Master Apprentice Archive Quick search:

Archive: MA and QAJ

Category: POV (Qui), Qui/Mace, Qui/Other, Drama

Rating: NC-17

Summary: With Obi-Wan and Xanatos off-planet, Qui has a relaxing morning with Mace and then ends up running into a couple of old -- um, friends.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Disclaimer: Lucas owns the GFFA, and most of the characters herein are his invention. Aubris Feln belongs to the QAJ girls.

Notes: This is my last episode as a full-on QAJ writer! It's been a wonderful year, and I've been thrilled to be here. I'm glad to have met so many people in TPM fandom, and it's going to be great seeing the new QAJ writers stepping up to the plate and showing us where the boys go next. :) With much love to Emma and Rita, as always, and my thanks to the QAJ writers for their beta notes. :)

Click here for the complete episode list.

(Qui)

Mace's hands make tight fists in my hair as I suck him down my throat. There's something to be said for uncomplicated sex with a good friend.

His cock tastes of microplas, a result of Mace's traditional caution where sex is concerned -- he insisted on wearing a barrier while I sucked him off. And he's probably right -- it's a good idea -- but I miss the taste of skin under my tongue.

I miss the taste of Xan's skin. I want him to come home to me.

Mace tugs hard at my hair, getting my attention. I stop thinking of Xan and Obi and what seems like it's becoming an interminably long mission, and concentrate on the cock in my mouth, the scent of Mace's sweat, the tight grip he has on the hair at my temples.

He thrusts up hard into my mouth, taking my breath for a moment before groaning, making more of those soft, familiar noises as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

And then he shudders under me, and I feel his cock pulsing, the rise and fall of the surface of the barrier as he comes. I keep licking and sucking until he's completely spent, much longer than I could go on a man who wasn't wearing a barrier, and when he's ready for me to stop, he pushes me back.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asks.

I roll to his side in the bed while he disposes of the barrier and cleans himself up. "A bit," I admit. I wonder if any of my other lovers would have asked such a thing after I'd sucked them off. Mace is so observant. "And you?"

"I'm not the one who's been growling like a thunderwolf," Mace points out. He slides down the bed far enough to stretch out, letting out a sigh as he does.

I have been growling, but not as much as I could be. I shake my head at Mace. "I just miss them," I tell him.

"And there's nothing wrong with that. Still," he smirks, "it's been, what, a good year and a half since we've ended up in bed together? You must be desperate for distraction."

I lift my eyebrows at him. "I wasn't aware I had to be desperate to proposition you."

"I didn't say you were desperate sexually, Qui-Gon. I said you were desperate for distraction. Now tell me what's wrong."

I shake my head. "Nothing other than the obvious."

He fixes me with a look, and I sigh; he and I both know there's more I'm not telling him. After a while, though, he shrugs, knowing I can keep secrets if I feel a need to do so. "Fine," he says. "But you know I'm here for you if you ever need someone to talk to..."

"Of course, Mace, and I thank you for that." I roll over, give him a quick embrace and a glancing kiss over his temple, and then slide my hand over his head, grinning at the feel of his smooth skin under my fingers.

He bats at my hand, snorting lightly at me. "You don't rub that for luck, you know."

"Oh? What should I be rubbing for luck?" I leer at him.

He glances down my body at my still-waiting erection. "There are other likelier targets in the room..."

"Maybe I'd rather have you rubbing at that for luck."

"Maybe I'd rather watch you," he counters. "Feel like showing off for me?"

I grin. I'm more a voyeur than an exhibitionist, usually, but it's always fun to show off for Mace. I settle onto my back, one leg bent at the knee, hand grazing over my chest, teasing my nipples while he watches. My other hand makes its way up my thigh. It glides over the warm skin of my sac, and then cups my cock lightly. My eyes close and my breathing goes steady. I do enjoy showing off for an audience; I just don't do it as often as I used to.

"Nice," Mace murmurs. I can feel the bed shifting and moving as he stretches out and turns on his side to get a better view. His hand reaches out, and I feel the warmth of his touch across my chest, a slight tingle where his fingertips have been as they make swirling, spiralled patterns all over.

I wrap my hand around my cock and begin stroking myself, twisting at the head as I let my breathing become uneven. There's something so different about pulling oneself off in front of an audience as compared to masturbating at home, in an effort to get off as quickly as possible. I put my teeth together as I shudder, knowing Mace is watching my every movement.

I scratch my nipple lightly, then pinch down hard, exhaling softly at the feel of that. I tighten my grip on my cock and stroke harder, a little faster.

