Summary: Just what you've been waiting for - sa and Mama Deb
have written a story together. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Warnings: see above <g>
Notes
from Mama Deb:It was a lot of fun. Much thanks to Iroshi for
moral support and Wolfling for a masterful (or even Masterful)
beta reading.
from saraid: this isn't the story i originally planned to write
with mama when we first discussed the idea over a year ago :)
but i think, in lots of ways, it's better. for starters, it's
tpm and not ts. we had a great time, it's scary how much we
canthink alike, and she made this a much better story than my
poor little original idea ever hoped to grow up to be. love to
my squash, and heidi!
Obi-Wan stood by the pyre. He watched the flames engulf the
form of his Master, and wondered why he never realized the
depths of his feelings for the man who had shaped his life
before it was too late. He'd been a fool.
The flames rose and the heat became intense, but he refused to
back away, accepting this pain, almost needing it to balance
the new one being birthed in his soul.
Using the Force, he could see across the city if he needed to.
Looking at a person, he could see inner strength or beauty or
the ugliness people tried to hide.
But now he knew that he'd been blind.
Fire.
He stared at the fire.
Flames warmed and soothed, or raged and destroyed.
Like the Force itself, fire could be used for good or evil.
There had been a night, years ago - how many years? He had to
think about it.
Nearly three years now.
There had been a fire that night, badly needed, almost
desperately needed.
Without closing his eyes, Obi-Wan Kenobi allowed the scorching
light of the flames to carry him into the memory that tormented
him.
It had been the coldest night he'd ever experienced.
When Senator Terrancka of Fay're Four had been kidnapped from
his home, the Jedi Council had, as requested by the planetary
government, sent their best team to retrieve him.
Trapped in the middle portion of their long year-cycle, the
planet was basically frozen over. Oceans and land were both
crusted with ice. No one moved on Fay're Four during the long
night, as the natives called it.
Which meant that the Senator had been taken by off-worlders or
that some faction of his opponents had lost their minds. There
wasn't even any help available to the Jedi, which had angered
Qui-Gon, though he hid it well.
Three days into the search, the unrelenting darkness grating on
their nerves, the pair was forced to land the hover vehicle
they were using to track the kidnappers when the power pack
failed.
There was a spare, but it would require hours to charge up. In
the meantime the interior of the hover became unbearably cold,
the metal surrounding them leeching the warmth from their
bodies.
"We must find shelter," Qui-Gon told his apprentice calmly,
packing them a bag.
"I've scanned the area, there is a somewhat protected spot two
kilometers west," Obi-Wan answered. Although he hadn't been
expecting this, his Master expected him to consider all
possibilities and prepare for them, so scanning for potential
escape routes or shelter was second nature. He received an
approving smile for the effort now.
Bundled up with extra cloaks over heavy parkas of native fur,
they left the safety of the hover and walked into the cold.
Surprisingly, it was beautiful.
The dark sky sparkled with an abundance of stars, their light
undiminished, no city lights to interfere with the view. There
were no clouds, no snow. Just the fierce grip of the cold to
tell them the danger they were in.
Walking behind his Master, protected from the scouring wind by
the taller, broader form, Obi-Wan thanked the Force, again, for
Qui-Gon.
If his Master had not taken him as Padawan, he would have never
seen this planet, or this night.
The shelter he had found was an outcropping of rock that formed
a rough triangle about six feet high, the top open to the sky.
Inside there was just enough room to sit side-by-side and start
a small fire with the fuel pellets Qui-Gon had packed. They
burned hot and long.
After the fire was started and the rocks around them began to
warm slightly - which meant the ice slid off them - Obi-Wan
leaned back and tilted his head up to the stars.
"I've never seen so many," he said, mildly surprised.
"This is a densely packed galaxy," Qui-Gon agreed, sounding
like a teacher. It made Obi-Wan laugh softly, and his Master
smiled at him. "I spoke to the Council before the ship powered
down. You were busy trying to find us a place to land." He
sounded the same as always; calm, collected. Controlled.
"Yes?" Looking directly at him, Obi-Wan could see no sign of
distress, but that did not mean the news was good.
"Intelligence operatives lead the Council to believe that
Senator Terrancka was taken by his own people. There is a
faction that has publicly committed themselves to preventing
the completion of the trade negotiations that will be brought
up in the next session."
"I see." There was more, he knew."
"This means that they will be willing to go to desperate
lengths to prevent his recovery," Qui-Gon concluded.
"Including killing him and themselves," Obi-Wan guessed.
"And anyone who finds them."
A silence fell. It wasn't broken by anything. The wind was
silent, the fuel pellets burned without a crackle.
It seemed that Obi-Wan could hear the stars twinkle.
"Dangerous missions are nothing new," he said at last, glad of
the warning.
"There is something new to discuss, Padawan."
It wasn't the words...the words were just average, everyday
words, strung together in a sentence.
It was the voice that spoke them.
Sitting up slowly, almost frightened, Obi-Wan considered the
voice and felt his master's eyes upon him.
What could make Qui-Gon sound that way? So ...lost and
frightened?
Never frightened. Not his Master.
"Something new?" he offered, suddenly unsure.
"Yes." Moving with the silent grace that was his trademark,
Qui-Gon rose to his knees and put his hands on the rock to
either side of Obi-Wan's head, framing him.
"It has taken me many months and long nights of meditation, but
this is something I can no longer keep to myself. It is
something that must be spoken aloud, if only once, to be
accepted."
"Master..." Reaching with one hand, Obi-Wan touched the taller
man's shoulder, felt the tremor there. "What is it?"
"I love you." Whispered with shame, the words did not seem to
bring the older man relief. Yet he said no more, simply watched
the younger while Obi-Wan tried to make sense of them.
"I know that," Obi-Wan said at last, deliberately ignoring the
other potential interpretations. The consequences were too
overwhelming.
"I love you, Qui-Gon repeated. The he lowered his head and
brushed his cold lips over Obi-Wan's mouth, and the younger man
pulled back, bumping his head against the rock, speechless.
He stared at his Master and Qui-Gon stared at him.
Then the Jedi Master returned to his seated position, tilting
his head back and staring at the stars.
The silence loomed, grew legs and walked.
Walked over and took Obi-Wan by the neck and strangled him.
He couldn't draw a breath.
"It will not be spoken of again." His Master's voice, easing
the grip of the silence, letting him breathe.
"There is no shame, Obi-Wan, that you do not return what I
feel. I am gifted by the Force to feel it, and I will treasure
it as my own. Please-" There was a tiny catch in the rich,
rumbly voice, "-please do not concern yourself with it."
A loud pop from the flames he watched drew the young Jedi from
his vision of the past, and the silent fire that burned in his
mind's eye was replaced by this fire, and the sight of his
master's body, burning.
He had allowed himself to forget. It had not concerned him past
that night. The next day they had tracked down the kidnappers,
rescued the Senator, and gone home to Coruscant, to be welcomed
with quiet praise that as would have amounted to a parade
anywhere else.
It had never been mentioned between them again.
He watched the pyre burn to ashes, leaving nothing behind of
the body. The cinders had stung his eyes, bringing tears, but
now they were dry, drier than they should have been. A hand
touched his shoulder as he stared at the smoldering mass in
front of him.
"Obi-Wan, it's time to leave." Apina's voice was soft and
gentle, like the feel of her hand. "There is nothing more you
can do for him."
He turned to face her. The slender, dark-skinned woman was as
beautiful as ever, a perfect balance of intelligence and
strength, just as...he shoved that thought down. She pulled him
into her arms.
"He was my...my Master. He...I'm alone."
"I'm here, Obi-Wan. And I love you. Remember?" She'd said those
words to him so many times in the past year, since they'd
become lovers.
She'd just become a Jedi Knight herself. She and her Master had
had a ceremony to cut off her Padawan braid, and then she'd
invited all the newer Knights and older Apprentices to a
celebration in one of the small parks that dotted the
city-covered planet.
It had been a rare evening of no responsibilities for all of
them, and they'd taken advantage of it. Someone had even
provided music and everyone paired off to dance.
Obi-Wan had been stunned when she'd asked him to join her. Not
only was she incredibly beautiful, she was also known as one of
the most promising of the knights, having sped through her
apprenticeship. And he was still a lowly Padawan and likely to
be so for years to come.
Despite his Master's kind words.
"I've been watching you, Obi-Wan. I've seen you spar with
Master Jinn. No one moves as gracefully - it looks as though
you are dancing. I want to dance with you for real."
He'd blushed and taken her hand, and they moved together to the
music. They spent the rest of the evening together. When they
weren't dancing, they were laughing and talking, and later,
they were holding hands and kissing. Later still, he found
himself dancing a different dance in her bedroom, while the
lights of Coruscant flickered outside her window.
He awoke within her arms the next morning. Apina smiled at him,
her eyes glowing. "I think I'm falling in love with you,
Obi-Wan Kenobi."
She bent to kiss his lips. He pulled her closer and deepened
it, allowing their tongues to meet and wrestle. When they
finally parted, he lay back with a sigh.
"I could fall in love with you, too. I think...I think I have."
She smiled at him and they made love again. She, more
experienced, taught him how to use his hands and mouth to give
and take pleasure, and she complimented him on how quickly he
learned. That got her tickled. While they were laughing, his
communit chimed.
"Where are you, my Padawan?" It was his Master, his voice
unreadable. He checked the time. He was nearly late for a
training session. "My apologies, Master. I will be there
directly."
"See that you are."
Obi-Wan jumped into his clothes, dropped one last kiss on
Apina's face and ran out of her quarters, leaving her chuckling
in the bed. He arrived at the training arena within minutes.
