The air felt different. Obi-Wan squinted up into the harsh
sunlight, frowning, trying to discern the difference. Something
about the planet had changed in the - could it be so little
time? - seven days since the Jedi were on Belvin Three last.
"What has the weather been like this past week, Dr. Mobal?" the
young Diplomat inquired of the physician at his side. Behind
them, the Healer knelt beside Qui-Gon Jinn's pallet, checking
him for signs of returning consciousness.
Sedth Mobal, still smarting a bit from the dressing down he'd
received from Jedi Councilor Yoda over his omissions in his
report last week, nevertheless was at pains to cooperate,
especially with this youthful Jedi who had been part of the
remarkable healing a week ago here beside this now-healthy
lake. Obi-Wan Kenobi's composure also impressed him, especially
when he'd learned of the unfortunate condition of the young
man's elder companion. "Calm, very calm, but also dry, which is
very unusual this time of year. We needed that storm last week,
but, of course, it never, ah..." He gulped, realizing it was an
unwelcome reminder. "We need rain," he finished lamely.
Obi-Wan nodded crisply and looked out over the serene
mirror-like surface of the little lake. "Indeed, well, you're
hopefully about to get that rain." He turned and looked
directly at the man. "We need it every bit as much as you," he
added with a note of wry irony before turning to see how the
Healer was doing. "Maki'?"
"You've got about twenty minutes, no more," Maki' Windsailor
replied, sitting back on his heels. "Is that enough time to
meditate, Obi-Wan?"
The Jedi padawan looked down finally at the unconscious Master
Diplomat. Obi-Wan could not help but feel a tightly coiled
excitement of his own, knowing that once this last, huge
barrier was dissolved, the Oraclyne would finally be able to
function as it was meant to. Oraclys would heal Oraclys. He had
to trust in his instincts that he could restore Qui-Gon's
sanity. [I respect the power of the Oraclyne,] he mused to
himself, nodding at Maki' without answering, already settling
into his pre-meditative centering. [I trust Xanatos now. This
*will* work.]
The Healer stood and drew the Belvini doctor aside. "Return to
the hospital," he whispered to the man, subtly using Force to
dampen the man's curiosity. "Await us there, please."
Mobal nodded wordlessly and began to walk back up the low
hillside beside the lake, back toward the mental hospital. When
he'd gone, Maki' turned back to see Obi-Wan watching him with
one corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile.
In a few steps, Obi-Wan impulsively pulled the Healer into a
hug. "Thanks, Maki'," he murmured, then released him to look at
him again. "You've been such a good friend to us, thank you!"
Maki' smiled back. He'd made sure, on the flight from Vitruga
to Belvin Three, that the young Oraclys had slept well and
eaten properly in preparation for this next phase. He was going
to need it. Affectionately, he gave the young man's padawan
braid a quick tug. "You're more than welcome, Obi. And to be
friend to the Jedi Oraclyne would be an honor indeed. Now you'd
better get started."
Obi-Wan nodded, sobering again after the Master Healer had
turned to go up the hill as well. Maki' had wanted to stay at
the lakeside with them, but Obi-Wan insisted he needed a clear
mental space. They'd compromised, and the Healer would wait
about a hundred meters away, giving them space, but close
enough to sprint to help if needed.
When the Healer had disappeared into the nearby woods, Obi-Wan
sighed and sank to his knees beside his master. He slipped into
trance in moments.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Before him loomed the great black
mountain in the spirit land, the monstrous rock that had come
to separate him and his beloved. Only Qui-Gon could tear down
the mountain... if he could. If he could even be made to try
again.
"We've come so far," Xanatos beside him whispered, looking up
at the massive darkness with him. "Just this one last barrier
to come down."
"I'm afraid," Obi-Wan admitted as he turned to face the spirit.
"Even if he does destroy the mountain, how can I heal him? Can
he ever be like he was?"
The pale blue eyes looked at him with love, and the older man
smiled warmly at him. "The mountain is the last barrier, I
promise. When it comes to healing itself, the Oraclyne
instinctively knows what to do - *you* will know what to do."
Xanatos neared, fitting his hands around the young Jedi's
waist. "Without the mountain in the way, he has nothing with
which to resist you." He leaned in to kiss the other man's
cheek.
Obi-Wan raised his arms and drew Xanatos into the circle of his
embrace. "I respect your power," he murmured, kissing behind
the man's ear and again along his jaw. "I trust you."
Xanatos tightened his arms around the Jedi's back. "I am not
worthy of your trust, not me," he whispered. "Trust only in the
part of me that is the Oraclyne connection. That is pure and
strong, Obi-Wan. It has accepted me only to do this for you.
Beyond this healing it may be that you will never see me again.
I don't know. I am here only to atone for all the wrongs I have
done to him and to you over the years. If that's even
possible."
Never had Obi-Wan heard Xanatos speak so honestly and openly.
He moved his head to find the other's mouth, then kissed him
slowly. **I forgive you and so will he, Xani,** he whispered
back into the Force. **That is all that is needed.**
**Even if it was, I will not leave you now,** Xanatos returned,
kissing him fervently. **Not for a moment!**
Even as Obi-Wan felt the man's tongue lave against his in his
own mouth, he stiffened with shock, for the body in his arms
seemed to be... melting. A second shock wave passed through him
when he realized Xanatos wasn't merely melting or fading, but
somehow the spirit body was melding with his, blending into his
being. [The Oraclyne connection! It's merging more deeply with
me!] he thought, feeling the warmth of the contact between
their bodies swell into a new heat of union. **Xani...?**
**One with you, Obi-Wan,** Xanatos returned lovingly. **The
power of the Oraclyne is yours to wield now. I am but its
voice, its incarnate flesh. The power will always be yours...**
The spirit body merged with the young, living body of the Jedi
in a blaze of fire.
Obi-Wan arched his back, his head thrown back in the burst of
ecstasy. His penis hardened wonderfully, surging with blood and
life, but the arousal pulsing through him was not fraught with
the painful urgency of earlier, but with the power of the
Light, the Force. With it, his confidence and determination
surged as well.
In the real world, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, breathing deeply
and fast. He felt his power as Oraclyne in every fiber of his
being, his heart pumping, his senses bright and sharp, his lust
for life still pulsing and hard. Quickly he looked down at the
prone Master Diplomat before him. Qui-Gon was awakening, his
breathing changed, his limbs tensing. Obi-Wan willed his body
to calmness, his mind to an alert attention, Jedi-focused. He
knew only too well that Qui-Gon was going to be shocked to
awaken, thinking he'd killed himself. Obi-Wan must not let that
shock distract either of them from what must be done.
**Go within,** the younger Oraclys commanded him Force-fully
just as awareness returned but before memory could take him.
Slipping past his shields before they could harden, Obi-Wan
slipped him easily into a trance state.
Qui-Gon Jinn fully awoke to find himself restored but in his
same prison, the blackness rising high above him. "What...?" He
touched the rock, bewildered. His pain was gone, his weariness
vanished. Then he whirled around as he sensed a presence. To
his further shock the apparition behind him seemed to wear two
faces, one the beautiful visage of Xanatos with the ice eyes
and feathery black hair, the other the solemn and serene visage
of his own apprentice, Obi-Wan. "Padawan...?" he murmured,
shaking his head at the peculiar vision.
The Obi-Wan face turned and looked intently at him. "You must
do as he commands you."
The Master frowned, confused. "I... I should be dead,
Obi-Wan... *we* are dead..."
"That is no matter now," Obi-Wan-face interrupted, the Force in
his voice. "Do what he commands."
Qui-Gon nodded before he realized that his own padawan had just
Force-influenced him. But he had no time to get upset over that
for Xanatos-face was now regarding him with bright, sharp eyes
that he could not look away from. "Destroy the mountain."
"What?" Unable to understand where he was or who this spirit
was, Qui-Gon was yet again on the brink of despair. "I tried
that! I cannot do it..."
Hands suddenly shook his shoulders. "Take your lightsaber and
destroy it. Now."
The Jedi Master looked down at his own lightsaber which now lay
in his hands. "Where did this come from?"
"Do it." Obi-Wan-face reinforced the command. "Qui-Gon, look at
me..."
Frightened, Qui-Gon looked into the narrowed eyes of his
apprentice. "Stay away from me..."
"We cannot," Xanatos-face retorted. "If you bear Obi-Wan any
love at all, you will take that and strike down the mountain,
let loose all the darkness inside. You must."
"You must," Obi-Wan-face echoed. The two-faced man abruptly
turned Qui-Gon around, hands clasped around his, getting him to
raise the 'saber. "I *know* you love me, Qui-Gon. Do it."
Qui-Gon felt the caress of the Force in the touch, the voice,
and gasped. "Will... will I be free?"
"Freer than you can imagine," Obi-Wan's voice purred at his
shoulder. A hand caressed him lightly from the back of his neck
down his spine to his crack, causing him to shiver with desire.
The lightsaber was activated, though Qui-Gon's hands were
shaking. Abruptly another hand was on his, steadying his grasp
on the weapon. Together they turned and the hissing, glowing
green blade was laid against the black rock. Immediately the
rock began to vaporize, an inky smoke spirally high into the
sky.
As storms go, it was glorious. Great thunderclouds had swiftly
amassed, and lightning lit up the darkening day for miles
around. The rains washed the countryside clean, pounding into
the lake and frothing up dust to mud on the lake shore. The
stolen energies danced around the atmosphere in a ballet of
sheer Force. The Healer who watched in the forest, laughing his
relief, spun in circles with outflung arms, enjoying getting
very wet for a rare change.
Even before the storm had completely abated a couple hours
later, Maki' spied the strange glow coming from the lake.
Happily he hugged his wet tunics to himself as he recognized it
as a powerful concentration of Force-energy. The Oraclyne was
healing itself from within, right on schedule with the
dissipation of the negative energies, and as explained in the
quadruple-damned, long-winded archives from Zevdra. Curious,
Maki' walked to the edge of the hill leading down to the
lakeside, but stopped when he could see it. Obi-Wan Kenobi, his
body laid at length on top his master's as he done before to
bring him out of the catatonia, was glowing with a pure white
light, working as Oraclys to heal his broken half. Respectful,
Maki' sat down, but he turned away, giving the Oraclyne its
privacy.
By the time the sun came back out and the last of the wind had
died down completely, Obi-Wan was finished with the delicate
healing of the four bond-wounds in his beloved master's mind as
well as the accumulated affects of healing the mental patients.
They were still both soaked through from the pounding rain
earlier, of course, but Obi-Wan was barely aware of any
physical discomfort, so attenuated was he on his master's
recovery. He felt suffused with a wonderful sense of
achievement, awed by the healing power of the Oraclyne as it
had operated through his mind to heal Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan, sighing, climbed off his master's body finally, but
settled onto his side, pulling Qui-Gon over onto his so he
could hold him close. Though he felt confident that Qui-Gon was
completely healed of the schizophrenia, realistically he knew
that matters between them could still be unchanged. In time,
perhaps, Qui-Gon could fall back in love with his padawan. At
least he would not fight the Oraclyne any longer, even if he
still felt so strongly about wanting Obi-Wan to be older before
there was anything more between them.
The Master Diplomat's memories and thoughts were still
shuttered, unavailable to Obi-Wan even during the healing. The
link between them was quiet, though open. Obi-Wan would not
have to wonder for long how his master felt. [At least I won't
be wondering,] he said to himself as he carefully threaded his
fingers through the older man's hair, untangling the heavy,
drying mass with one hand. He'd draped Qui-Gon's lax arms
around him to lay in his embrace while he could, his head on
his shoulder.
