "I want to do whatever pleases you," I told him. He made as if to speak again, so I added, "but the act can be quite pleasurable."
"So you'll enjoy it too?"
"I will," I told him calmly. Behind my shields, I was flinging myself at his feet, begging to be fucked.
"Wellllll. Okay. What am I supposed to do?"
"The key is to prepare well in advance," I told him. "Using plenty of lubrication and stretching with your fingers first."
I got on the bed and onto my hands and knees. He got behind me. I could feel his hesitancy, and sent him a reassuring mental caress. "Start with one finger, well lubricated," I told him.
"I feel silly," he murmured, but did as I instructed. The first finger entered with incredible gentleness. Following my guidance, he moved it in and out a bit and then added a finger.
I lowered myself to my elbows and couldn't suppress a heavy sigh of pleasure.
"You LIKE this?" he asked incredulously.
"Oh, yes!"
I could hear his breath quickening as he continued to stroke into me with his fingers, and I bit my lip for a moment to keep from begging, and said, "This is quite fine, any time now."
Obi-Wan gulped nervously and scooted closer behind me. I could feel him pressed against my back, and then the slow slide of his cock into my body. He was inching forward with infinite care, but I pressed back impatiently until he was fully inside me.
He gave an astonished "Oh!" and leaned over me for a moment trembling. "So tight!" he whispered. Then he began to thrust, rather clumsily at first, until he seemed to develop a rhythm and I pushed back to meet him.
I was trembling too, my shields at full strength to mask my delirious joy. It was not my first time, of course, but it felt like it. It was the first time I'd admitted Obi-Wan, which made all the difference in the galaxy.
Young as he was, I knew it couldn't last long, so I reached down and took my own erection firmly in my hand. I thrust into my fist and then back against Obi-Wan, feeling the spiral of pleasure widen and deepen, going faster and faster until we both fell into its vortex and were lost.
For a long time we rested on the bed, Obi-Wan sprawled bonelessly across my back. I cannot remember a moment in my life when I was happier.
Finally, Obi-Wan said, "Wow."
"You enjoyed that," I concluded.
Obi-Wan gave a snort of disbelief. "DID I? That was... Oh, like nothing I've ever even imagined." He rubbed his cheek on my shoulderblade and said softly, "Because I'm new at this."
As he moved off my back, I rolled over and pulled him into my arms. Kissing his forehead, I assured him that I too had gained great pleasure from the act, and would welcome him any time.
He moved then, as if to bring his lips to mine, but I turned my head slightly, receiving his kiss on my cheek instead. I knew my own limitations, and to kiss his lips without revealing the depth of my emotions was beyond me. Kiss him I could, on the throat, shoulders, chest, thighs, all caresses speaking of passion. But to press my lips to his, however much I desired it, was forbidden to me. He did not question my move, and never again made the attempt.
And so our liaisons continued, as I persisted in pretending that I was helping out my young apprentice as a temporary favor, until he gained a more permanent attachment. But even I was not fooled, and wondered where this would all end as I felt him stealing my heart away bit by bit. And Obi-Wan remained entirely unaware.
Part III
The sound of bare feet slapping on the floor had an artistry to it, and for once I could admire without evaluating. My apprentice was demonstrating the Fields of Fire lightsaber exercise for four members of the Council. Successful completion of Fields of Fire was necessary to advance to the next stage of lightsaber training.
He was without flaw. Call me partial, but it was true. All who use the lightsaber, almost without exception, have a weakness. It may be strength or speed or grace. All who pass the tests will have one or more areas where 'needs work' is noted, even if the exercise itself is adequate to advance to the next stage.
But not Obi-Wan. His attack was powerful, his lunge quick, his reactions were nothing short of elegant. I crossed my arms and stood silently between Yoda and Mundi, trying not to beam. The intent expression on my Padawan's face reminded me of how he looked when engaged in sex and I forced myself not to shift uncomfortably. Other masters and knights had entered and were observing silently.
And now he was done. He landed perfectly and bowed to the Council members. Not even breathing heavily, though shining with a light film of sweat, ah, he simply glowed.
There followed a lengthy silence. Then little Yaddle, she who rarely spoke first, said loudly, "No flaw."
"It is so," agreed Yoda, and Mundi and Mace nodded concurrence.
