Master Apprentice Archive Shadows and Light Quick search:

Shadows and Light

by Sheryl

Archive: M_A

Pairing: Q/O

Ratings: R

Categories: Angst, h/c, I suppose chan

Spoilers: JA series, especially #16

Warnings: mention of rape, some violence and an underage padawan (although I looked it up and legally, 16 is old enough to get hitched most everywhere)

Feedback: squad51-st@home.com

*Thanks again to Briony for all of her help!*

"Help me! Please!" The voice was barely audible over the roar of the fire. She was fading, growing weaker each moment and he could do nothing but watch.

Reaching out for the Force, he tried to gather it, use it to push back the fire, to save his friend, but the flames only continued to intensify. A portion of the ceiling came crashing down, scattering chunks of burning material in every direction; more flames shot down from above, they were running out of time.

Straining with all his might, he tried again to go to her, willing his legs to move, but still they remained motionless. They were surrounded now, with no visible way of escape and it was quite obvious that help was not coming.

There was nothing he could do but watch in horror as his lifelong friend struggled to draw breath into her lungs, he watched her ragged breathing grow shallow; her limbs cease their flailing, then finally still. Again, he tried to move forward, to go to her side if only to be with her at this moment, but he was unable to move, frozen in place, as if held by an immovable, indiscernible force field.

In his desperation, he tried to shout her name, but no sound came. This can't be happening, he attempted to convince himself, but a moment later, she slowly turned her head toward him and one last hiss of breath escaped. He was stricken, unable to help, unable to do anything of use, only to watch in horrified fascination as a strange colored fluid trickled out of the corner of her mouth.

Imploringly, he looked into her eyes, silently begging for her help, for her forgiveness -- for her to somehow understand his pathetic, unforgivable inaction, but her usually clear, silvery eyes, were now lifeless and clouded over, no longer able to see anything.

Why? He wanted to scream at this injustice, scream at the Force that allowed his friend to die before his very eyes without allowing him to intervene. He wanted to scream for his Master, scream at him for his abandonment, but Qui-Gon was not there, he was unreachable, gone somewhere far, far away.

Panic. He was losing control, his chest hurt and he knew that he needed to calm his breathing, calm his fear. The cold sweat rolling down his back and chest caused him to shiver in spite of the fact that his skin felt hot. He needed to get out of there, but he wasn't able to move, wasn't able to call for help. There was nobody to call anyway.

"Obi-Wan."

From somewhere far away he thought he heard a voice calling his name, a familiar voice -- the voice of his Master. Immediately, he crushed the tiny seed of hope before it could take root. A trick of the mind, he rationalized, knowing that he could not count on his Master this time. Qui-Gon was inaccessible, locked away, so deeply wrapped in grief and sorrow that he had nothing left for anyone else.

A sob escaped him at the thought of the huge expanse, the growing rift between he and his Master. From the moment they arrived on New Apsolon, Qui-Gon had been distancing himself, not wanting his Padawan's help or companionship.

Not wanting his Padawan.

Obi-Wan no longer had any hope of closing the distance, didn't even know where to begin. He supposed for a moment that it was quite possible his entire existence had all been some sort of cosmic joke, but quickly dismissed the egocentric notion.

The flames were very close now, living things that were licking at him, tasting him, waiting to devour him. Panic was beginning to overwhelm him, he took a deep breath, attempting to release his fear, but the heat from the fire was so intense it burned his lungs.

"Padawan! Open your eyes." A sharp command that Obi-Wan was too well-trained to ignore.

Dizzy, disoriented, he struggled against the force that pinned him. His Master was calling him; it wasn't his imagination. He needed to move!

"Open your eyes, Padawan. You're dreaming; it's only a dream."

The voice grew clearer and sharper until at last, reality began to melt away the dreamscape, enabling him to obey the command. Opening his eyes, he tried to focus on the large figure bent over him.

"Look at me, Padawan. Focus on me, on my breathing..."

Obi-Wan obeyed the familiar voice, struggling to control his breathing as he slowly became aware that the figure above him was that of his Master; the weight on his chest and forehead were his Master's hands. There was no fire, he finally realized. In spite of his aching chest and burning lungs, everything had been a dream.

"That's it, that's much better," Qui-Gon's voice was calm and soothing, "It was just a dream. I'm here. You're safe; nothing here can hurt you."

Suddenly, he felt childish and embarrassed. His Master had more than enough to deal with, he shouldn't have to waste his energy coddling Obi-Wan. "Master, I-I'm sorry to have -"

"Shhh...hush now. Just relax and keep breathing."

Obi-Wan acquiesced and felt a calming wave flow through his mind. Being cut off from his Master for so long, unable to connect through their bond had been almost unbearable. Closing his eyes, he nearly sobbed in relief as the presence washed over him, allowing him to forget, at least temporarily, all of their recent anguish. Feeling safe and loved, he slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Qui-Gon studied the young face of his Padawan in sleep, noting the dark smudges beneath his eyes, the lines of tension between his brows that did not fade in spite of the deep sleep into which he had forced the boy.

So young, he thought ruefully. Brushing his lips softly over his Padawan's, smoothing his hand over the spiky hair, trailing fingers down the braid, he remembered a scene from the not so distant past.

A physical combat session that had gotten a little too physical. Shameful for a Jedi Master to have so little control, but Obi-Wan was a beautiful young man. Beautiful in spirit, mind and body. He'd been declaring his love for Qui-Gon for years, already. And after their heated diversion had climaxed and they were once again somewhat in control of themselves, his apprentice had again declared his undying love and Qui-Gon had again gently explained that Jedi were not to seek love. The little scamp had actually snickered at him before responding with a dutiful "Yes, Master."

How he longed to see that mischievous spark in the boy's eye. It had been too long since they'd had a spare moment to relax; too long since he'd heard the boy's wry sarcasm or had the rare pleasure of seeing him laugh. Not since before the mission to New Apsolon -- before the death of Tahl.

New Apsolon, the mention of the name brought feelings of dread, of darkness. It was a place he would like to forget, but knew that he never would. The mission there had been extremely trying to say the least and after all of their efforts the outcome had not been favorable. Tahl was dead, just like his visions had shown.

For the life of him, he still couldn't figure out the purpose of the visions; they certainly hadn't been for warning. Even with his foreknowledge, the events had taken place exactly as they had in the visions. The useless foreknowledge had only disturbed and angered him, causing him to make mistakes and act irrationally.

And poor Obi-Wan had been beside himself trying to hold his old Master together. Qui-Gon was ashamed of his behavior, his actions and reactions had so adamantly went against everything he believed in, everything he'd ever taught the boy to hold sacred, everything sacred to a Jedi.

Now that he was home in the Temple, the person that he had been on New Apsolon seemed like a complete stranger. Never in his life had he been so out of focus, out of control. He needed to speak with the Council, confess everything -- no matter the cost. His only hope was that the process wouldn't cost his Padawan; Obi-Wan had paid enough already.

Sighing, he straightened the blanket on Obi-Wan. Already he missed Tahl's presence. His friend would have been a major supporter of him where the Council was concerned; but it was more than that: not only that -- he could really use a little of her insight and wisdom right about now.

It was well after sunrise when Obi-Wan awoke, feeling a bit groggy. He was definitely not in any hurry to get out of bed and face the day. As he lay there, he remembered bits and pieces of the awful dream he'd had, remembered his Master being there, helping him. Automatically he reached for the bond, hoping to find Qui-Gon in a better state of mind.