Mace withdraws his fingertips, and I moan softly, part of me missing the connection and part of me glad to be here on my own this way. I can let fantasies sweep me away.

Obi-Wan, after he's come home from 'saber practice. The scent of his sweat, clean somehow, freshly earned, and the sticky feel of his skin all over mine as I pound him into the wall.

Kneeling in front of my once-master, years after I'd been knighted, taking his cock into my mouth for the first time, the cool touch of his fingers on my cheek as I drove my mouth down hard over him, hearing Dooku's voice so far above me as he told me how long he'd waited for this--

It's the last image that does it for me, and I go over, arching up in the bed and spilling my come over my hand, groaning. I fall back into the pillows, gasping, cock still pulsing in my hand. Force, that last image was unexpected.

Mace offers me a towel and waits for me to come back to myself completely before saying anything. And when he does, it's a calm-voiced, "That was gorgeous, Qui-Gon."

I wince as I finish cleaning myself up and give him a wry grin. "Thanks."

We spend a few more minutes talking about nothing in particular before I get up to leave, pulling my robes on and not quite looking at Mace as I do. I doubt he was eavesdropping on my thoughts -- Mace is hardly the type to attempt to listen in, even at moments like that -- but I can't help thinking that if my thoughts are bending toward Master Dooku again, I should be alone with them.

Mace kisses me goodbye at the doorway, and I smile at him, tugging him a little closer for a second kiss. "Thanks for the evening," I tell him.

"Any time, Qui-Gon. Though I imagine once Xanatos and Obi-Wan are back, I'll need to take a number."

"Or make an appointment," I tease. "A private meeting with Master Windu does tend to pre-empt anything else on my schedule."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Mace deadpans. "Go on, then. Get some rest." He smiles, just a little. "Let your thoughts settle down a little."

I stiffen, wondering if I was wrong. If he really was listening in. But the suspicion passes quickly, and I nod at him, heading out the door and making my way down to my quarters.

Back in my quarters, I check my messages, hoping for some news about Obi-Wan and Xanatos. I know it's a slim chance, but it's been weeks, and I'd hoped their mission would be coming to an end by now. Any day we'll hear that they're back on their way to us, and I'll be able to let this knot of tension in the pit of my stomach go. Any day now.

But the messages have nothing to do with Obi-Wan or Xan, and the one that most catches my attention is an invitation to a diplomatic function taking place fourthday evening. I receive a good many such invitations, and decline most of them, but this time I look at the sender's name and blink in surprise.

I'd thought he was off-planet; I haven't seen him in nearly four months. And he's simply back now, without giving me a word of warning, without telling anyone he was here? I shake my head. That's just like Master Dooku. He takes too much pleasure in shocking people.

I'm curious what he'll be up to at the function -- what he's been doing these past months -- and I reread the invitation, knowing I'm going to accept purely for the opportunity to see him. I have a passing famliarity with the groups that are apparently hosting this gathering -- Master Dooku and his contingent from Serreno, the viceroy of Ivlana and his associates, the ruling council of Octavus. The combination is a bit startling; I didn't realize any of these planets had anything in common with the others. They're not in the same region, they don't share similar exports or imports, they don't have any common trade agreements -- how odd. Still, if anyone's capable of bringing unusual groups of people together, it's my once-master. Charismatic does not begin to describe him.

It's going to be a fairly large gathering, if the number of hosts, the location, and the wording of the invitation is any indication. Though I'm certain I'll know some of the people there, I suspect I'll be more comfortable if I have someone friendly to talk to throughout the evening. I grin and comm T'nell.

T'nell's not home, so I leave him a message. "T'nell, this is Qui-Gon. I'd like to know if you're free fourthday evening; I've been invited to a--" Don't call it a 'diplomatic function'; that doesn't sound like much fun at all-- "gathering at the Eolus Atrium, and I thought perhaps you'd like to join me. There's going to be a good bit of mingling, and you might have the opportunity to meet some people, but I promise not to let you get... lonely... over the course of the evening." I smile, hoping my voice sounds as seductive as I mean it to. It's always so difficult to tell what one's voice sounds like if the object of one's affection isn't nearby and there's no body language to pick up on. "Though if I do... I'll be happy to make it up to you afterwards. Let me know if you're free."

I disconnect and finish checking my messages. T'nell ought to make the gathering that much more interesting... to say nothing of what we'll do after the gathering.