The silence gradually yielded to a babble of sound. A Fields of Fire had not be completed flawlessly in over thirty-five years. Mace clapped me on the shoulder and said, "But then, look who trained him." The last flawless Fields of Fire had been mine.
Obi-Wan eventually detached himself from the crowd of well-wishers, and was before me, beaming.
"Well done," I told him softly.
We bowed to our friends and attained the corridor. "You should be proud of yourself," I told him. "You worked hard for this."
He laughed slightly and said, "I have to, I suppose."
I looked a question and he added, "To compensate for being such a shrimp."
I was so astonished that I couldn't help laughing out loud. He shot me a look of hurt resentment, and I put my arm around his shoulder. "I was just remembering," I told him, "how I had to work hard on Fields of Fire to compensate for being such an ox."
It was his turn to be astonished. I gave him a brief sideways hug and assured him, "You're the perfect size."
"So when you were a Padawan, you thought --" Obi-Wan began, but then broke off as we were joined by a lovely young knight.
"Hello, Obi-Wan," she said warmly. "I was quite impressed with your Fields of Fire. I tried to tell you in there, but your fan club was just too large."
I observed her silently. I recognized her, though she hadn't been on Coruscant much lately. Her name was Fheria, and she was Mace's most recent Padawan, knighted just over a year ago. She and Obi-Wan exchanged pleasantries and as we parted she was assuring him that she'd see him at dinner.
And so she did. From my seat at the Masters' table, I noticed her seated beside Obi-Wan at the table favored by the older Padawans and younger Knights. They seemed to get along quite well.
Obi-Wan did not return to his quarters until quite late that evening.
So there it was. My Padawan had a girlfriend.
I told myself this was all to the good, was in fact what I'd been hoping for. Very unconvincing stuff.
My bed was solely mine these days.
Understand that while it is not precisely forbidden for Masters and Padawans to become romantically or sexually involved, neither is it encouraged. While it happens occasionally, the practice is frowned upon. I had always believed that this was for the protection of the apprentice. Now I questioned that conclusion.
None of my distress showed in my face or in my manner. Decades of self-discipline ensured that I could continue my routine with a great show of serenity. I even listened paternally to Obi-Wan's naive raptures about Fheria, and could not truly resent her. While surely no woman was worthy of my young man, I could see no evidence of duplicity or ill-dealing in her. They both genuinely enjoyed one another's company.
I told myself again that this is the way it was supposed to be. The Will of the Force, in fact. And who was I to set my own desires above the will of the Force? Who was I but an old fool uncomfortably recovering from some spectacularly foolish delusions?
As I entered the dining hall, I saw that Obi-Wan had preceded me, and was already seated, smiling at his petite table-mate. She laughed with delight at something he said.
I noticed in myself an uncomfortable relapse into the self-consciousness of my much younger days. My shoulders seemed wider than the doorframe and my feet felt like boats. I took a seat at the Masters' table and tried to join in the conversation. I had barely begun my meal, however, when I felt a sharp sting across my back. Though it had been decades, the blow has a familiar feel.
I turned in my seat, and sure enough, there was Master Yoda, leaning on his stick and glaring up at me. "Slouch you will not!" he told me. "Represent the Jedi, you do. In only forty years, forgotten your lessons, have you?"
I straightened up and stifled a laugh. "My apologies, Master," I told him with the utmost respect.
The others at the table chuckled, and Yoda chuckled too, scrambling up to his seat. But when he looked at me, I thought I saw a trace of pity in those wise old eyes.
I continued with my dinner, reflecting that I really was in a bad way if I'd reverted to my pre-Padawan slouch. As a youngster, I'd been extremely self-conscious about my size. A head taller than my year mates, I was certain none of the Masters would want me as a Padawan, as big and clumsy as I was. So it came as a shock when I was chosen, before my eleventh birthday, by Master Yoda himself. "I must move quickly, before permanent that slouch becomes," he informed me.
Though thrilled by the honor, I was also terrified, certain I would break the tiny ancient in our training exercises. But the first time on the practice field, Master Yoda threw me across the arena several times in rapid succession and proceeded to drill me on the precept that Size Matters Not. "Stand up straight, and Jedi you appear!" he had insisted.
