by Res (resqdog51@hotmail.com) with help from MrsHamill
(thamill@mgfairfax.rr.com)
Archive: By Master & Apprentice, my site, WWOMB and
SithChicks
Pairing: O/Other, Q/Other, O/Q
Category: Alternate Universe
Rating: NC-17 for the series; this episode rated PG. Sorry
gang...no sex. I tried, but the guys just weren't into
performing for the public this time around!! (Res)
Disclaimer: Neither of us is George Lucas, to the best of our
knowledge. However, if he wants to give us the boys when he's
done playing with them...
Warning: Spoiler warning for TPM but we've all seen it by now,
right? Summary: Still bouncing about on his quest to be with
his beloved Master, Obi gets in the way at the wrong
time!
Notes: From Res: I had to do it. I'm sorry...but after that
many 'if's, these things just HAD to happen! Well...Ok, the hot
pink hat with all the silver glitter was my fault, but the rest
of it? I Am Not Responsible! Well...maybe I am. But Terri was
the one who set them loose! THANK YOU, Terri, for letting me
play in your sandbox...it was awesome fun! I hope everyone else
enjoys reading this story as much as I did writing it.
Especially since it is the first story since I was in sixth
grade that I actually wrote out long hand...(if you ever get
called for Jury Duty, take lots of paper! It's great incentive
to write!)
From terri: This was all Res' fault. Thanks, Res!
After so many 'if's where his entrance point was at least
un-infringed upon and often completely unseen, Obi-Wan was
unprepared for the reality of a large wooden stave swinging
toward his face as soon as he appeared. Only
rigourously-trained, Force-enhanced reflexes, and the fact that
his lightsaber was already lit and in almost the right
position, got his 'saber up in time to block the blow. He had
the barest fraction of an instant to gape at the equally
shocked Mon Calamarian boy wielding the wooden weapon before
something hard caught him heavily along one temple from behind.
Obi-Wan staggered dizzily sideways, fireworks exploding across
his vision as he attempted to right himself before bouncing off
an alabaster statue and collapsing bodily into a retaining
wall.
Shocked voices shrilled through the ringing of his ears,
chasing him down a spiraling vertigo of dark spots.
"Oh Force, Bant! Where did he come from? Did I kill him?
Someone call the Healers!"
"Bloody Sith-hells! It's Obi-Wan! Someone call his master!"
"I thought...Council...that kid...Naboo?"
"Transport...tonight! Where's...Jinn...Sith...!"
The voices broke and faded as the ground vanished from under
him and...everything...came...
To...
A.
Stop.
And then there was Black.
The tall Jedi stood in the shadows of the balcony and stared,
unseeing, out over the nightscape of Coruscant. The sun had
only just vanished over the jagged horizon, leaving the sky
painted in deep shades of ochre and amber. He'd always loved
this view; from this height, the air traffic patterns were as
soothingly hypnotic as the flow of water down a pebbled bed.
Slowly, his mind relaxed enough to bring the painful thoughts
to the front. He'd managed to hurt his Padawan. Again.
// I didn't mean to...// The thought drifted off, then was
dismissed as the weak denial it was. Mean to or not, he'd done
it. Obi-Wan had instantly shut down the bond between them, even
as he'd stepped forward to support his Master. But Qui-Gon felt
the first cold stab of shock, and the hot clench of betrayal
his apprentice had felt as he, Qui-Gon, placed his hands on the
child's shoulders and claimed him.
// I didn't mean it like that. // He sighed heavily. Once
again, his impulsive and contrary ways had caused trouble. The
Force had been so insistent, though, so impatient -- he still
should have thought about it first --
Abruptly, he yanked his thoughts out of their self-defeating
spiral. Done was done. Nowhere to go but forward. He needed to
be getting ready for the return to Naboo. The Queen's cruiser
was already being prepared; they would leave as soon as the
arrangements had been completed. Time enough to deal with the
child when they got back.
Qui-Gon drifted closer to the railing of the balcony, his face
pensive. Suddenly, he turned and re-entered the Temple. He
needed to speak to Obi-Wan...needed to find some way to
apologize...
The chirrup of his comlink interrupted the thought. "Jinn," he
answered.
"Master Jinn, you are needed in the infirmary. Padawan Kenobi
has been --"
"I'll be right there." He snapped it out, cutting the other
off. The air in his lungs turned to syrup and his heart seemed
to flinch as he turned the link off. Moving as rapidly as
possible, and far more so than was strictly decorous, he made
his way to the Healers.
Behind him another figure, shorter, and covered in a lighter
version of the Jedi Master's own robe, approached the balcony
just in time to see the master leaving. Reaching out across
their training bond, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi touched his
Master's mind just enough to get a taste of his urgency, then
retreated before his Master even knew he was there. Something
important was happening. He could talk to his Master later. He
would talk to his Master later...
A flutter of robes was the only warning. The Rodian Healer
Apprentice squealed in shock as she looked up into the very
intense face of one of the Jedi order's most legendary masters.
The wildly flying hair just made the predatory resemblance
stronger. "Master Jinn!"
Completely unaware of the mussed state of his hair, Qui-Gon
straightened his robes and inclined his head serenely. It was
only as he tried to tuck his hands into his robe cuffs that he
realized he was still holding the comlink. Putting it away, he
asked the apprentice, "Where is Master Tegul? I was informed my
Padawan had been admitted?"
"M-M-Master Tegul?" The little Rodian stuttered for a moment
under the darkening blue gaze, then regained her center with a
snap. "Yes, Master Tegul. I'll get him for you, Master Jinn. If
you will wait here?" She bowed to him, and retreated from the
room with scurrying haste.