Finally there was a hint of awareness. Obi-Wan, his heart
pounding with anticipation, held still as he felt the first
questing tendrils of thought, the only emotions yet a curiously
detached wondering. Oraclys... identifying...
Oraclys. His.
Obi-Wan gasped sharply as the long arms around him tightened
convulsively and strongly. "Qui..." he heard himself moan,
wondering if he dared to let himself hope, forcibly keeping
himself still and limp.
Then a single thought crashed through their suddenly wide open
bond, the advance to a flood of powerful emotion.
**Beloved...** the elder Oraclys sighed to his other half, then
cried out as memories brutally tore into him.
**B...Beloved?** Obi-Wan asked with wild hope, unable to
believe yet what he'd just heard, tightening his arms as well.
Then the realization hit him - Qui-Gon was remembering
*everything*... **Oh, no... it's all right, Qui-Gon, you're all
right now...** He hastened to reassure his master, fearing that
guilt would take away all the careful healing.
Once Qui-Gon Jinn might have let guilt at his own actions keep
him from the vulnerability of love. But with the memories came
understanding of why he had done everything he'd done, and
guilt slipped away as he understood the unfortunate clash of
events that had caught them both up. More important was that
the feelings he'd been forced to deny in his dementia had
returned in full measure. And that his brilliant, beautiful,
mature, faithful and loving apprentice needed reassurance now
far more than he.
**Yes, I know, love,** Qui-Gon answered, shifting the lithe
body more firmly into his arms as he prevented Obi-Wan's cry of
reaction by covering his mouth with his. He kissed his beloved
padawan deeply, even as the young man gasped in wild relief
into his open mouth, then dove in more deeply himself, despite
tears coursing down his cheeks. Qui-Gon held him tightly while
the reaction shuddered through them both.
**You're well!** Obi-Wan returned, trying to laugh, cry, and
kiss him senseless all at the same time. **I mean, you're you
again!**
A wash of love accompanied a rumble of humor along the bond
that had been silent too long. **Forgive me, my darling Obi,
but I seem to be having trouble believing my own memories... I
really wasn't me, was I?** He shuddered again, breaking the
kiss with great reluctance. "I failed you utterly, bringing you
here, Obi-Wan," he whispered, his lips against his cheek. He
didn't know if he could bear to look into his beloved's eyes
quite yet. "And I can't believe you bear me no blame
whatsoever."
"You didn't know," Obi-Wan retorted with a fierceness that
shocked even him. "Neither of us did. There is no blame. It's
over, Master." He was trembling, his face pressed into the
crook of the elder's neck. "The Oraclyne connection acted as it
needed to. That's it."
"Xanatos," Qui-Gon breathed, remembering. "Was it really him?"
When Obi-Wan didn't answer, Qui-Gon sighed, then kissed his
cheek. "I... I know how he helped you, Obi-Wan. I know you
believe he has repented... I hope he has. I want to believe
that, very much. And..." He paused to read the ripples in the
Force around them, in their bond. "I know that he's still
here... somewhere. If there is any resistance to that in me
yet, my love, I know you will help me with it." He sucked his
breath in, thinking about his padawan's constant faith in him.
"You have helped me so much already. I love you, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan caught back a sob. "Oh, Force, Qui, I love you so
much... I would have done anything..."
They froze, sharing the terrible memory. Obi-Wan would have
even died along with him.
The Oraclyne connection surged with energy, denying strongly
the possibility that death could have found them so soon.
**No...** they heard in an unmistakable voice. Then it was
gone, leaving behind a heat that demanded attention.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan moved together back into a crushing
embrace, kissing ardently and deeply. Obi-Wan clung to his
master's neck while Qui-Gon's large hands slid down to cup the
cheeks of his ass in order to fit their groins together.
Arousal surged between them, searing along their bond, cracking
through the Oraclyne connection, heating their senses. For a
few precious seconds they lost themselves in the rising flood,
tongues dueling, hips moving already in sync... and then as one
they stilled again. Obi-Wan, curious and not a little worried,
sent a questing wordless thought along their bond.
**I want you, Obi-Wan, make no mistake about it,** Qui-Gon
hastily assured him as he lessened the depth of their kiss.
**But I do not want our first time together to be like this.**
Obi-Wan relaxed against him, relieved. **The connection is
strong... it's hard to deny it what it wants,** he replied,
thinking.
Qui-Gon shifted, releasing his lips again. But this time he
levered himself up on an elbow, forearm still beneath the
other's head, meeting his young lover's gaze for the first time
since the healing. A last flicker of fire danced through them
in that look, then, the Oraclyne connection reassured, the fire
in their bodies calmed. There would be union, soon. Nothing
could threaten that now. Qui-Gon gazed deep into the honest,
blue eyes staring back at him in wonder. "Force, but you're a
vision," he murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting into a
bit of a smile finally. "Can your old Master tell you how
incredibly proud he is of you?"
Obi-Wan ducked his head, embarrassed, though pleased. "I think
you just did... thank you. As for your advanced age... I have
every intention of making you young again, Qui-Gon." He glanced
back up, his eyes twinkling with humor.
"I have no doubt that you can and will," Qui-Gon sighed, his
fingers finding the soggy braid that trailed most of the way
down his padawan's chest. He gave him a wan smile, then sobered
as unwanted memories returned. "I have hurt you terribly...
though when I remember it seems like someone else did... those
things to you."
"Don't," Obi-Wan whispered, shaking his head. "That wasn't you.
Please..."
"Padawan, we cannot pretend they did not happen," Qui-Gon
countered gently. "We must deal with the effects, especially on
you. I am very concerned for you because of the stresses I know
you've had to endure."
"All right," Obi-Wan sighed heavily and laid his head back on
the arm beneath his neck. "But I'm fine. You were the one
hurt..."
"Now who's in denial?" Qui-Gon murmured quietly and brushed his
lips across Obi-Wan's. "I know... what you saw on Coruscant."
The garden. Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the memory, hot
tears filling his eyes.
Qui-Gon, concerned, stroked his young love's face. "Obi-Wan,
you know there is only you in my heart, now and for the rest of
our lives. Oraclyne or not, I neither desire to be with any
others nor ever will again. You are my heart's only desire, all
I will ever need or want. And that thought fills me with
nothing but joy."
Obi-Wan looked back at this, his eyes widening in wonder. "But
you loved them for a long time," he couldn't help but comment.
[Can he really prefer me over them?]
But Qui-Gon had caught the thought, for their bond was still
wide open. His eyes flashed with brief consternation and he
looked so intently at Obi-Wan that the padawan thought he would
faint from the scrutiny. **We are not having this conversation
again,** he thought to him, then added, sending love through
their bond, "Will you take life vows with me, Obi-Wan?"
The young Diplomat gulped. "The Oraclyne..."
"Forget the Oraclyne for a moment," Qui-Gon said firmly, his
fingers tightening on the braid so that the other felt a subtle
tug. "I love *you* and want to be life partners with you.
Please say yes."
The tug on his braid sent a jolt of lust straight to his groin.
Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably, his wet leggings tight. "You...
you really mean that?" he gasped. Suddenly he had a moment of
doubt. [What if Qui-Gon's just gone from one extreme to the
other? Isn't that also a sign of psychosis?]
Qui-Gon's eyes widened when he felt the doubt sifting into
their bond. He dropped the braid, then released Obi-Wan
altogether, scooting back to sit apart from him. "I... I
understand. Of course you have no reason to believe me yet."
[After all,] he thought to himself bitterly, [I've been
psychotic for a week!] He took a deep breath. "I'll have the
Healers check me out thoroughly. But I will be asking you
again... my Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan fought to keep back more of the hot, bitter tears.
"Master, I'm not rejecting you at all, I just..."
Qui-Gon actually smiled, releasing his own worry into the
Force. "I understand. You must be sure of me. I will make
certain that you can." Then he happened to glance down...
noting his padawan's erection.
Hastily folding his arms to hide the bulge in his pants,
Obi-Wan quickly reassured him, "I do love you, Qui-Gon. You...
just caught me by surprise." [And now he knows how aroused he
makes me...]
But the Master Diplomat was smoothly rising to his feet. He
nodded in understanding, but at the same time was reading
plenty in their bond. [Obi-Wan has his own healing to do,] he
noted ruefully. [I caused that pain.] "Of course, Padawan," he
said calmly, and offered him a hand up. "We will talk more
after the Healers have been in my head, hmm?" He could sense
the Healer waiting up the hill. "Maki' is waiting for us."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan murmured. By unspoken mutual consent,
their Master-Padawan bond fell silent, their shields going back
up, though, thankfully, not nearly as hard as they had been. He
took the hand and let Qui-Gon pull him up to his feet.
Qui-Gon put a finger to the young Diplomat's chin, bidding him
look at him again. "You love me well and deeply, Obi-Wan. I am
sorry if I have moved too fast. I know this has been an
extremely difficult week for you. I... I just want you to know
exactly where my heart is."
Obi-Wan looked into his master's concerned expression, the
intent, deep blue eyes that he loved. "I know, Qui-Gon," he
said quietly. "Thank you." [What is *wrong* with me?] he
wondered with internal irritation. [I have my life's dream
handed to me and I don't jump at it?] But again the image from
the garden popped up into his mind's eye. Obi-Wan winced
involuntarily, then guiltily glanced at Qui-Gon, knowing that
he'd seen the reaction.
"It wasn't me," Qui-Gon whispered, then slipped his fingers
into his padawan's hand. "I would like to make memories of our
own to put that one out of your mind for good."
"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, sighing. "I would like that." [I'm not
being fair to him,] he thought, his mind working to shake off
his reluctance. [He was affected by the sexual urges that the
Oraclyne connection set up in both of us, and Raen and Jil-Ba
were grieving the loss of their bond. Qui was schizophrenic!]
His hand tightened on the other's. "Qui-Gon, wait..."
Qui-Gon had been about to lead him back up to the Healer. Half
turned, he came back. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"
His arms were suddenly full of padawan as Obi-Wan's arms went
around his neck in a tight hold. "Yes," was whispered against
his throat. "Yes, I will take life vows with you." The doubts
had fallen away, Obi-Wan's faith returned. Ardently he sent the
strong force of his love into their bond, warming and sealing
them both.
Qui-Gon gasped in a rush of relief, his embrace tightening
around the treasure in his arms. He returned his own powerful
emotions, his again, back through the bond, finishing the
re-binding of their hearts. **You mean this...!**
**Oh, yes,** Obi-Wan returned, inhaling sharply as their bond
opened all the more, their minds now touching lightly, even
shyly, but with much love. **I know everything is not
completely back to normal, Qui-Gon,** he added honestly. **But
all that matters to me is that you're healed. Your mind is
yours again.**
**Thank you,** was all the Jedi Master could say in words. A
sudden surge of grief rose in his mind, backlash to what they'd
both endured... what he'd subjected his beloved padawan to.
Then he felt his Obi-Wan's lips at his throat and he untensed.
**We're both going to be getting these ripples of reactions, I
see,** he added finally, calming as he focused on his Oraclys
glued to his body.
**Yes...** Obi-Wan lifted his head finally. "We'll have time to
adjust," he sighed. "Maki' is waiting."
Together, arms around each other, they walked to meet the
Healer.
Maki' relaxed considerably when he saw them approach... and
when he saw how they approached. It also helped that Obi-Wan
was smiling. But the Master Healer knew he had to be sure of
the Master Diplomat for himself. When they reached him, he had
eyes only for the elder Jedi.
Qui-Gon calmly lifted his gaze to meet that of the Healer.
"Maki'," he murmured, sighing. "I want to thank you for all
your help to my apprentice. I know... this has been hard on you
as well."