Qui-Gon was already there.
"Where were you, young Padawan?"
He couldn't meet his Master's eyes. "I...I was with Apina. We
were celebrating..."
"She's a lovely woman and strong in the Force. Did you enjoy
your time with her?"
Obi-Wan kept his eyes down. "Yes, Master."
"If you wish, you have my permission to see her again, your
duties permitting."
Obi-Wan gasped. "Master...I'm sorry. I did not mean to hurt
you. It will not happen again." He knew how Qui-Gon felt about
him, and now he had the gall to throw someone else in his face?
How could he do such a thing?
"You did not hurt me. You cannot hurt me. If she brings you
joy, my apprentice, it is enough for me." His Master smiled.
"But see that you are not late for training sessions in the
future."
Obi-Wan nodded, and they began to spar.
He and Apina did not have many nights together in the months
that followed. It wasn't often that both were on Coruscant and
both were duty-free. However, he cherished those nights he'd
spent in her arms, and they began to speak of forming a love
bond once his apprenticeship was over. He still felt odd
talking about her to his Master, but Qui-Gon never showed a
sign of anything but approval.
And now he stood in her arms by the remains of the funeral
pyre, and she was telling him she loved him, as she had so many
times before. It should have felt familiar and comforting.
Instead he was empty, and she could have been a stranger for
all the affect her words had upon him. He pulled her close in
an attempt to feel something, but his thoughts were far away
and very confused.
"My love?"
"Let's go, Apina. I can do nothing more here."
She smiled sadly. "He was a great Jedi, Obi-Wan, as you will
be. You will do him, and me, proud." She took him by the hand
and led him to a groundcar, which she directed towards her own
quarters. He sat numbly beside her as she drove.
Like those of many Jedi, Apina's quarters were spare and
simple. She had neither need nor desire for material things.
Her one luxury was the large bed under her windows and even it
was covered only in the simplest sheets and spread.
Obi-Wan followed her there, joining her as she sat on its edge.
She stroked his hair, playing with the apprentice braid. "This
will go soon, my love. It should have gone long ago, but your
Master..."
"My Master waited until I was ready." The first emotion he'd
felt and it was anger. Quickly, he controlled it as all Jedi
must, lest it lead to hatred, as Master Yoda had taught.
"Of course. I cared for your Master as well. He was a good and
wise man, and he trained you to be the best." She spoke
soothingly. Her voice rang with honesty...and something else.
"Now...let me ease your grief so you can face your trials."
Their lips met. Hers were warm, skilled and loving, but he felt
nothing more than pressure. All passion seemed to be gone,
burnt out by that fire. She knew something was wrong and let
him go. "My love, he is gone and I am here. Let me take care of
you." She gently touched his face, there.
He jumped, clapping his hand where her fingers had...he could
only think "profaned." This was wrong. This was very, very
wrong. He ran out of her quarters, listening to her shout
"Obi-Wan!" as he did.
He wandered the city blindly, trusting in the Force to keep him
safe. Emotions, new but strangely familiar, coursed through his
mind. Had he really been that foolish all those years?
"No! No! I won't let him go!" His throat burned.
"Master Jinn's awake! Shush, Master. Lie still." It was an
unfamiliar voice, rich and soothing, and his hands were gentle.
"You'll open the wounds. The healer's coming."
Qui-Gon nodded and settled back on his pillows. He pushed the
great pain he felt behind his consciousness as he had been
trained, and opened his eyes. No, he did not know the man with
the long dark curls and the brilliant eyes, but he could sense
only goodness in him. It was then, when he reached for the
Force, that he realized something was gone. "Where is he? Where
is my Padawan?"
"Obi-Wan is not here, Master Jinn."
"I cannot sense him. Is he...no!" He struggled to leave the
bed, but the nurse would not permit this. Nor did the man have
difficulty making him stay. "I must go! Something has happened
to my Padawan."
"You cannot help him in your state, Master Jinn." Qui-Gon
turned to see a stately woman, her silver hair piled high on
her head, walk to his bed. "You are still recovering."
"It is just a weakness of the body, Healer. My bond with my
Padawan is gone. I must find him."
"It is more than a weakness. What do you remember last?"
"We fought the Sith. I...I lost. But Obi-Wan won. Where is he?
Why can't I touch our bond?"
The Healer touched his shoulder. "The bond between a Jedi and
his apprentice is broken by two things - an act of will when
the apprentice is ready to be on his own or if one of the pair
dies. This is something you know, Master Jinn."
A Jedi is trained to ignore strong emotions such as anger and
hatred. Qui-Gon had learned those lessons well as a child
brought up by them. Those lessons were forgotten as grief and
pain and loss descended upon him like a dark blanket. Obi-Wan
dead? It couldn't be. He'd seen him last alive and healthy;
he'd touched his warm, beautiful face. Desperately, he reached
for some last remnant of him in his mind, and found nothing
there but emptiness. As a tear streaked down his face, he gazed
at the Healer. "How? How did Obi-Wan die?"
"He did not die, Master Jinn. You did. It took all my
skills, and those of others greater than I, to bring you back
and we do not know how much damage will be permanent."
The blanket of despair was gone. He could live, he could
breathe - Obi-Wan was alive and that was the only thing that
mattered. Except..."Where is he? Will he be here?"
The Healer shook her head. "Obi-Wan will not be here. He
believes you are ashes."
"Why? How?"
"How is simple. There were an abundance of bodies left from the
battle. We used the Force to disguise one. Why will become
clear in time, but for now it is best that only a very few know
you live - or rather, that you have returned."
"Obi-Wan can be trusted. I trust him with my life, my soul."
"It is not for you to decide, Master Jinn. For now, all you
must do is rest." She gestured to the young nurse, who injected
something into him. "This will only aid your rest. I will
return later."
Qui-Gon watched her depart in a swirl of green robes. He could
feel the medication drag him down and fought it, until the
nurse laid another gentle hand on him. "Sleep, Master. It is
hard work to learn how to live again."
Obi-Wan woke up with a start. He saw him again, as
beautiful and strong as he ever was. More so, because now
Obi-Wan knew him for beautiful, when before he only knew him as
Master.
He was having these dreams every night now. Each night, Qui-Gon
came to him, more and more clearly. This night, he even thought
he could hear him. What was wrong with him? Qui-Gon was
dead. He'd seen him burn.
Sleep was impossible. It took him hours to fall off in the
first place, but once he'd had the dream, he was awake for the
rest of the night and no good for his new work with the
smallest children in the daytime. Frustrated, Obi-Wan threw
back the covers of his bed, tossed on some clothing and went
out into the night... a night nearly as starry as that one on
that icy world.
Resolutely he put the memory from his mind, refusing to allow
it to surface. The effort was substantial and, to avoid the
stars that were hindering it, he turned away from the outer
hall of the Temple and began walking inwards, toward the
center.
There were no windows here, only the soft illumination of
natural glow lights.They made the marble floors and polished
stone walls shimmer.
After a few minutes he noted, with sad - and amused -
exasperation, that the flecks of green and gold in the stone
caught the light in just the right way, at certain levels and
angles.
And twinkled, like stars.
Putting both hands to his face, he shook his head and muttered,
still walking, the Force wide open, leading his steps as he
followed, unquestioning.
His feet hit the floor softly, the rhythm soothing.
Not truly aware of the passage of time, half-asleep as he
walked, rubbing at his face and eyes and shoulders at odd
intervals, it wasn't until he reached the main intersection of
the large hallways that he stopped and looked around.
Vaguely he wondered how he'd gotten there.
Suddenly his face ached, and he raised both hands to rub at it,
then stopped himself.
His face didn't hurt.
Neither did his head, or shoulders.
Yet there was a ghostly ache - almost an echo - spreading
through them. Then it eased and he could feel its absence as
clearly as he had felt its presence.
"I am losing my mind," he said softly into the echoing vastness
of the hallways, deserted at this hour.
Turning slowly in a slight circle, on his heel, he opened
himself as far as he could welcoming the Force into his mind
and heart, pleading with it to lead him to peace.
There was danger in this, in calling to the unknown, but he
felt so alone, cut off from the Jedi, his mind faltering under
the burden of solitary existence...
If there was anything out there that could help, he wanted it.
Needed it.
With a whisper of response his call was answered, but by the
one voice he would never hear again, except in dreams.
[Padawan...come to me...I need you...]
"Master..." Turning in his circle, he spun faster, arms
outspread, cloak lifting with the Force. [Where are you,
Master, I will come, I will come...]
[Need...you...hurts...come.]
Faster and faster Obi-Wan spun, until he was short of breath
and dizzy and then, with a stunning loss of grace, he stumbled,
and fell, hitting the floor hard, lying there, gasping.
The voice was gone.
"So is my mind," he said out loud. Then he shouted it, the
words ringing off the walls. "SO IS MY MIND!"
Lying flat on his back in the middle of the intersection, the
marble hard and cold, sucking the warmth from his body, Obi-Wan
began to laugh. At first quietly, and then loudly, great
guffaws of desperate, pained humor torn from his soul.
He hadn't lost his Master. He'd lost everything.
The laughter trailed off to quiet, cleansing sobs. Rolling to
his stomach, he pillowed his face on his arms and cried
quietly.
The change in the Force alerted him to the presence of another,
but he did not move.
It was just easier to lie there, sniffling a little, and hope
that they, whoever they were, would go away. The Force
signature wasn't anyone he recognized, but it was strong enough
to be a Padawan or a Knight.
"Can I help you?" A male voice, deep and smooth, and the heat
of a hand hovering over his shoulder.