Qui-Gon frowned slightly, then shrugged to himself, turning
away from the tempting doorway. He closed his eyes and
concentrated on convincing his lungs that they were functional
and that the air really was meant to be flowing smoothly in and
out of them, not jumping around like a barbed ball. He spared a
thought to remind his heart to beat in a regular rhythm. Surely
if something had happened to his apprentice, he would have felt
it. Surely he would have. He started to reach out across the
training bond --
He had barely a breath before he heard Master Tegul enter the
waiting room behind him, but it was enough to restore his calm
and close his shields, and he turned a serene face to greet the
Master Healer. The other was a human, perhaps one of the few
humans in the order who was taller than Qui-Gon himself. The
Master Healer held his long form awkwardly, as if more used to
hunching over a table or delicate instrument, and had a
perpetual squint to his eyes, as if the room was too bright for
him.
Master Tegul eyed the waiting Jedi for a moment, then snorted.
"Qui-Gon, you should remember to straighten your hair before
you try to look like you've got everything under control. You
look like you've just sprinted the Habradian half-mile."
Qui-Gon blinked, then ran a hand over his head and put his hair
back in order. Oops. He'd have to remember that. "My Padawan?"
he asked.
"Padawan Kenobi is currently being Force-healed by Master
Gareld. No --," the Master Healer held up a hand to restrain
the other -- "he'll be fine. Really." Qui-Gon looked deep into
the other's eyes to search for any duplicity, then relaxed as
he realized the man was sincere. Tegul nodded and gestured to a
padded bench against the wall. They both sat.
"Tell me what happened?" Qui-Gon requested.
"Padawan Kenobi got between a couple of others who were
practicing stave fighting in the statuary garden. One of them
hit him in the temple. He had a critically fractured skull and
a concussion. We managed to keep the damage to a minimum until
we got him into Healing, which means that there is very little
to be fixed, beyond the hairline fractures and the initial
bruising. We were fortunate; it could have been a LOT worse. He
should be fine, but he's going to be very confused and
disoriented when he wakes."
Qui-Gon nodded.
"We're going to pull him out of the Healing trance soon...we'd
like for you to be there. He may wake briefly, but then he will
most likely need to sleep again until his brain unscrambles
itself." Master Tegul grimaced wryly. "From what I heard, it
must have felt like a pong ball bouncing around inside his
skull."
"We were to leave -- " Qui-Gon began. Tegul waved a hand at
him, cutting him off.
"Yes, I know. Councilor Piell was by the gardens when it
happened and reported it to the Council. They've sent down
instructions for you; you are to continue with the mission
without Padawan Kenobi. Apparently, you are the only witness to
a Sith?" The Healer looked slightly agog. "I can't believe the
Sith have returned."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Neither can any one else, but
that...thing...," he shuddered, "it could have been nothing
else."
"Amazing." Tegul seemed about to say something more when the
Rodian Apprentice returned.
"Master, Master Gareld says it is time to bring Padawan Kenobi
up from the Healing trance; he responded well to the
Force-healing." She bowed slightly and stepped aside as the two
Masters stepped through the doorway behind her.
Master Tegul led the way to the bedside, pausing to confer
quietly with the other Healer in the room. Qui-Gon eased his
way up to the bed and looked down at the still, quiet form
almost hidden in the blankets. Obi-Wan looked incredibly pale
and drawn...worn, even. His hair was damp, and was brushed back
from his face; he appeared to be lying on his braid, his face
turned to the right and more than half buried in the deep
pillow. Dark bruising marked where the stave had made harsh
contact with his head, though Qui-Gon could see the contusion
fading with almost visible speed, turning the side of Obi-Wan's
head a disturbing range of sickly colors. Even without trying,
the Jedi Master could feel the unsettled state of the
unconscious man's mind. Obi-Wan's shields were fluctuating
wildly, alternately dropping and slamming closed as his mind
struggled to pull itself out of the enforced Healing trance.
Qui-Gon's mind flinched from the violently erratic
oscillations.
"He's fighting us," Healer Gareld said, unnecessarily. The
Healer was Mon Calamarian, her salmon-pink skin mottled with a
unique maroon pattern, and reflecting wetly in the overhead
lights. Silver eyes blinked sorrowfully at Qui-Gon. "He's
disoriented and frightened, refusing to co-operate with us. We
hope that letting him wake up will help, and that you, as his
Master, can calm him enough to let us finish the Healing."
Qui-Gon nodded and gingerly settled himself on the edge of the
bed, gently picking up one limp, white hand. It was cool in his
hand, despite the warmth of the room. He squeezed it gently and
centered himself, then nodded to the Healers that he was ready.
As Healer Gareld began to release Obi-Wan's mind from the
trance, Qui-Gon had to strengthen his shields against the
confusion and vertigo radiating from the young man, lest he
himself be pulled into the overwhelming disorientation.
Gradually, Obi-Wan regained consciousness. His eyes fluttered
open, then clenched shut tightly as he moaned through gritted
teeth. The moan quickly turned into a choking retch as the
young man violently threw himself sideways to the edge of the
bed. Qui-Gon was ready with the pail as Obi-Wan tried to
introduce his stomach to the daylight, the Jedi Master's hand
kneading soothingly against the back of the younger man's neck,
then offering a damp cloth to wipe his mouth.
Obi-Wan moaned again, hanging over the side of the bed as he
struggled against vertigo, his eyes tightly closed. Gently,
Qui-Gon lifted him back to the pillows and pressed him down
into them. "Easy, now, Padawan. You've had a quite a knock."