He was slightly disappointed to find that his Master was shielding, but encouraged that, unlike before, he could at least feel his presence.

In the dream, he remembered watching helplessly as his friend Bant died before his eyes. He wondered what had brought the dream on. Was it Tahl's death? His Master had watched her die, unable to do anything. He'd been so worried about Qui-Gon and felt so badly about Tahl's death that his subconscious must have somehow twisted things. It had to be the reason. Obi-Wan wouldn't even allow the idea of prescience to take root in his mind.

Finally, he gave up on going back to sleep. There were too many unpleasant thoughts swirling about in his mind. He crawled out from under the covers and stretched, feeling the twinge in his overused muscles and headed for the refresher.

"You're not alone. Together we will speak with the Council and tell them of our experiences," Qui-Gon assured the young Jedi. "Don't worry yourself. It is better for us to admit and face our weaknesses and ask for assistance when we need."

"Thank you Master Qui-Gon. I've been very...afraid," she admitted reluctantly.

"Understandable, young Padawan. I've been unsettled since before leaving for New Apsolon and I am a Jedi Master. But, you must remember, one should never avoid dealing with emotions," he instructed. "We must acknowledge our fear, allow it to flow through us and then release it into the Force."

"Yes, Master. I'm so glad it happened to you too," she said with relief. Abruptly her eyes grew wide and her face turned a darker hue of pinkish-orange. "I-I mean...I didn't mean I was glad it happened to you...I meant-"

Qui-Gon couldn't help but grin at her horrified expression, actually feeling relieved as well. "Don't worry, I know what you mean. It's much less intimidating to go before the Council when you have an ally standing beside you."

Bant nodded shyly, still blushing furiously.

"Run along, get something to eat and I'll meet with you shortly."

Obi-Wan splashed cool water on his face, hoping to clear away the last remnants of a heavy sleep. As he toweled himself, he realized that he could hear his Master's voice from out in the main room. He sounded happy, which surprised Obi-Wan, he hadn't heard his Master laugh in what seemed like a very long time. Replacing the towel, he hurried through the rest of his morning routine, anxious to join Qui-Gon for their morning meal.

When he emerged from the 'fresher and walked into the corridor, he was surprised again, to see his friend Bant standing in the entryway, talking with Qui-Gon, who had a warm smile on his face. They both turned to glance at Obi-Wan, then Bant waved, turned and left their quarters.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon greeted, still smiling while he reached for his cloak. Any hopes that Obi-Wan had of the two of them spending the morning together were immediately quelled. "Master."

"I apologize Padawan, but I have several meetings lined up today, so it looks like you have the day to yourself," he said as he adjusted his garments.

"Yes, Master." The day to himself?

"Keep in mind that the funeral pyre," Qui-Gon cleared his throat, his warm expression turning inward, "will be held this evening. After my meetings, I plan to be in meditation until the ceremony. I suggest you spend some time in meditation as well, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, Master." He bowed, hoping that he was doing an adequate job of concealing the disappointment he felt.

Without another word, Qui-Gon left their quarters, his shields once again, tightly in place.

Qui-Gon stood before the Jedi Council, having finished his explanation of the events of the mission on New Apsolon, careful to include every detail. He'd described the unsettling visions that had plagued him, his inability to control his thoughts and emotions and the darkness that he had been certain would consume him.

To her credit, Bant stepped forward when summoned and bravely detailed her similar visions and tumultuous emotions, as well.

For long moments, the Council said nothing out loud, but it was fairly easy to deduce that they were speaking to each other on another level. Then Yoda closed his eyes and bowed his head, meditatively and all communication between the Council members ceased.

"Echoes we have heard," Yoda spoke up, breaking the reflective silence. "Untraceable disturbances in the Force. Still present they are, but no remnants we feel in you," his eyes moved slowly to rest on the girl, "or in you, young Bant."

Qui-Gon heard Bant let out a breath in relief. "Thank you, Master. Neither Bant, nor myself feel any of the unrest that we were previously experiencing."

"And what of young Obi-Wan?" Yoda asked.

"I've not detected anything but confusion and deep concern from Obi-Wan, along with his usual guilt over perceived errors, but that is always something he works out in time, " Qui-Gon explained. "I admit that I've been shielding more than I usually do, but I have been monitoring his emotional state."

"Be on your guard you must," Yoda counseled, his expression serenely thoughtful. "Elusive, this Darkness is."

"Yes, my Master." Qui-Gon bowed reverently.

"Report any specific disturbances you may feel, immediately," Mace Windu cautioned, keeping his tone calm. He turned to the young girl, looking at her with all seriousness. "Even if you're uncertain. It's best to be safe."

"Yes, Master Windu," she replied, also with a formal bow.

"Talk to young Obi-Wan we should soon. For now, prepare you both should," he nodded to Qui-Gon and then to Bant, "for the ceremony this evening."

"Yes, thank you Masters," Qui-Gon placed a hand on Bant's shoulder in a supportive gesture. He could tell the girl was trying very hard to keep her emotions in check, not wanting to show weakness in front of the Council.

"Difficult it will be to let go of Tahl," Yoda said with sympathy. "Already greatly missed she is."

Obi-Wan went through most of the day feeling strange, out-of-sorts and oddly detached. Even being in the familiar surroundings of the Temple, didn't seem to ease him. Every thought and every reminder of their lives before brought only feelings of sadness and loss. Depression seemed inescapable and he figured that he should probably attempt the meditation his Master had suggested, attempt to work through the events on New Apsolon.

A deep breath and he gazed at the lush greenery surrounding him, the clear pond and its miniature waterfall, the beautiful vibrantly colored flora. Another breath and he closed his eyes, keeping the image of the garden in his mind's eye. This was his favorite garden and his favorite spot. It reminded him of the rain forests on Cegalia II and of his Master.

How he missed his Master. Qui-Gon had been like a different person, driven by rage and the need for revenge - both traits that he had many times over warned Obi-Wan led only to darkness. His Master had shut him out and was still shutting him out, despite the fact that Tahl's murderer had been brought to justice. Obi-Wan had hoped that once they were home things would return to normal, but so far, his Master was keeping his distance.

He missed his Master's companionship and his strength.

And Bant, she had said that they were all right, but their conversations now seemed forced, unnatural and awkward. Apparently he'd set his expectations too high and it had taken him until now to realize that. She hadn't been unfriendly toward him, indeed she treated him courteously, but it was no different than she would a stranger and that's what Obi-Wan felt they were now -- strangers.

Maybe Bant didn't want to know him anymore. After all that had happened, he really couldn't blame her. In retrospect, if their situations had been reversed and Qui-Gon the one abducted and in danger while Bant and Tahl held the knowledge from Obi-Wan, he most definitely would have felt betrayed and it was doubtful that he'd be as forgiving as Bant.

'You cannot change what is past, Obi-Wan.' Echoes of his Master's voice rang through his mind. More times than he could count, Qui-Gon had advised him to not dwell on the past, he knew it was a useless endeavor, but right now, he couldn't seem to stop.

Could it be, he wondered -- ignoring the persistent voice in his head, that Qui-Gon also held him responsible in some way, for not finding Tahl in time? Obi-Wan had damaged his speeder, costing them several hours of needed time and then, he'd allowed the probe droid to be destroyed and gotten himself injured, who knows how much time was wasted because of his ineptitude. Even if his Master didn't hold him directly to blame, he blamed himself.