"Time is the only help I can expect." Feeling a surge of anger
that this man had intruded upon his grief, Obi-Wan released it
almost as soon as it rose. He was, after all, having his
breakdown in a public place.
Strong but gentle hands turned him and he looked up, seeing
dark curls and the bluest eyes.
The man wore not the robe of a Jedi, but the plain, rough tunic
and trous of a healer. But there was no trim to his tunic, no
sign of rank.
"You're -" Obi-Wan had to swallow, his throat dry, "-you're not
Jedi? You are very - gifted - in the Force."
A smile flickered on the masculine face.
"There are many ways to serve the Light Side. This is mine."
"You're a nurse." Figuring it out, Obi-Wan relaxed into the
hands that helped him sit.
"And you're in pain."
The statement was so blunt, so blatant, that the Jedi couldn't
even draw breath to protest it.
He managed a shrug.
"Tell me about it." The nurse offered, sitting beside him,
settling cross-legged, looking as if he could wait forever. "My
name is Aribl, and I would like to help you."
"I'm - Obi-Wan. Kenobi. I was Padawan to Master Jinn..." He
trailed off and blinked fiercely as tears threatened again.
"And now he is lost to you." Aribl nodded. "You seek him
through the night? It would be better to rest, and let him come
to you."
"Rest? My Master is dead. I cannot rest."As soon as the harsh
words left his mouth, Obi-Wan regretted them, but the nurse
seemed unaffected."He can't come to me. He no longer exists."
"Not the way you think, perhaps, but I am absolutely certain
that your Master still exists, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and that he
seeks your presence as desperately as you seek his."
"He called me." Twisting to look into those bright eyes,
Obi-Wan spoke quickly. "I heard him. He said he was hurting,
and that he needed me. I have to find a way to go to him."
Large hands, the backs of which were sprinkled with dark hair,
clasped over Obi-Wan's and held them tightly.
"I am losing my mind, aren't I?" Obi-Wan said
conversationally, shocked by his own words. "When the bond
broke between myself and my Master, when he died in my arms, I
felt something break inside me. And it's something that can't
be fixed, isn't it?
"Everything can be fixed, if you have faith," Aribl said, with
affectionate sternness. "You must trust the Force."
"It has betrayed me."
"You must Trust the Force," Aribl repeated.
Unable to answer, Obi-Wan was silent for a time. Then he pulled
his hands free and the nurse did not object.
"You do not think I'm going insane? Or that the Dark Side is
calling me?"
The blue gaze was steady and insistent."I know it is. You would
never betray your Master by turning, no matter what the
reward."
"Not even to get him back," Obi-Wan agreed, sighing and
deflating.
"Go to your quarters." Standing, Aribl reached a hand to
Obi-Wan who took it, staring at him.
"Sleep, in his bed if you must."
He tugged and Obi-Wan rose to his feet, shaky from sitting so
long, cold from the floor.
"Let him come to you, however the Force allows." The nurse,
whom he now realized was shorter than himself, and stockier,
touched Obi-Wan's cheek gently with his fingertips, the same
place Qui-Gon had touched as he died.
Unlike the touch of Apina's hand, days earlier, this was a
blessing. A benediction.
"You-" He caught his breath and exhaled slowly, reaching for
control that came easier now. "You believe that he will?"
"I know it," Aribl said softly, drawing his hand away. "Go
now."
As he walked away, gaining strength with each stride, Obi-Wan
felt those blue eyes watching him, until he turned a corner. It
was only later, when he was almost to the rooms he had shared
with his Master, that he realized that Aribl's blue eyes bore a
strong resemblance to stars.
"No! Get that thing away from me." Qui-Gon fought for calm. "In
fact, get your self away from me."
The nurse stepped back, startled, still holding the syringe in
her hand. "You are in great pain, Master Jinn. This will ease
it."
"It will put me in such deep sleep that not even a disturbance
in the Force could wake me. I refuse it. I will bear the pain."
"I cannot disobey the Healer."
"Then summon her. Now." There. His voice was as calm as ever.
The nurse ran out of the room, still carrying that drug in her
hands.
He lay back upon the bed. He would only have a brief time alone
and conscious. He willed the pain in his chest, in his body, as
far back as he could. He could not get it to the level he no
longer felt it, but at least it would not interfere greatly. He
then forced his mind to stillness and reached out to Obi-Wan
yet again.
Obi-Wan, I am here. I need you, Obi-Wan. Come to me. Hear
me, Obi-Wan. I am here. Long before the Healer arrived, he
was exhausted from the twin efforts of controlling the pain and
of sending his thoughts. He could not even tell if Obi-Wan had
received them, although he felt something that made him
think some might have reached their target. If only he could
sense Obi-Wan as he had before.
What little strength he had was gone. He collapsed back onto
his pillows, covered in sweat and beginning to shake as his
control all but left him again. He closed his eyes. He would
control himself. He was a Jedi knight.
As he lay there, no longer able to exist solely inside his
mind, he became conscious of more than just the pain in his
body. He could feel the softness of the sheets, the weight and
heft of the blanket. Outside in the corridors, he could hear
voices murmuring and over all of it was the smell of the
infirmary - drugs, illness, and above all, disinfectants.
There were no windows in his room. He couldn't tell day from
night, nor one hour from the next. This was almost the worst
part of his confinement. It was as if nothing existed outside
this place.
They told him this was for security - that if he had a window,
he could be seen, and that only those with special clearance
could even enter his room. He might as well have been in
prison.
The door opened, and the Healer walked in. This time, the
elegant robes that swirled around her were dark maroon,
emphasizing the porcelain of her skin. "You frightened your
nurse, Master Jinn."
"I would prefer Aribl to be my nurse, Healer Estern." He had to
force himself to speak above a whisper.
"Aribl is our best, which is why we assigned him to you, but he
has to sleep. As must you."
"Soon, my Healer. When may I see my...Obi-Wan?"
Estern shook her head. "The time is not right. You are not
healed enough, body or soul."
"I need to see Obi-Wan. I will not rest, I will not take any
drugs, I will do nothing until I see him and he knows I
am alive."
"It is not in my hands, Jedi Knight." Her cool eyes looked
straight into his.
He returned her gaze. "The council has decided that he is to be
kept in ignorance and grief? I can feel his grief, Healer. It
is very far away, but it is there."
"I cannot talk about the council. I can only do as they tell
me."
"Then I wish to speak to the council. Surely they know I
live." He was ashamed to see he was clenching the blanket in
his fists. He forced his hands to open and lie quietly, but
moments later, they were holding his covers again.
"They know, Master Jinn. I will talk to them. But you must
sleep now. Allow me to administer the sedative."
"I will not take it." Drawing on the Force as strongly as he
could, he forced the syringe in her hand to fall to the floor
and break.
He nearly blacked out from the effort.
As he lay there grasping on to his consciousness, he could hear
her run into the corridor and shout for a cleaning device and a
communit. Moments later she returned and cleaned the floor
herself. She carefully rearranged her robes when she finished
her task and stood.
"I have sent for Aribl. Perhaps he can help if I can not. He
will be here shortly."
"Thank you, Healer." Qui-Gon could feel himself relax with
those words. She nodded and, in a swirl of maroon, left the
room again, closing the door behind her.
Qui-Gon found himself wondering why just hearing that that
young nurse was returning gave him such comfort. There was
something about him...he was clearly an empath, a valuable
skill for his profession, but there was more.
Aribl...he knew that name. It had been a minor event -
one of the most promising padawans of a generation had quit his
Jedi training in the middle to enter medicine. The council had
been divided. Only because the boy's Master had spoken for him
had he been permitted to do so.
So the nurse had the ability to be a Jedi and the calling to
heal, plus gentleness and strength of will. No wonder Qui-Gon
drew comfort from his very presence.
As he lay there musing, two men entered his room. One was
Aribl, with rumpled curls and a disappointed expression on his
face. The other was a tall man with short dark hair and clear
blue eyes in the robes of a Jedi knight. He stood with his arm
protectively draped over Aribl.
He looked familiar. "Je-Sma? You were in my covert negotiations
class, were you not?"
The man nodded. "Yes, Master. Had I known it was you, we would
have been here earlier."
"How is it that Je-Sma can be here and Obi-Wan cannot?"
The two men exchanged glances, then Aribl turned to Qui-Gon.
"He and I are bonded. There is nothing one of us knows that the
other does not. Je-Sma is often, too often, away on missions,
so it was deemed safe for him to know. Also, he is a stubborn
man and would not let me come here on my own." He gave Je-Sma a
fond smile.
"I have just returned from a journey, Master, and Aribl, who
would work day and night if he could, had just come home mere
hours ago."
"My apologies, then."
"My love, will you stand outside for the moment?" Je-Sma
nodded. He dropped a very small kiss on Aribl's head and left
the room. Aribl pulled a chair up to Qui-Gon's bedside and took
his hand gently.
"You are in great pain, Master Jinn. We can ease it."
"Until I see Obi-Wan, I will not be put under. You would feel
the same way if...it were Je-Sma."
Aribl closed his eyes to concentrate. "I can sense something
growing, but it's thin and fragile." He opened them again. "You
do need him, and he needs you. I feel the hurt coming from both
of you. Master, if I were permitted, I would rouse him and
bring him to you immediately, but it is not up to me. Perhaps
if I were more courageous...At least let me ease what I can of
the pain myself."
"There is too much, young nurse. You need your strength for
your work and your bondmate."