"Yes," Maki' said neutrally, giving the other a bit of a formal
bow. "I have devoted myself to seeing that the Oraclyne be
allowed to develop... and flourish. If that is your wish as
well."
The Diplomat nodded, recognizing that he had to prove himself
to the Healer. "I wish it very much, Maki'," he replied, using
the man's nickname on purpose. He had no wish to be on a formal
basis with one who was so important to them. Without Maki',
Obi-Wan might have suffered worse at his hand. He thought
briefly of the aborted sparring match... the near suicide
attempt, which he assumed Maki' had stopped. He suppressed a
shiver. [That *really* wasn't me...]
"Maki'," Obi-Wan spoke up, reaching out to touch the man's arm,
"my master is healed. But he is willing to submit himself to
whatever tests you feel are necessary to be sure of him."
Maki' had his own memories to deal with. "I see... you two are
reconciled," he murmured, noting with relief their close
physical proximity. "I'm... glad." He lifted his e you both well. For *you*, not just as the Oraclyne."
"We are well, Maki'," Obi-Wan replied, the light of happiness
in his eyes.
It was enough for the Healer... for now. Sighing his own
immense relief, he hugged them both, then gestured toward the
mental hospital a mile away. "We should get back - you'll want
to change."
Both Diplomats noticed that all three Jedi wore dirty, sodden
clothing, thanks to the storm. Qui-Gon, relaxing more and more,
even chuckled. "Well, if we're going to be doing this sort of
thing often, Padawan, I think we should look into waterproof
tunics, eh?" He smiled down at his apprentice.
Obi-Wan laughed and couldn't help giving him a wink as he
regarded how his beloved's leggings clung to his thighs. "Oh,
but Master, there is something to be said for being wet..."
At the hospital, Qui-Gon's expression changed from growing
relaxation to one of shock. "Padawan, I know I should be here,
but I do not fully understand why..."
When Obi-Wan looked at him sharply, he raised a finger to
stroke across his padawan's lightly stubbled cheek. "You feel
it as I do... the patients here, Obi-Wan."
Relaxing a little, Obi-Wan nodded. "But we're shielding against
them..." As they'd walked back to the hospital, it had been
necessary to strengthen their shields more and more the closer
they got.
Having retrieved dry clothes that Maki' had brought for them
from their transport, the two Diplomats changed quickly out of
their wet, dirty clothes; the woolen robes had been left
behind. Though undressing in front of one another, the subtle
discord leaking through their shields from the mental patients
was plenty to distract them from any erotic thoughts about
their momentary nudity. Besides, the Healer was changing as
well on the other side of the room.
Maki', too, felt the negative ripples in the Force here, and
shivered. [Qui-Gon needs to do this,] he reminded himself,
pausing to stiffen his own shields more.
"We have one final chapter here, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured
as he drew his robe on. "Stay close to me?"
Dressed, Obi-Wan turned to go into his master's arms. "Of
course," he murmured, sighing as the long arms closed about
him. "You cannot get rid of me now."
"Could never want to," Qui-Gon whispered a bit hoarsely into
his ear, wincing as a quick pulse of remorse surfaced, then
calmed as Obi-Wan's hands patted his back in comfort. He looked
up to see the Healer watching them, the blue-gray eyes
revealing his own mental strain.
"Come," Maki' said quietly. "Soon we can leave here."
Qui-Gon nodded and released his young lover. "Yes, soon..."
The hospital administrator led the Jedi to a sunny lounge with
large glass doors opening onto a garden. "Wait here," he
murmured, then left the room.
While Maki' went to sit down, Obi-Wan, arms folded in robe
sleeves like his master, turned to look at Qui-Gon. The Master
Diplomat had gone very still, as if listening to something
within. **What is it, Master?**
They both turned to the door abruptly as someone came in.
Several someones... a skinny boy of twelve, a young woman a
little older than Obi-Wan, a humanoid woman with large,
drooping ears and six fingers on each hand, a tall Wookiee, a
distinguished-looking middle-aged man, a slender Firrerran man
with flowing red and silver striped hair... there were nine in
all. The nine unerringly came forward to the tall Master
Diplomat, looking curiously at him.
Respectfully, Obi-Wan eased away from him. **Love?** Qui-Gon
asked, bewildered.
**You need this,** Obi-Wan returned, smiling. The group of
mental patients clustered around Qui-Gon, a few touching his
clothes shyly. **They are the patients you healed, Qui-Gon.**
Then Qui-Gon's attention was captured by one of the patients.
The boy tugged hard on his sleeve, looking up at the tall Jedi
with wide, soulful eyes. "Sir? Sir?"
"Yes, little one?" Qui-Gon replied kindly. He felt his heart
opening to him, in fact, to his shock he realized he somehow
*knew* these people, not their names or their origins, but he
recognized something in their spirits, something of himself he
had left behind... something gone in himself that he had taken
from them.
"Did you see the storm?" the boy asked excitedly, yanking on
the Jedi Master's sleeve.
**He was autistic a week ago,** Maki' informed Qui-Gon
suddenly. **They were all ill, nothing like they are now... Dr.
Mobal shared their cases with me while we returned here. That
boy spoke to no one, met no one's eyes. They're expecting to
release him to his family in a few days.**
Qui-Gon, his throat constricting with emotion, nodded to the
boy. The middle-aged man was patting him on the arm; the Jedi
turned to look at him. "What's your name?" he asked him.
"Petrun Galard," the man said with a smile. "I like the garden,
don't you?"
"I love gardens," Qui-Gon murmured, smiling. "It's very
lovely."
**Delusional schizophrenic,** Maki' was telling him. **The man
was dangerous, believing himself to be Warlord of the Galaxy or
something like that. Mobal says all the fight's gone out of
him.**
**That's where you got your powerful denial of the Oraclyne,**
Obi-Wan offered, his eyes moist with tears. **Everything you
went through... came from them.**
The Healer continued to explain, but Qui-Gon was soon too
absorbed in the nine mental patients to listen. He clasped
their hands, exchanged hugs, smiled, cried joyfully, and
laughed with them, listened to them talk about what they felt
or thought now that they were "better", touched their hair and
faces as they touched his... on it went, the healer coming to
know the healed.
**Force, his empathy is strong,** Maki' murmured to Obi-Wan,
unable to watch, his heart aching. Everything that had called
him to the Healer Discipline was here in this room. He felt in
his bones the power that he'd seen in his own master, T'kennu,
one of the strongest Jedi empaths ever known. Indeed, the
Living Force was here in its fullest beauty and power.
Obi-Wan merely nodded, his eyes drinking it all in, heedless of
the tears that streamed down his face as avidly as on his
lover's face now. In this moment, he felt that he finally knew
the Living Force as a part of his own life and heart... as
Oraclyne.
An hour later, it was over. Dr. Mobal silently collected his
charges, who literally danced and laughed as they left the room
after getting the Jedi to promise to return to visit again
someday.
Obi-Wan instinctively caught Qui-Gon before he could collapse;
together they sagged into a careful heap in the middle of the
floor. **I want to return here once a year when we can,**
Qui-Gon whispered into his Oraclys's mind. **The Oraclyne was
born here, beloved. In a terrible and wonderful way, we were
born here.**
**Yes, of course,** Obi-Wan replied, though he was appalled at
how the visit had drained them both. [We've had a hell of a day
- why am I surprised?] "Qui, we should leave," he whispered
softly, kissing his bearded jaw and cheek.
"N...not Coruscant," Qui-Gon whispered back, leaning heavily on
his apprentice. "Please..."
Maki' was abruptly kneeling beside them, concerned. He could
feel their exhaustion sharply. "Let's talk about that in space,
my friends," he said gently, a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "We
need to get you both away from here."
Once their transport was in space, the pressure of the
remaining mental anguish from the hospital had lifted. Maki',
all Master Healer now, pressed cups of hot tea into their hands
as they sat together on a bench, both still a little stunned.
"You need fluids, and I've ordered some soup," he told them,
sitting opposite them. "Now, let me guess - you're both feeling
extremely sensitive right now."
Together, the two halves of the Jedi Oraclyne nodded. They
sipped their tea, their free hands tightly clenched together.
Maki' hastily called the pilot on his comlink, directing him to
remain in orbit around Belvin Three for the time being.
Coruscant, with its billions of people, was no place for them
right now. "I must call the Council," he sighed. "Gali told me
that the psychic and empathic sensitivity of the Oraclyne is
known to increase under stress. Qui-Gon, I need to report your
condition... both of your conditions," he amended.
Qui-Gon nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "What will you
tell them?"
"That the Oraclyne is recovering from extreme stress," Maki'
answered simply, then he smiled. "And that the prognosis for
complete recovery is excellent, in fact I expect the recovery,
such as it is, to exceed expectations."
"Thank you," the two Oraclys said together. They smiled wanly
at one another, then Qui-Gon leaned down to brush Obi-Wan's
lips with his. **We're all right now,** he assured him.
**We're going to be, yes,** Obi-Wan replied with relief, warmly
touching his master's mind through their bond. **But what of
our future?**
**We'll need to talk about that,** Qui-Gon answered, then
kissed him again.
A few minutes later, Maki' Windsailor was sorely wanting to
stick out his tongue at the vidscreen. At the Council. They'd
ordered the Oraclyne to return to Coruscant immediately for a
full evaluation.
"I suggest you consult with Master Hyr if you..."
"Master Hyr has been called off-planet..."
"Yes," Maki' smoothly interrupted the interruption, "He and
Master Yoda were to meet us..."
"Master Yoda has other business as well," Master Mace Windu
broke in yet again, his expression cool and set. "Master Hyr
will not be meeting you. As a matter of fact, you're being
recalled to Dantooine after returning the Diplomats..."
Behind him, Maki' heard one of the Jedi lurch to his feet.
Qui-Gon. **Sit down, Qui, I can handle this,** he directed the
other master. **Sit...**
Weaving, Qui-Gon sat. **Trust you, Maki'...**
"I invoke Healer's Privilege in this matter," Maki' said
crisply to the viewscreen image of the Councilor. "I am Healer
to the Jedi Oraclyne and I will be taking them to Dantooine
myself to assist in their recovery and re-training."
**What?** the Oraclyne asked of their friend.
"What?" Windu asked indignantly. "You dare to invoke the
Privilege over a Councilor?"
"We're just as concerned about the Oraclyne as you," Master
Poof interjected, throwing Windu a look of irritation.
"If you could just explain why the evaluation is not
necessary," Master Plo Koon added worriedly, "I'm sure you can
see our reasoning..."
**Hang on, I'll explain,** Maki' hastily reassured the two
Diplomats who were looking bewildered at him. To the Council he
said, "The Oraclyne is under extreme stresses and cannot be
subjected to the mental impact of Coruscant just yet."
"Let us speak to Master Jinn," Windu said suspiciously.
[Contemplatives,] Maki' thought with irritation. "He is in no
condition..."
"I can speak for myself," Qui-Gon replied with a sigh. He
released Obi-Wan's hand and rose a little more steadily this
time, joining the Healer at the vidscreen. "Master Windu,
Councilors," he said to them, bowing.
"You wanted to reverse the Oraclyne imprinting," Windu reminded
him sulkily, tapping his finger. "Now what?"
Qui-Gon controlled a flare of anger. "I was suffering from
*schizophrenia*, Mace, as I'm sure Master Hyr told you, or
would have if you'd asked him or Master Windsailor. I am no
longer suffering from that condition."
"Oh? And how is it that you know this, Master Jinn?" The
Councilor frowned, irritated that the other used his first name
in an official transmission. It was typical Jinn, blowing off
formalities that should be maintained.