Feeling very much alone, however deservedly, he thought it ironic that the only person who he could possibly make this situation bearable, was dead now.

When Qui-Gon entered the garden, he could sense his Padawan nearby and was pleased that Obi-Wan had taken his advice. Good, he thought, sensing also the guilt and confusion. Work through these emotions and release them, my Padawan.

He guided Bant over to a small clearing surrounded by a variety of fragrant flowers and with a smile he motioned for her to kneel, then knelt alongside her.

He didn't want to disturb Obi-Wan, but in the back of his mind, he hoped the boy would sense his presence and perhaps decide to join them.

Images from the dream intruded on his meditation efforts, throwing him off balance. Heat from the flames threatening to engulf them. Bant, gasping for breath while Obi-Wan helplessly stood by, unable to move, or do anything useful.

Whenever an image would flash through his mind, disrupting him, Obi-Wan would breathe deeply and attempt to center again, but it was getting more difficult each time.

Then, an image he didn't remember from the dream crept into his consciousness and curious, Obi-Wan allowed it to play through. It was his Master, rushing gallantly through the flames, crouching to scoop Bant up in his arms; he felt hope rising as his Master stood and began scanning the room, looking for Obi-Wan. When he found his Padawans, instead of offering help, he frowned, shaking his head with disgust and then the image was gone.

Obi-Wan roughly wiped away the stray tear he felt rolling down his cheek. Meditation was not doing him any good, in fact if anything he felt worse. He was getting restless, unable to regain his center. Sighing heavily, he gave up and opened his eyes. Looking around, he spotted a smooth stone within his reach, picked it up and plunked it into the water. You can't even meditate properly, he chastised himself. What kind of a Jedi are you?

Finally, he stood, deciding that maybe he'd go down to the practice arena and watch a sparring match or two. He really didn't know what to do; he couldn't remember ever having an entire day to himself and although he knew he should be enjoying it, he only felt lost.

Reaching out through their bond, he found that his Master wasn't entirely closed off from him. Obi-Wan could sense that his Master was calm at the moment and nearby. As he walked slowly along the garden path, he searched for his Master, hoping that maybe he would allow Obi-Wan to join him. His Master had always been able to help him find his calm center, no matter how unsettled he was.

But, it wouldn't be so today.

Obi-Wan stopped, stunned to see not one, but two figures. Qui-Gon was not alone, as he'd expected; Bant was kneeling beside him.

'Jealousy is not an appropriate emotion, especially for a Jedi.' He remembered those words, spoken by his own Master some years ago. They'd just returned from Melida/Daan and Obi-Wan hadn't been accepted back yet -- to the Order, or by Master Qui-Gon Jinn. The Temple was under attack from the inside. Xanatos and Obi-Wan's old rival Bruck Chun were working together, plotting to wreak vengeance on the Jedi.

Wanting nothing more than to be by Qui-Gon's side, to prove his worth so that Qui-Gon would take him back, Obi-Wan had been heartbroken to find that in his absence, his Master had become close to his best friend Bant. While he'd been away fighting for the Young, it had seemed to him, that Bant had taken the opportunity to maneuver her way into his Master's graces and was doing everything she could to replace Obi-Wan.

He remembered all too clearly the feelings of jealousy and anger over his Master's obvious affection for Bant. He remembered his fear that she had taken his place in Qui-Gon's heart; that she would be chosen as his next Padawan. He'd said awful things to her, made terrible accusations and left her to be kidnapped by Xanatos. It was one of the most frightening things that had ever happened to him.

The knowledge that his best friend could die without his ever being able to retract his ugly words, made him sick at heart even to this day.

Until now, he'd thought he learned a valuable lesson from that experience.

Qui-Gon was disappointed when he came out of his trace-like state to find that Obi-Wan was no longer in the garden. Patiently, he remained still a little longer, waiting for Bant to finish her meditations.

"It is later than I expected," Qui-Gon informed his companion. "We must hurry if we are to make it to the preparation ceremony."

They rose and he escorted Tahl's Padawan out of the garden, toward the sacre d chamber where Tahl's body would waiting to be given a private farewell of sorts, before it was taken to the pyre, for the more public ceremony.

Wiping an errant tear from his eye, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and tucked his hands into the sleeves of his cloak. He would miss Tahl. She had always helped him whenever misunderstandings arose between him and Qui-Gon, especially in those awkward days after Melida/Daan. She had always been there with a kind, encouraging word for Obi-Wan and he knew that he would never forget her.

But now, he stood back from the rest of the gathering, for some reason feeling like an intruder. Her spirit was one with the Force now, as he was always taught. Hopefully, she knew Obi-Wan meant her no disrespect.

His gaze wandered over the crowd of Jedi, all clad similarly in their hooded cloaks, hands tucked into their sleeves. The fire blazed brilliantly, lighting the entire area. Qui-Gon stood out from the rest and he could see Bant standing in front of his Master. The flames crackled and cinders popped as Tahl's body was consumed.

Another hooded figure approached, stopping just to the side of Obi-Wan and nodding when Obi-Wan turned his head. A Padawan, he could tell by the long braid flowing out from beneath the hood. He didn't recognize the person, but he was taller than Obi-Wan, probably a senior student. The other boy smiled at him and he was drawn to the very unusual colored eyes. He'd never seen a color so different, so intriguing and he could not seem to look away. The other youth seemed equally mesmerized by Obi-Wan, keeping those unique eyes steadily fixed on Obi-Wan's.

Smiling as if they shared some type of secret, the boy nodded, directing their eyes toward the funeral pyre. The moment Obi-Wan looked away from the other boy, he heard a long, low rumbling noise. As the noise grew louder, flames began to shoot out sideways from the pyre, catching on the roof and beams of the shelter and the clothing of several of the Jedi standing beneath. There was a loud crack and a large plume of black smoke and then the fire seemed to die down. Obi-Wan stood there, in shock as he watched his friend Bant trying in vain to smother the flames trailing down her front side.

For a long moment, he felt frozen in place, memories of the terrifying dream rushing back to him. There were no screams or panic, just a controlled effort to douse the flames. Finally, he felt his own panic recede and was able to move. When he looked to his right, the older boy was gone and without hesitating further, Obi-Wan dashed forward to offer his help.

Some hours later, in a small room across from the infirmary, Obi-Wan was dozing in a chair. He'd been waiting hours for news on his Master and his friend Bant. Qui-Gon had sent waves of calm and comfort through their bond, reassuring his Padawan that he was fine, he wasn't injured, but Obi-Wan wanted visual, tangible proof.

Obi-Wan was too haunted by images of the funeral ceremony to actually sleep, yet too exhausted to remain fully awake, instead he simply drowsed, slipping in and out of consciousness until finally he felt fingers brush through his hair and a hand tilt his chin upwards.

"Padawan?"

Yawning, Obi-Wan sat up straight in his chair and felt a rush of joy to see his Master crouched in front of him. "Master? Are you really okay?" He rubbed his eyes sleepily, before focusing them intently on his Master, checking him over carefully to make certain he was indeed intact.

"Yes, Obi-wan. I'm fine." Qui-Gon raised an appraising eyebrow on the young man, taking note of the soot-smudged face and clothing. "You however, are in need of a shower and some rest."