Aribl smiled and then appeared to concentrate. Slowly Qui-gon
felt the pain drain away from his own body until it was only a
shadow, while the nurse's beautiful face became drawn, with
white lips and narrowed eyes. Almost immediately, the Jedi
knight ran into the room and pulled their hands apart. He
enfolded Aribl in his arms and held him.
Dimly, Qui-Gon could sense Je-Sma lending his own strength to
his partner until, with help, Aribl could stand again.
"Sleep, Master. The pain will return but will not wake you. I
will plead on your behalf."
"And you?" Qui-Gon felt himself begin to drift.
"I will care for him, Master. Do not worry." Je-Sma's voice was
the last thing Qui-Gon heard before falling asleep.
Alone in his quarters.
Sitting in his chair - the one across the table from his
Master's chair - Obi-Wan pondered the concept. It was almost a
meditation, but he refused to let himself sink into it as
deeply as his mind desired.
There might be peace in meditation, there might be healing.
But, as well he knew, one had to want to be healed.
If this pain was all he had left of his Master, then he would
embrace it, make it his own.
As he had been his Master's, so would his Master's death be
his.
Pushing back from the table, he stood, rubbing at his eyes. His
ear felt cold, no longer tickled by the braid that had hung
behind it for so many years.
A Jedi Knight.
They expected great things of him, he knew, though the Council
tried to hide it. All of the questions of Anakin's future, all
the possibilities, he was now responsible for them.
The way Qui-Gon had been responsible for Obi-Wan's.
He had lived up to that potential, realized those
possibilities, or at least the beginnings of them, but now he
stalled. On the verge of his life, the life he had always
wanted, unable to step over that threshold and live it.
Alone.
It wasn't like Anakin wasn't there, but even the first tiny
tendrils of the teaching bond made his stomach curl when he
touched them, and sent his unruly mind searching blindly,
blithely, for the touch that should have been there.
Closing his eyes, he wandered the main room between the two
small bedrooms, needing no light to see them.
As happened more often than not, he opened the glass doors to
find himself on the small balcony, and looked up at the night
sky.
The lights of the city-planet made the stars hard to see, but
he didn't have to see them to know they were there.
Just as he didn't have to touch the bond to know Anakin was in
his head.
The boy was adapting quickly, he should be thankful for that.
Joining in his classes with enthusiasm, catching up faster than
expected.
But still he needed to be in the creche, with the others his
age, to learn the things they didn't teach slaves, things like
how to be a person.
For so many things children were the best teachers.
And they slept when they were tired.
Sighing, dropping his eyes form the unrevealing sky, Obi-Wan
paced the room again. Sleep came fitfully at best, and he
dreaded another night in his cold bed. He didn't have to
be alone. If he called her, Apina would come. She would
forgive, and comfort.
The last thing he wanted right now was to touch another.
The very thought made his skin crawl.
There was only one touch he craved, mental or physical, and he
had rejected it years ago, unknowing.
Ignorance was no excuse. He hadn't even considered it,
and the fact that his Master had not pushed now said more to
him than any explanation could have.
Whatever he wanted, Qui-Gon had given him. Love, acceptance,
comfort, and then freedom.
And he had repaid it by throwing that love back in the older
man's face, choosing instead to dally with women he didn't care
for, and to profess his love for someone he could now barely
stand to see.
Each circuit of the room took him a few steps closer to his
Master's bedroom door.
All of his things were in it, everything he owned that had not
been on his person when he died.
Despite urging, Obi-Wan had failed to clear it out and claim
the slightly larger room as his own.
When Anakin became his Padawan officially, which could be any
time in the next few months, he would have to do that.
But for now it remained, a silent shrine to his failure.
Stopping now before the door itself, he pushed it open with a
touch of the Force.
The bed was made, the desk cleared, the wardrobe tidy.
So like his Master.
With a sigh of resignation he walked in and lay down on the
bed, scarcely disturbing the wrinkleless spread.
Perhaps if he slept here he wouldn't feel alone tonight.
Qui-Gon used the Force to toss the tray of food across the
room. The effort cost him more than he would have liked, but it
made a most satisfactory mess.
"I will not eat until I can see my...until I can see
Obi-Wan. I have told you all that." And keeping his voice calm
took even more effort.
Estern's face, as usual, was without expression. "If you do not
eat, we will find other ways to feed you."
"I will sabotage them. You know I can." He looked at her and at
Aribl.
"What would you have us do? It is not up to us to tell
Obi-Wan."
"Talk to the council, then. It was important for them to bring
me back from the dead; surely it is important for them to keep
me alive."
"Healer, perhaps we should do as Master Jinn says? He is no
longer healing."
"I will not permit us to be blackmailed, Nurse, no matter how
important the patient thinks he is." She cast one more
look at the mess on the wall and swept out in a flurry of dark
velvet.
Aribl picked up the cleaning device that now remained in
Qui-Gon's room and began taking care of the smashed tray. "She
is in charge of your case, Master. I can no more go against her
wishes than I can go against the council's."
"Do you know where Obi-Wan is?"
"Yes, of course. He's teaching now, until his Padawan is ready
for training."
"He's in pain. I can feel it, even without the teaching
bond."Qui-Gon found himself clenching his covers as he said
those words.
Aribl's full lips narrowed. He stood still for a moment, his
cleaning task done, and then nodded. "He hurts. He's been told
one thing by the people he trusts most in the universe and he
senses something else. The contradiction is tearing him apart.
I shouldn't be telling you this."
"But you are."
He nodded. "Because your lack of knowledge is impeding your
healing. Healer Estern is one of the best physicians and
surgeons we have, but she doesn't recognize the mind as playing
a role." He bit his lips. "The council is wrong. Whatever their
plan is regarding you, this is wrong."
Aribl was clearly distressed at saying that. He ran his fingers
through his curls and paced. "I don't know what to do, Master.
I can't go against the Healer or the Council, but if I
don't, we'll lose two of you...three of you because no one else
will train Anakin. Even Je-Sma can't help me sleep at night.
Tell me what to do, Master Jinn."
"Follow your heart, young nurse. What does it tell you?"Qui-Gon
knew he wouldn't have to say more to him.
"I...I'm not permitted to leave you, Master. Not unless you eat
or accept medication."
"I will accept neither until my former Padawan is here with
me."
Even if it means my death.
Aribl looked at him at that thought. "Please do not do so with
me around, Master Jinn. I will do my best."
Qui-Gon nodded. He had faith in the young man's sense of right
and wrong.
"It seems, Master Jinn, that you are causing a small
disturbance in the Force." Qui-Gon looked up. Estern, her face
something less than impassive, had entered the room. "You have
a visitor."
A small figure in Jedi robes followed her in. "A problem you
have been, Qui-Gon."
"It is good to see you, Master Yoda."
"Leave now you may, Healer and nurse. Alone to talk we must
be."
"I will think about what you said, Master Jinn." Aribl touched
his hand before he left, making the pain slightly less. Estern
said nothing as she followed him out of the room.
"Aribl is he not? Great loss he was. Great problem you are,
Qui-Gon. Why?"
"Why are you lying to my former Padawan? He is grieving for no
reason."
"Lied we must. Secret you must be for mission we now plan.
Recovered you must be for mission."
Qui-Gon looked at his former master. "What mission? Why must I
be a secret even from him?"
"Calm you must be. Anger danger is. This I taught." Qui-Gon
fought to recover calm. When he did, Master Yoda continued. "A
Sith there is. Killed only one was. We must this other Sith
find before he an apprentice takes."
"Of course. How do I fit?"
"Living he does not know you are. Look for you he will not. Him
you will find, him you will remove. Recover you must, so eat
you must, and take your medications you must."
"Let me talk to Obi-Wan."
"Know Obi-Wan must not. Danger to you and plan would be. On
this mission, go Obi-Wan must not."
"Why not?"
"He Padawan has. He responsibilities has. He...not working well
is."
"No?"
"Not sleeping is. Not stable is. Not ready to be Jedi was, but
Jedi is. Grow he must, alone. Do this you must, alone."
"He isn't stable because he senses me, Master. He knows I'm
alive, and believes I am dead."
"Sense you he cannot. Bond broken was. Died you did."
"Master Yoda, there is another bond. Use the Force and look at
me." Qui-Gon did his best to lay quietly in the bed, steeling
himself for the intrusion. Yoda's mind burned even at the
lightest touch.
"Wrong this is! Unauthorized this is! Permission you had not!
This broken must be."
"Which one of us will you kill this time, Master Yoda? This
bond just happened, which means it's not under my control."
"This...much thought needs. Kill we cannot and will not. Tell
Obi-Wan...about it we will think."
"If you want to do your mission..."
"This blackmail is. Counterdeal...this mission you will do, and
if survive you do, tell Obi-Wan we will."
"And if he loses his mind before then?"
"Risk we must take to Sith Lord remove."
"No. I'm not willing to risk this. Think, Master Yoda. With
this bonding, if I die, he dies. If he goes insane, I go
insane."
"Bond weak is. Break it we may."
"And it may not kill Obi if I die now."
"Impasse this is. I to council will talk. Trouble you are,
Qui-Gon. Trouble you both are."
With that, he left the room. Qui-Gon barely heard him go. They
were willing to risk Obi-Wan's life, Obi-Wan's sanity, even
Anakin, for this mission. This was not the Master he loved or
the council he served. This was a nightmare, and he was not
showing any signs of waking. There was no one left he could
trust...except for a nurse torn between him and duty.
Suddenly, it and the pain were all too much for Qui-Gon. He
could feel the control he'd been taught so strongly begin to
slip. A single tear, one more than he'd shed in a lifetime,
rolled down his face. Obi-Wan, I'm sorry. Nothing is
right.