"*I* have determined," Maki' broke in firmly, "that Qui-Gon is
well. Are you questioning my judgment as a Healer, Master
Contemplative Windu?"
The implication was that a Contemplative was inferring that a
Jedi of another Discipline did not know his own field of
knowledge. Windu looked positively flinty. "No, of course not.
I suggest you may have been under great stress as well. And
both of the *Diplomats* in your charge are stronger telepaths
than you. Your own mind may have been compromised."
Mace Windu, they all knew, had been a formidable Diplomat in
his time. It was also known that Qui-Gon Jinn had smoothly
taken over Windu's position of prominence in the Discipline
upon the latter's ascendancy to the Council.
"I want to speak to Master Yoda," Maki' retorted a breath ahead
of Qui-Gon.
"He's not available..."
"Fine," Maki' sighed, reaching for the controls. "Have him call
us enroute to Dantooine. Windsailor, out." He shut off the
transmission.
"Thank you," Qui-Gon murmured, laying a hand on the Healer's
shoulder. "But why Dantooine? Obi-Wan and I will need to make
some decisions, you know."
"I know," Maki' said quietly, looking up at the taller man. "I
do not presume to make them for you. But Dantooine would be a
perfect place for you right now. You two need solitude and a
place strong in the Living Force. And... when you're ready...
perhaps you would like to consult with my master, the head of
the Academy on Dantooine."
"T'kennu," Qui-Gon named him, nodding. "Very well." He sighed
and reached for his apprentice, who immediately came and
slipped an arm around his waist. "Is that all right with you,
my Obi-Wan?" he asked, looking down at him with affection.
"There's a Jedi retreat center on Dantooine," Obi-Wan murmured,
leaning against Qui-Gon. "May we go there?"
"I can think of nowhere better," Maki' replied, smiling at them
both.
After finishing a simple meal of soup and bread, the Oraclyne
retired to quarters assigned to them on the ship, taking their
leave of the Healer who was only too happy to let them have
their needed time alone. There would be a great deal of time
like this now, to their relief. They had memories to deal with,
energies to restore... bodies to learn.
Once alone, Obi-Wan turned to his master only to face two large
hands rising to cup his cheeks. "Welcome back, Master," he
murmured, lifting his face to him with a smile.
"Shhh..." Qui-Gon hushed him, his deep blue eyes intently
searching his. **I love you, do you know that?**
**I do now,** Obi-Wan replied, his fingers slipping inside his
master's robe to find his waist. **What I cannot believe is
that I finally get to touch you. Although I notice the urges
are lessened.**
**Shhh,** the hushing continued even to his mind. Qui-Gon
closed his eyes and bent down to gently kiss Obi-Wan's cheek.
Or at least that was where he started the kisses, for he
continued to slowly place little kisses all over the sweet
young face in his hands. **Just be with me,** he added.
Obi-Wan held still for the loving attention of his lover's
lips, though his heart felt like it was fluttering. He closed
his eyes, then almost gasped as light kisses were laid against
each eyelid as well. It was true they no longer felt the taut
sexual tension from earlier, but then they were too tired to go
in that direction anyway. Loving attention was enough for now.
Then Qui-Gon released a deep sigh as he straightened, releasing
Obi-Wan's face. Smiling, he removed his robe, which Obi-Wan
hastily took from him. Going to hang both robes up, Obi-Wan
realized with amazement that Qui-Gon hadn't even kissed his
mouth just then. He couldn't help but smile, knowing that was
surely next.
Although "next" was removing boots. "Sleep with me?" Qui-Gon
whispered quietly, leaning into Obi-Wan's ear.
"Yes," Obi-Wan whispered back, unable to suppress a tiny shiver
of delight. After boots they removed belts, sashes, then
tabards. Looking away shyly, Obi-Wan went to untie the laces on
his tunic.
A hand stopped him. "Beloved," Qui-Gon sighed in his ear again,
leaning close. "Please do not tease me. I am much too tired to
make love."
Another shiver. [To make love with Qui-Gon,] Obi-Wan thought,
feeling an unexpected, internal tremor of need. [Force, I am
tired too, but...]
**I know,** the voice answered him to his shock. Their bond was
wide open. **I need you as well, Oraclys of mine, but I would
prefer to be awake to enjoy you.**
A gleam came into the padawan's eye. **You could sleep and I
could enjoy you?**
An eyebrow arched up. It was his only warning. Abruptly Obi-Wan
found himself hoisted up by two strong arms and carried into
the bedroom where he was summarily dumped onto the bed. He was
still laughing when his master slid in beside him and pulled
him in against the tall, muscled body. **I do not think so,
Padawan,** Qui-Gon replied with mock sternness as he leaned
down to plunder the young man's mouth.
Obi-Wan, more used to the rough urgency of lovers from his own
peer group, found himself melting into a boneless puddle as his
beloved kissed him slowly and very deeply. It was a rare
experience, not to be able to slip his tongue into a lover's
mouth because his was so full of the other's tongue already. He
was proud to have a reputation as an assertive but considerate
lover. Now, in the arms of his far more experienced master, he
wanted only to let Qui-Gon have him any and every way he
wanted... and as soon as possible. [Now would even be good,] he
thought with an internal moan, feeling his penis harden
pleasurably.
Then he yawned and involuntarily Qui-Gon did also a second
later. They smiled, sharing the betrayal of their weariness.
The Master Diplomat brushed his lips over his padawan's a last
time, then settled the lithe young body against his, nestling
his lover's head against his shoulder. **Good rest, Obi-Wan, my
love.**
Obi-Wan snuggled in close, though he was careful not to rub his
groin into the other until he'd softened again. Fortunately he
was just as tired, relaxing completely and falling asleep in
seconds, despite being circled by the arms of the man he loved
deeply.
The powerful Jedi Master paced back and forth before the
kneeling figure huddled before him. He felt the other's fear
like the taste of a cold, bitter wine in the back of his
throat. In his right hand he held his lit lightsaber, the green
blade humming dangerously. "Get up and fight like I taught you
to," he murmured in a low, tight voice to the trembling
padawan.
"No, Master, please, Master, don't make me fight you..." The
muffled voice of the small, folded body was tremulous.
The hard toe of a boot connected with the side of the figure.
"Get up."
A moan was gulped back, then the padawan was slowly rising to
his feet, hilt in hand. "Please, Master, please don't..."
A large hand grabbed the boy's wrist, pulling his 'saber hilt
to a ready position. "Put your other hand up here... good. Now,
activate."
But the fear had only escalated. "No, please... you're going to
hurt me..." The other hand fell to his side again, lax.
The green blade was abruptly before the boy's face. "Do you
want to feel this? A scar to make you think?" the Master
snapped out.
"No, sir!" The blue eyes of the padawan began to fill with
tears. "Don't..."
"Don't what?" The Jedi Master advanced, threatening. Hastily
the boy backed up until he banged against the wall. Still
onward the 'saber blade came, until he could feel the cool but
lethal energy of the laser near his face. "What? What don't you
want me to do?" Abruptly the blade was withdrawn, but only so
the Master could slap the boy's face. "What?" he demanded
harshly.
Freely crying now, the padawan began to whimper. "Don't kill
me, Master!"
"Why shouldn't I?" the Master snarled, slapping his other
cheek. "You're no good as a Jedi!"
"Master, please, Master..."
"It will be over with quickly, I promise you," the Master
snapped, raising the lightsaber again but in two fists this
time, poised to strike.
"Master, no! Please!!" the boy begged, shaking violently.
The lightsaber descended in a vicious slice...
Qui-Gon woke abruptly, crying out. His heart was pounding even
as he realized... it was a nightmare. Beside him, Obi-Wan
stirred, then sat up quickly when he saw the anguish on his
master's face.
"Qui-Gon, what is it?" His hand went to the bearded chin,
turning his face to him.
With wide, haunted eyes, Qui-Gon Jinn looked down into the
worried face of his beloved padawan. "I... I was killing
you..." he murmured, his voice taut with horror. "You were much
younger, perhaps fifteen... and you wouldn't fight me. You were
so afraid..."
"It's a dream, Master," Obi-Wan said hastily, pulling the older
man back down with him, shifting to get as much of his body
against him as he could. "Everything's all right..."
"I was killing you..." Qui-Gon shut his eyes abruptly even as
he hugged the young muscular body against him. "Force, when I
was ill, I did try to get you to fight me..."
Obi-Wan stroked his lover's back, nuzzling his neck in an
effort to calm and soothe him. "It's over, that's all over now.
That won't happen again, Qui-Gon. It's over..."
Qui-Gon fit his hand under Obi-Wan's head and gently drew him
back so he could look into his face. "Were you afraid of me?"
Blue eyes gazed into deeper blue eyes. "No," Obi-Wan responded
honestly. "Never. I only feared for you. I knew that in your
madness if you truly had hurt me, it would really send you over
the edge."
Qui-Gon ducked his head, averting his eyes abruptly. "I caused
you to hurt yourself. And... I wanted to die so that I would
stop hurting you."
A wave of anguish shuddered through their bond. Obi-Wan pulled
him back into his arms, squeezing tightly. "You can't hurt me,
Qui," he whispered, his heart aching with love and their shared
emotional pain. "And you didn't die, I didn't die... we're all
right now. Time to set that terrible time in the past and leave
it there. Qui-Gon, we've got so much ahead of us..." To further
soothe his lover, he began kissing his ear and jaw.
The Master Diplomat groaned, then shifted and found his
beloved's lips. Sighing into the mouth that immediately opened
for him, Qui-Gon kissed Obi-Wan deeply and thoroughly... until
moments later they were aware of the ship's landing jets,
followed by a soft bump. The transport had landed on Dantooine.
The Diplomats had never minded being in space, but for once
they were glad to set foot on ground... and the differences
between Belvin Three and Dantooine were immense. The Living
Force was beautifully fluid and alive here, without the subtle
oppression of the mental hospital on Belvin Three. They were
relieved to see that the transport set down, not at the Jedi
Temple of the Healer Discipline, but at the Jedi retreat center
nearly a hemisphere away. The setting was soothing and indeed
healing, lush and green with wooded hills and the subtle tinkle
of many hidden waterfalls.
There was something, or rather someone else, which they found
very welcome. Master Yoda was waiting for them at the retreat
center. Master Diplomat Jinn greeted the Councilor by going to
one knee and bowing. "My master," he breathed, then felt an
internal pang when he would have touched the mind of the other
through the remnant of their old training bond.
That bond, of course, was gone, snapped by Yoda himself so that
the Oraclyne may survive. **Touch my mind, telepath to
telepath,** the old one whispered into his mind, leaning
forward on his stick to place a chubby green claw tenderly on
the large human's knee. **Connect, we still may, my Padawan.**
**Thank you, my Master,** Qui-Gon returned, touching his old
teacher's mind not through the Force but through his native
telepathic powers. **It is good to see you.**
Yoda nodded, but narrowed his eyes, peering into the eyes of
his student of some thirty years ago. **And you, Padawan...
well, you are now?**
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, stilling, sensing the gentle probe.
**Yes, I hope so, Master.**
Behind him, Obi-Wan stood beside Maki', glad for the moment for
the voluminous hood and sleeves of their robes, for he was sure
he could not keep the emotion off his face, seeing how his
master bent to submit his healed mind for inspection by the
most ancient of their Order. He could easily read his lover's
anxious hope, waiting to receive Yoda's approval of the healing
that was done. Being the one who engineered the healing,
Obi-Wan felt no less anxiety himself.
Finally Master Yoda straightened, lifting his gaze up to the
others. "Healed, he is," the Contemplative sighed, leaning on
his stick again. "Well, you have done, young Padawan.
Impressive... and how feel you, hmmm?"