Qui-Gon was clean and dressed in a plain, white tunic and leggings, but in spite of the patient amusement, his features looked drawn and tired. Obi-Wan could tell that his Master needed rest as much as he did. "Bant? Is she alright?"

"Bant is going to be spending the night in the infirmary, I'm afraid, but she'll be fine."

"I'm glad," Obi-wan said and after a moment of consideration, he asked, "Can we go home now?"

Rubbing a hand over his face, Qui-Gon let out a long sigh. "Obi-Wan, I want you to go home and get some sleep. I'm going to remain here with Bant awhile longer. She's all alone now."

"Oh." Seeming to think this over, he again nodded. "Then I'll stay here too."

"No, Padawan." Qui-Gon put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You need to get some sleep. You 're exhausted. Maybe tomorrow you can come and visit your friend."

"But, I want to stay with you," Obi-Wan pleaded, knowing he was beginning to sound childish.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan, but I'd rather you go back to our quarters. There's no need for you to stay."

No need for you. The inappropriate feelings of jealousy rose up inside him again and he quickly shielded them from his Master.

Qui-Gon gave him a puzzled look. "Are you alright, Padawan?"

Another nod. "Yes."

Qui-Gon seemed to assess him a bit longer before apparently coming to a conclusion. "Run along then. I'll be in touch with you later." His Master smiled and put an arm around him, guiding him toward the door to send him on his way. "Comm me if you need anything."

This can't be happening! Obi-Wan thought frantically. He pulled on the heavy chain again, looking through the murky water to his friend Bant. She wasn't struggling nearly as hard as he was, but she was a Mon Calamari, she could breathe under the water and Obi-Wan already felt as if his lungs were ready to burst. She cast him a sympathetic glance and moved down to work on the other end.

"Calm, Padawan." The voice sent relief flooding through him and then, he was almost afraid to look. What if it was his imagination? What if he wasn't really hearing the soothing voice at all? Hesitantly, he looked toward the surface. Yes, it was his Master!

Qui-Gon was gliding down through the water to rescue them.

As he watched him take out a key and unlock Bant, he wondered briefly why his Master hadn't brought him a breather -- or why he didn't offer his, just long enough for Obi-Wan to get a breath. Dizzy and lightheaded from lack of oxygen, he tried to remain calm as he held out his arm, waving it a little for his Master notice, to unlock him as well. Instead, Qui-Gon ignored him, seemed not to even see him there and hugged, then kissed Bant. "Come Padawan." Qui-Gon told her and the two of them swam up and away from Obi-Wan, as if he didn't exist.

Master, he tried to shout, but Obi-Wan's voice would not carry. He began to panic, wrenching his arm, tugging on the chain to no avail. He needed to breathe; he couldn't stand it anymore. Swirling dots began forming before his eyes and the strange buzzing in his ears was growing louder and louder. Looking once more toward the surface, his last bit of hope turned quickly to despair. They were going to leave him there, to die.

His Master had referred to Bant as 'Padawan' and not given Obi-Wan a thought. Even if he no longer wanted Obi-Wan, how could he just leave him behind to drown? I'm sorry, Master! Please come back for me! I love you! He tried to send through their bond, but his pleas were met with silence.

Master!

"Master!"

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon was holding on to him, shaking him roughly.

With a gasp, Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. "Master!" he cried out again, still caught up in the nightmare.

"I'm right here, Obi-Wan. Calm down. You're okay; it was just a dream."

Qui-Gon pulled him into a firm embrace and Obi-Wan clung to him, trying to keep from sobbing as his entire body trembled. "Shhh.... Everything's okay, Padawan." The Master continued a soothing litany, pulling the blanket around Obi-Wan's shoulders and murmuring reassurances, all the while holding on to him tightly.

"Master," Obi-Wan spoke up after awhile, his voice sounding more than a little desperate. "I keep having the most frightening dreams."

"Shh.... I know, I know. It's all right Padawan. They're just dreams, not real."

"I know that," Obi-Wan whispered. "But they seem-"

"Our dreams sometimes seem real, that's true, especially the unpleasant ones." Qui-Gon pulled back slightly, in order to see his Padawan's face. "It may not seem like it, but sometimes unpleasant dreams can turn out to be helpful, they force us to confront our fears."

Obi-Wan nodded, took a shaky breath and licked his lips. "I've been trying, Master, but I'm afraid I haven't been doing a very good job."

"Then you must ask for help, my Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon could feel everything now. So many disturbing emotions rolling off the boy -- fear, uncertainty and humiliation, among others. How could he have not noticed before? "Would you like to tell me about your dreams?"

There was a long silence and then Obi-Wan looked into his Master's face with a miserable expression. "Master? Do you still love me?"

Qui-Gon was startled by the unexpected question. "Of course I do, Padawan."

"Master, I mean...do you love me, like I love you."

Obi-Wan had always been willing to confess his love, but never asked the same of his Master. "Obi-Wan, you know the answer to that."

Obi-Wan was prepared for the evasion. "Please, Master, I need to hear you say it. Please."

Qui-Gon ran a hand over his forehead, feeling frustrated -- with himself for a number of reasons and with Obi-Wan's sudden need for reassurance, which was entirely his fault, he supposed. "Obi-Wan," he tilted the boy's chin upwards, "I love you, more than anything. Never doubt that."

Obi-Wan's face lit up in response, making the reluctant admission entirely worthwhile.

"Love, you must understand...until you are knighted-"

"Knighted?" Obi-Wan almost shrieked in disbelief.

"Well, until you are older," Qui-Gon conceded. "Until I am certain that you understand the costs of our choosing to pursue such a relationship, I cannot in good conscience encourage this. Your training comes first, Obi-Wan."

"'There is no emotion'," he mimicked. "That's just so...wrong!"

"Padawan, you may think it wrong now, but you are young. Be mindful that it has not been in the Code for a thousand years because it's a misguided, ridiculous notion. There may come a time that-"

"I will never see any logic in a rule that forbids my love for you," Obi-Wan said stubbornly.

"When you are older, you'll understand."

"But, I do understand," Obi-Wan argued. "My love for you makes me happy, it makes me want to train harder, do better, it makes me want to strive to make you proud. It makes me feel alive. Everything about it is good, not bad."

"Oh, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's features softened at the determined set of his Padawan's jaw, the tenacity in his eyes and he pulled Obi-Wan close again, resting his cheek on the soft, spikes of hair. "You are so young."

"But, I am old enough to know better."

"Maybe," admitted the Master, "but even so, we would certainly be putting ourselves in jeopardy with the Council if we were to move ahead with this. That is something you need to think very deeply on."

I already have, he wanted to say, but instead he answered dutifully, "Yes, my Master."

"It is not something to be rushed in on. We must have patience and above all, seek the will of the Force."

"Of course, Master."

Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan back with him, to lie against the pillows, never releasing the young man from his arms. After a few moments of silence, Obi-Wan pulled away slightly.

"Did you hear that? I'm almost certain it's the Force, Master," he said, looking up with wide, innocent eyes, an expression that Qui-Gon immediately suspected. "It's speaking to you, can you hear it?"

"No, I'm quite sure that I cannot," he replied dryly. "Tell me young Padawan, whatever could the Force possibly have to say to me?"