Amazing to think that the habits of a lifetime could be so easily lost in the face of a cute little knight with a turned-up nose.
Meditation was obviously called for.
"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice sounded concerned.
I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in the Temple gardens, where I had repaired after dinner, and had been in meditation ever since. Long had I searched my soul. What sort of Master was I that my Padawan's happiness caused me pain? I offered my love up to the Force, and sought peace in return. And a certain measure of peace had been granted to me.
I saw by the progress of the moons through the sky that it was long after midnight. Had Obi-Wan come looking for me?
"What is it, Padawan?" I asked.
"It's late," he said hesitantly. "I was just returning to our quarters through the gardens, and wondered if you were all right."
"Of course I'm all right," I told him with a Master's sternness. Now I saw that he was looking rather tousled. Come from the Knights' tower, I presumed. I stood up and then almost fell. My knees were stiff from so long in one posture and were reluctant to move easily.
Obi-Wan was instantly at my side, a hand to my elbow. "What IS it, Master?" he asked worriedly.
"Nothing!" I snapped. "Just stiff. Getting old."
"Don't say that!" Obi-Wan answered indignantly.
We returned to our quarters together and Obi-Wan stayed quite close beside me, ready to assist his decrepit Master, I suppose. I felt older than Master Yoda.
Well, face it. I was old. At least, too old for a youth of barely twenty. Too old, too big, and definitely too male. I recognized a self-pity attack coming on, and laughed at it silently. My hair was going gray, my nose had been broken more than once, oh yes, I was altogether a thoroughly pathetic case.
Back in our quarters, Obi-Wan bustled about preparing a soothing herbal tea. I admired his grace and quickness and adored his kind heart. In my long sojourn in the garden, I had banished hope and was now content to love silently with no thought of return.
And so things might have remained. I imagined myself going to my pyre with an old and cherished padawan braid clasped to my heart.
But circumstances intervened.
It was several weeks later when Obi-Wan returned to our quarters earlier than usual. His face was expressionless, but I could see the strain in his eyes, the lips pressed close.
"Obi-Wan?" I asked.
He looked up at me and said, "Oh. Fheria is leaving the Temple. Going to the Senate Intelligence Agency on a three year assignment."
I put aside my book and patted the seat beside me on the sofa. He sat down beside me in a dejected slump. "You can still see one another, surely," I said.
"No, we can't," Obi-Wan said glumly. "She explained it all to me. The job is going to involve undercover assignments, and they want someone with no significant attachments, someone willing to break all ties for the whole period and take on a new identity."
"I see," I said. And I did see. No significant attachments! Poor Obi-Wan!
I tried to look on the bright side for him. "Well, Padawan, three years seems like a long time at your age, but it really will pass. And then you can see Fheria again --"
He interrupted me. "She said not to wait. That... she wasn't going to." He wouldn't look at me but stared down at his hands clasped in his lap.
"Oh." I had no soothing words for that.
We sat in silence for a long time. Then Obi-Wan said, "She said that it had been special. But not THAT special."
Bitch!
I put my arms around him, and he subsided onto my chest. He didn't cry, just stayed tucked close to me for a long time. Then he gently detached himself, gave me a grateful smile, and slipped away to his own room. I sat up long that night, staring out the window, trying to strangle the wild hope struggling to break free.
It was over a week later that I awoke to the sound of bare feet entering my room. And as on the first occasion, Obi-Wan stood just inside the door, uncertainly.
I sat up in the dimness and gestured him to come closer, and he crept over to the bed and sat down. I slid my arms around him, and kissed his bare shoulder. I saw he was still wearing sleep pants, apparently not wanting to presume.
He shivered as I stroked him, and moved slightly away. "It doesn't seem right," he whispered.
"How so?" I asked, dropping my hands.
He gave a tiny shrug. "It just seems like... I'm using you, you know? For my own convenience. Just for the pleasure of it. Sort of like..."
He didn't continue, so I finished for him. "Like Fheria?" I asked.
He nodded.
Since his concern was on my account, I pulled him back into my arms and pressed him to my chest, stroking his soft short hair. "No," I assured him. "This is very different. We both understood from the beginning what this is, and there are no expectations or desires for anything more. We care for one another and both gain pleasure from this and no one is being harmed." (Liar!)