As Qui-Gon rose to his full height and stepped aside, pushing
back his hood, Yoda came forward to regard the apprentice
Diplomat. Obi-Wan bowed. "I am fine, Master Yoda, thank you..."
Yoda interrupted with a sharp tap of his gimer stick on the
walkway of native stone. "Honesty befits both Healers and
Diplomats, Padawan Kenobi. Honest with me, you will be."
Obi-Wan glanced up at Qui-Gon and found himself openly staring
at him. He squinted in the bright sunlight. Were there golden
highlights in the rich fall of long, dark brown hair? **Why are
you looking so amused?** he inquired, wondering at the slight
curve of his master's supple lips upwards on one side...
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured, nearing to settle a hand to the
young man's waist, "answer Master Yoda, won't you?" He leaned
down and kissed Obi-Wan's hair, his fingers finding the root of
the padawan braid instinctively.
"Oh..." Obi-Wan sighed, feeling his heart quicken at his
lover's nearness. Then he ducked his head as he realized what
was happening. The Oraclyne's tendency toward... ah... union...
had evidently kicked in again.
"Padawan?" Yoda was clearly amused, but he no longer expected
an answer. **Correct you were, Master Maki',** he said to the
Healer who was smothering a smirk. **Beautiful to see two such
lovers, mmmm?**
**Oh, ah, yes,** Maki' replied quickly. [Do *not* go there,
Yoda,] he thought to himself, averting his eyes from the very
tall, handsome Master Diplomat with the beautiful eyes and such
gentle hands, and the equally exquisite Senior Padawan Diplomat
with the glowing, rosy skin and...
Yoda's stick connected with his thigh, causing him to jump.
**Let the Oraclyne take care of needs first, then ogle them
later... *much* later... you may, Makol' Windsailor,** Yoda
gently scolded him with a mental rumble of amusement. **So many
hormones, the humans have...**
Maki' recovered, gasping. When the Diplomats glanced over, he
gestured toward a stone path off to their left. "Your cottage,"
he informed them with a steady voice, "is down that way about a
mile, away from the rest of the dwellings that are part of the
center. It's adequately shielded and fully stocked. Also, I
believe Master Yoda has brought some of your belongings from
Coruscant..."
"As well as that archive," Yoda snorted, making it clear he
shared the general opinion of the usefulness of the
disorganized and lengthy database. "When time you have, read it
you must."
Qui-Gon, though equally distracted by the presence of his
beautiful young Oraclys, had not missed a single nuance,
including Maki's inadvertent interest. "I am sure that time
will present itself... eventually," he replied, then winked at
Maki' just to see the young Healer blush. "You will be staying
on Dantooine?" he added.
"Vacation, I have not had for a year," Yoda answered, sighing.
"Beautiful place this is. Enjoy it I will."
"Until later, then, my Master," Qui-Gon murmured, then glanced
at the Healer again. "Maely the taller man slung his
arm around the other's shoulders so that they walked closely,
enjoying the minute easing of the resurgent desires that
constant touching allowed. "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon began finally, "I
have always tried to respect your privacy regarding your
relationships..."
Obi-Wan smiled and looked up sidelong at him. "You want to know
how experienced I am."
Qui-Gon returned the smile, looking back down at him, his dark
eyes softened with love. "It would be helpful to know, yes.
Whatever you feel comfortable telling me, that is."
The padawan chuckled, looking around at the surrounding woods
as they walked. "Well, you are not going to be hearing about
all the mistakes I've made. I will say that I have, er, made
the rounds, so to speak. For a Senior Padawan at my age, I
believe I'm fairly well experienced." He glanced up again, his
expression softening as well. "Though I have no doubt you have
much to teach me, Qui-Gon. I long... to learn *you*."
The arm around him tightened. "As do I, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon
murmured.
Presently they reached the long, low-slung cottage deep in the
forest. A silvery stream ran along one side, curving around the
back. Thin shafts of light filtered down through the high
ceiling of the woods, lending a soft glow to the environs. The
effect was of tranquility... very welcoming to a Healer of any
sort.
With a mental flick, Qui-Gon turned on the Artificer-designed
lights, which of course were Force-activated. "Oh, this looks
comfortable," he sighed to his companion as they glanced around
the interior. Qui-Gon only got a quick glimpse at the plush,
upholstered chairs and sofa in the open area before his
attention was commanded by a Senior Padawan Diplomat deftly
divesting him of his robe.
"Later we can wax eloquent about the accommodations," Obi-Wan
muttered, taking Qui-Gon by hand and dragging him off to what
he hoped was the bedroom. Laughing, the senior Jedi let himself
be led off to what indeed turned out to be a large bedroom the
size of their entire common room of their Temple quarters on
Coruscant.
**I'd rather kiss you with Diplomat eloquence,** Qui-Gon
countered, pulling back on the hand in his. He used his
advantage of having longer legs to effectively step past his
padawan so that Obi-Wan had no choice but to step back and run
smack into Qui-Gon's torso. The younger man tried to laugh his
delight, but his mouth was abruptly occupied by the other's.
**You really like kissing me that much? And that was a hell of
a move you put on me,** Obi-Wan retorted, his arms going around
the large man's ribs in order to pull him closer.
**I love kissing you and you're welcome,** Qui-Gon replied, one
hand caressing his padawan's back while the other went down to
the latch on his belt. As he expertly opened the latch with two
fingers, the belt coming away in his hand, he felt Obi-Wan
tremble a little in his embrace. "Obi?" he murmured, separating
from his mouth. He looked down into hooded blue eyes,
wondering. "Are you ready for this?"
"Physically, oh, yes," Obi-Wan murmured, pressing the erection
up against him that had begun to grow and harden the moment
Qui-Gon put his hand to his belt. "Emotionally..." Without
warning, he flashed on an image of Qui-Gon's face - a scowling,
angry Master Jinn advancing with lightsaber aloft...
The image and the resultant twinge of dismay was unfortunately
carried effectively across their open bond. Obi-Wan gasped and
tensed, shaking his head quickly in denial. Qui-Gon, startled,
released him altogether, stepping back away from him. When
Obi-Wan looked up and saw the horror on his lover's face, he
advanced to take hold of his forearms. "I do not know where
that came from... it doesn't mean anything, Qui-Gon!"
The Master Diplomat shrugged him off, turning away. "I know
where it came from," he muttered, removing his lightsaber hilt
from his belt. "It's from my nightmare... and when I attacked
you. Maki' was right; it was not sparring. I was fighting the
Oraclyne. Perhaps something in me is still." His voice was
hollow, laced with dread. He looked on the hilt with a new
contempt, a bitterness born of the terrible memories he
carried. "I might be better off without this," he added, barely
above a whisper.
Then, to Obi-Wan's shock, Qui-Gon Jinn abruptly used Force to
twist open the 'saber casing roughly and remove the three
matching crystals. He glared at them for a long moment as
Obi-Wan looked on in bewilderment, then handed the crystals to
his apprentice. "Put these away," he murmured, leaving the
room.
[Oh, Force, he can't let this get to him,] Obi-Wan thought in a
daze as he found a box of his among the heap of their
belongings in the corner of the bedroom. [He's a Jedi Master,
his lightsaber is a focal point of his Force power...] His
hands were shaking as he found a small velvet pouch which
contained his own spare crystals. He slipped Qui-Gon's inside
and put the pouch back, then rose to go to his master.
The broken lightsaber casing was discarded on the floor of the
large living room; Qui-Gon was out back on the stone veranda,
sitting cross-legged and facing a wide pool with a little
waterfall flowing into it from an outcropping of rock. He
seemed unaware of the expanse of natural beauty around them,
his focus on calming.
Obi-Wan laid his own lightsaber on a table and went out on the
veranda to join him. Dropping to his knees at his master's
back, he looked down at the long fall of dark brown hair
spilling over the broad back, the front gathered away from
Qui-Gon's face by a leather tie. With one hand, he sifted the
silken mass through his fingers, and with the other he untied
the piece of leather to let the rest fall forward. Then, laying
the tie aside, he filled both hands with his lover's hair and
leaned down to press it against his face.
**What are you doing?** Qui-Gon inquired a bit brokenly.
**Beginning to learn you,** Obi-Wan replied gently, kissing his
hair. **Now, let me say what I'd been about to say.
Emotionally... I need to make love with you, my beloved
Master.**
**I... do not know if I trust myself, Obi-Wan,** the Master
Diplomat responded, leaning back slightly. **Would you meditate
with me first, please?**
The disquiet in the other's mind was hard to ignore. Obi-Wan
sent a pulse of encouragement and love. **Of course, Master.**
He let the beautiful long hair fall forward again, then turned
around to sit so that his back was to Qui-Gon's. **Let us lean
on one another...**
**Yes,** Qui-Gon replied silently, straightening so he could
lean back as Obi-Wan leaned back on him.
Together the Oraclyne calmed and centered, then slipped into
trance.
There was no spirit forest. There was no "where", no place
where their avatars met. Instead the Oraclyne seemed to have
entered a level of consciousness where nothing but color
existed - mad, swirling colors, like a spill of many paints
together. They recognized immediately the significance of the
colors.
Predominantly, there was black and ochre which brightened at
times to a pure yellow. **This is a place for our minds only,**
Obi-Wan told his companion.
**These colors,** Qui-Gon replied soberly. **Black for the dark
side of myself which had been loose. Ochre - yellow of my fears
tainted by Dark.**
**A task for the Oraclyne,** Obi-Wan finished. Within he still
held warm and tight to his lover's mind, their thoughts and
feelings mingling. **What colors to replace them with?**
A brush of love and confidence. **White for the Light. Red for
love, the cream and brown for humanity and our resolve to bring
peace.**
The words fell away. Obi-Wan showed his Oraclys the fierce,
powerful Light within his soul, the Jedi Master's devotion and
dedication to the Order, their Discipline, their new calling to
be Oraclyne. The Light within Qui-Gon Jinn shone out pure and
clear, illuminating every corner of his mind, driving out all
of the black.
**Yes?** one Oraclys queried of the other, awed.
**Oh, yes,** the other replied, proud and serene. **Now, your
heart...**
Obi-Wan then showed his Oraclys the deep ocean of love that
dwelt in the Jedi Master's heart. A few gray streaks remained;
the healed scars of betrayal and love lost. But nothing that
could let the yellow through once the flood waters were
released. Red, the pure, aching love of Oraclys for Oraclys
swirled and played with the White, replacing the yellows and
ochres everywhere.
**Oh...** commented one Oraclys, stunned.
**Indeed, beloved,** replied the other, joyous.
Obi-Wan next showed his Oraclys the pure devotion to peace and
harmony that characterized Qui-Gon Jinn's lifelong purpose as a
Jedi Knight. The cream and brown of the Diplomat Discipline
shot up among the white and the red, intimately tied in with
the man's inner Light and the great love in his heart. To their
wonder and delight, the cream and brown were joined by blue,
surging up, never covering or wiping out the other colors. Blue
for hope... and their growing Healer powers as Oraclyne. Not to
replace the dedication to peace, but to enhance...
Clearly this would bear further contemplation later...
together.
Obi-Wan ascended from the trance first. He remained where he
was, leaning his head back onto his beloved's shoulder, then
turning his face to pillow his cheek against the soft fall of
hair. He felt tranquil, centered, and utterly attuned to the
physical presence of the other.
A moment later, Qui-Gon came back to himself in the here and
now. Feeling the gentle pressure on his back, a smile spread
over his face. He felt restored, the dark fears vanished.
"Obi-Wan," he breathed, and when the pressure let up as his
lover straightened, he turned in one smooth movement to slide
his hand up the side of Obi-Wan's face. A brief, delighted
glance was exchanged, then Qui-Gon's lips were meeting the
younger man's fervently.