Aribl returned soon after, to find him lying perfectly still,
his eyes staring at the ceiling, his face wet. The nurse
touched his cheek for a second but even that didn't ease the
pain.
"Kenobi!" The low voice of the children's section headmaster
broke through Obi-Wan's Force-induced fugue and he snapped his
head up, feeling his face flush and his eyes widen as he looked
about his classroom and realized that his students were all
gone.
"Master Jer-Dae." Feeling the stiffness of muscles that had
held position too long, he stretched carefully, trying to be
discrete, and spoke quietly, not letting the panic that
threatened take over.
Wisely he said nothing more. A glance at the windows showed
long shadows, meaning that he'd been lost inside himself for
several hours at least.
The last thing he remembered was setting his class to working a
series of equations and that hadn't been long after lunch.
"Your students have left for the day." Jer-Dae approached him.
Slowed by age, his features were as sharp as his tongue, which
Obi-Wan remembered well from his own early days here.
"I must ask that you be re-assigned, Knight Kenobi. Your
continuing distraction is harmful to the children. What are
they to learn from a Jedi who cannot control himself? I don't
know what the Council was thinking when they assigned you this
position, you never had the attention span that a Jedi
requires. Too easily bored, you are. An eternal adolescent."
Although he had expected something like this, Obi-Wan was still
stung by the words and the lack of compassion that allowed
them.
"My master is dead," he snarled, rising with a wince as
his body protested. "Your petty jealousies aside, I cannot
believe you would belittle my loss." It was a tremendous effort
to keep his voice even and low; all he wanted to do was scream
at the man.
Scream at the world.
At the galaxy.
Or just simply scream.
The desire to scream senselessly at the top of his lungs was
new. He catalogued it as dispassionately as he could, still
fighting for control, but distracted from his anger.
It was almost as if he could feel another's mind touching his
own, urging him to calm, offering him strength. Strength that
mind did not have to spare. But the only other mind that had
ever touched his had been Qui-Gon Jinn's...
"KENOBI!"
The affronted bellow from Master Jer-Dae brought him back to
the present again.
"What?"
He blinked, aware that he had drifted again, but unable to see
that it merited the anger and, yes, worry, he saw on the
elderly man's face. A hand closed on his arm, more gently than
he'd expected, and gave him a shake.
"I should call the Healers," Jer-Dae said, quieter now. More
thoughtful. "You were not prepared for the loss of your Master
and I can see that it has affected you deeply."
"How do you prepare to have your heart ripped out?" Snapping
the words, Obi-Wan stepped out of that grasp, pulling his cloak
tightly around himself.
The cold inside him refused to be banished by layers of cloth
and he had no warm thoughts to think.
If starlight was cold, his soul was colder.
"Reassign me. I am not prepared to teach right now." He managed
to get the words out without choking on them. "Do not concern
yourself. I will go to my quarters and meditate."
It was difficult to walk straight, to stand tall, but he pulled
himself together and did it, telling himself that if he didn't
Master Jer-Dae would take him to the Healers no matter how he
protested; he would lose even this hallucinatory feel of his
Master, and he could not bear that.
It didn't matter if it were real. All that mattered was that he
felt it.
And he would do everything in his power to continue feeling it.
If this be madness, let me be mad, he thought sluggishly,
walking the corridors to his quarters, aware of the glances,
curious and concerned both, that he was receiving from the Jedi
he passed.
Once inside he felt immeasurably better, and made his way -
staggering, stumbling, stripping his outer clothes as he went -
to his Master's bed.
Where acceptance failed, denial would serve.
Falling onto it, flat on his face, he tried for a moment to
breathe through the thick coverlet his nose was mashed
into, but had to give in and turn his head to the side.
This turned his eyes toward the window and he half-opened them,
uncaring, and stared into the brightness of a Coruscant night,
lights that hid the stars.
He stared until he felt that touch again, and his mind reached
for it, grasped, and tugged, pulling desperately, needing it to
be real.
He needed Qui-Gon, needed to feel him in his head.
Instead the touch conspired with his exhausted, underfed body
and he slipped into deep sleep, to be taunted by dream-images
of Qui-Gon, who alternately condemned and rejected him.
"I offered you my love, my heart, and you wasted yourself on
women like Apina! Your purity, your innocence, those were for
me, Padawan. For me. How can I love you now that they
are gone? You're tainted, fouled by loveless sex and casual
relationships.
"You believed what they told you?! You believed the
Council and ignored what your heart knew?! As long as you
believe, I am truly dead!"
With a startled jerk Obi-Wan pulled himself from sleep. The
vision of Qui-Gon, looming over him, sneering down at him, held
him pinned to the bed for long moments as his chest worked,
lungs inflating desperately.
There would be no rest tonight.
Flinging himself upwards, he stumbled and fell when his feet
hit the floor. He landed badly, catching himself on his hands
and elbows, biting back a gasp at the sharp pain.
A knee cracked sharply against the night table.
Gathering himself, reaching to the Force, which responded
sluggishly to his call, he got himself upright and then had the
courage to take a step.
It worked, so he took another.
One foot in front of the other...
Thinking nothing at all, knowing that he had to follow this
call or die trying, risking losing his very mind if he did not,
Obi-Wan left his quarters and began walking through the Temple.
Aimlessly, seemingly without purpose.
But his heart, and his mind, followed a call that was too weak,
too soft, whispered in his cells, for anyone else to hear.
"Master Jinn, you must rest." Aribl was pale. His mouth and
eyes were clenched in pain as he held his patient's hand.
Qui-Gon could feel the pain leave him while strength trickled
in. "You must let me give you medication so you can rest."
He shook his head. "I will not, young nurse. My health, my
life, are my only bargaining chips. I will see Obi-Wan. I
must."
"And if you do not? Will you die because of your stubbornness?
Will you let the lie become the truth?" Aribl wrenched his hand
away for a moment, and the pain and weakness came rushing back,
forcing Qui-Gon to collapse further on his pillows. "This is
what you would feel if I let you alone. You would not heal, you
would just weaken until you die and allow the Dark Side to
win." There was true anger in the young man's voice.
"They will not risk losing me. Need...me." Qui-Gon could not
speak above a whisper as he fought against his own body, as he
used what he had to call Obi-Wan to him. "Kept me...alive."
Aribl took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. Qui-Gon
could sense him reaching out to the Force. Then the nurse took
his hand again, and he could do more than exist.
"Where do you get your strength, young Aribl?"
"Je-Sma, my lover, is lending me his now. My own...will recover
with sleep and food. As would yours, Master Jinn. I cannot be
with you at all times. I will find a way to bring Obi-Wan
Kenobi to you if you do as you must."
"I will not have you risk your future - or the health of
Je-Sma. I will...survive. Let me be, and they will bring my
Padawan."
Aribl managed a smile. "I am an empath. This is what I need to
do. Je-Sma understands. But he, too, wishes you would have a
care for your health." He sat back with a jerk. "He is here. He
hears your call. He, also, is in pain." Aribl's face became
pure white. "I can feel him twice - both as him and through
your bond."
"Bond? Our bond is broken. Aribl, please, let go. You are about
to faint." The young man was sweating and breathing heavily.
Instead of letting go, Aribl seemed to reach further inside
himself. Qui-Gon realized he was drawing even more from his
lover. "Master Jinn, you have a bond. It is new yet and
fragile, but it is a true bond, such as Je-Sma and I share. A
bond between lovers." He gasped. "He comes. If I see him, I
will have to report him. I'm sorry, Master Jinn. I must leave."
He released the contact and ran out of the room.
Bond? What was the boy talking about? Qui-Gon steeled himself
against the return of his pain. Dimly, he was aware that he
would die again soon and that it might be too late to stop it
even now, but he pushed that, too, to the back of his mind.
Instead, he probed delicately for the new bond Aribl claimed
was there, and he found it.
It was barely a thread. He carefully sent a thought across that
fragile, silvery bridge and there he found Obi-Wan. The pain in
his...bondmate's soul was greater even than that in his own
body. He nearly recoiled back into his own mind.
This should not be. It took the will of both to make a
lovebond, and he would never forget that cold starry night when
he learned that Obi-Wan would never feel as he did. How could
he have forced this on him? Did his desperate cries create this
travesty? Yet he could not bring himself to break it, even if
he had the strength. He did all that he could...he retreated
back to his own mind and lost himself in his pain.
Hesitating in an intersection, turning once again,
indecisively, Obi-Wan cringed when the call in his head
suddenly became somehow stronger.
For a moment it was powerful, rushing through him, with the
unmistakable signature of his Master's presence, and he keened
softly, clutching his head with both hands and staggering.
Somehow he did not fall.
Then it faded again, only now it was even softer, so faint and
far away that he had to strain to touch it.
Obi-Wan was afraid. Had it all been a dream? A sense-memory of
his Master, fueled by loss and guilt and anger?
Or had the older man been trying to contact him from beyond the
Force, and finally given up when his Padawan did not respond
strongly enough?
"Oh please...." He whispered to the air, pleading with no one
and anyone. "Please. I must find him."
After a few more moments he could breathe again, but he did so
tentatively, afraid that the very sound would distract him from
the faintest flickering of the call that he now felt. He would
follow it, to the shores of the Coruscant Sea if he had to.
There was no way to tell what he would find at the end of it,
but he had to answer that call - whether it seemed to want him
to or not.
He moved through the gathering shadows; the lights here only
half-lit, many burned out altogether. This was not a section of
the Temple used frequently.
If he was going to find his Master - he clung to the belief
that his Master was calling to him, from his deathbed or the
grave - he would go anywhere, and do anything.