Obi-Wan flinched and froze, eyes still closed, then blinked
rapidly, trying to see. "...M-Master?" he asked, hesitantly,
his voice thick. "Master?"
"Yes, Padawan. Be easy now, you need to rest. The Healers will
take care of you while I am gone." Qui-Gon rested a hand gently
on the younger man's forehead, intending to soothe.
"Gone...?" Obi-Wan's voice was weak, distracted, as he tried to
bring the room into focus. His head must have been aching
ferociously, and from the way his eyes moved, it was evident
that everything was blurry and probably spinning.
"Yes. To Naboo. Remember? The Queen is returning. I must go and
protect her."
"Naboo...?" Suddenly, Obi-Wan gasped and struggled to sit up in
the bed. "NO!" He grabbed Qui-Gon's hand hard enough to turn
the knuckles of both hands white. "NO!" He swayed, but refused
to let go, face white and desperate. "You mustn't go!"
"Obi --" Qui-Gon tried, gently, to free his hand.
"NO! Promise me you won't go! Please, Master, you'll die!"
Despair and sheer emotional agony poured off the younger man in
waves so thick Qui-Gon could almost taste it. Alarmed, the
Healers moved in to try to free the Jedi Master, voices chiming
in unison as they tried to put their distraught patient back to
sleep. Force suggestions piled into Obi-Wan's dazed mind, and
still he fought. "You mustn't fight him, Master! Please, don't
leave me behind! He'll kill you! Please, Master...," he sobbed,
bringing Qui-Gon's hand to his face and pressing it to his
cheek, his forehead, his lips, "Please, Master, don't die...not
again. Please....He'll kill you if you fight him...please...."
Aghast, Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan fought off yet another round
of sleep suggestions from the two Healers, still begging not to
be left behind. 'Again'? What did he mean by 'again'? "Padawan
-- Obi -- Obi! Listen to me!"
Abruptly, Obi-Wan crumpled to the side of the bed, retching
again as Qui-Gon tenderly held his head. Absurdly, as he
brushed back his Padawan's tawny hair, the big man thought
something was different about it. Finally, Obi-Wan stilled and
allowed himself to be placed back on the pillow. He still clung
desperately to his Master's hand, his whole body shuddering
with the effort of remaining conscious against the demands of
his body and the combined Force suggestions of the two Healers.
Despair and a feeling of loss so deep as to drown the bearer
filled the room, its source clearly obvious.
"Please...please...please...," whispered Obi-Wan, over and
over, his face terrifyingly pale. "I love you, Master. Please
don't leave me. I love you. Please don't fight him alone.
Please..."
Shaken by the depth of feeling shown by his apprentice, Qui-Gon
gently gathered the distraught man into his arms, holding him
close. "I promise, my Obi. I promise I won't fight him alone. I
have to go, you know I have to go, but I PROMISE I won't
fight him alone." Qui-Gon had no idea who 'He' was, but if it
was so important to his Obi-Wan, he would promise anything.
"Hush, now, hush." Gently, ever-so-gently, he rocked his
sobbing apprentice, delicately kissing his head, soothing him
into sleep. "I promise."
Comforted by the strong embrace, and soothed by the familiar
and beloved voice making the promise he so desperately needed,
Obi-Wan allowed himself to be convinced. His mind let go so
suddenly Qui-Gon almost dropped him, even braced for the
release as he was.
Tenderly, the Jedi Master guided the boneless man's head back
onto the pillow, then looked at the two Healers. Human and Mon
Calamarian leaned over their patient, then Master Tegul stood
back with a sigh, leaving his colleague to continue her
assessment and healing. "He sleeps."
Qui-Gon nodded understanding, still gently caressing the pale
forehead as Obi-Wan's words echoed in his mind. '...you'll
die....don't die, not again...I love you, Master...don't leave
me...he'll kill you...I love you, Master....' Obi-Wan looked so
young, lying, broken, in the bed. 'I love you, Master....'
Abruptly, Qui-Gon pulled back to stare at the Master Healer.
"What was that?"
Tegul stared back at him, bafflement in his soulful brown eyes.
"I have no idea. He showed no signs of having Force visions,
and...it's possible he's lost some time...has anything like
this happened before? A situation where you had to leave him
behind?"
"Nothing like this, no...," Qui-Gon looked thoughtful. "Will he
be alright?"
Gareld answered him, her voice soft as she rested a hand on
Obi-Wan's forehead. "Disorientation is normal. His mind is
already beginning to settle."
Tegul nodded and thought for a moment. "I suggest we not worry
about it until he wakes naturally and we can ask him. It could
be as simple as a flashback to a nightmare. His brain took a
good shaking -- Xhauru was definitely not holding back. There's
no telling what got shaken loose in Padawan Kenobi's mind. I
think we would be best served by giving him a chance to settle
things back where they belong."
Gareld indicated her agreement, and began to herd the other two
out of the room. "He needs rest. The poor boy is worn down to a
nub! If I didn't know you so well, Master Jinn, I'd say he'd
been abused recently. As it is, I strongly suggest you have a
talk with him at the next available time, about the Care and
Keeping of Self. He keeps going this way and he's going to need
more than a simple session of Force-healing."
Qui-Gon frowned, but let the comment pass. Silently, he rebuked
himself for not noticing how rundown his Padawan had become.
"What were Xhauru and Bant doing, fighting with staves in the
statuary garden?" he asked instead, as Gareld left them to tend
to her other patients.
Tegul snorted. "They decided they needed an unusual place to
practice a new kata. The statuary garden is, as they put it,
'so boring no one ever goes there, and has lots of really cool
obstacles.'"