He subsided into my arms and nuzzled my neck. Behind my shields, I was singing wildly. My love had returned to me!
Part IV
We spent a long time lying on the bed in one another's arms, just stroking and nuzzling one another. Obi-Wan raised himself on one elbow and stared into my eyes, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me on the lips. And that this time I would permit it. But he lowered his head and kissed me gently on the throat.
I reached for the oil on the bedside table, where it had sat neglected for long, weary months, and pressed the bottle into his hand. He nodded wordlessly, and I rolled over while he shucked off his sleep pants. And then he was behind me, stroking into me with his fingers and I gave a luxurious sigh. Perhaps this was what I was born for, only this and it would be enough.
He moved behind me now, between my spread legs, and pressed himself inside me. I was trembling with love and passion, my shields firmly in place, wildly grateful to be taken again. At first it was rough, hard and fast, Obi-Wan seeming to be possessed by some force of wildness. But then I groaned loudly at the intense pleasure, and he stopped, resting on my back. He kissed my shoulder and murmured contritely, "Sorry."
"No!" I hastened to assure him. "You've nothing to apologize for, it's wonderful."
He began to move again, now slow and easy, as pleasurable in its own way as his former roughness, and I squirmed beneath him sighing. After a long gentle interlude his pace gradually quickened to another hard pounding, bringing me right to the brink before easing off again.
He alternated thus for what seemed ages of exquisite torture, and I was helplessly his, wanting it to end, wanting it to continue forever. Finally he moved faster and deeper and harder, not easing off this time but continuing to increase the pace and force of his thrusts until I was a sobbing wreck of neediness, pushing back against him with hysterical urgency until I felt the tightness bursting from me, and he tightened his hands on my hips as he shouted wordlessly and spilled himself inside me.
It was so good to lie here, my Padawan on my back, our bones reduced to jelly as our thundering hearts gradually quieted. I hoped he would stay for a while, hoped that I could hold him.
He was stroking me with trembling hands and pushed my sweat-soaked hair off my neck so he could kiss it. Then he kissed his way down my jaw, before whispering in my ear, "Oh, if only this were real."
My astonishment was so great that I jerked in surprise, tensing all my muscles, and Obi-Wan pulled back from me with dismay. One light touch of his fingers across my shoulders, and a murmured, "I'm sorry." And then he slid from my bed and was gone.
I rolled over and stared after him in the darkness. Real? What did he mean? What did he want from me? I feared to follow him, afraid to find out. But my padawan's skill at shielding his emotions was much more imperfect than my own, and from the next room I felt such a wave of misery that I had to go to him.
I slipped into a robe and crossed the suite, cursing myself for hurting my love so selfishly, wondering how I could make it right again.
He was in his bed, curled into a ball facing the wall. I stood inside the door and stared at his back for several moments. He knew that I was there. Finally I said, "Obi-Wan?"
A small voice asked, "Can we just pretend that didn't happen?"
"No," I answered expressionlessly. I wanted to know, I did.
He moved then, slipping from the bed with fluid grace and kneeling at my feet. Still naked and so thoroughly beautiful, he took my hands and pressed them to his forehead. "Then can you forgive me, Master?" he asked with great formality.
I moved my hands to cup his chin, tilting his face up. He turned his face away, ashamed.
"I don't understand, Padawan," I said at last. "What am I to forgive you for?"
I could sense his great embarrassment, as he mumbled, "For wanting more from you than you're willing to give."
I stood frozen, not daring to hope, and he hurried on, "It's not that I don't know better, and I've told myself over and over that you're just helping me out and not to get all emotional about it. I know I'm far too young and silly for someone like you to be interested, and I did try to stick with my own age group and that did seem to work for a while."
He seized my hand again and nuzzled the palm, and looked up at me beseechingly. "Please don't send me away, Master. I'll get over this, I swear I will, and I won't embarrass you again. Truly, I understand that you don't want me, not deep down, how could you? Please, can't we just go on with our training and not talk about this anymore? I'll meditate and work hard and you won't even notice..."
I stared down at him, appalled. My most precious love was kneeling before me, feeling unloved and unlovable, and it was I who had done this.
There were no rules for this, I had utterly no idea what to do. Finally, not with any decision or logical thought process, I simply dropped my shields. Completely.