Unaware of the passage of time, he realized, belatedly, that he
was being led out of the bowels of the Temple. Climbing
yet one more set of wide stone steps, at this level slightly
moistened with damp, he surfaced in a hall he recognized, the
quiet sounds of the Healers and the hospital momentarily
distracting him from the connection. Startled, he snatched at
it desperately, and wondered when it seemed to pull away again.
So many things I wanted to tell you...only I didn't know I
wanted to.
The thought made his head hurt worse and he was reminded of the
other, more probable explanation for his recent behavior.
He was going slowly insane.
The tiny tremble of connection shivered and then expanded in
his mind, and he felt the welcome, and the pain that filled it.
It was easy, now, to turn toward that and walk down a hall,
take a left, walk down another hall, ignored by the two young
Healer apprentices that saw him, and turn again, coming to a
stop in front of an ordinary door.
The welcome swelled and he opened it, stepping into the room
with his eyes closed, truly afraid that the room would be
empty, unable to bear the thought...
The door swung shut behind him, automatically, and he held his
breath.
Try as he might, Qui-Gon could not ignore the pain of one he
loved so much. He had to touch that bond and let Obi-Wan know
he was still alive, to guide him to his room. He knew he'd be
sending his own pain with the message, but it couldn't be
helped.
He could feel Obi-Wan approaching. Closer now. I'm here, my
Padawan. Yes, that is the door. Open it. Let me see you.
Yes!
The door opened. There he was, his eyes closed, breathing hard.
Qui-Gon, weak beyond anything he'd felt before, just lay there
waiting.
The young man's eyes opened. "Master? Is it really you?" He
rushed to the bed and grasped Qui-Gon's hands.
"Yes. It is I."
"They told me you were dead." Obi-Wan sounded like he was
choking back sobs. He was pale, and far too thin, with dark
circles under his eyes.
"I seem to have recovered." He tried and failed to speak above
a whisper. "What of you, my pad...you are not my Padawan any
longer..." He looked at the place where Obi-Wan's braid used to
be.
"You will always be my teacher, my Master. Why did they lie to
me? Why didn't you send word? I thought...I thought I was going
insane!"
Qui-Gon barely felt the additional pain as Obi-Wan gripped his
hands. "I had to do it. I had no choice. I am sorry."
"Sorry for what, Master? It is all worth it now, now that I
know you are alive...every dream, every night...all of it."
"You don't know?" Qui-Gon sighed. "Look into your mind. Is
there something new there?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "Something...yes. A thread of Force,
like our old bond but thinner and in a different place."
Qui-Gon felt the touch of Obi-Wan's mind. "You are on the other
side. I don't understand, Master."
"It is my doing. When I called you, I must have forged a new
bond - the bond I wished for years ago. I know you do not
welcome such a bond...we can...we can break it now." A fresh
surge of soul pain caused him to gasp. To his shock, not all of
the pain was his.
"Master? Then you do not forgive me?"
"Forgive you? What have you done to need forgiveness?"
Why was Obi-Wan so close to tears?
"All those women...Apina...I knew how you felt, yet I not only
rejected you, I flaunted my loves in front of you. I'm sorry. I
was wrong to hurt you like that. I was wrong to reject you...I
love you, Qui-Gon Jinn." His eye grew wide and he sat down on
Aribl's chair abruptly.
Qui-Gon's heart leaped, and then fell again. "You thought I was
gone. You watched my body burn. That is all. And now you feel
relief. It is not love. As for your loves...it made me happy to
see you happy. You never picked anyone unworthy - Apina is a
fine Jedi. There was nothing to forgive."
"No. Master...Qui-Gon...you have a bridge to my heart. It has
grown sturdier as we speak. Use it, see what I truly feel."
He probed the site. Yes. It was stronger - a braid instead of a
thread. He touched Obi-Wan's mind and was overwhelmed by all
the emotions there, emotions a Jedi should control but Obi-Wan
wasn't controlling them. There was fear and anger, and guilt
and pain, but above all there was love, and that love was not
only directed at him but it echoed his own. Obi-Wan did love
him, and in the way Qui-Gon had tried to make himself not
desire.
"Master, all the time I thought you were...you were dead, I
kept thinking about you. I left Apina's bed because it was
wrong, because while I loved her, it was not the way I should
have. And you were gone and I couldn't tell you this, tell you
that I'd been lying to myself all these years. You were gone,
and I was alone and I'd would always be alone." He swallowed
and made himself sit upright.
"Obi-Wan?"
"I'm sorry, Master. Forgive me. This is unseemly, unbefitting a
Jedi."
Somehow, Qui-Gon found the strength to reach out his hand to
touch the other man's face. "It is only the truth of how you
feel. It is far more seemly than the council's outright lies."
Obi-Wan touched the hand on his face gently and then began to
stroke it. "Even this small touch feels so right...We will
confront the council. Tell them they are wrong." He continued
to stroke his Master's hand. "If only you were well, I would
show you just how much I love you." He smiled. "I can't seem to
concentrate on anything else. I'm sorry."
"No more apologies. I will strive to become well now, so that
you may show me." Qui-Gon smiled. "Already I feel stronger." He
blinked. "I cannot do this. You are weak from lack of sleep. I
cannot take your strength."
"You can take anything. My love. All I am is yours." He
tightened his grip. Qui-Gon could not take it away. "But you
are tired. And you must sleep. I will come here again."
Hesitantly, he bent. Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's lips lightly brush
his face. "Get well, my love."
Obi-Wan left the room. Qui-Gon felt himself begin to drift off
to sleep naturally for the first time in days. As he did, he
felt a soothing presence enter, and gentle hands brush his
forehead. The last thing he heard before he drifted off was
Aribl's rich voice telling him to have sweet dreams.
"Hey! Padawan Kenobi! The Council is -!"
The shouted warning of the Jedi Knight stationed at the main
door of the Council Chamber was oddly neutral in its
inflection, despite the irregularity of the interruption.
With his robes flowing, the air around him crackling with
barely suppressed energy, the angry young man threw a glance
over his shoulder and replied flatly even as he pushed open the
big door."I am no longer a Padawan," He told the Jedi, whose
name he did not at this moment recall. Inside the door, every
eye turned upon him, a circle of Knights and masters in the
center making their reports and the Council itself staring, and
he finished the sentiment loudly enough to be heard by all."And
I am no longer subject to your every whim!"
Striding to the center of the Chamber, head held high, anger
firmly in check, he scarcely noticed the way the others fell
away before him, making way.
"You have not been summoned." Eeth Koth, who had been directing
the questioning of those present, spoke mildly, but there was
no doubting his displeasure, or that of the others. Mace
Windu's face was set in a forbidding dark mask.
Qui-Gon had always told Obi-Wan that he, and they, had an ally
in the slum-born master, who had become a Jedi by the barest of
margins.
There was nothing of encouragement on his face at this moment.
Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan forced his voice to remain even
and his heart to beat steadily.
"I have been lied to, Master Koth. I have been hurt and left to
suffer. Would you have me make an appointment to discuss this?"
"Found him, you have." Master Yoda thumped his cane once, and
the sound was dismal. "Foresee this I did not."
"You are a knight now, Obi-Wan Kenobi." Windu spoke slowly,
every word meant to lend weight to the next, making it clear
that that title, which Obi-Wan had worked for so long and hard,
might be at risk if he continued. "Your one-time Master is no
longer your concern."
"Go back to the Dark Side!" The words were snapped with utter
contempt, and not even the Jedi Council members could quell a
visceral response to this childhood taunt. Windu flung his head
up, nostrils flaring, clearly fighting the urge to respond in
kind.
"I was misled and left to suffer, and why? My Master suffers,
and why?!" Unable to prevent the rise of his voice,
Obi-Wan cut himself off and took a deep breath, staring at the
floor momentarily.
In the silence of the Chamber, a room that oozed power, he
heard the faint whisperings of cloth and boots as the others
made their way toward the door, to escape this shameful scene.
"Young, are you." Yoda's frustration filled the air, as
powerful as anything else in the room. "To know, you did not
need."
Following the dictates of the Force without thought, Obi-Wan
dropped to his knees where he stood.
His voice quavered with suppressed emotion and closely-help
pain.
"I need."
The silence swelled.
With his hands limp at his sides, his head bowed, completely
submissive, Obi-Wan reached for the new bond, and opened it
wide.
Someone - he couldn't quite tell who, but it sounded like
Master Depa Billaba, the most recently joined Council member -
gasped softly, and Obi-Wan let her feel the bond, which grew in
strength as each moment passed, feel the love and trust that
composed it.
And the pain that had so nearly strangled it.
"We did not know, Kenobi." Adi Gallia sought to comfort him.
"There was no sign of a bond."
"The young healer said something." Windu steepled his fingers
in front of his face, unhappiness deepening.
"Broken, the bond was," Yoda snapped. "Exist then, this bond
did not."
"Because I denied it once, a long time ago."
Obi-Wan's whisper was loud, echoing sibilantly off the plasteel
and tile."I was young, and foolish, and I denied my heart."
"And your Master kept his own counsel, as is his habit."
Sounding irritated, as he often did when Qui-Gon was the topic,
Mace left the sentence hanging in the air.
"What was he supposed to do, inform us?" Not recognizing the
wavering voice, Obi-Wan tilted his head just enough to get a
glimpse of whoever spoke so disrespectfully to Master Windu.
With his extended neck crooked, Master Yarael of Quermia seemed
to be scolding Windu, but Obi-Wan did not dare risk looking to
see the other Master's response.
"I have no doubt that he approached his Padawan as the Code
dictates, and that he accepted the rejection honorably."