As Qui-Gon turned the rest of the way around to pull him into
his arms, Obi-Wan literally moved himself into his lap, his
legs around the Master's hips. **Bond time?** Qui-Gon teased
him, still kissing him deeply. Sitting on the floor together
had been their habit for five years, the rare, precious times
they had taken to work on their bond together. As Obi-Wan had
grown older, "bond times" were farther apart. Of course,
kissing had never been a part of bond time before.
**Something new,** Obi-Wan chuckled into their bond. **Oraclyne
time... time for the two halves of the Jedi Oraclyne to
unite.** He filled his hands with his Oraclys's hair, pulling
it forward to rub against both their cheeks.
**Again, I cannot seem to get enough of your mouth,** Qui-Gon
complained teasingly. He slid his hands down Obi-Wan's back.
**I have other... attributes,** Obi-Wan returned, then gasped
into the other's open mouth as large hands fit around the
globes of his posterior.
**I seem to have found one,** Qui-Gon commented, smirking into
his lover's mouth. **Er, two...**
Astonished, Obi-Wan pulled away to look at him. He opened his
mouth, but the retort never came out. He was too busy looking.
With his hair down and veiling the sides of his face, and with
a teasing light in his eyes, Qui-Gon Jinn looked younger than
his apprentice had ever seen him. Obi-Wan's gaze fell upon the
gently curving smile, then moved back up to the laughing eyes.
"Force, but you're gorgeous with your hair down," he sighed at
last.
"Mmmm, and you're gorgeous, period," Qui-Gon murmured, sobering
as he considered the fresh, youthful blush of the young man's
cheeks, the lively eyes, and lush, supple lips. He was reminded
yet again of his Oraclys's tender age. Serious now, he added,
"I should ask you something..."
"I know," Obi-Wan said quickly, sighing as he continued to
filter the other's long hair though his fingers. "You know I'm
not a virgin, Qui-Gon."
"No, but I have given you your privacy," his master reminded
him. When Obi-Wan was fifteen, master and apprentice had had a
lengthy discussion about sexual practices of Jedi padawans.
Then they worked on shielding so that each - Qui-Gon included -
may have the privacy they needed while with others. On rare
occasions Obi-Wan had brought questions or problems to his
master to discuss with him, otherwise his sexual life was his
own.
"Thank you," Obi-Wan murmured, smiling. "Then you want to know
how experienced I am?"
Qui-Gon smiled tenderly. "It may be good to know."
Obi-Wan sighed again. "I'm the oldest of my circle of friends,
and I've just turned eighteen, so all of my sexual encounters
have been with padawans younger than me. Garen, most of all..."
Aside from his old childhood friend, he named four others whose
names were known to his master. "So, you see, I've been with
both genders, although I think I prefer boys, er, men..." He
flashed a quick grin.
"Garen has been very close to you, I know," Qui-Gon offered
thoughtfully. "Especially since Bant's death."
The reminder did not hurt like it might have a week ago. "Yes,
he has," Obi-Wan confirmed gravely. "It drew us together. He's
been a good friend... and lover. But..." Confused, he frowned.
"But you're not in love with him," Qui-Gon finished for him,
nodding.
"You understand!" Obi-Wan was awed. He cared for Garen, had
enjoyed exploring sexual pleasures with him, but...
Qui-Gon brushed his lips over Obi-Wan's. "Sweet, you forget I
have also had lovers I was not 'in love' with. I care for Raen
and Jil-Ba, and we did enjoy those pleasures together as well.
But we each expected to find a special love of our own."
"Oh..." Now that Qui-Gon's situation was compared to his own
with Garen, Obi-Wan thought he understood finally. "This is
going to be very different, isn't it?"
His master nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Oh,
yes. In many ways. I imagine that I know a few more things than
Garen Muln knows. And this will be Oraclys to Oraclys. It will
never be like that with anyone else, ever."
Obi-Wan shivered with delight, imagining his master to have
every bit as much to teach him about loving and sex as he did
about being a Jedi Knight. "I hope so," he murmured, nuzzling
his master's jaw.
Qui-Gon kissed his hair. "And you've had intercourse with
another boy, Garen, perhaps?" he asked quietly.
His padawan stilled. How to tell him? In the dark times this
past week while resisting the relentless waves of desire,
Obi-Wan had had a lot of time to think about this. "Qui-Gon,"
he murmured, "with each lover I've had... I've always been the
aggressor. Garen in particular was always extremely willing to
be... penetrated." He didn't think he could use the coarser
language with his master that he and his friends had used.
"This... is so different. It's hard to explain, but I do not
want to be the aggressor with you." He swallowed, hoping his
lover could understand. **I want you to take me as you wish,**
he finished mentally. **I want to yield my body to my Oraclys.
Someday perhaps we may be more equal in this sense... but I am
very much your student still, and especially in this, despite
my experience. Please...**
The Master shuddered, deeply aroused by his young lover's
admission and beautiful offer. **Are you sure, love?**
**Very sure... I've fantasized about this for years, if you
must know.** Obi-Wan pressed his face into the side of
Qui-Gon's neck, loving the silken hair against his cheek.
**Very well,** Qui-Gon responded as he slowly got to his feet,
carrying his apprentice who was still firmly wrapped around his
torso. **But you're likely to have a very short apprenticeship
in this matter,** he added, sending a tendril of love and
desire into their bond. As Obi-Wan tightened his legs around
him, he settled his beautiful young lover more closely around
him. He started to carry him back to their bedroom.
**Mmmm, Master...** Obi-Wan murmured, hugging him tightly. The
solid, muscular mass of the Jedi carrying him... and the
shimmering arousal blooming in their bond... served to cause
his erection to harden to a wonderful firmness which already
felt very, very good. **I'm all yours, Oraclys.** He arched his
back, pressing the hard length against Qui-Gon's stomach.
**Still think I'm too young?**
The noise the Master Diplomat emitted was somewhere between a
moan and a growl. **Old enough, apparently, and certainly heavy
enough,** he answered. Having arrived in their bedroom, he
Force-lifted several items off the bed, then sat down on it,
lifting his lover off him to stand on his own feet. "Let me
undress you, love," he whispered.
Obi-Wan reluctantly let himself be removed to stand, unlocking
his ankles from behind Qui-Gon's waist. "By all means... every
means..." he murmured.
Qui-Gon reached for the ties of Obi-Wan's tunic, but as he did
so, he brushed across something hard... and sizable below.
"Mmmm, you *are* ready..." he replied quietly as he untied the
laces that tied the tunic closed. Then he slipped a hand inside
and did the same for the inner tunic until he could brush both
off the young man's shoulders.
When the tunics puddled on the floor around him, Qui-Gon took a
good look at his new lover. [Young, but beautifully formed,] he
noted with pleasure. His padawan's body, though still growing
to his adult height, was firm and tautly muscled, due to his
Jedi training. He was past his adolescent awkwardness, the
planes of his body and face settled into their adult form,
though the slightly plump cheeks still showed the last remnant
of the boy he'd been. His skin glowed with vitality and health,
though that was also a mark of his Jedi nurturing... and his
master's care. As typical of the Force-adept, Obi-Wan's skin
was flawless, his own personal harmony with the Force balancing
out the chemical and hormonal effects of growing up. **My
beauty, my Obi-Wan...** His large hands settled on the young
man's hips. As yet he did not pay attention to the shape
tenting his padawan's leggings.
Obi-Wan stood without embarrassment, confident in his natural
grace and beauty, enjoying the as yet visual examination.
"There's more of me to see," he murmured, winking at his master
when he looked up sharply. **All yours.**
**Mine, truly?** Qui-Gon's fingers went to the ties on the
leggings. There was a mysterious smile on his lips, someplace
between a look of satisfaction and a smirk.
Obi-Wan shivered. "Force, yes..." Then he sighed as the light
fabric was drawn over his hips and down, revealing him fully.
He stepped out of the pool of fabric then set his weight back
on one foot, his hands on his hips, subtly posing. He was proud
of his body, the gift of his Bajrheni genes and intensive Jedi
physical training.
Qui-Gon leaned back on his hands, regarding the vision before
him with a quiet joy. Obi-Wan was a feast indeed, to be enjoyed
slowly and thoroughly.
"Master," Obi-Wan teased, smirking, "you've seen me naked many
times."
Qui-Gon's gaze settled on the rampant erection, jutting out at
right angles to the slim, lithe body. "Never like this," he
sighed, feeling his own hardness swell in response. Abruptly
the Jedi Master rose forward in one smooth movement, clasping
his lover about the hips, pulling him off balance just enough
to surprise. He laid his face aside the other's groin, letting
him feel his hair and beard in a slight nuzzle.
Obi-Wan's arms had flown up in shock as Qui-Gon had come at him
so suddenly, then he shuddered as he felt the tickle of his
master's beard and the silken caress of his hair. He caught his
balance with a touch to the other's shoulder, then his hands
settled on his lover's head, again threading into the long hair
he loved so well.
The elder Oraclys inhaled deeply of his beloved's scent, and
reveled in the feel of the velvet thickness nestled against his
cheek. His hands slowly slid back to the younger Oraclys's
posterior, the large fingers splaying over the sweet roundness.
The gasp above him did not deter his slow quest to gather
sensation. **I want to get you very relaxed, love,** Qui-Gon
informed his lover.
A rush thrummed through Obi-Wan as he realized his master's
intent. [Relaxed... so he can enter me!] he thought, his
fingers tightening in the other's hair as he leaned into him,
pushing forward with his groin. **Oh, Qui-Gon...** he whispered
into their bond, but he had no other words. Already this was
nothing like anything his previous lovers had done with him.
[Something to be said for the knowledge and patience of the
experienced over the quick urgency of youth,] he told himself
with an amused irony. Most of his sexual encounters had
featured a lot of rolling around, hard kisses, a generous
amount of hasty sucking, and finally a quick, heated rutting.
If they went a whole half hour, they considered themselves
lucky.
Then a finger trailed down his crack, pausing to press slightly
on his anus... and Obi-Wan thought he could feel his brain
melting. [I'll be lucky if I can keep standing,] he thought as
the erotic touch pulled a moan out of him. He found himself
thrusting against Qui-Gon's face, shivering at the sensation of
the soft bristles against the shaft of his penis.
**Enjoying yourself?** Qui-Gon asked with a wicked mental
chuckle that startled his young apprentice.
**What??** Obi-Wan could barely breathe, much less think. [Oh,
Force, no, a side of Qui-Gon Jinn I haven't seen before!] He
shot back, **Not half as much as you, apparently! Master,
you're a terrible tease!**
**Thank you,** Qui-Gon returned, then turned his face to place
his lips along the hard, swollen length of his lover's
erection. **The newness will soon wear off, and I have no doubt
whatsoever you'll be giving back every bit as good as you get.
I know you, Obi-Wan.**
**You do?** Obi-Wan thrust against his lover's mouth, wanting
more desperately. Now that this had begun, his need was
spiking.
**You have a delightful sense of humor, my Padawan,** Qui-Gon
replied dryly. **And I'm sure you'll handily adapt it to
many... situations.**
Obi-Wan laughed out loud then, even as he thrust hard against
the tongue that was teasing at his foreskin. A sharp gasp
followed as lips closed around the head of his penis.
Abruptly a surge of Force-energy exploded between them;
automatically the highly telepathic minds of the Jedi Oraclyne
acted in concert to contain it, erecting joint shields around
them both. They froze in position as the Force bloomed in their
minds, using their deepened Master-Padawan bond as a conduit.