Sighing, Qui-Gon just shook his head and walked thoughtfully
towards the shuttle pad that would take him to the Queen's
transport. Already, he missed the brown-robed shadow that
normally followed him.
Getting back aboard the Nubian cruiser was the normal comedy
of errors, made worse by the ridiculous Gungan and by Anakin's
questions. Captain Panaka greeted him as he disembarked the
shuttle, giving him a cryptic message about his Padawan being
aboard, and then looked confused when Qui-Gon told him Obi-Wan
wouldn't be accompanying them back to Naboo. But before they
could speak further, Captain Panaka was called away.
Queen Amidala had already demonstrated a liking for Anakin, and
offered him a place to sleep near the handmaidens that were
never far from her. By the time Qui-Gon got him settled, and
had made certain Binks was out of the way and happily eating
before turning his weary steps towards his own cabin, the ship
had been in flight for most of an hour, easing its way out of
the busy space around Coruscant. Reluctantly, Qui-Gon
approached the cabin he had shared with Obi-Wan, and that now
would be empty.
As he came through the door, he was shrugging off his robe,
intending to rest and to meditate, to purge into the Force the
panic he still felt over seeing Obi-Wan's pale face unconscious
on the Healer's bed. "Let me take that for you, Master," his
Padawan's quiet voice said from behind him, and the robe was
lifted off his arms.
"Tha -- OBI-WAN?" Whirling, Qui-Gon staggered back, nearly
falling over the small desk by the door. "Wh -- how-- why are
you HERE? You should be back in the infirmary!"
Surprised by his Master's reaction, Obi-Wan blinked and
recoiled. "What? Why? What's wrong, Master?"
Master and Padawan stared at each other, speechless for a
moment. Qui-Gon reached his hand out to touch the left side of
Obi-Wan's head, where he had seen a huge bruise. It was clear
and unblemished.
"I -- I don't understand...," he said finally, his heart
hammering. "Are you...are you all right?"
Dropping his gaze, Obi-Wan said, "I'm fine, Master. I'm sorry
I've been avoiding you, shielding you out...it's just...I'm
worried. About the boy. He's dangerous, Master, and --"
"Forget the sodding boy, Padawan," Qui-Gon nearly shouted. "I
don't give a womprat's... Are you all right? I left you under a
Healing trance, how did you end up here?"
"Huh?" was his Padawan's intelligent reply.
Frustrated beyond all hope of release to the Force, Qui-Gon
reached out both hands and grabbed his Padawan's head in a
gentle grip. Without warning, he flooded the young man's mind
with a probe that left them both gasping. Obi-Wan grabbed at
the arms that held him and staggered. "What was...what are you
doing?"
"You're not hurt," Qui-Gon whispered, shock plain on his face.
"There's no head trauma, no cranial damage."
"Of course not," Obi-Wan said shortly as he jerked away. He was
becoming both worried and slightly angry. "I'm fine. Why
do you keep SAYING that?"
Reaching blindly behind himself, Qui-Gon found and fell into
the small chair attached to the desk, his eyes never leaving
his Padawan's face. "I -- this -- you -- " He subsided gaping
at his Padawan while said Padawan frowned and stared at him. "I
left you at the Healers'," Qui-Gon finally managed to murmur.
"You had a severe concussion and were completely incoherent.
Bant and Xhauru were sparring in the statuary garden --" some
fragment of the Master's mind was actually amused by the
thoughtful grimace that piece of information provoke in his
Padawan -- "and somehow you got into the middle of it. Xhauru
had managed to wallop you a good one, right here." Gently,
Qui-Gon reached out and touched Obi-Wan's left temple again.
Shocked, the young man's hand rose to touch the same place, as
if confirming it was undamaged. "When I saw you in the
infirmary, you were vomiting, incoherent...you kept begging me
not to fight 'him' alone..."
Becoming more confused by the second, Obi-Wan asked, "Him --
who?"
"I don't know!" Qui-Gon said, confusion and frustration in his
voice. "You kept begging me...said I would die if I fought
'him' alone."
Obi-Wan's face grew stricken. "You would...die?" He gulped.
"Could it be a foreseeing?"
"Let's contact the Temple; I don't think we've entered
hyperspace," Qui-Gon said, pulling his comlink out and chiming
for Master Tegul. Shortly, the Healer's voice came through, and
Qui-Gon could hear his exasperation.
"Qui-Gon, I told you we'd contact you if the situation
changed."
"Tegul, the situation has already changed," Qui-Gon said,
grimacing. "Obi-Wan is standing right in front of me. He's
unhurt."
There was silence on the other end of the comlink for so long
Qui-Gon began to wonder if their ship had entered hyperspace.
"Qui-Gon, are you around anyone?" Tegul's voice sounded
carefully, patently neutral. "I'd like you to talk to someone
else."
Rolling his eyes, Qui-Gon said, "Tegul, I assure you, I'm not
delusional. Here. Obi-Wan, say something to Healer Tegul."
"Master Tegul? It's Obi-Wan Kenobi," the young man said
hesitantly. "Master Jinn said he saw me in the infirmary, but
I've been on board the Queen's ship for some time."
This time the silence was quite deafening. When Tegul finally
spoke again, the transmission was spotty, and the two Jedi
could tell the ship was preparing for hyperspace. "He's here.
...asleep. Concussion...I don't...will get...Y --" The comlink
went dead as the unmistakable sensation of the hyperdrive
kicked in.