"Accept, he did. Too well." Again Yoda sounded exasperated, but
fondly so. "So well he hid it, see it we did not. Separate
them, we would not have."
Shifting on his knees, Obi-Wan felt a sudden restlessness seep
through him. The source was murky and he did not want to be
rude to the Council by going deeper into himself to search for
it, though it nagged at him...
"They are bonded." Billaba spoke up firmly. "The
separation cannot be continued."
"Our plans for Master Jinn cannot be delayed," the military
strategist Oppo Rancisis objected. "This opportunity will not
present itself again."
The restless feeling intensified and Obi-Wan found himself
half-rising, unaware of the action until it was almost
completed, casting out with his mind for the source, which
suddenly seemed urgent.
"A battle cannot be won by a dead soldier," the one-eyed Even
Piell argued, but Obi-Wan barely heard the words. The wide-open
bond was shrinking, contractng, fading from his grasp, and he
lurched to his feet, reaching for it with desperation, his body
mimicking his mind, knowing that his mate was in danger, that
he was weakening...
"Master!" He shouted, startling the Council members.
"Kenobi, restrain yourself!" Windu snapped, and would have
continued, but was interrupted as the door to the Council
Chamber was unceremoniously shoved open for a second time, and
the Healer Aribl stumbled in, looking drawn and pale, hair
clammy with sweat.
"Qui-Gon Jinn is dying!"
Windu looked stricken. "Are you positive, Healer Aribl?"
"Of course I am. I am a Healer and an Empath. Look at Obi-Wan -
he seeks to be with his mate."
Obi-Wan could hear nothing after the word "dying." Unable to
leave, he collapsed on the floor. He felt Aribl's arms around
him. "Soon, Obi-Wan, soon."
"We need him alive."Windu's voice was almost pleading.
"After you kill by keeping his bondmate away?" The remaining
council members gasped at the nurse's audacity. "I can help
them. I can help them both. But it must be now. And I need your
help." He lowered his voice. "Obi-Wan, I will need you most of
all."
Obi-Wan nodded and tried to stand, but his legs would not hold
him. "I'm sorry, Aribl..."
"It's all right, Obi-Wan." Somehow that gentle hand calmed him
again. Then Aribl turned to the council again. "Master
Windu..."
Next thing Obi-Wan knew, he was lifted in a pair of strong
arms, with no more effort than if he'd been a child in truth.
He struggled briefly, but another touch from Aribl allowed him
to subside. "Where shall I take him, young healer?"
"We must go to Master Jinn's room now." Aribl paused
briefly. "I have summoned my own bondmate. He will wait for us
there."
It didn't take long for them to reach the Temple and then
Qui-Gon's room. Obi-Wan recalled almost nothing of the trip.
All of his thoughts revolved around his Master and the bond
between them. Once they arrived, he felt another pair of strong
arms take him and settle him on the bed.
Qui-Gon lay beside him, his eyes closed and his face pale. When
Obi-Wan tried to reach him in his mind, all he felt was pain
and weakness and a sense he could only call "leave-taking."
"Qui-Gon, no! Not when I just found you!" He barely realized
he'd spoken the words aloud. Lacking the strength to do more,
he rolled to his side and held his Master's arm to his body.
He heard Aribl only dimly. "Master Windu, you may remain here,
but you must not interfere with anything we do. This is Master
Jinn's only chance."
"I do not understand, young healer, but please, do what you
must to save Qui-Gon. I will remain." There was a note in
Master Windu's voice that Obi-Wan had never heard before, but
he could not think about it now.
Then Aribl was touching him again. "This is good, Obi-Wan. I
want you to open yourself as much as you can to Master Jinn and
also open yourself to the Force." Concentrating, Obi-Wan did as
he was asked. He was aware of the fifth man in the room, who
had to be Je-Sma, Aribl's bondmate, doing the same.
Aribl's physical touch disappeared. Obi-Wan felt something
immensely powerful and yet somehow gentle contact him. It asked
him to draw power and channel it through his bond to Qui-Gon.
This he did and gladly, keeping none for himself. The draw
became more and more powerful and he was hard put to keep
up...and then for a moment it faltered.
For that moment, Obi-Wan despaired. Then a new mind joined them
- one strong but familiar. There was more power now. He could
feel it being used, he could now sense Aribl's efforts to take
care of both the body and the soul of his patient.
And then he felt it change - all the pain and confusion was
suddenly gone and Qui-Gon was no longer trying to say
good-bye. In fact, he was pouring love and happiness down the
bond. And at that moment, he felt a surge of strength and then
the power draw stopped abruptly.
Something...somebody...fell to the ground. He opened the eyes
he didn't remember closing in time to see Je-Sma scoop an
unconscious Aribl up from the floor and cradle him in his arms.
Obi-Wan jumped from the bed, as did, to his surprise, Qui-Gon.
Je-Sma nodded gratefully and put his bondmate in their places.
He sat beside him on the bed and stroked the young man's face,
oblivious to all else.
Master Windu looked at the pair on the bed with awe. "He Healed
you, Qui-Gon. I have never seen the like. He used the Force and
his own energy to bring you back from near-death. I was there,
in the circuit. I felt him use everything he had. And
what little remained when you were Healed he gave to Obi-Wan."
His voice was very quiet.
Qui-Gon seemed to be examining himself. "I feel as if I had
never been injured. I, too, have never seen anything similar.
He is a loss to the Jedi. He would have been the best of
knights."
Je-Sma looked up. "No. My bondmate's ability is only to Heal.
To use it for anything else would be to destroy it and him."
And me. All heard those unspoken words.
"Will he recover, Jedi Je-Sma?"
"Yes, Master Jinn. He just needs to rest for a few days. As, I
think, do you. You may feel strong and well, but your body
needs to adjust to health again."
"You've done this before, young Jedi?"
"He has, but never to this degree. I can only help."
"Let us leave these two alone, then. I will find both of you
quarters away from prying eyes. We must still preserve your
secret, Qui-Gon. And you both must complete your bond. And
Master Jinn must rest." He removed his robe and gave it to
Qui-Gon, who drew it on over his short gown and used the hood
to shadow his face. Shyly, Obi-Wan took his Master's hand as
Windu spoke briefly into his communicator.
Windu put his communit away and led them out of the hall to a
part of the Temple Obi-Wan had never seen before.
It took some time, which worried Obi-Wan. And there were other
urges rising to the surface. He needed to be alone with
Qui-Gon. Finally, there was a room door open ahead. A figure
scurried away at their approach. Master Windu gestured for them
to enter.
The room was beautiful. It was lined with bright draperies and
filled with comfortable furniture and art. There was a large
meal set up on a table, under a stasis field, and beside it was
a huge bed covered in pillows and brocades. There were windows,
too, looking onto a starry night sky.
"Thank you, Mace. It is you who are responsible?" Qui-Gon
sounded happy.
"Yes. You deserve this. You both do."
"Windows, Master? Is that safe?"
"They are projections, but of our own skies. A First Night
deserves stars. Be happy, and may the Force be with your
bonding."
He bestowed one last smile and left them alone.
Unable to help himself, Obi-Wan stared at the door as it closed
behind the Jedi Master.
"Obi?"
Standing very still, Qui-Gon seemed to be drawing into himself,
regaining his famed reserve, and the younger man frowned as he
looked over his shoulder and noted it.
"I'm sorry, Master, but I admit to being confused. I have
always been under the impression that Master Windu does not
approve of you."
A low chuckle drew his complete attention from the door and he
turned, smoothly, reaching a hand to Qui-Gon, only to have it
caught gently, lifted to warm lips and nuzzled.
"Mace was my dearest friend for many years and he has yet to
forgive me for choosing my own path. Our friendship perseveres,
though not in a form everyone recognizes."
With the softness of his Master's lips moving over his skin as
the older man spoke, Obi-Wan just barely registered the words.
"Master..." With an audible swallow he stopped himself and
chose another name to use. "Qui..." The single syllable fell so
easily from his lips that he marveled he had not said it
before. Of course the other man felt this through the wide-open
bond and was amused by it. Then Obi-Wan was drawn close to a
broad, heavy chest, and held there with all the strength of
love.
"It goes well, Obi, as we do. We have no need of titles or
endearments."
"No word could say what I'm feeling right now." He agreed,
tilting his head back and looking up, seeing that Qui-Gon was
literally glowing with the Force that flowed through them both.
He wondered if he looked the same.
"Indeed you do." Both large hands framed his face as the stare
was returned. "Together we rival the stars."
The first kiss was sweetness embodied, which slid quickly into
aching hunger.
As soon as his Master's heart started beating double-time
Obi-Wan pulled away slightly, with a frown that was softened by
his swollen mouth, testing the bond as he spoke.
"You should rest. You are only newly healed."
"Rest is not at the top of my priority list, Obi."
Roughly-but-gently he was manhandled to the big bed, which was
dressed with fluffy blankets and linens in several shades of
green and blue, softly streaked color and thick comfort.
Once he had Obi-Wan flat on his back he lowered himself over
the younger man, on his elbows to prevent squashing him, and
they resumed kissing.
After several minutes Obi-Wan was gasping, but enjoying the
lightheaded feeling, and the weight of his Master above him,
and the hot rod of flesh that was pressing so suggestively into
his belly.
"Clothes," He said firmly when they broke to breathe, and
Qui-Gon seemed to agree, using both of his hands and the Force
to strip himself while Obi-Wan did the same. Then they were
naked, their bare skin pressed together, and he moaned
helplessly, hands traveling eagerly, wantonly, wanting to touch
and feel all of Qui-Gon, thrilled and excited by what he found.