Obi-Wan kept up the innocent façade, "Why it's saying that you should live in the moment, you should listen to your feelings, be aware of the Living Force -- where have I heard that before? Oh, and that you should kiss your Padawan, right now."

"Obi-Wan..." he narrowed his eyes, trying to look perturbed, but it didn't last long. "Living Force, indeed. Come here you little..."

Grinning, obviously pleased with himself, Obi-Wan moved up until the two of them were face to face and then slowly, he leaned forward, hesitating just a hairs breadth away. When Qui-Gon didn't protest, he pressed his lips lightly against those of his Master, nuzzling, breathing him in and then Obi-Wan began kissing him slowly, sensually, allowing the warmth of soft lips, the familiar roughness of beard and the rich scent of his beloved Master penetrate his senses. Moments went by before he deepened the kiss, tracing his tongue very lightly over Qui-Gon's lips, then sliding between them, seeking permission to taste him further.

Qui-Gon parted his lips, reveling in the moment, absorbing the sweetness of breath, the essence of his Obi-Wan. He pulled the smaller body more closely to him, running his large hands over the smooth, soft skin of Obi-Wan's back and shoulders. Their tongues moved fluidly against each other, taking turns gliding over teeth and palate, savoring every part within reach, wanting even more.

As the kiss deepened, became more arousing, Obi-Wan squirmed closer, until he lay on top of his Master, pressing his own hardness against Qui-Gon's firm hip.

Allowing himself to be swept away by the moment, Qui-Gon gave in to the pressure of the young man's thigh against his groin. Placing one hand on Obi-Wan's lower back, he slid the other down further over the muscular curve, encouraging the rocking motion and losing himself in the building heat of their bodies.

Obi-Wan stiffened in his arms, then buried his face in Qui-Gon's neck, whimpering once as he climaxed. The sound, the feeling of his Padawan's warm, harsh breath, along with the tense, quivering muscles molded against him were enough to push the older man over the edge and he came with a low moan, wrapping his arms even more tightly against the lean body as he gasped for breath.

"Love you, Master," Obi-Wan whispered sleepily into the crook of his neck.

"And I, you," he answered, voice filled with emotion. One would think that a Jedi Master should have more control, he scolded himself mentally. Yet no matter how he tried to restrain his desire, or contain his intimate feelings for Obi-Wan, he simply wasn't able. Intimate feelings -- Love, he corrected with a smile. And now, he knew that he should be feeling guilt or regret over his obvious lack of control, but he couldn't -- he wouldn't cast that dark shadow over their encounter. It was too sweet, too beautiful and unmistakably Light -- just like Obi-Wan. "We must be careful though, discreet. There is too much to lose otherwise."

"If you wish, my Master."

"It is not my wish, love, but the way it must be. Now, sleep."

He held on to the boy until he felt his body relax completely and the rhythm of his breathing had evened out, indicating sleep. They say that a Master can learn much from their Padawan; maybe it was time that he took a lesson from his own. Obi-Wan had always held firmly to his belief that the Force was with them, but Qui-Gon continued to hesitate, to stubbornly resist. Yes, indeed it was time to rethink all of these things, to contemplate the entire situation with a fresh, new perspective. With a bit of Force, he deepened the sleep, stripped the boy of his damp leggings and wrapped him in the blanket. A gentle kiss to Obi-Wan's forehead and reluctantly, Qui-Gon returned to his own room.

His Master had allowed him to sleep late this morning, which was intended as a nice gesture, but markedly shortened the amount of time he needed to achieve the mission he had planned for the day. The mission would be a difficult one, it always was. Every year on this day, Obi-Wan Kenobi went in search for the perfect gift. Today was the anniversary of his Master's Knighting Day.

Qui-Gon had already been gone when Obi-Wan woke, but he'd left a note on his data pad instructing him to meet the Master at 15:00. Again, Obi-Wan checked the time before tucking the necessary document into a small pouch on his belt. Only the Senior Padawans were allowed out of the Temple without permission and being that he did not want his Master to know of this particular 'mission', he had to get permission elsewhere.

"Thank you, Master Windu."

The Councilor schooled his features, giving the youth a stern look. "Just be certain you return on time, Padawan." When Obi-Wan turned to leave, Mace Windu smiled.

He had four hours to find the item he desired and no idea of where to begin. His Master's Knighting Day was today and Qui-Gon Jinn was a very difficult man to please. Undoubtedly, he would pretend to like anything that Obi-Wan bought. Like the time Obi-Wan had bought him that expensive cologne. He'd been awed by its green, glass container, adorned with hundreds of tiny, brightly colored jewels and shaped like a Corellian Cruiser. If he would have taken time to smell the cologne in advance, he'd have realized that it smelled utterly disgusting -- not that that would have dissuaded his twelve-year-old self, of course. To this day, the bottle sat on his Master's shelf -- full -- since his Master supposedly only used it for special occasions and then, only sparingly. He didn't even want to remember the feline incident. His Master still bore the scars from that Knighting Day and somewhere in the Jedi Temple, lurked an angry, anti-social feline with very sharp claws.

While he waited for the next air taxi, he pondered the type of things that Qui-Gon might find appealing. Now that he was older, he was much better at picking out more practical gifts. Last year he had gotten him a half dead miniature Portalian rose bush. Just as he'd predicted, his Master had been thrilled with the seemingly worthless and unattractive gift. It had given his Master hours of pleasure, not only in tending and nurturing it back into a healthy, vibrant plant, but he'd received equal pleasure in the many opportunities to lecture his Padawan on the numerous aspects of patience, nurturing, growth, deception, perceptions of beauty, the Living Force, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Obi-Wan sighed; he'd have to be certain to choose his Master's gift more wisely this year.

"I remember you." An unfamiliar voice startled him out of his reverie. Obi-Wan looked up into the extraordinarily colored eyes of the boy who'd stood next to him at the disastrous funeral pyre. "You're Master Jinn's Padawan, aren't you? Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan found that he was no less enthralled with the older boy, than he'd been the other night. Only after a long moment of staring, was he able to break the intense gaze and respond to the question. "Ummm...yes." Oh very eloquent, Padawan, he scolded himself in Qui-Gon's voice. "Have we met?"

"I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm sure that if we had been, I'd remember it," the youth replied, smoothly. "My name is Saul."

"I don't remember seeing you around the Temple," Obi-Wan said curiously.

"That is because I haven't been around the Temple much lately. I have been assisting the Senate for almost a year, now," the Senior Padawan's demeanor abruptly became melancholy. "Ever since my Master's accident."

"Accident?" Obi-Wan's eyes grew wide. He was uncertain as to whether he should press for details, but nonetheless intrigued, much like one is to a gruesome scene. It was always a little frightening and unsettling to hear of any Padawan losing their Master.

"Yes, my Master had a most unfortunate accident and has been comatose for nearly a year."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Obi-Wan was truly sorry; he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to lose his Master.

"Yes well, the will of the Force, I suppose." The boy glanced around the port, possibly searching for a distraction.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder, "What about your training?"

Saul smiled, his unusual eyes penetrating. "The Senate also has accessibility to exercise chambers. I can spar, practice katas, anything I need and keeping up with all of my classes is not a problem, in fact I'm learning a great deal more in matters of politics and diplomacy. The Council keeps apprised of my progress."

"But, what about your Knighthood?"

"Ah, well...I must admit that becoming a Knight no longer holds the same amount of intrigue that it once did, Obi-Wan. Believe it or not, political matters are of much more interest to me."