In the long silence, Obi-Wan had been looking up at me, searching my expressionless face for some clue as to what I was thinking, and the poor boy sent a questing tendril along our training bond. Meeting no resistance where once he would have encountered adamant shields, he tumbled headlong into the whirlwind of my emotions, guilt and desire and all-consuming hopeless love.
He gasped at the impact and fell back on his rear, staring up at me in astonishment. I felt him inside my mind, racing here and there, and from him I received back an answering welter of emotions, from thrilled pleasure to boiling anger.
"Why didn't you TELL me?" he asked, and I could only shrug stupidly.
He leaped to his feet now, and made to strike me, but I caught his arm. We stared into one another's eyes and I finally said, "I never meant to hurt you."
Obi-Wan glared at me with a ferocity I'd never seen in him before. "Shut up and kiss me," he said, grabbing the back of my head and pulling me down toward him.
And then we kissed. And it truly was overwhelming.
I saw at once how wise I had been to deny myself this revealing intimacy. Or perhaps how foolish, not to have allowed him the knowledge of my love long ago.
The first kiss was soft, tender and questing. The second was hungry, hard and demanding. After that I lost count. We knelt on the floor now, and impatient hands had pushed away my robe, so that our naked bodies were pressed together, as the kissing continued until I was dizzy. Obi-Wan was in my mind, holding my love as closely to him as his arms held my body, and it was almost too much to take in, that he WANTED it, wanted me.
Finally, he detached his lips from mine with obvious reluctance, and pressed his forehead to my chest. "We're going back to bed," he mumbled.
I nodded.
He raised his head and looked into my eyes. "And this time, we're going to do it RIGHT."
"Right?"
"No shields. None. I forbid it!"
I couldn't help laughing a bit. "You forbid!"
He nodded, with not a trace of embarrassment. The incongruity of a Padawan issuing orders to his Master seemed not to occur to him. "All this time you let me think this was of little consequence to you, but I know better now. And I want to know what you're thinking and feeling. I know that you love me now. And I want to feel it. Don't I deserve that?"
I lightly stroked his cheek. "You deserve far more than everything I could ever give you," I assured him.
He seized my hand and kissed the palm. "I'll settle for everything you could ever give me," he said.
Then he was on his feet, pulling me up after him and pushing me back toward my room and my bed.
"Our bed," he said. I turned to him in surprise, and then realized he was still with me, in my mind.
Obi-Wan grinned. "Boo," he said. "Look who's here!"
He pushed me backward onto the bed. I fell in a no-doubt inelegant sprawl, and he was immediately beside me. He pushed me flat on my back, and stretched out, leaning on his elbow, smiling down at me. He stroked my chest and then reached down and spread my legs.
I felt a flicker of embarrassment and didn't want him to know, so I slipped a tiny shield around that feeling. But he was everywhere, and saw, and pressed against it until I withdrew it.
He kissed me on the nose and said reprovingly, "I said no shields."
"Sorry."
Now he raised himself up on his knees and looked at me, and I have never felt more thoroughly naked. The lack of mental shields even more than the lack of clothing made me feel horribly exposed and vulnerable. Which of course he saw. But he just smiled at me. Smiled with such warmth that the sense of exposure stopped being unpleasant, began in fact to feel intensely pleasant. This totality of intimacy was completely new to me. I shivered and it was with delight. For no one else in the galaxy would I give such a thorough submission.
Obi-Wan's smile was radiant. "I know," he whispered, and plastered his body onto mine, and we were kissing again.
After another lengthy interval of kissing he pulled away and sat back on the bed, looking at me again. He lightly ran one hand over my chest, down my ribcage to my hips. His eyes seemed to be cataloging my whole body, and it was with a sense of shock that I realized - he thinks I'm beautiful!
Obi-Wan sensed my astonishment. With a mischievous grin, he began to explore my body, allowing me to see myself through his eyes. My shoulders and arms were stroked and licked, my chest nuzzled. He loves my nose! Obi-Wan nibbled tenderly on my nose for a moment before moving on to my hair.
It was a disorienting experience. I didn't spend much time thinking about my personal appearance, it not being of significance to my duties, but what few thoughts I spared to the subject were generally disparaging. To have a beautiful young man worshipping my large and callused hands was decidedly peculiar. But in a nice way.