**The Oraclyne connection,** they both thought, stunned. Then
they became aware of what they'd just done together, as if they
were one mind. **Don't move,** Qui-Gon added in caution.
**Did we shield... together? I never knew that was
possible...**
**We will be spending most of our time here working on that
archive.**
**And in bed.** There was a mental chuckle from Obi-Wan. **Not
that I mind. But we haven't even...**
**Penetration,** Qui-Gon reminded him. **Remember, it took only
a kiss to complete our initial imprinting. This is... more
intense.**
Obi-Wan indulged in a moan, returning his attention to the
coursing energies now dancing between them. He clutched
Qui-Gon's head harder, needing that anchor to maintain his
threatened balance. **This is more than... intense! Force!**
Qui-Gon almost broke contact, so surprised was he when a mental
image bloomed in his mind. Obi-Wan, arching above him in
pleasure, only it was again the two-faced image from before,
before he released the dark energies. Xanatos was here, head
thrown back in blissful sensing... or was it Obi-Wan?
**Xanatos!** Qui-Gon cried half in confusion, half in entreaty,
though he was careful to keep his lover in his mouth, not sure
yet of the consequences if he released him.
He heard Obi-Wan's gasp, but there was no confusion from his
end of the bond, only joy. **We are uniting, Xani...**
**Never leave you, Obi... beloved Qui-Gon...**
Qui-Gon saw the pale eyes of the spirit look straight at him,
tears of relief and love streaming down the pale cheeks.
**Xanatos...** The Master Diplomat did not know what to say to
him, hoping his former padawan was close to his peace.
**Become one,** Xanatos said to them, surrounding them with
love through the Force. **Unite, join... become Oraclyne. I
will rest soon.**
Then he was gone. Qui-Gon shivered, unsettled by the brief
encounter, then his hands clenched on Obi-Wan's buttocks. **We
shall be united,** he sent through their bond with a strong
affirmation of his love. He slid off the edge of the bed onto
his knees, then took the whole of Obi-Wan's member into his
mouth and throat. **We shall be Oraclyne!**
**We shall be... Oraclyne!** Obi-Wan responded, gasping as
Qui-Gon took him in, his hands tightly wrapped around lengths
of his master's hair. As expected, the deeper contact dialed up
the intensity of the Force-stream thrumming around them both.
Their shield was checked, then the Oraclyne gave itself up to
sensation as one Oraclys began to thrust into the mouth of the
other.
Obi-Wan had never felt anything like it. Qui-Gon's tongue and
throat muscles were expertly working him down his entire length
while concentrating also on the sensitive head. And the long
finger pressing against his anus had begun to massage the
nerve-rich tissues with a slow circular motion. Obi-Wan had the
brief thought that he was going to come too soon, when a
caressing thought from his beloved reassured him.
**You are going to need to relax completely to take me in,
love,** Qui-Gon murmured within his mind. **You can't be
telling me you will not be able to climax a second time then?**
**Are you always going to tease me when you're driving me into
a frenzy?** Obi-Wan shot back, moaning as he continued to
thrust hard into his lover's mouth. **Force!**
**Then come for me, beloved.** Qui-Gon pressed a little more
insistently against his lover's rear entrance, using Force in
lieu of lubrication to open him a little. He slipped the tip of
one finger just inside the double-ring of muscles.
That was all that was needed. Crying out, Obi-Wan came
convulsively, his climax shuddering through his entire being -
mind, body, soul - spurting his fluids deep into his beloved's
throat. The Force shuddered through them both, twining their
minds and life forces even more closely together, their bond
trembling with ecstasy even as the Oraclyne connection vibrated
with the joy of union. And they had a greater union yet to
complete.
Qui-Gon continued to work his beloved's organ even as he
pressed the finger in deeper. He knew later he would enjoy
seeing the splendor of his young lover as he came; right now it
was more than enough to share his intense pleasure in their
linked minds. And his shock when he climaxed yet again... and
again, thanks to his master's additional touches to certain
pleasure centers in his mind.
The finger brushed lightly against Obi-Wan's prostate. Yet
another whole new wave of sensations exploded in him at the
touch and his knees buckled. As he shuddered and moaned in
reaction, he felt his penis slip from his lover's mouth
finally, a strong arm supporting him. The finger withdrew
finally though he still felt waves of orgasm course through
him. He felt, rather than saw, his lover's deep smile in his
mind, then felt knuckles pressed carefully against his
perineum, setting off a whole new chain of pleasure spikes.
When Obi-Wan was no more than a boneless heap of trembling
nerves, he was lifted and laid on the bed.
[Oh... Force...] he thought distantly, wondering if he'd died
somewhere in there. [I've never... it's never been... not like
*that*... not...] How many times had he peaked? He'd heard of
multiple orgasms, but had not had a clue - until now - how such
a feat was accomplished. It made every orgasm he'd ever had
with another or by himself pale in comparison. Then he realized
- Qui-Gon was not touching him at the moment.
His eyes flew open to see Qui-Gon kneeling with one knee on the
bed as he removed his tunics, watching Obi-Wan with a deep,
satisfied gleam in his eyes. "Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan croaked,
propping himself up on an elbow to reach for him, but felt too
spineless to complete the effort. He lay back. "You'd
never seen him erect. His endowments were... substantial.
"Sith, Qui-Gon, I'd say you're the one with the *head-start*,"
he quipped back, nodding at his genitals. Then he looked up the
length of the Jedi Master and sucked his breath in at the
sight: Qui-Gon Jinn, his long hair spilled over his chest and
shoulders, stray strands over part of his face, eyes of dark
blue gazing longingly at him...
Hastily Obi-Wan pulled himself away from that intense gaze in
order to look at the rest of him. The broad, muscular chest
tapered down to a slim waist and hard, flat stomach - long arms
and longer thighs and calves muscled but not bulky... at age
forty-seven, Qui-Gon Jinn possessed a beautifully sculpted body
honed from nearly thirty years as an adult Jedi, from intense
training and field work that could be as hard on the body as on
the mind and spirit.
He was the most magnificent thing Obi-Wan had ever seen.
"You're beautiful," he sighed as his lover knelt on the bed
again, his large fist slowly stroking his own hard member in
preparation.
"You've seen me naked," Qui-Gon reminded him, smiling, his gaze
still fixed on his padawan's slightly hooded eyes. Obi-Wan in
wanton, post-climactic languor was the most magnificent thing
he'd ever seen.
"Never like this," Obi-Wan sighed, and reached a hand for him
again. "Need to touch you, Oraclys..."
"Yes," Qui-Gon sighed deeply, lacing their fingers together as
he settled onto his side. He collected his padawan's slim body
against his, then bent to kiss him, his dark hair falling down
around both their faces.
Obi-Wan arched with returning need as he tasted his own fluids
in Qui-Gon's mouth. He groaned deep in his throat and into
their still simmering bond. When his beloved released his
fingers to pull him closer, Obi-Wan reached down and closed his
hand around the thick length of the other's erect penis.
**Ah, yes, Obi-Wan, my precious love, my Obi,** Qui-Gon moaned
into the bond, deepening their kiss. **I love you, my Oraclys,
half of my heart...**
Before Obi-Wan could respond, a very unwanted image of his
master came to his mind: Qui-Gon glaring at him with
undisguised venom and disgust...
This time the Jedi Master was ready, flooding his lover's mind
with his love and joy in him. **Wasn't me... you healed me of
that,** he told him insistently, not letting this image mar
their lovemaking. **I am no longer ill, Beloved.** Their lips
parted, but Qui-Gon only held him closer and tighter.
**Where did that come from?** Obi-Wan asked, bewildered. He
buried his face in the crook of his lover's neck. He'd already
released Qui-Gon's penis, his arms now folded against his
chest.
**We will discover that later. The images cannot hurt us. Be
mindful of the moment, my love. I am here and I love you.**
Qui-Gon laid fervent kisses against his lover's hair.
"Love you," Obi-Wan mumbled against Qui-Gon's throat. "Need..."
"I know what you need, what we both need," Qui-Gon whispered in
a husky voice as he released him, sitting up again. "Shhh..."
He caressed his beloved soothingly, gentling him. "Relax again,
my Obi-Wan..."
The image was gone again as if it had never been. Obi-Wan
settled onto his back, and parted his legs. "Need you," he
sighed deeply. "Need you inside me."
The sight of his beautiful, loving padawan, opening his legs to
him in such an offer, smote the Master Diplomat deeply, and he
moaned, feeling the need surging between them in their bond. He
sat back on his heels between the parted legs and hesitated to
Force-lift one of his packs to him. In moments he'd retrieved a
tube of ointment that would serve the purpose. "Even the Force
needs help," he murmured, laying a quick kiss on the inside of
one of Obi-Wan's thighs.
Obi-Wan shivered, biting back a retort at his master's
continued teasing. "*I* need help," he reminded him sharply.
"I... I've only let Garen do this to me once," he added,
turning his face away. [And Garen has nothing on Qui-Gon,] he
thought, still wanting this badly but wishing now he'd had a
few more experiences in being penetrated.
Qui-Gon rose up to lean over him, turning the other's face back
to him. He looked deep into the wide blue eyes of his young
lover. "Are you sure you want this, Obi? I would be just as
happy to have you inside me," he whispered, his gaze loving and
tender.
The memory of his lover gently rubbing his anus came back to
him. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, knowing the thought was already
shared with the other. "Very sure," he answered breathily.
"Please..."
**I cannot refuse you,** Qui-Gon replied mentally with a wink,
sitting back to kiss the inside of Obi-Wan's knee. **But turn
over for me, please, so I may prepare you better.**
**I want...**
**I want to see your face as well,** Qui-Gon finished for him.
**But first we need you ready.** When Obi-Wan sat up and turned
over, he gently pulled on the young man's hips to raise him to
his knees. "Mmmm, much better..."
Obi-Wan crossed his arms and pillowed his head on them, closing
his eyes. This, too, was a new vulnerability for him, to be
kneeling with his rear end in the air like this, and he
shivered once until he felt Qui-Gon's gentling hands stroke his
sides until he calmed. "Ready," he whispered, caressing his
beloved's mind.
The caress was warmly returned, then he felt the large hands
settle on his hips as Qui-Gon positioned himself behind him.
The hands shifted once, his lover's thumbs pressing on the
inner side of his cheeks to allow better access to the opening.
Obi-Wan breathed deeply, adjusting to the sensation, then felt
a jolt of pure lust shoot up his spine as something wet and
definitely not a finger passed over his anus. It was Qui-Gon's
tongue. He gasped, nearly pulling forward, but the calming
touch in his mind soothed him immediately. The tongue darted in
again, and Obi-Wan had to concentrate on his breathing as his
lover softened him with his tongue to relax him.
"Oh, Qui, so good," Obi-Wan sighed deeply, now pressing back
into the warm wetness.
Qui-Gon smiled to himself as he continued to lave his tongue
over the opening, though with one hand he was now thumbing the
tube of ointment open. Then he laid a kiss on one cheek as he
straightened. "You're ready for more," he murmured, applying
the cream to a finger.
The slight coolness felt nice, and Obi-Wan was even prepared -
mentally at least - when the slick finger eased into his
entrance slowly, slipping past one ring of muscle, then the
next. The finger stopped, and gratefully Obi-Wan processed the
sensation, adjusting. He felt a deep peace and complete trust
in his heart, knowing that Qui-Gon was linked to his every
sensation. His lover would know exactly when to proceed,
exactly when to pause. And sure enough, when he felt he'd
adjusted to the presence of the one finger inserted into his
anus, the finger began to move again.
It felt... wonderful. And, as before, the Force surged between
them yet again, for this, too, was union, Oraclys into Oraclys.