"Oh." Obi-Wan hoped his expression wasn't blatantly displaying the bewilderment he felt. Force! What kind of a Jedi would rather hang around the Senate than go out on adventures and missions?

"It's not as bad as you think, Obi-Wan," Saul replied to the unspoken comment, making the younger boy blush. "Are you going down to the market district?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan's face lit up, "I need to purchase a gift...for my Master."

"Well, I just happen to be going there myself," the older boy remarked cheerily, gesturing Obi-Wan toward the taxi. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"I'd like that."

Qui-Gon walked slowly as he escorted the small Mon Calamarian girl down the long corridor leading to the student dormitories. He smiled encouragingly every time she looked up at him. There were a number of a number of Padawan learners who still resided in the dormitory, although most of them shared their Master's quarters.

Obi-Wan was shielding from him, but he knew the reason and it made him smile. Today was the anniversary of his Knighting Day. Although it wasn't customary to celebrate this occasion, Obi-Wan always liked to make it a special day for his Master, pampering him, making a nice meal and sometimes, like this year, he'd go down to the market in search of an unusual gift to give. At first he simply indulged the boy because it seemed to make him so happy. But now, he had to admit that it pleased him as well and in all honesty, he'd found himself looking forward to the day.

They had just entered the dorm when Qui-Gon received the first indication that his Padawan was distressed. A tiny wave of fear and uncertainty across their bond that almost immediately vanished, leaving him unsettled. It hadn't been a cry for help and when he tested, Obi-Wan's signature again was unreadable. He debated going down to the market district in search of his Padawan, but then decided maybe that would be a little extreme. If Obi-Wan truly needed his help, he would certainly have been more insistent.

After seeing Bant safely delivered, spending a very brief amount of time making sure that she was comfortably settled, he left the dorms knowing that Obi-Wan should be arriving soon. They had a practice session scheduled at 15:00, in less than an hour.

At nearly 17:00, Qui-Gon was anxiously pacing the port where his apprentice had been last seen catching an air taxi. Over and over again, he attempted to reach the boy, through the comm and mentally through their bond, his tone had gone from worried to angry and back again; it now teetered on frantic. Obi-Wan was always punctual; he couldn't remember a single time that his Padawan had been late for anything.

With sick realization, he finally allowed himself to admit that Obi-Wan was not simply tardy. His Padawan was in some kind of trouble. He put in the call to Mace Windu, whom he'd been in contact with since shortly after Obi-Wan had been expected to return. The Councilor had been in a meeting, but insisted on accompanying Qui-Gon on any potential search effort. Qui-Gon understood that Mace was feeling somewhat responsible, being the one to grant the boy permission to leave the Temple. He didn't hold that against the Councilor and was actually grateful that it had been Mace Windu. Noone else would have made Obi-Wan leave a detailed itinerary. Mace knew the exact area that Obi-Wan had intended to go.

As he waited for Windu to join him, he was suddenly jolted by a violent wave of pain, desperation and fear. He staggered, nearly dropping to his knees when it hit and although he was a Jedi Master, his first reaction was to panic.

For Obi-Wan's sake, he had to remain calm.

Closing his eyes, he gathered his wits about him, breathing through the urge to panic, to run screaming through the Jedi Temple or appropriate an air taxi and speed away on his own. It took several deep breaths until he felt in control again; he opened his eyes to look into the deeply concerned eyes of Mace Windu.

"Come, Qui-Gon. We must hurry."

The last thing that Obi-Wan remembered clearly was literally running into one of the members of the Senate. His companion, Saul, had stepped away from him to speak privately with the Senator for a moment. That's when Obi-Wan had begun to feel dizzy. After that, he had only vague memories. Confusion, wavering images of old buildings, a dark room, pain, loss of control and flashes of something he did not want to remember.

And now, all he knew was that he was cold, sick and in pain. It was too dark to see, but he could tell that he wasn't home. He attempted to struggle to his feet, knowing he was overdue, he needed to get back to the Temple, needed his Master, but he was too weak and even the slightest motion made his head hurt unbearably. Sliding back to the ground, his stomach rolled and he vomited again.

Master! Crying out for his Master through the Force made him feel like a helpless child, but it was all he could do. Unable to contain a sob, he willed his Master to find him, but before he was able to detect any response, he lost his battle with consciousness.

Qui-Gon watched the young girl closely, anticipating the distraught reaction even before it happened. Eyes wide with shock and disbelief, she reached out for his arm to steady herself, as tears began rolling down her face. The only sound she made was a gasped, "Obi-Wan."

"I warned you that it was bad." Qui-Gon spoke in a mild, soothing tone, empathetic to the young girl's reaction at seeing Obi-Wan in this condition.

He had felt - still felt - absolute, barely containable rage at the sight of the badly beaten young man. Obi-Wan was still unconscious, his face bruised and swollen and those were only the visible injuries.

The healer had diagnosed: external and internal injuries, shock and loss of blood, over-dose of a mixture of drugs -- all things Obi-Wan would heal from, in time. But there was one specific injury that the Master could not have such optimism over. His beautiful, precious apprentice had been brutally raped.

It was unimaginable to him, that one living being could do such despicable things to another, especially to such a brilliantly radiant soul as his Obi-Wan. "The healers will be putting him in the bacta tank shortly."

"Okay," she whispered, nodding. "I-I think I want to go home, Master Qui-Gon." Voice trembling, she was obviously having a difficult struggle with her own emotions.

In all honesty, Qui-Gon was relieved when she didn't ask to stay. He had little to offer in support; he needed all of his reserves to focus on helping Obi-Wan recover.

With a nod of understanding, he placed a hand on Bant's shoulder. For a moment, he fought the urge to stroke the boy's hair, wanting to give comfort and assurance, but he resisted, afraid to cause him any more pain. Instead, he settled for sending a wave of comfort through their bond, hoping that his Padawan would feel his presence. Then he ushered the girl toward the door. "I'll walk you home, Padawan."

For three days Obi-Wan remained submerged in the bacta, giving his Master ample time to derive a plan to identify his attacker, or attackers and bring them to justice. It also gave him ample time to invent numerous slow, painful and very un-Jedi-like punishments for the person who dared to lay their hands on his Padawan this way.

Vengeance is an inappropriate emotion for a Jedi. He had repeated this to himself numerous times while on New Apsolon. And while he was relieved that he hadn't again lost control of his senses, he couldn't help but consider with a new respect, the fine line between Darkness and Light. It would be so simple, even now, for him to simply let go -- to shift his weight and suddenly find himself on the wrong side. As a Master -- and as a person having recently battled this emotion -- he was well aware of the effects of allowing oneself to seek vengeance, yet none of his insight or knowledge helped curb his desire for it.

Obi-Wan woke slowly, taking long moments to inventory his surroundings, his condition. He was warm, wrapped in a blanket, comfortable, feeling a bit out of sorts, but in no pain. Felt the bed dip. Master, he thought. Felt a warm, gentle hand on his forehead. Tried to swallow, but found his throat too dry.

"Master," he managed to whisper roughly, turning his head toward the comforting presence.

"I'm right here, my Obi-Wan."

He felt the warm breath of the whisper spoken into his ear, a kiss on his cheek. Finally, finally he opened his eyes.