The rest of the day is devoted to self-maintenance -- meditation, taking care of my quarters, double-checking my schedule for the rest of the week, making certain I have my lessons prepared for my classes and seminars. I wonder if I've always found this sort of busywork so boring, or if there's something inherently dull about being alone while doing these things. There were often times when Obi-Wan was younger that I thought I'd give nearly anything for an hour's rest, half a day's peace and quiet. Now that he's not here, I can't imagine why I wanted him to go. I miss him.

I can't simply stay in my quarters feeling sorry for myself, though, so I reserve a training salle and make my way across the Temple. I've barely gotten five meters when my commlink chirps, and I pause on my way to the salles in order to answer it. "Yes?"

"Qui-Gon -- it's T'nell. I'm sorry I couldn't comm earlier; I was in the creche taking care of some excitable younglings." I can hear the grin in his voice. T'nell works very well with children. He says some days are exhausting, but mostly he finds the experience rewarding. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." I step to the side of the hall and rest against the wall, smiling already. "And yourself?"

"Fine as well, thank you. I'm calling about your invitation--"

"Ah, you got my message. I'm glad to hear it."

"Yes, well..." He pauses, sounding slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I'll certainly enjoy seeing you there. But as it happens, I was invited by someone else not two hours before you sent your message. And I told him I'd go with him. He's a bit on the shy side, so I wanted to be sure he had someone around he'd feel comfortable with..."

"And who wouldn't feel comfortable around you?" I ask, grinning. T'nell may be the nicest being on Coruscant; of course he'd want to take care of one of his friends. And if I'm feeling just a hint of envy -- first Obi-Wan and Xanatos abandon me; now T'nell, too? -- then I hope I manage to cover it, because he deserves better. "I hope you enjoy yourself, T'nell. And I'll see you there."

"I'm sorry," T'nell says. "But yes, yes, I'll see you there. Are you busy before that? We could have dinner." His voice lowers. "We could have dessert."

I chuckle. "I have no particular plans for the rest of the week, it so happens. But let's play it by ear, shall we? I'm off to the salles for some exercise at the moment. Shall I comm you when I'm finished?"

"Oh -- mm -- actually, I'm going off to Rising tonight. You could join me," he adds, sounding hopeful.

"I don't think I'm in the mood for Rising tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Comm me tomorrow. Not too early," he teases.

"Have fun, T'nell."

"I will."

I sigh as I disconnect. It's probably better for both of us this way; as much as I like T'nell, as much as I enjoy spending time in his company, I also know full well that part of the reason I call him is because he reminds me of Obi-Wan. The same youthful energy, the same near-innocence.

I miss my padawan.

I keep heading for the training salles, having come to the conclusion that exercise is likely the best thing for this wave of self-pity I've been feeling. Once I've been at the katas for a few minutes, I'll stop thinking so much. I need that right now. Mindless exercise, the movements of bodies drowning out the need to think or consider the future, the past, anything but the present moment...

Maybe I should go to Rising after all. Maybe later tonight, if I'm not too tired. But T'nell already had plans, and going out just to fuck or be fucked by relative strangers doesn't sound as appealing as it once did. Sex with strangers hardly seems worth it if I'm not coming home with someone I care about.

I wait outside the salle I've reserved -- I'm a few minutes early -- and rest against the wall. I'm so tired, and I wonder when this feeling came on. Have I been this exhausted all day? Since leaving Mace's? All week? Since Obi-Wan and Xanatos left Coruscant? I think it's becoming more obvious how much I depend on both of them. Force, I hope they're safe.

The doors slide open, and a blond head nods at me as the salle's former occupant walks past. "Master Jinn," he nods.

I shake myself out of my thoughts and look up. "Knight Feln," I reply. "How are you?"

He stops in his tracks, turning his head slightly so I can see his profile. We haven't spoken much since I outright refused to sign his letter of recommendation and he stalked out of my quarters. Since then, he's kept out of trouble, and I've heard nothing but good things from his colleagues and mentors. I wonder if I've been too harsh with him. Everyone deserves a second chance.

All this goes through my mind in the course of a few microseconds, as Aubris turns fully around to look at me. "I'm fine," he says. "And you?"

"I've been doing fine myself," I tell him. I look him over as I go on; I can't quite help myself. He's flushed, sweating lightly; his tunic hangs open in the front, and the harsh lights in the hallway do nothing to detract from the pleasant way he holds himself, the way his muscles flex and move, the planes of his chest, the thin line of hair that trails down from his navel and disappears into his leggings. "I hear you've been busy recently. A treaty between Umidia VI and Osomez II, I believe?"