Obi-Wan was ready for the second finger in moments. He found
himself floating in a haze of pleasurable, erotic sensations,
his previous languor and his master's tender care allowing him
to relax as he never had before. Sighing his contentment, he
pushed back as if helping his lover with the process. He could
feel himself stretching, opening, and his ache to be filled
increased.
They knew in the same instant when he was ready. Qui-Gon gently
helped Obi-Wan turn over, and the sight of his young love's
relaxed bliss warmed him considerably. Obi-Wan drew his knees
up towards his shoulders without prompting, holding himself
open and ready. **Now, Beloved... now...**
Qui-Gon applied ointment lavishly to his organ, then positioned
the head at Obi-Wan's opening. He held it there for a moment,
making an adjustment of his own. Despite all the preparation,
he knew well that his size was too much for the smaller man to
take without pain and eventual soreness. Deep into his
beloved's mind he went, even as Obi-Wan looked on in wonder.
Instinctively he found the pain centers and applied a
dampening. Directly after he could heal the stressed tissues to
prevent the soreness, but now he would not allow his lover any
pain.
Obi-Wan automatically centered himself, accepting the decision
of his Oraclys. There had been no asking. Given the awful
events of the past week, he could understand well that Qui-Gon
would be exactingly careful to avoid hurting his padawan.
**I still want this,** Obi-Wan insisted in case Qui-Gon had any
second thoughts.
**So do I,** Qui-Gon replied soberly.
**I'm going to surprise you,** Obi-Wan could not help teasing.
**I am counting on that, my Obi-Wan.** Still sober, calm,
feeling their power as lovers, Oraclyne, Jedi. Taking a deep
breath, watching with eyes and mind, Qui-Gon pressed into his
Oraclys.
They needn't have worried. They were Oraclys and Oraclys, and
destined to unite. Nothing, not the size of an organ or the
size of an opening, could interfere with the Oraclyne
connection's fierce mandate to join together these two bodies.
As Qui-Gon slid within, it was suddenly as if one body adjusted
to fit the other, defying anatomy. Stunned, the Master found
nearly his entire length within his lover's body which had
taken him in with incredible ease.
Obi-Wan looked just as stunned, but his expression melted to
pleasure at the deep massaging stroke against his prostate.
**More,** he sighed into his lover's mind as he lifted his legs
and linked his ankles behind Qui-Gon's neck, shifting to take
him in even deeper.
The shift caused something between them to click into place;
this union of bodies enabling the Jedi Oraclyne to swell to its
final fullness. The imprinting that had been done a week ago
was only the beginning of the process of creating the Oraclyne.
This more complete union of bodies coupled with the blended
minds achieved what had been started a week ago on that fateful
journey to Belvin Three.
For a full minute, the Oraclyne was lost in the glory of
existence. Union. Its brightest functions would ever include
the act of Healing, but the mere act of Union would ever enable
the full beauty of its Healing powers.
In a parlor within the main building of the Jedi retreat center
on Dantooine, a Master Healer suddenly lurched to his feet and
strode away from his companion. He hugged his arms to himself,
feeling... he did not know what it was. Something wonderful.
The tiny Master Contemplative nodded. "Shielded, they are,"
Yoda murmured. "Joined... yet you can sense them, hmmm, Master
Makol'?"
Maki' shook his head, feeling his eyes fill with tears, the
beauty of what he was somehow allowed to sense making his heart
ache. "I do not know how, Master Yoda," he murmured.
"A bond with them, you cannot have..." Yoda softly reminded
him.
"I know..." Maki' turned back suddenly, looking the way of the
ancient Jedi. Yoda had a bond with Qui-Gon, now broken and gone
so his former padawan could be Oraclyne. "Then how...?"
"Close, you have been to them," the other observed calmly.
"Something new this is, perhaps."
Maki' only turned away and closed his eyes. "Something tells me
we have mysteries yet to uncover concerning the Oraclyne." He
sighed. [Be well, be happy, my friends...]
Their joy was only just blooming. Their gazes and minds locked
together, Qui-Gon began to move within his Oraclys. He leaned
far over him now, collecting the slim body in his arms, looking
deep into his eyes as he thrust in and out of him. They'd left
words far behind; now all that was left was the love and their
shared sensations.
Obi-Wan had shifted his legs so that his ankles rubbed against
his lover's back, his hands now linked behind Qui-Gon's neck.
Their faces were inches apart, their mental and physical
communion revealed in their expressions. Gone was the
Oraclyne's former anxiety, the fierce need to unite. Replacing
that was a very Jedi-like serenity, a oneness with the Force
and each other. Even passion and desire seemed far away, swept
aside in the Oraclyne's calm bliss of union.
Calm or not, there would be completion. Their joy was
paramount, their exultation in joining their bodies and minds.
This drove their sensations, pulling them toward their final
release. On and on the delicious fire built within them both,
the Force running full and free between them.
Until nothing could contain it. Qui-Gon rose up, linking hands
with Obi-Wan who arched up off the bed as they both climaxed,
both throwing back their heads and crying out in a wordless
scream, the Force exploding within and around them. The
reverberations, caught within their adamantine shield, echoed
back and forth between them for many long minutes until,
trembling, Qui-Gon collapsed. Obi-Wan, too, was deeply shaken,
and when his lover slipped out of him, he gave a whimper of
loss. Immediately Qui-Gon pulled him in tight against his body.
This one, immense orgasm was more than enough. Power simmered
in their minds, but their bodies were spent in the effort.
A mile away, Maki' Windsailor sat down hastily to keep from
fainting. [Somehow I was allowed to touch their united power,]
he thought, thrilling. [I wonder if they know?]
A good while later, when the Oraclyne seemed to have "come down
to ground", Qui-Gon lifted his head to look at Obi-Wan again.
"Love..." he sighed, stroking his cheek with the back of a
finger. "Do you think that was in the archive?"
The question struck Obi-Wan as incredibly funny and he writhed
against his lover, laughing. "We ought to write our own!"
Qui-Gon grinned, but his words were serious. "I am sure we
ought to, Padawan." He winked, then grew thoughtful and awed,
looking over the sweaty face and tousled hair of his very sated
Oraclys. "I was right... the vision of my Obi-Wan coming is the
most beautiful sight in the galaxy." He looked down then to the
puddle of semen on his lover's belly. "And I've discovered a
new favorite flavor."
Abruptly the Jedi Master dove in for his prize. Obi-Wan nearly
leaped off the bed in shock but said Master had pinned him in
place while he cleaned his lover with his tongue. Gasping,
Obi-Wan clutched his beloved's head, though in a moment it was
because he needed something to hold onto, as said beloved had
decided to clean off his penis as well.
Then, just as suddenly, Qui-Gon sat back up, dark hair flying
back, a definite smirk on his face. He had warning; Obi-Wan's
eyes had narrowed at him before he hauled him back down for a
kiss.
**Do you have any idea what tasting my semen in your mouth does
to me?** Obi-Wan asked, slipping his tongue inside.
**Of course,** Qui-Gon chuckled into his lover's mouth.
Happy, Obi-Wan simply sagged against him and continued to kiss
him leisurely. **I'm not entirely sure I love this new side of
you I've discovered,** he couldn't help teasing back. **Perhaps
it's a new mental illness.**
The twinge from those words was gone before Obi-Wan was sure
he'd even sensed it from his lover. **Perhaps,** Qui-Gon
replied, smoothly. **I think I will enjoy this new insanity.**
**I did not mean to say that, Master,** Obi-Wan said hastily.
He ended the kiss and pressed his nose against Qui-Gon's cheek.
"You're well, you're better than well now."
"Yes, I am, Padawan. Thanks to you, my Oraclys." Qui-Gon kissed
his hair tenderly, then closed his arms around him again.
"Sometime... we will need to talk."
"More than that," the elder Jedi murmured, fingering the
padawan braid spilling down the younger Jedi's back. "There are
other issues."
"Issues?"
Qui-Gon sighed, sensing how sleepy his beloved was growing. He,
too, felt the post-coitus languor claiming him. "The flashing
images, for one."
"Oh." Fingers raised to idly tangle in a lock of long hair.
"Something unresolved still?"
"Yes," the Master replied soberly. "And I believe there is more
to do concerning Xanatos. I must... I must forgive and accept
him. I feel it."
Obi-Wan was waking up a bit again, thinking about his beloved's
words. "I had to accept Xanatos into myself. We... merged.
Perhaps the Oraclyne connection demands that of you as well."
"I think so," Qui-Gon whispered. "And there is one more thing.
Maki'."
Obi-Wan sat up abruptly to look down at him. "I thought I'd
sensed... that was he? Maki' got some feedback from us? But we
were shielded!"
"It's worse than that - we do *not* have any sort of a bond
with him. Nothing should have reached him through our shield.
Nothing should have gotten through to anyone. And I do not
sense that anything has." Qui-Gon sighed. "I'm suspecting
something as yet unknown about the Oraclyne is at fault. Likely
it's in that damnable archive."
"We *will* write our own," Obi-Wan replied, then settled back
down against his master's body. "Any more surprises?"
"That is more than enough."
"Good," the younger Oraclys sighed. "I'm going to sleep."
And in minutes they both were.
Maki' Windsailor was checking on the loading of the Zevdrani
Oraclyne's database into the Dantooine Jedi Temple's main
computer. To his relief, the loading was nearly complete
already, and he could begin to access it from the room he was
staying at in the retreat center. [At least I can scroll ahead
to where I left off on Vitruga,] he thought morosely. [I wonder
if I can convince T'kennu to assign a team of about ten Healers
to redo this - if he can spare them for one Standard year...]
He had just about found the last section he'd read when he was
interrupted by a sharp rap on his door. [Yoda,] he noted, and
gestured with Force to open the door. "Master Yoda," he called
as the little Contemplative shuffled in, "I was just about to
return to my study of the Oraclyne database."
"Study that, you should," Yoda observed, peering at the
vidscreen. "How feel you, Master Makol'?"
Maki' hadn't as much as looked at him yet. "Me? Oh, I'm fine,
itching to get back to work on this, I guess. After all,
*they're* not going to be around for a while." He flipped a
thumb in the direction of the Oraclyne's remote cottage.
"Care for them... you do," Yoda added, looking up at the Healer
solemnly.
Now Maki' looked down. "Me, ah... the Oraclyne is essentially
my patient, Master, of course I care for them."
"Mmmm, feel deeply for them, you do. Sense this, I do. Examine
your feelings, Master Healer."
"I..." Maki' was about to retort that of course he felt no such
thing, but there was the psychic feedback from the Oraclyne
during their lovemaking that apparently only he sensed. "I
cannot care for them like that, Master Yoda," he said finally.
"For one thing, we already know that each Oraclys can only love
and be attracted to their own Oraclys."
"Jedi Oraclyne, they be," Yoda observed, nodding as he leaned
on his stick. "All the difference, this makes. Like no other,
they are."
"I... *can't*," Maki' added, exasperated. "If I have such
inappropriate feelings, I will see if someone can take over
their case."
"Hmmm, your padawan... how long ago was he Knighted?"
Maki' shook his head, bewildered at what that had to do with
anything. "Two years ago."
"Take a new padawan you should, perhaps, mmmm?" Yoda tapped him
gently on the leg with his stick. "Do you good, it will. Spoken
to T'kennu, I have. Agrees with me, he does."
[Oh, great, one little green Contemplative teaming up with one
tree-trunk of a Myrkrian Neti to make my life miserable again,]
Maki' thought, though a good half of him sparked at the
prospect. He did enjoy teaching. [But the Oraclyne...]
"Think about it, Master Makol'," Yoda murmured. "Now, this
database, show me you must."
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