The first thing that greeted him was his Master's compassionate expression; a warm smile and gentle, concerned blue eyes. "There you are, love."

The room seemed too bright, his eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "Master?" Why was he lying in his bed when it was obviously well past sunrise and why was Qui-Gon looking at him that way?

"How do you feel?"

Obi-Wan took a moment to consider the question. He felt groggy, his head felt heavy and when he attempted to move it made him dizzy, his mouth and throat felt like he had eaten nothing but dry, desert sand for the last week. But then again, maybe he had? He couldn't really remember. Everything seemed surreal; like being in a strange dream. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely convinced that this was real, maybe he was simply dreaming? "Thirsty."

"Just relax, Padawan. I've got something right here." Qui-Gon reached over to the pitcher of water on the bed stand, poured some into a glass.

Carefully he lifted Obi-Wan, held the glass to his lips and allowed him to sip.

"Master?" he asked after he'd had a few drinks and been placed back against the pillows. Something was wrong, he knew by the look in his Master's eyes, but he couldn't remember what, if anything, had happened. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Qui-Gon sputtered, his eyes going wide.

Obi-Wan nodded slightly, studying every detail of his Master's face.

"I'm fine, Obi-Wan. Other than the fact I've been very worried about you."

"Me?" He frowned. Obi-Wan always hated to worry his Master, but he had no idea what he'd done this time and he was too tired to try and figure it out right now.

"We will speak of it later, my Padawan." He was lifted again, offered another swallow of cool water and he drank as much as his Master allowed him. "Small sips."

Closing his eyes again, he took several breaths. Beads of perspiration had appeared on his forehead, the exertion of the simple act of taking a few drinks of water had worn him out. Still, he needed to know. "What happened?"

"Shh...do not concern yourself, right now," Qui-Gon soothed, slowly leaning back with Obi-Wan in his arms. "There will be time for that later. For now, I want you only to rest and focus on your healing."

Too exhausted to argue, Obi-Wan closed his eyes again.

Nearly seven days after Obi-Wan had regained consciousness, he still remembered nothing that had happened on the day of his assault.

The healers at first thought it best to not force the memories to surface. The boy needed to rest and heal with as little stress as possible. Now they were in agreement with the Council that it was time to take action. They'd given their consent to probe the boy's mind, although stipulating that the action should be as mildly intrusive as possible, so as not to cause even more trauma to Obi-Wan's psyche.

Qui-Gon still felt that Obi-Wan should be allowed to remember on his own, in his own time. And things had come down to a face-off of sorts in the Council chamber.

"The boy remembers nothing," he argued, speaking boldly to the Council members, "I will not submit him to an inquisition of this sort. Not now."

"Qui-Gon," Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke out, "I don't have to tell you how important the information is. Every hour that goes by makes the possibility of finding the assailant less likely."

"I realize that. I want this person brought to justice as well, but not at the risk of Obi-Wan. I will not allow it."

"That's enough! The decision is not entirely yours, Qui-Gon." Mace Windu replied harshly, immediately regretting it and softening his tone. "It is time, old friend. We are risking his emotional state every minute that we allow him to continue this way. At least this way, the situation will be controlled."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, fighting to find his center. He'd known this was coming. "I will agree on one condition: that I am the one to do the probe. It will be less traumatic for Obi-Wan."

"Qui-Gon, you know we can't allow that, unless..." Mace Windu closed his eyes and the entire Council went silent, as they mentally discussed his request amongst each other.

"Allow this, we will. One condition, we have."

Qui-Gon let out a long, slow breath. "Thank you, Master."

"The procedure will take place in the infirmary," Master Windu explained. "One or more of us will be present and you will link with us, allowing yourself to be a conduit. Then there can be no accusation of impropriety."

Qui-Gon wanted to argue, but knew it would be futile. Instead, he bowed deeply, ultimately grateful that the Council had granted this concession. In most circumstances similar to Obi-Wan's, only the healers or Council members were allowed to perform the intricate procedure of retrieving the victim's repressed memory.

Knowing it was irrational, Qui-Gon simply couldn't bear the thought of anyone taking anything more from his Padawan.

On the balcony of the quarters he shared with his Master, Obi-Wan relaxed. It was a rare sunny day and he was content just to lean back, close his eyes and feel the warmth on his face.

Later, he would attribute the flood of memories possibly to the murkiness of the sun through the polluted Coruscant atmosphere. The color was so similar to the eyes -- Saul's eyes.

Qui-Gon knew half way back from his Council session, what was happening. He felt every single wave of emotion rolling off of his Padawan. Without a second thought, he was off in a Force-enhanced sprint through the Temple.

Palming the lock of their door, he rushed inside. Obi-wan was standing perfectly still on the balcony, but turned when he heard his Master approach.

The expression on his youthful face made Qui-Gon's heart break all over again. Slowly he walked toward his Padawan. "Obi-Wan," he whispered harshly, opening his arms in desperate hope that the boy would come to him, accept his offer support and comfort and not shut him out.

Obi-Wan wiped his eyes, but the tears still poured down his cheeks. "Master," he cried, looking achingly young and lost.

To Qui-Gon's overwhelming relief, he launched himself into his Master's arms and held on for all he was worth.

"I remember it," he sobbed into Qui-Gon's shoulder, "I remember what happened!"

"It's all right, Padawan. It's going to be all right, now. Just let it go." He held on tightly as Obi-Wan released the storm of pent up emotion and memories, begging for answers, pleading for understanding.

At one point, the uncontrollable sobbing had relented to hitching breaths and Obi-Wan, expression blank, had managed to whisper, "He said it was the will of the Force, Master. That's not true, is it?" Immediately the wracking sobs began again, worse if possible than before.

Qui-Gon knew that any answer given at that moment would be lost in the maelstrom of emotion being released. "The Force simply is, Obi-Wan," he gave the standard answer anyway, feeling empty inside as he spoke. "It is energy, power, but it has no will of its own. The Force, in itself, is neither good nor bad." He continued murmuring assurances, knowing that it was mostly the sound of the Master's soothing voice that eventually calmed the Padawan.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the tense body relaxed in his arms. With the exception of the occasional hitching breath, Obi-Wan quieted, his eyes half lidded as he drifted, emotionally and physically drained. Qui-Gon simply held him, still whispering endearments, dropping gentle kisses on forehead and brows. A few moments longer and the boy was asleep. Qui-Gon lifted him, placing him in his own bed and pulling the blanket up to his chin, wrapping him in a cocoon of calming, healing Force energy.

Having all the information he needed, he contacted the Council and went to work finding the boy named Saul.

Hours later Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan stirring in the sleep room. He shut down the terminal he'd been working at, satisfied to have found almost everything he needed -- everything that is, except the man who'd violated his Padawan.

That would come soon enough, he hoped.

As he stood stretching out his cramped muscles, he realized that he no longer harbored the hate and anger, the desire for vengeance that he had earlier. It was a wonderfully freeing, uplifting sensation making the discussion he was about to have with Obi-Wan much easier to bear.

Quietly he entered the room, settled in on the bed next to his Padawan and waited for him to come fully awake.

"I don't feel hatred toward him, Master, but I cannot forgive what he did. Is that wrong of me?"

Qui-Gon nearly choked out a laugh. "I dare say that you are being far more gracious than I, my Padawan."

"It's really very sad that Saul's unrequited love for his Master caused him to become so full of hatred. I have more pity for him than anger, even after everything he's done."