Putting the device back on his belt, Qui-Gon said, "Well,
that's that. But I still don't understand how..." He swallowed,
looking down at his feet. "When I saw you in that bed, so badly
hurt, it nearly killed me. You were so
insistent...crying and begging me not to die again...and
I couldn't...."
"Not to die again?" Obi-Wan's face reflected the panic he felt
as he knelt in front of Qui-Gon. "Master...I...there's
something...."
"Wait, Padawan," Qui-Gon interrupted him gently, rising to his
feet. "I need to say something first. I don't know what's going
on here, but just in case...," he swallowed again, and his
hands came up once again to cradle Obi-Wan's face. "I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to hurt you like I did in the Council chamber. No
matter what's happening...if you're a ghost or if I am or
whatever...I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"
Surprised, shocked and touched, Obi-Wan met his Master's eyes.
"Forgive you?" He murmured. "Of course I can forgive you...all
you needed to do was ask...."
"Oh, I'm asking," Qui-Gon said, his voice sad. "It was poorly
done, Padawan. I'm so sorry. I never...I never meant to hurt
you and I know I did...."
Unconsciously, the men leaned closer together, and Obi-Wan's
hands came up to touch, then grip Qui-Gon's shoulders. "It's
all right. You couldn't hurt me...I -- I..."
"When you said you loved me in the infirmary, I...."
"I -- I said what?" Obi-Wan's face was both confused and loving
as he stared up into his Master's eyes. "Wait...what
did...Master?"
"You should be furious with me...."
"No, not any more...."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too. I was angry...."
"You had every right to be. Forgive me."
"Forgiven." Obi-Wan gazed up at his master for a moment, then
drew back. "Tell me again what 'I' said in the Healers?"
Qui-Gon frowned. "In the infirmary?"
"Yes...you said, I said...I loved you?" Obi-Wan wrapped his
arms around himself and moved to sit on the bunk.
"Yes," Qui-Gon nodded, and moved to kneel in front of his
paling Padawan. "You -- he kept repeating it...."
His Obi-Wan paled a little further, then laughed shakily. "And
here I thought I was keeping it such a good secret," his voice
shook, "I -- "
"No...hush." Qui-Gon cut him off, lightly placing his fingers
across his Obi's lips to silence him. "Now is not the time. We
have a war to fight." He looked sober. "We will talk about
this...later. For now...." Suddenly, Qui-Gon leaned forward and
replaced his fingers with his own lips, lightly kissing his
Padawan on the mouth, then brushing a soft caress of lips
across his eyes. Kissing his Obi-Wan one last time, on the
forehead, Qui-Gon stood and turned away. Glancing back, he met
the emotion-darkened eyes of his apprentice with a dark gaze of
his own. "For now, understand that this is a conversation I am
looking forward to, with great anticipation."
His Obi-Wan nodded, a soft smile playing across his lips before
he rose from the bed. Taking a deep breath, he said, "You need
rest. Sleep, Master; I will wake you when the Queen needs us."
They woke him an hour after Qui-Gon left, and asked him if he
knew his name. When he did, they sent him back to sleep, only
to wake him again an hour later, and again an hour after that.
The third time someone woke him up, he heard them say something
about his braid.
The fifth time, after he woke himself with a scream, someone
noticed the scars and they set someone to watching his dreams.
"In the emergency, the fact that his braid was missing went
completely unnoticed," Master Healer Tegul said quietly to the
Council's oldest member. The two of them sat at the bedside of
the strange young man who was...and yet, was not...Obi-Wan
Kenobi. "When Qui-Gon called me from the Queen of Naboo's
transport, I thought for a moment he was completely delusional.
He took Obi-Wan's injury very, very hard."
The little green head nodded sagely. "Close they are.
Surprised, was I, by Master Jinn's actions before the Council.
Hurt his Padawan was."
"Yes, I've heard what happened," Tegul said. "Qui-Gon is
nothing if not a maverick. But when I spoke to Obi-Wan over the
comlink.... That's when I started looking at our patient here."
Pulling a datapad out of his robe, he began accessing records.
"This young man, whoever he is, has been very badly damaged in
the near past. There is evidence of broken bones, rather
significant scarring, internal injuries...none of which show up
on Obi-Wan's records. And yet, a genetic scan shows him to be a
match of young Kenobi...down to seven significant digits."
"Clone could he be?"
Pursing his lips, Tegul thought. "No, there's no evidence of
it. You know that a clone would show damage in the 22nd
chromosome pair. There's none that I can find. I don't know how
to explain it."
Quietly, the two sat together contemplating the rise and fall
of the young man's chest. Finally, "In hyperspace are they. Two
more days. Know then we will. Wait here, I will, until this one
wakes. Answers then may we get."
"Yes, Master," Tegul said.
The ceiling was beige. For some reason that fact fascinated
Obi-Wan. He found himself contemplating it for some time before
he realized he was awake. He blinked a couple of times,
gradually becoming aware that he was warm, comfortable, and
without any of the myriad tiny aches he'd lived with for so
long that he only noticed them by their absence. Slowly, he
began to turn his head, to look around the room, only to freeze
again as he remembered that it should hurt. When no pain made
itself known he continued the motion, taking stock of his
surroundings.
It felt late. He wasn't sure what made him think that, though
he was pretty sure that the dim lights of the room, and the
utter stillness of it, influenced his perceptions. He was a
little unnerved to find his timesense so unreliable. The door
to the room was closed, and he was in the only bed he could
see.
Carefully, he turned to look in the corner nearest the head of
the bed and was somehow not surprised to meet the gaze of
familiar, wise green eyes. The expressive ears slowly flexed
upwards in an unconscious smile.