Their cocks pressed together when his Master shifted higher to
hold his head for plundering, and he bucked up, wanting more,
hands scrabbling over broad, muscular shoulders.
"Obi, Obi, Obi..." Qui-Gon chanted between kisses, breathed
into his ear. "Perfect Obi."
"Not," the younger man gasped, struggling to keep up. His
Master seemed to have gained a world of experience in the past
few days, experience he had never suspected."Not perfect..."
For as long as he had known him, Qui-Gon had been strictly
celibate, as far as Obi-Wan knew. When he was younger there had
been a few brief discussions on responsibility and the care and
keeping of a lover, but he had never known his Master to act on
that advice.
"Perfect for me." Pushing himself up, Qui-Gon gazed down at him
with an expression that could only be described as sappy. "And
that makes you perfect."
"Master..." Sighing, Obi-Wan shelved the argument. "You're
going to tire yourself out."
"What do you want?" The question was purred with dark intensity
and Obi realized he was being distracted from his worry. "Tell
me what you have done, what gives you pleasure." The steady
rocking motion of the narrow hips into his made answering
almost impossible.
"Ungh..." Thoughts tumbled unregulated and he snatched one at
random. "Nothing, Qui. Nothing with another male."
It was the truth but only now, in these circumstances, did he
find the will to question this decision he did not remember
making.
Had he avoided male lovers because he had not wished to hurt
his Master further?
"Because you wanted -" Qui-Gon moaned and reached for him,
wrapping strong arms around him using his size and leverage to
roll them over until Obi-Wan was on top.
"Because you wanted me to be the first!" He exulted, the truth
laid bare in Obi's teeming mind.
"Yes." Realizing it, accepting it, Obi-Wan felt the urge to
sing, or scream. Of course! "YES!"
Then reality intruded and he slowed their movements, Qui-Gon
allowing him to do so reluctantly, and looked down at his
lover, kissing him tenderly, scattering touches over his
weathered face. "But not at your expense," He whispered,
serious now. "I would not weaken you further."
"The only way you could hurt me at this moment would be to deny
me." Closing his eyes briefly to feel that tenderness, Qui-Gon
opened his eyes and they shone hot with desire. "I will not
hurt you, Obi."
"I know that." With a welcoming smile and saucy wiggle, Obi-Wan
pushed himself up to his knees until he straddled his Master.
"This will be easier on you."
Sitting carefully, he felt the heat of Qui-Gon's erection press
into his crease and shuddered, moving against it.
"This way." His master's hands slipped between them and a
single long finger explored that private place. Obi-Wan leaned
back, lifting his hips, eager, asking for that intrusion.
"Gently, gently," Qui-Gon murmured, speaking perhaps to
himself. With a touch of the Force sheathing it, the first
finger slipped into Obi-Wan up to the knuckle and his shivers
increased, the sensation delighting and filling a need he
hadn't known he had. So careful was his Master that he felt no
pain at all, only the depth of their connection echoed inside
of him.
And he yearned for more.
"Please..." Panting, he rocked, taking the finger deeper. In
answer to the almost-silent plea Qui-Gon used his other hand to
stroke and tease the erection that stood out proudly from
Obi-Wan's body, begging for that touch.
"Slowly, Obi, slowly." With more care than Obi-Wan perhaps
wanted at that moment, the finger was pushed deeper, and he
felt his body open to welcome it, to welcome any part of his
Master that cared to join him. This led to a second finger and
a hot rush of liquid fire to his groin and deep-chested,
throaty moans that tore themselves free of his waning control.
Forcing his eyes to open at least halfway, he stared down at
his Master, his lover, and the fire blossomed into something
more, something too powerful to be contained. It made him ache
deep inside, a pain that did not hurt. It only wanted. And
wanted. And wanted...
"You."
The word spilled from him on another groan, this one
threatening to take his soul with it. "Please, Qui, you." Even
begging had an attraction; it made Qui-Gon's nostrils flare and
his heart thump and his body twitch, all which made Obi-Wan
want him more. "Please, you," He repeated shamelessly.
"One more." Abandoning his fiery cock, Qui-Gon used his free
hand to spread the cheeks of Obi-Wan's ass wider, working a
third finger in, generously coated with nothing more than the
Force, and where had he learned to use it like that?
"Ready..." Rising on his knees, tilting his hips back wantonly
to give access, Obi-Wan clutched at the chest beneath him,
watching his sweat drip onto the smooth skin there.
He wanted to lick it off.
"Just -" Qui-Gon caught his breath and moaned as Obi-Wan did
just that, laving a hard nipple and closing his mouth over the
area to suck fiercely.
"Just breathe when I tell you," He managed to blurt out.
Nodding, Obi didn't protest as he was carefully arranged,
sitting up straight on his knees, pelvis thrown forward with a
gentle tug on his hips, both of Qui-Gon's hands on his ass,
spreading him wide. The heat of Qui-Gon's cock pressing against
his newly-awakened entry.
They froze, neither moving, and then his hands tightened on
Obi-Wan's hips and his words flowed over him like love.
"Exhale, slowly..."
As Obi-Wan breathed out, trusting implicitly in his Master's
knowledge, the first few inches of that cock sank painlessly
into him and he shuddered, impaled, feeling the older man
fighting for control beneath him. All he wanted was one look,
one visual taste, but when his eyes opened he couldn't close
them again, the sight was too splendid to look away from.
"Breathe..." Qui-Gon sighed, meeting his eyes. It was all
there, in his eyes, in the bond between them, in his own eyes,
Obi-Wan knew. And he breathed, and let the air whoosh out of
him slowly, needing no prompting this time, and his Master
entered him further.
"Yes." With a sigh, Obi-Wan repeated the pattern, and at last
sank to his knees, bottom pressed firmly to Qui-Gon's loins,
and the circuit was completed.
"Good?" Qui-Gon asked, hands roaming his body, caressing and
stroking, finding all the little places that made him shudder
harder as if he'd always known them.
"Perfect." With a smile that couldn't last in the face of such
powerful pleasure, Obi-Wan moved. Rocked his hips, forward and
back, and moaned at the sensation.
"Try this." The hands were back on his hips, urging him up, and
he went reluctantly, not wanting to release the cock inside
him, but then the hands were pulling him back down and it
pushed back into him and he had to smother a scream by stuffing
a fist into his mouth, shocked by the very urge.
He never screamed in bed.
"You do now." A quick, desperate chuckle, and then those hands
were urging again, directing, teaching, and Qui-Gon's hips were
lifting to meet the downward thrust and Obi-Wan was
full, his body was completely, utterly filled and
nothing had ever felt like this before.
"Perfect," Qui-Gon muttered thickly, bending his knees,
bringing his legs up for leverage, thrusting harder.
"Yes!" Obi-Wan moaned, giving in to the rhythm, letting it
dictate his movements, and his body knew what to do. Taught by
a Master.
The strokes were becoming regular, ending somewhere so deep
inside him he didn't want to think about it, touching something
that made him feel just unbelievably needy, and then Qui-Gon
increased the pleasure by moving a hand to his cock and
grasping it tightly, using just the right amount of pressure
and there was no way a fist was going to stop this one.
Hanging his head back, totally loose, Obi-Wan screamed at the
top of his lungs, riding his Master home.
At the peak of the wail his body betrayed him by clenching and
then jerking helplessly, his seed rolling over Qui-Gon's hand
to drip on the sweaty stomach, and his Master made a
sound, an unreal sound, and Obi-Wan flipped his head
over and looked at him just in time to see the big body arch up
off the bed, head back, hands grasping, muscles springing tight
like cables.
The flush of new heat inside his own body was amazing and
erotic and....perfect.
The collapse was slow and mostly controlled, Qui-Gon reaching
for him and pulling him down so that he could slump on the
heaving chest and share the oxygen they were both trying to
breathe, the cock inside him softening and slipping free with
no fanfare, the relaxation of their bodies as welcome as the
tension had been.
"How..." The word was too thick to be understood; Obi-Wan
swallowed and tried to wet dry lips with an equally dry tongue,
found that there was another close by willing to help.
It was not worn from screaming and soon the words could leave
his mouth coherent.
"How do you feel?"
"Perfect." A purring chuckle accompanied another long kiss.
"How do I feel?"
"Like a star has fallen into my arms."
"In other words...." Shifting slighlty, Obi-Wan closed his eyes
and snuggled closer. "Perfect."
"Oh yes."
"And hungry." Lifting his head, Obi-Wan snickered as he made
the accusation, Qui-Gon's stomach breaking the peace with its
rumble.
"Well, that too." Tightening his hold, the older man seemed
unwilling to let him go.
"Well, I'm sleepy." Settling back into the embrace, Obi-Wan
seemed just as unwilling to leave.
"No," Qui-Gon corrected, their bond warning Obi-Wan a
split-second before he moved, swinging his legs off the bed,
lifting the smaller man in his arms and carrying him toward the
table where the food waited, protected by a stasis cover,
sitting them both in a single large armchair with a soft grunt.
"You're perfect."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth and laughed, happiness flooding the
bond. They ate together from communal plates, each helping
himself, and they watched the stars in the window, which were
none the less beautiful for being recorded, and somewhere in
that perfect time, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of passion
fruit he had stolen from under his Master's nose, Obi-Wan
realized that he could almost hear the flickering pop of a
campfire.
And the silent song of the stars.
the end.
like all fanfic writers, Mama Deb and Sa live for
feedback. it's the reason sa writes period. please repay our
hard work at:
saraid@wf.net or dfbaker@panix.com -- or better, both :)
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