And then Obi-Wan swooped down and buried his face in my genitals. I groaned loudly and he chuckled, before kissing and nuzzling my balls and then running his tongue along the underside of my cock, from base to tip. It was impossible to get any harder, so I just quivered more.
I tried to reach for him, feeling that our current situation was decidedly one-sided, but he looked up for a moment and said, "This is for you." The return to me of my own words caused me to subside and surrender to his delighted worship.
He placed his head on my thigh and spent a time in awed contemplation of my cock, stroking it reverently. "I want this inside me," he said dreamily. I felt a flicker of fear at the thought of possessing him as I had been possessed, fear that I would hurt him. He kissed my cock gently and said, "Not right away, perhaps. Something to work up to." And I saw through his eyes, and he was admiring a tower, planning the siege.
Then he reversed himself and was alongside me, and then on top of me, smiling down into my eyes, and we were kissing again. He moved his hips, caressing my erection with his own. I couldn't get enough of kissing him, and he knew it and melted against me as we kissed and kissed for what felt like hours.
And then he was leaving my arms, sliding away. I moaned in protest, but felt a reassurance in my mind that he wasn't leaving me, was in fact joining me more completely.
I looked down and Obi-Wan was kneeling between my spread legs, and now he moved his hands down to caress my buttocks. I arched my back, and felt a finger entering me, moving and stroking, and sighed with pleasure at the realization that he was going to take me again. Yes, I told him, oh yes.
He moved closer, sliding his thighs under my hips until his erection was pressed against my entrance, and I lifted my hips higher in a wordless appeal. This was a new position for us, and I was enthralled by it, by my utter helplessness, by the opportunity to watch my lover's face. Obi-Wan smiled, a shy delighted smile, and I knew my thoughts pleased him.
There were no preliminaries. I was still slick from our previous encounter, and Obi-Wan entered me in one smooth thrust. I groaned with pleasure and grasped the blanket convulsively as he began to move in and out, and the pleasure breaking over me in waves was nothing compared to the sweet waves of adoration he was sending to me. I had only the half-formed thought, wondering if I could truly deserve this when my young love interrupted my thoughts with a fierce 'You DO!' And deserved or not, I would accept it, I had no choice.
Oh, it was indescribably sweet, as Obi-Wan wove himself around me, inside and out, stroking into my body as he occupied my mind, marking me everywhere. And then he pulled me into his mind, showing me around as if to say 'here is your new home'. It was enchanting, so young he was, so sure of his own convictions and so unsure of his own powers. I flooded his mind with my long-hidden love, and when we came together, I thought I felt something break. Perhaps it was the universe, cracking out of its egg to make more room for our love.
Part V
I awoke several times during the night and enjoyed the sensation of Obi-Wan in my arms and in my mind. But I couldn't help but feel a flicker of anxiety. Did he realize what we had done last night? Would he come to regret it? As on Fornalhaus, I had acted impulsively, and the outcome was still uncertain.
Obi-Wan slept undisturbed until daylight. Then he stretched beautifully in my arms. My admiration of the sight was immediately apparent to him and he stretched again, posturing shamelessly for my enjoyment. I chuckled and rolled him over for a morning kiss.
Alas, we both had responsibilities and couldn't linger in the bed. Even the delightful shared shower was a rushed event. Then Obi-Wan was off to assist with the Junior Lightsaber Basics class, while I took my sheaf of paperwork out to the garden, to prepare to chair the afternoon session of the Omens and Portents Subcommittee.
I acquired some tea in the pantry and settled myself on my favorite stone bench. As I sorted the reports, I saw with relief that the meeting would be a brief one. Very little in the way of omens and portents recently. A few dreams of padawans to evaluate for possible prophesy, and several unreliable rumors from the Outer Rim. My preparation required only a fraction of my mind, and part of me was enjoying Obi-Wan's class. He was on the other side of the temple but of course always with me now, and he was trying not to smile at the solemn four-year-olds drilling clumsily with sticks.
I also noticed that there seemed to be quite a few conversations going on in the gardens, Masters walking together and discussing something intently. I wondered what the topic was. Politics, no doubt.
After a time, I looked up to see my old friend Mace Windu smiling down at me. I gathered my completed paperwork and gestured at the space cleared off, and he sat beside me on the bench.