"Hmmm...awake are you?" The green head bent closer to the tawny
one on the bed. "How feel you? Head hurt?" A gentle caress of
Force probed tentatively at Obi-Wan's shields, requesting
entrance. Obi-Wan lowered his surface shields just enough to
allow the other to assess his condition.
"No, Master. I feel...good!" He sounded almost surprised by the
discovery.
The green ears pricked, then flattened at the surprise. "So
long has it been, since good you felt?"
Obi-Wan thought about it. "I think...yes. I didn't realize
how...tired I've been. How run down."
"Mmmmmm...," the green eyes scrutinized him carefully.
"Remember, do you, what has happened?"
"I...I don't...," Obi-Wan frowned, then lifted a hand to his
head. "I got hit in the head." He looked to the small figure
for confirmation.
"Yes. Many dreams had you. Many bad dreams." The voice did not
inquire, nor judge, simply stating the facts. "Much happened to
you has. Our Kenobi you are not. Seen such Darkness, he has
not. But, Kenobi you are...clone, you are not. Explain this,
can you?"
"I --" Obi-Wan struggled against the sudden flux of memories
the pronouncement brought -- dreams of Qui-Gon holding him,
dreams of Qui-Gon hurting him, soothing him, loving him, hating
him -- then twitched in startlement, reflexively throwing up a
hand in defense as the door to his room suddenly opened.
"Master Yhodi, Master Gareld says its time to -- " the Mon
Calamarian boy stopped halfway through the door. "Oh. You're
awake."
Obi blinked. 'Yhodi'? He tried not to gape at the ancient next
to him.
"Awake he is, Bant. Inform Master Gareld you will." Yhodi
shifted in her chair to eye the young man next to her, familiar
amusement twinkling in her eyes. "Surprised you are."
Obi-Wan stared at the door closing behind his male best
friend and swallowed hard, then managed a faint smile. "At
least you aren't wearing hot pink and glitter."
Yhodi's eyes widened in shock, and her ears stood straight up.
"...so...that's what I've been doing." Obi-Wan scooted further
back in the bed and adjusted the pillows he was leaning
against. He'd sat up sometime earlier in his story, and now
leaned forward in a stretch, reveling in muscles that no longer
ached, even a little. "I guess I'll stay here until I do
whatever it is I am here to do, then keep going."
"Mmmmmm," mused Yhodi, looking thoughtful. "Think I must on
this...." She fixed him with a piercing glare. "Stay you will
until finished with you I am." She softened, sensing his
budding alarm. "Rest you need. Time for your mind to finish
healing. Pause here you will? Only for a little while, I
promise." She shifted to peer into his face, sympathy and
understanding in her eyes. "Detain you unwillingly, we will
not."
Obi-Wan relaxed muscles he hadn't realized he'd tensed and
leaned back against the pillows again. "Thank you, Master."
Yhodi nodded and hopped off her chair. "Send Bant to you I
will. Feed you, he will, and other quarters find you for your
stay. Suggest I do," she paused in her progress towards the
door to eye him with consideration, "strongly, that stay you do
in your quarters. Confusion will you cause if roaming you are."
Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. Yhodi nodded firmly and
continued to the door, gimer stick thumping. Pulling the door
open, she began to step through it, then paused again, turning
to fix Obi with another glare. "Eat you will, while here you
are. Too skinny are you!" With that, she pulled the door firmly
closed behind her.
Obi grinned and settled back into the bed to rest. As
instructed.
"Anakin, stay there." Qui-Gon's voice brooked no opposition as
he and the others turned to make their way out of the fighter
bay. With a telling pout, the child settled back into the
cockpit in which he'd found refuge from the firefight between
the Queen's rebels and the Trade Federation droids. The Queen's
pilots were away -- now for the Viceroy. The Jedi Master spared
a glance backwards as they reached the door, to make certain
his command was obeyed, then snapped his attention forward as
he felt his Padawan's tension level rise suddenly.
Standing in the doorway leading from the hangar was the Sith.
Calmly, Qui-Gon and his apprentice moved forward to deal with
the creature, confident in their skills. Some small part of
Qui-Gon's mind observed, with pride, the leonine grace and
intensity of purpose displayed by his Obi-Wan. Amidala and her
band of fighters stepped aside, moving to find another route
from the hangar, many casting wary looks -- more suited for the
tempestuous meeting of forces of nature -- over their shoulders
as the Jedi and Sith ignited their energy weapons.
The Sith sneered and lifted his 'saber handle before him in a
ritualized menace. Qui-Gon noted, again, how unusually long it
was, then struggled to keep his shock from showing as a second
blade emerged from the base of the silver hilt. A lightstaff! A
weapon almost more dangerous to its wielder than his
opponents...unless the wielder was very, very skilled indeed.
His Obi-Wan never even hesitated, igniting his own blue
lightsaber the instant his robe was cast aside, moving
confidently by his Master's side. Lightly, Qui-Gon reached out
across their bond in preparation; he was pleased and honored to
find no trace of fear or uncertainty in his apprentice's mind.
Time seemed to pause. Qui-Gon felt his heart beat gently,
almost leisurely, once...twice...a third time -- and the moment
exploded into a flurry of action. Blows, feints, dodges, blocks
were exchanged, the hum and spark of the energy swords loud in
his ears. He and his Obi-Wan fought seamlessly as a team, one
striking high as the other went low, each covering and filling
any weak points in their mutual defense.
The Sith was good. He was very, very good. Craftily, he worked
against them, trying to drive them apart or crowd them
together, turn their co-operation into a weakness. But always
the two Jedi drove him back. Back. Back.