The corner of his mouth turns up, and he nods. "It seems I've been making myself useful here on Coruscant after all."

I can't think of a response to that. I suppose that answers my question of whether he's still bitter about missing an opportunity to work independently on the Outer Rim. "I'm glad to hear it," I tell him. Force, for someone who's known for diplomacy and negotiation, you'd think I'd be better able to hold a conversation with this man. "Have you--"

"With respect, Master Jinn, is this conversation going somewhere?" Aubris straightens his posture a bit, tugging his tunic into place and tugs the sash down from over his shoulder so he can belt his tunic into place. "Normally I'd be quite happy to remain here and keep speaking to you, but I have an appointment this evening."

"Another time, then?" I offer, not quite certain what it is that's making me do so. Maybe it's just the sense of rejection lately. First Mace sends me home, then T'nell can't work me into his schedule -- I'd like someone to say yes to an offer tonight.

"Of course. When?"

"Fourthday evening. There's a function at the Eolus Atrium. Come with me; we can practice our observation skills together." It must be whim. I can't imagine where else the urge to invite him to this function comes from.

He looks me over, as if he's trying to figure out where the trap is. When he turns up nothing, he nods slowly. "All right," he says. "Comm me with the details. I'll be glad to join you."

He heads away, and I walk into the salle, shaking my head at myself. I can only imagine what Obi-Wan's expression would be if he knew I'd made Aubris Feln an offer like that. At least it isn't a date. Just a pair of colleagues going to a diplomatic function. I'm sure Aubris will behave himself, which is more than I would have been able to say for T'nell. On the other hand, there's something to be said for sneaking off into a coat closet during boring diplomatic functions...

I start with the stretches that make up the first kata, warming myself up with them, still thinking about distractions during diplomatic functions. I remember one in particular with Mace, during which my master had to drag us out from behind a heavy velvet curtain. That was a thrilling moment, if only because I thought at first that Master Dooku was going to take our heads off. And then there have been times I've looked across a room and seen Obi-Wan looking at me, and known that as soon as we got home, he'd be on me, tackling me to the ground and slinking his way up my body with almost feline grace.

And Aubris -- well, we have fucked, but surely we're not on good enough terms for me to have to worry about getting myself in trouble with him. I don't need to worry about searching out dark corners or being certain to rush because we could be caught at any moment. Don't need to worry about the way his leggings would look around his knees and how he'd bite his lip against moaning while I take him against a wall--

--Force. I don't think this exercise is helping me in the least. I should have stayed at home and read the granary notes from AgriCorps.

I arrive at Aubris's quarters with half an hour to go before we need to be at the gathering. I press his door chime, and wait for him to answer. I've been trying not to second-guess my invitation since making it. Am I too inclined to give second chances? Suppose I'm wrong about him?

The doors slide open almost immediately, and Aubris smiles at me. "Qui-Gon," he says. "I'm ready if you are."

There's nothing overtly different about his appearance -- Jedi robes are, by custom, shades of brown and cream, and his are no different. But he looks neater than I'm accustomed to seeing him. He's presenting himself as carefully as possible. He is going to be meeting a number of new people; he'll make new contacts, and I can't blame him for wanting to make a good first impression.

What I hadn't expected was that the impression would work on me. He looks good, and I can remember exactly what it felt like to pound into him, to let out all the frustration I was feeling the night I was running away from all the complications in my life -- finding out about Obi-Wan and Bail, trying to figure out what Xan wanted from me. I can already picture what he'd look like with his hair tousled, shaken out of that neat style, and how he'd have to run his fingers through it and hope he could get himself back into order.

"I'm ready," I tell him. Though I'm not. Should I even be going to a gathering if the only thing on my mind is whether or not there'll be a quiet corner, whether or not Aubris and I would be able to get away?

I turn around and lead the way to the upper platforms, where we take a taxi to the Eolus Atrium. It's a long ride, and Aubris and I exchange a bit of small talk as we go. There are some masters and padawans being sent on assignment, and a few classes are being rescheduled to accommodate the changes. Aubris is taking over Master Yelat's Force-suggestion techniques class. I cover for my impulse to frown, and let him talk about his lesson plans and ethics concerns.