"Interesting currents in the Force last night," he said.
"Oh?" I wondered what I'd missed; I'd been rather distracted.
He nodded. "And this morning, three windows are found to be broken in the Council Chamber."
"Really!" That must have been what the Masters were discussing.
"That's a fact," Mace said. "Add that to those currents I was talking about, and a man can't help but feel that somebody must have lifebonded last night."
I shifted uneasily on the bench. Might as well get it over with. "Um, that would have been me," I admitted.
Mace laughed and clapped me on the back. "You know, that's just what I'd been thinking," he said. "I said to myself, Mace, if someone in the Temple is going to lifebond without bothering to submit an application to the Council, who would that person be? And the short list had one name on it. And when the name belongs to a Master with the best-looking Padawan in the Order, it all sort of falls into place."
I wasn't going to let him disturb me. "Omitting the application wasn't a deliberate oversight," I assured him. "It was rather a --spur of the moment thing."
Mace and I went way back. He shook his head. "Your last spur of the moment thing was to not wait for Senate transport on Ceraga but wheedle us some berths on that freighter. Got us landed smack in the middle of a civil war --"
" - which turned out to be right where we needed to be," I reminded him.
"Maybe so," he admitted. "But I have to tell you, Qui-Gon, your spur of the moment things SCARE me."
Lightsaber class was over and I felt Obi-Wan moving toward me, trying to walk with dignity down the halls and not race like a pre-Padawan. My face softened. "My Obi-Wan scares you?" I asked Mace.
"I'm concerned about the Council's reaction, primarily," he said.
Now Obi-Wan was entering the garden, his face lighting up as he caught sight of me. But before he could join me he was intercepted.
Yoda was in front of him. Obi-Wan halted and bowed respectfully.
Yoda stared up at him, leaning on his stick. "Bonded with Qui-Gon, have you?" he asked abruptly.
Startled, Obi-Wan could only nod. I started to rise from the bench to go to my Padawan's aid, but Mace stopped me.
Yoda thumped his stick on the ground twice. Decisively. "About time it is!" he said. "Good for him you will be. Let him slouch you will not."
Obi-Wan was puzzled, but said only, "Yes, Master Yoda."
The two were walking toward us now. Mace and I stood and bowed to the senior Jedi Master. Yoda was in a surprisingly good mood.
"Master Qui-Gon!" he greeted me. "Your bonding application I have, signed it I did."
He handed me a small scroll. I unrolled it and sure enough, it was a signed bonding application. That certainly LOOKED like my signature.
Obi-Wan queried silently, 'you submitted an application?' I advised him that Master Yoda was simply being omniscient again, nothing to worry about.
"Hurry you must," Yoda continued. "Your transport leaves this afternoon."
I blinked in surprise. "Transport?"
"Yes, to the treaty signing at Quolain."
I bowed respectfully. "Somehow I'd missed that we'd been assigned to that mission," I told Yoda.
Mace was looking surprised as well.
"Just now I am telling you," Yoda said impatiently. "A Jedi presence needed is."
My Padawan was silently grumbling to me. A treaty signing? Any old Jedi team could provide a Jedi presence. I shushed him mentally.
"Transport to Quolain is a three week trip, as I recall," I said idly.
Yoda thumped his stick decisively. "Three weeks it is," he said. "Three weeks among non-Force-sensitives. Two weeks on Quolain among non-Force-sensitives, and then three weeks back. Two months is the assignment. When you return, under control this bonding must be."
Mace was nodding now. "Those windows are specialty glass," he said apologetically. "Gets pricey."
I bowed low to the two Council members and gave Obi-Wan a mental nudge. He bowed as well. "We should prepare then," I told the Masters, and left the gardens with my apprentice close at my heels.
In the corridor, Obi-Wan asked, "What just happened back there?"
"That was my old Master giving us a honeymoon trip, Padawan," I answered with a great show of serenity.
"Oh!" His eyes widened. "Two months among non-force-sensitives, he said."
"That's right."
"Two months among people who probably wouldn't pick up a glimmer of it however wild we become...."
"Quite correct."
I could see his busy brain examining all the various possibilities. A grin of surprising wickedness spread across his sweet face.
"Well then!" said Obi-Wan.
I sent a plea to the Force for strength. I was going to need it.
THE END