Qui-Gon began to feel something was wrong, felt a foreboding in
the Force, a sense of Darkness to come. It abruptly intensified
as the Sith landed yet another physical blow against the two
Jedi...and they had yet to touch him at all. Back again. His
Obi was sent sprawling and the Sith retreated faster. Something
was wrong! Qui-Gon followed his opponent, taking a boot to the
chest, but pressing the Sith hard. His Obi-Wan came rushing
into the fight again, landing a hail of blows before the Sith
retaliated again...this time kicking the Padawan off the
elevated walkway they had managed move onto.
Qui-Gon felt him fall, felt the instant of shocked, instinctive
panic before Jedi-trained reflexes kicked in. His Obi managed
to catch himself on the edge of a walkway far below, and hung
there for a moment, gathering his strength.
Furious, Qui-Gon pressed the Sith again, forcing him backward
along the elevated path faster and faster, forgetting about the
Dark surge he'd felt in the Force, forgetting everything save
the brief instant of terror his Padawan, his beloved Obi had
felt as he went off the edge of the walk. He didn't even see
the red laser walls until a fraction of an instant before they
cut him off from his opponent, stepping backward a hair's
breadth from the forcefield as it snapped into place between
them. Snarling, the Sith tested the laser wall with his staff,
then settled into predatory pacing, back and forth, back and
forth.
Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon calmed himself. Anger receded,
melting into the Force as he felt his Obi behind him. He
dropped to his knees and attempted to meditate, and to regain
the energy anger had stolen. As his thoughts stilled, he could
feel the concern of his apprentice, and reached through their
bond to reassure him. Faster than thought a series of images
flashed through the connection, each flavored by emotion.
His Obi-Wan had felt the Dark surge too. And it had intensified
as he hung, dangling and helpless to assist his Master,
watching his Master fight the Sith alone. A faint despair
flavored the thought, quickly suppressed.
Despair. Fighting the Sith alone. Loss, soul deep loss. 'You'll
die, Master!' Qui-Gon almost reeled under the impact of
realization. 'Don't fight him alone...promise me!' Qui-Gon
opened his eyes and met the seething, hate-filled gaze of his
enemy.
His clever, skilled enemy who had retreated until he'd gotten
the Jedi separated. 'Don't fight him alone...promise me!' The
lasers were about to cycle, he could feel it.
Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "I promise."
The red wall vanished with a click-hum and a smell of burnt
ozone.
Obi-Wan watched with barely suppressed horror as his Master
leapt to engage the Sith. He'd seen, as he hung from the
walkway, how their clever opponent had led his Master, step by
carefully planned step, away from him. The demon had managed to
separate them -- Obi knew nothing good could come of that, even
as he threw himself forward, down the hall of red beams, racing
desperately to catch up. The Force was Darkening.
Suddenly, ahead of him, he saw Qui-Gon throw himself violently
backwards, deeper into the hallway, back towards his
apprentice. At first, he thought his Master had been
struck...but then, as Qui-Gon scrambled backwards, he realized
what was happening. His Master was refusing to fight the Sith
alone! He was returning to his Padawan's side.
Obi-Wan bared his teeth in a feral grin as he literally flew
into the fight, bodily smashing the unprepared Sith away from
his Master. Then, together, he and Qui-Gon leapt at the Sith,
keeping the monster off balance and on the defensive until they
had him backed out of the hallway and into the chamber at the
end. The violent dance moved around and over the pit in the
center of the chamber, the combatants throwing themselves at
each other viciously. Several times, the Sith almost struck one
or the other of the Jedi, but each time, the second Jedi was
able to block it. Obi was certain that had either of them faced
the demon alone, they would not have survived. He was fast, and
clever, and had no fear.
Struggling against exhaustion, Obi watched the Sith carefully,
noticing how he never flinched, never recoiled from a blow,
instead seemed to move forward into it, accepting it eagerly.
He shared this observation through the bond with his Master and
Qui-Gon responded with an image of an exercise he and his Obi
had practiced when the Padawan was younger and smaller. They
tightened their bond slightly in preparation, then, together,
they suddenly split apart, throwing themselves back and away
from the Sith, disengaging completely and landing equidistant
from each other and their opponent. Obi-Wan allowed himself to
stagger upon landing, broadcasting his exhaustion briefly, then
slamming his shields closed again, as if too tired to control
them properly.
All three paused, eyeing each other warily. Qui-Gon
straightened slightly, and lowered his 'saber a fraction as he
glanced at his Obi-Wan, apparently concerned for him. Obi-Wan
simply froze, as if trying not to give anything away, even as
he favored an ankle and subtly elaborated his breathing, making
it sound harshly over the hum of the lasers. The Sith sneered
and spun his lightstaff tauntingly as he waited for one of them
to move.
Obi-Wan initiated a limping half-step forward, raising his
'saber threateningly. As soon as the Sith shifted his attention
to the advancing Jedi, Qui-Gon threw himself over the pit at
him, lightsaber raised in attack. The Sith spun to meet the
Jedi Master, 'staff at the ready, as if he'd expected the
obvious ploy, but even as Qui-Gon's 'saber met and engaged the
energy staff, Obi-Wan was landing behind the Sith and slicing
horizontally through him.
The Sith froze, began to rotate towards the Jedi behind
him...and toppled sideways into pieces. He screamed once,
scrabbling against the floor and frothing bloodily at the
mouth, then went still and limp.