Do I really have reason not to trust him? My opinion of him is largely colored by Obi-Wan's, and Obi-Wan is hardly an unbiased observer. Aubris has been a full knight for nearly five years now; his reputation was unblemished until Obi-Wan brought Bail Organa's accusations to the notice of the Council. And just how much faith should I store in the young senator? I've sensed more ambition in him than in any of the junior senators I've met in this year's session put together. What motivation did he have to make a confession such as that to Obi-Wan, and what reasons did he have for being unwilling to see the ethics investigation through? Aubris was willing to cooperate completely; Bail refused to even give a statement.

All these things weigh heavily on my thoughts as we make our way into the Atrium and begin greeting people. We encounter a number of senators and aides we know, as well as a few we don't, and it's obvious that Aubris and I work well together. We know a number of similar stories, things we can share with the politicians that make them laugh or get them nodding in thought. It's easy enough batting topics back and forth with him, and we end up on opposite sides of a few friendly debates. We give small signals with body language when it's time to move from one group of aides to the next; somehow it's easy picking up on his cues, and he seems well able to pick up on mine. I'm enjoying this, and he looks as though he is, as well. He's making new contacts, making small talk, and after we've circulated around the Atrium once, we agree to separate for the next few hours.

It's a good plan. It should give him time to make new acquaintances, and it'll give me a chance to find Master Dooku. I've been looking around the Atrium for him all evening, of course, despite the attempts by one being after another to draw me into political conversations. I can feel his presence here -- I have no doubt he's nearby. It's only a matter of finding him. Easier said than done; Dooku always knew precisely when he wanted to make an appearance, and it was never easy to lay eyes on him before he wanted to be found.

On my way through the crowd, I have the misfortune to run headlong into a particularly nasty conversation going on between representatives from the Pherais cluster and the junior senator from the Hashvarn moons -- all being couched in diplomatic words and tones, of course -- regarding the trade routes around a certain asteroid belt.

"...but you don't seem to understand that historically, the Pherais cluster has controlled trade there--"

"--yes, yes, I realize that. But history is one thing, and practicality another. The moons of Harshvarn are actually closer to that trade route than the Pherais cluster, and we're more significantly impacted by the space traffic."

"How are you impacted by space traffic when the trade route is far enough away that--"

"--it's an environmental issue, and the matter of trader ships docking at our space stations is--"

"Wait, wait. Here's a Jedi--" I almost groan when I hear that. "He's impartial. Let's get his opinion."

"Oh, excellent idea. Master Jedi, sir. What do you think of the disputed trade routes around the Nervalla asteroid belt?"

I shake my head at them. "As a Jedi, I am bound by the needs of the Council and the Republic. My personal opinions are better left in my quarters at the Temple; I have no wish to speak, however inadvertently, for the Jedi as a whole."

"This is one of the problems with the Jedi, in my opinion."

I would know that voice anywhere. I freeze in place as soon as I hear it.

"The Jedi do not lose their right to their own individual thoughts and morals simply by virtue of being Jedi." And my once-master comes into my view at last, smiling very slightly, as if he's been looking for an opportunity to greet me all evening and is quite pleased with the one he's taken. "Or do you not agree, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn?"

"One does not need to seek permission from the Council to have an opinion," I grant him. "But when the words we speak are likely to be taken as a reflection of the Jedi, it benefits us to consider them before we speak."

Dooku nods to me, and that smile is still on his face. "That is certainly worth considering, Jedi or no." His gaze turns from the Pherais to the Hashvarn and then back to me. "It's good to see you again, Qui-Gon. How have you been?"

When the conversation shifts to the personal, we lose our audience. The senators and representatives move on to find others who are interested in their political rhetoric, and Dooku guides me out to a vacant balcony, where we're able to have a few private words with one another.

"If I had known you were back on Coruscant, I would have come to see you earlier," I tell him. "You've been missed."

Dooku shakes his head, chuckling a bit. "I don't think so. You're still shying away from giving your opinion on matters, and the Council still has its grip on the Jedi -- even fiercely independent ones such as yourself. Perhaps some have missed me, but my ideas? I suspect not."

I go quiet. There's no good response to that. Master Dooku always had a way of backing me into a corner.

"Still," he goes on, "I do believe I'm managing to do some good, even apart from the Jedi Order. Serrano has been much more prosperous these last few years."

"I'm glad to hear it," I tell him. "I remember you often spoke of your homeworld. Your hopes and fears for your people. I'm certain they appreciate your taking a more prominent role in their affairs."

"And I appreciate them," Dooku replies. "I appreciate being able to speak my thoughts without being overly concerned about my position or fearing that the sky itself will fall if I voice something at odds with the ruling council of my homeworld." He glances at me with a bit of amusement in his eyes. "Your transmissions were not always so coy, Qui-Gon. There have been times I received your letters and half expected to hear something drastic on the holonews -- 'several Jedi Masters left the Coruscant Temple today in outrage over the Council's stance on the conflict on Rapheash VII, led by firebrand Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn'..."

I shake my head, but he's not far off. If ever there's been a time I've thought about leaving, the conflict on Rapheash VII would have done it. The Senate asked the Council to send in a team of negoatiators, and only after we arrived on Rapheash VII did we discover the leaders of the northern hemisphere -- those who still had the senate's favor -- expected us to lead them into war. While this was not an unusual occurrence, and many planets have tried to convince the Jedi to help fight their wars for them, this was different. The senate approved of the action, and the Council did nothing to countermand their orders. It was only after a great deal of argument from myself and Master Berek Sur that we agreed to take no part in Rapheash VII's civil war, and all five of us were subject to reprimands when we returned to Coruscant.

Still, that was some time ago. "The Council does what it feels is right," I tell my former master. "There are times when it is misguided."

"It would be difficult for the Council not to become misguided when it's become little more than the lapdog of the Senate--"

"Enough," I interrupt. "Master -- enough. We've had this argument before."

Dooku lapses into silence for some time, and then nods. "You're right, of course. I did not invite you here tonight in order to practice my powers of persuasion." He smiles. "I have missed you. It's good to be on Coruscant again, if for no other reason than to lay eyes on my former padawan."

He reaches forward, and we clasp hands. His skin is warm and smooth against mine, and I'm reminded of all the times I've felt his hands on me. I pull away, but only with reluctance. Regardless of whether I agree with his views on the Council and the Senate or not -- and more often than not these days, I do -- he's still my former master, and my friend. It is good to see him again.

"I have a number of other guests I should greet," he murmurs. "If I leave you to your own devices, can you avoid getting into any more political disputes?" His eyes sparkle.

"I shall do my best, as always."

"That is not as reassuring as I'd like," Dooku harrumphs, and he heads back inside.

I shiver a bit after he's gone. The cold is more penetrating than I'd thought, and going inside seems like a good idea. I head indoors, wondering if I might be able to find T'nell before I catch up with Aubris.

T'nell is hardly a difficult man to spot in a crowd. Though he's not quite so tall as I am, he's close, and at a gathering such as this one, his height combined with the telltale padawan haircut gives him away. I'm glad to see he's laughing; I walk up to him, smiling myself--

--and my smile fades a bit as I recognize his date. Bail Organa. T'nell's "shy" date. It seems T'nell's the shy one of the pair. And that's saying something, given that T'nell is one of the least shy beings I know. Senator Organa has the attention of a group of senators and aides, and is soaking it up comfortably.

"He's well-liked," Aubris murmurs. Force -- where did he come from? I should have been more aware of my surroundings; I should have noticed him walking up to stand beside me. "I'm sure he'll have a great career in the senate."

"You're not bothered being at a gathering with Senator Organa?" I ask. Aubris shrugs. "Have you spoken to him?"

"I've acknowledged his presence, and he's done the same for me. But no, we haven't spoken. His friend seems determined to protect him from me." Aubris regards T'nell with a faint air of amusement. "But then, Padawan T'nell has been very protective of Senator Organa's time. Give him a few more minutes and he'll get Organa away from the crowd he's drawn now--" As Aubris narrates, T'nell begins to draw Bail into conversation. Bail's attention moves from his crowd to T'nell, and the crowd begins to dissipate. "And if we watch for a few more minutes, Bail will attract more followers."

We wait in silence, and Aubris's prediction comes true. "You have quite the gift for foresight," I tease. "Or is that observation?"

"Observation, plain and simple, Qui-Gon," Aubris sniffs, shaking his head. "Divination is not one of my strong suits."

"Nor mine," I admit. "It's odd; I never thought of T'nell as being this deft a socialite."

"He isn't," Aubris assures me. "It's Organa who's steering. He cues T'nell when he's spent enough time with one group, and then the two of them wait and draw the next group in. He spends just enough time with each group of senators and aides to make them feel as if he's paid attention to them, and then he moves on to the next. I suspect he told T'nell he'd cue him whenever he was feeling overwhelmed. I wonder if T'nell has any idea what Organa's real purpose here is."

Part of me would like to protest. This is, after all, my padawan's lover, and I ought to be feeling some small amount of loyalty. But Bail Organa is also a politician, and it only takes half an hour's observation to see that everything Aubris says about him is true.