Qui-Gon reached out with the Force to nudge the lightstaff, now
extinguished, away from the dead Sith's hand, then turned to
his panting Padawan. His Obi was leaning against the wall,
staring dazedly at the charred pieces of their enemy as if
expecting them to suddenly leap together again and come after
him.
But even as the Jedi Master made to approach him, his Obi
blinked, then blinked again. Straightening, Obi-Wan turned to
face his Master and suddenly grinned, as brightly as sunshine
emerging from the clouds. "We did it!" He threw himself
jubilantly into Qui-Gon's startled arms, kissing him lustily on
the mouth before drawing back to crow, "Can you feel it? The
Darkness is gone again!"
Qui-Gon nodded dazedly, his eyes fixed on his bubbling
apprentice. "Obi...."
His Obi-Wan suddenly stilled, locking gazes with his Master.
"About that conversation...."
His beloved Obi-Wan laughed out loud and kissed him again,
pulling back just enough to kiss each of Qui-Gon's eyes, and
his forehead, before returning to his Master's sweet, soft and
willing mouth. "Yes, Master," he murmured.
He was meditating in the small balcony garden attached to the
suite of rooms Bant had acquired for him, when the door chimed.
Calmly, without breaking his meditative state, he reached out
with his mind to identify his visitor, then to open the door
for her.
The rhythmic thump of her gimer stick led him up and out of his
mind and he surfaced with a sigh as she came to a stop in front
of him. Taking a deep breath, he stretched his neck, then
opened his eyes with a peaceful smile. "Good morning, Master.
Nice hat."
Yhodi gazed serenely at him for a moment, then cackled
delightedly and pulled the paper hat off her head. The
ridiculous, hot pink, silver-glitter-encrusted paper hat.
Obi-Wan grinned.
The tiny ancient reached out and thumped him lightly with her
gimer stick. "Breakfast will you offer me. News have I."
"Certainly, Master." He rose gracefully to his feet and
gestured for the small Master to precede him into the
apartments. "I have cha'ala. And would you like some tea?"
Yhodi nodded, then clambered into a chair and settled herself,
watching Obi-Wan keenly as he moved about the kitchen. "Heard
we have from Qui-Gon Jinn."
Obi-Wan froze. After a beat or two, he continued, trying to
look nonchalant. "How is Master Jinn?"
"Alive he is. Together fought he and his apprentice the Sith.
Officially has he before the Council placed a request that
Padawan Kenobi the Knight Trials take." Yhodi carefully
examined an irregularity on the handle of her gimer stick,
watching Obi-Wan out of the corner of her eye. "Also, requested
has he that together Knight Kenobi and he remain in future
assignments. Seconded this request Kenobi has."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. His face regained the color it had
lost when Yhodi announced that Qui-Gon had survived, and now it
flushed faintly pink as he tried to calm his racing heart. "I
shall have to leave them a note of congratulations."
Yhodi sighed and gave up pretending that she was not watching
him. "Hoped I had that remain you would until returned they
have. Much to teach us have you. Especially in matters of the
Sith."
"I...," Obi-Wan stopped, then forced himself to continue.
"I...I just can't. I can't face him, not yet." He abruptly
dropped to his knees in front of the diminutive being. "I just
can't, Master. I'm not ready yet. He scares me...every time I
think of him...think of meeting him, face-to-face...," he
shuddered, "I just can't do it. Not yet."
"Scares you does he?" Yhodi observed, "Why then did you to him
turn when sick and raving you were? Scared of him you may be,
but love him, you do. And trust him."
Obi-Wan took a deep, shaky breath, closing his eyes. Yhodi was
right. He did still love Qui-Gon, in all of his kinder
forms...but he was terrified of meeting up with another that
had turned Dark.
"Resolve this you must, or destroy you it will."
Obi-Wan nodded silently, then opened his eyes. "Fear leads to
anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Yes,
Master, I know --"
He was cut off by a sharp rap on his head. "Know it you do
not!" Yhodi snapped. "If know it you do, then fear Qui-Gon Jinn
you would not. Love him you do. Fear him you do. One must not
be." She smacked him on the head again. "Good man is Qui-Gon
Jinn."
Obi-Wan lowered his chin and tried not to flinch. "I am sorry,
Master. I know I must t --" He got hit again, this time hard
enough to make him bite his tongue.
"Do! There is no do not in this!"
Stung, Obi-Wan rubbed his smarting scalp. He didn't have much
choice, it seemed. "Yes, Master. I will resolve it."
"Good." Yhodi thumped the table with her stick. "Where my
cha'ala root is?"
Obi-Wan jumped up to get the plate of peeled cha'ala root he
had been preparing. Placing it before the small Jedi, he seated
himself across the table and watched her eat. Yhodi allowed him
to do so for a few minutes before glaring at him. "Go you must
soon. Feel it, even I do."
Obi-Wan nodded silently, then gestured to where his backpack
was waiting by the door. "I've already gotten all the new
supplies I needed. I have felt it too."
The little Master sighed. "Sad am I to see you go. Fond have I
become of you."
"And I of you, Master. I shall miss you." Obi-Wan rose and
moved around the table to give the other a gentle hug. "Thank
you for your advice. You are right, I do need to resolve this
conflict within me. And I will. I thank you for your concern."
He knelt. "But I must go, very soon."
Yhodi nodded. "Escort you to the gardens will I then." She
hopped off the chair and led the way to the door. Obi-Wan
gathered up his pack and followed her out the door and down the
hall.
"Your Yoda... like me does he look?"
"Yes, Master, so much so that I did not know the difference
when I first saw you."
"Ah." She sounded pleased. "Very handsome then is he. Very
attractive. Many ladies must he have chasing him!"
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