Aubris has said a great many things about Bail Organa. What else has he been right about? I wonder how much manipulation Bail is capable of, and how long he's been at it. He's the son of the king of Alderaan; this position, junior senator, may be something he's been reaching for all his life. A career politician. And I've trusted anything he's said? Might that have been foolish of me?

"Are you all right?" Aubris asks.

"I'm fine," I tell him, but I don't want to keep looking at Bail Organa. I turn around and make my way back to the balcony, hoping the cool air will do my temper some good. What has my padawan fallen into? How far should any of us trust Bail Organa?

"Are you all right?" Aubris asks.

"I'm fine," I tell him, but I don't want to keep looking at Bail Organa. I turn around and make my way back to the balcony, hoping the cool air will do my temper some good. What has my padawan fallen into? How far should any of us trust Bail Organa?

I hear footsteps and the faint sound of material brushing against material; I extend my senses a little further, and I can smell Aubris's soap, the almost bitter tang of arousal surrounding him. I wait for him to reach me, and when he does, he puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. It's dark enough here; those lattices and hedges and the shadows between them look more inviting than ever. I glance from them to him, and he smiles at me, wandering into darkness.

I have a choice to make. I can go after him, and take whatever he's offering. I can go back inside, and continue to make pleasantries until enough time has passed for me to take my leave of the gathering. I can choose risk, or play things safe. I can do what I would have done at twenty, or I can do what Obi-Wan would do if he were here now.

I can feel someone else here on the balcony with us. My senses are still extended far enough to hear the particular pattern of his breathing and his heartbeat, both of which give his identity away.

Master Dooku, who always knew when I was off with a lover. Master Dooku, who in later years loved to watch.

I've half-turned to go back into the Atrium, and I stop mid-step. It's not too late to change my mind. It's not too late to follow Aubris into the shadows.

I come up behind Aubris, and he holds still, waiting for my approach. I take another few steps forward, pushing us further into shadow. I slide his hands to one of the lattices, and he twists his fingers into the ivy. I make certain my former master has a clear view of what we're doing, and I feel the resulting satisfaction radiating from him on being able to see it.

I push Aubris's leggings down around his thighs and run one hand up and over the curve of his ass. He arches back into my touch, and I pull away, lowering my own leggings and finding a barrier in one of my pockets. I slick it on over my cock and then turn back to Aubris. He hasn't moved; his hands are tight on the lattice, and his head is bowed. He's receptive to everything, submissive under my hands.

I wonder what he was like with Bail Organa.

I part his buttocks with my thumbs and slide into him, watching as he throws his neck back and stifles a groan. This is not like me, not since I became a master, this running off to a deserted corner and finding someone to fuck. It's the sort of thing I would have done as a padawan, perhaps even as a knight, but I haven't done it in years. But I'm in control here. I'm the one who's dictating the action, and it was my decision to walk outside. Aubris is here because he saw I wanted something, fair enough, but all he's done is offer me what I wanted. It was my decision to take it. I can't imagine things were different on Alderaan.

I press in harder, curling my fingers around his hips, pulling him back against me. Aubris hasn't made any sound -- not as if he's expecting to be caught, but as if he doesn't want to interrupt me. He knows my thoughts are not on him, not on the present moment, and he's giving me room to work things out while I fuck him. Polite boy.

My thoughts are spinning. Aubris and Bail on Alderaan. My former master, back on Coruscant. T'nell, being drawn into Bail's web. My thrusts get harder as I remember T'nell at Bail's side, following cues, helping Bail work his way through the crowd. T'nell should know better than to trust politicians. What has Bail been doing with T'nell since Obi-Wan's been gone? Does Obi-Wan know how close they've gotten? Would he care?

One of Aubris's hands comes off the lattice and threads its way under his clothes to grasp the base of his cock. "Close?" I murmur. He nods. I can see the way his knuckles have gone white around the lattice. I put a hand over his and press down hard. "Holding back?" Another nod, and I thrust in so hard he nearly loses his balance, has to put both hands out in front of him again to hold steady. I wrap one arm around his waist, and my other hand goes to his mouth, cutting off any sounds he might want to make. He cries out, and the sound is muffled completely by my skin -- I can only feel its vibration and the warm explosion of his breath.

I pull away, and the two of us put our clothing in order. When he's dressed, Aubris's eyes search out the darkness of the balcony, and I freeze. He must have known Dooku was here; Dooku's presence in the Force is sharp and cold, like an unexpected sea mist coming up at dawn.

But Aubris only smiles, and calls out, "Enjoy that, did you?"

I hear Dooku's chuckle, and he steps out of darkness and into shadow. "Very much. It's good to see you, Aubris."

He reaches forward and draws Dooku into a warm embrace. "It's good to see you as well. I had no idea we had so many friends in common."

It's only with great difficulty that I hide my shock. This is not a greeting between men who only met tonight; this is a greeting between men who have been friends for some time. Friends? My former master and Aubris Feln? How did this happen?

"The galaxy is smaller than one thinks," Dooku says. He puts both hands on Aubris's shoulders. "Always good to see my proteges becoming acquainted. I take it you two have known each other for some time?" he asks, though I can't tell whether the question is directed at me or at Aubris.

"Quite some time, yes," Aubris answers. "He was master to one of my agemates when I was still a padawan. Though we've only become better acquainted--" and he leers at me over his shoulder. "--over the past few months."

"I had no idea you knew my former master," I tell Aubris. "When did you two meet?"

"A while back, on Gallista Seven," Aubris tells me. "But we've been corresponding ever since."

"And my name was quite a surprise to our young friend when he finally learned it," Dooku says. "I was reluctant to give up my anonymity. It's been a long time since someone of the Order didn't recognize me on sight, nor brand me a troublemaker immediately."

"You're hardly a troublemaker," I protest. Both Dooku and Aubris grin at me for that, and I wonder just how well Aubris knows Dooku. Does Aubris know why Dooku left the Order? Does he know what Dooku thinks of the Senate?

He must. Dooku's not one to hide his political opinions, and the clear affection he has for Aubris implies that he's taken Aubris into his confidence. It strikes me as odd, because Dooku is not one to give affection lightly. And when he left the Order, I thought he had little use for the Jedi -- trained minions, he called them once, and was careful to tell me that I was an exception. That he'd helped me become the sort of Jedi who would not simply bow to the Senate or the Council if my instincts told me there was a better path. I know nothing of Aubris that suggests he is an exception -- that he'd do something against the Council's wishes, instincts or no. What don't I know about this man?

"The Council disagrees with you, Qui-Gon," Dooku says. "There's little room in the Order for Jedi who are unwilling to follow the will of the Senate. Sooner or later, more of our friends will recognize that."

"The way you have?" I ask Aubris. "Your request to work independently on the Outer Rim -- is that because you've grown tired of the way the Senate micromanages the Jedi on planets within its reach?"

Aubris's eyes flick to Dooku for a fraction of an instant; had I not been looking for it, I doubt I would have seen it at all. "In part, yes," he admits. "Do you ever wonder what good you could do without the Senate watching your every move? I've begun to wonder that in recent years. And it is not solely about Fredreic's influence," he insists, though this time his eyes move to Dooku and linger there. "Surely you of all people have felt limited by the Council's ties to the Senate."

I shake my head. This is not a conversation I was prepared to have -- but if I know Dooku, it's one he's been planning for weeks if not months. "It's possible," I admit, "but it would not be wise for me to make any statements without giving your points some more thought." Especially knowing how well Dooku's memory works, and how easily he can twist one's own words into the argument that brings you to his side in a conflict.

"This is not a conflict, Qui-Gon," Dooku tells me, and I lift an eyebrow. Those words were dangerously close to my thoughts. I'll have to remember to shield better. "But it might do you well to think about the Council and its loyalties. Think about who you trust."

I've been thinking about that all night. I don't trust Bail Organa, and between his too-smooth manipulations of T'nell -- and probably Obi-Wan -- and his clear comfort in the political arena, I expect to have to keep an eye on him. He looks, all over, like a man who's planning something.

I have no reason not to trust Aubris Feln. The few times he's been angry or sarcastic, he's been provoked. He cooperated with the ethics committee. He's willing to offer me companionship when I most need it. And Dooku trusts him. Which could mean a great deal, or very little, depending on how much I decide to trust Dooku.

I extend a hand to him, and he grasps mine and squeezes. "I shall, as always, take your advice to heart, Master."

"And you will, as always, do what you think best." Dooku smiles at me. "It's all I've ever asked of you, Qui-Gon."

"You know me too well," I grin at him. "It's been good seeing you again."

"I'll be on Coruscant for the rest of the year, if not longer. We should make a point of seeing each other more."

"That much," I tell him, "you can count on." It's said one should keep those he trusts close and those he does not trust closer. Whichever Dooku turns out to be, I expect to see a great deal more of him while he's on-planet.

-FIN-