"You have a generous heart and spirit, my love."

"I knew that a person's love could lead them to do desperate things, but I guess I hadn't considered all of the possibilities." Obi-Wan admitted, puzzled.

"That is one of the reasons that the Code discourages such feelings," Qui-Gon gently explained. "Although love is a pleasant emotion in itself, it can easily lead to a more sinister path."

Obi-Wan looked up sharply at his Master. "But we're not like that!"

"Obi-Wan, I didn't mean to insinuate that we were," Qui-Gon replied steadily. "I'm only trying to show you the reasoning behind the issue."

"I understand, Master."

"Saul's Master didn't return the feelings of love that Saul offered," Qui-Gon explained patiently, wanting to be certain Obi-Wan understood all of the implications. "Instead, he took advantage of the feelings and used them for his own pleasure."

"He just wanted sex, not love."

"Well," the Master rolled his eyes, "yes, I suppose you could put it that way."

"He lied; he misled Saul into believing that he returned his feelings, when he didn't. He was abusive and manipulative, knowing that Saul would never openly accuse his Master," Obi-Wan continued theorizing. "He made promises to appease Saul and out of desperation Saul deluded himself into believing."

"Very good, Padawan."

"I still don't understand, Master. Isn't it likely that Saul would have taken a wrong path at some other time, maybe with a different circumstance?"

"It's possible. I suppose we'll never know for certain. Maybe if he'd have been trained more thoroughly, he would have had better ability to control his emotions."

"Yes Master, but if he had been trained more thoroughly, it's probable that he wouldn't have been subjected to the same circumstances."

"I'm afraid that all we can do is hypothesize," Qui-Gon remarked with a thoughtful expression. "Every being is different, we all handle situations differently."

"So, why do a few negative examples end up being a consensus for all?"

"Obi-Wan, there are more than a few negative examples."

"Yes, but there have to be positive examples too, right? It isn't a bad thing all the time."

"Maybe not, but I'm quite sure that it's possible for almost anyone to -- under certain circumstances -- be led astray by allowing their emotions to rule them, to cloud their judgment."

Obi-Wan considered this for long moments, eyebrows drawn together, rubbing his chin thoughtfully until finally he seemed to accept it as true and looked at his Master. "Master? Have you ever allowed your emotions to cloud your thinking and judgment?"

"Only where you're concerned, my Padawan," he meant as an attempt to be humorous, but Obi-Wan didn't smile. "Obi-Wan, " he continued more seriously, "I am guilty of doing exactly that. The moment I laid eyes on your broken body, I wanted nothing more than to destroy whoever had done that to you." He smiled wryly, touched the boy's cheek. "You see, my love, it is possible for everyone, including us - including me -- to lose sight of ourselves given the right situation."

"So...are you saying...?" Obi-Wan didn't even think he was able to voice the thought going through his mind, could his Master be telling him there was no hope for their love?

"I'm saying, that we need to be very careful, always on our guard - perhaps more than the others, so that we remain in control of our emotions, not led by them."

Obi-Wan nodded with all seriousness, then smiled and threw himself into his Master's arms. "Good. Because I love you, Master."

It was a rare situation, to stand before both the Council and the Senate, but the charges Obi-Wan and his Master were issuing were in fact very serious. Whenever a Jedi was formally charged with such an offense that jeopardized their status in the Order, it became a Senate matter, as well as a Council matter. The fact that Saul worked in the Senate made it all the more their concern.

After Obi-Wan's memory had returned, Qui-Gon Jinn had easily accessed most of the incriminating details from his Padawan's mind and after a lengthy sleep Obi-Wan had told him everything else he remembered.

The Council also had gently touched the Padawan's mind and then the Master's; comparing the information to establish the details they needed to bring up charges.

Now, it was up to the Council to relay the information they'd gathered to the Senate, who in turn would have input as to where they should proceed from there.

Saul's previous records were brought forth, summarizing that in a jealous rage, Saul had attempted to murder his former Master, Judas-Wat. The Padawan had confessed, admitted to doing everything stated in the record, willingly submitted to the Council's request to probe his mind and submissively placed his fate in the hands of the Council. His appointed advocate had pleaded for mercy, detailing his impressive academic records, advanced use of the Force, high class ranking, high midichlorian level. All of that, along with his young age and the details of the abusive Master-Padawan relationship he'd been subjected to ensured that Saul was granted leniency and a second chance. A probation of sorts was recommended, the length of time to be determined by the Council, who would be constantly monitoring his progress. It was felt that he was indeed repentant and therefore rehabilitation was entirely conceivable.

No more chances, thought Qui-Gon Jinn as he waited for the arrival of the accused. This entire hearing was just a formality, what Qui-Gon was most interested in at this point, was whether or not the boy had acted alone when he'd assaulted his Padawan.

In Obi-Wan's memory there were very brief glimpses of a second, dark hooded figure that not even the Council could identify. But the simple fact that Obi-Wan had no specific memory another attacker, didn't clarify that there were not two attackers. It was possible that he'd never got a look at their face, or more likely, that he had been drugged to incoherence and never aware of the number of assailants.

They would never know until the accused arrived and they were allowed to examine his mind and memory. The Jedi Master found that he was growing impatient.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on finding his calm center. This was no time for him to display anxiety; he needed to be the epitome of Jedi serenity.

He felt the tension even before opening his eyes, a faintly detectable turbulence in the Force. Slowly, calmly he opened his eyes, remaining very still. Obi-Wan was not fairing quite so well in remaining calm, but his Master thought he was doing well enough, under the circumstances.

"Senator Palpatine," Master Windu's voice thundered, "why have you kept us waiting and where is your aid?"

"My apologies, Council members and my esteemed colleagues of the Senate." Palpatine stood in the center of the chamber, bowed deeply before both groups and cast a sympathetic glance in Obi-Wan's direction. "I'm afraid that I have some rather disturbing news to report."

Mace Windu frowned, but nodded. "Go ahead and speak, Senator."

"Upon receiving your summons and the communication regarding my Page, Saul, I immediately confined him to quarters, under guard, per request," the Senator explained nervously. "When I went to retrieve him a short while ago, he was...well, the door was still locked and sealed, the guards outside, but somehow...Saul was gone."

There was sudden crescendo of voices, as anyone would expect. Mace Windu shouted for order to no avail. Only two figures remained completely still, both sets of eyes locked meaningfully.

Qui-Gon Jinn stood utterly still, his hands tucked in the sleeves of his cloak, serene gaze communicating something in private with the tiny, ancient Master Yoda. Beside him, Obi-Wan looked shell-shocked, but to his Master's credit he also remained relatively calm. Master Yoda nodded, his eyes blinking slowly then resting again on his former Padawan. Apparently, it was a signal of sorts, because a moment later, Qui-Gon was escorting his young Padawan out of the chamber.

"Obi-Wan, you'll need to pack some things, we're going away for awhile," his Master told him as they hurried through the long hall to their quarters. "I'm not sure how long we'll be gone, it could be a quite awhile, so pack accordingly."

"Yes, Master...but Master?" Obi-Wan was struggling to keep up with his Master's long stride. Qui-Gon slowed as soon as he realized that his not yet fully recovered Padawan was panting from the exertion. "May I ask where we're going?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "No, you may not. It's a surprise." He actually found himself struggling with the urge to stay at the Temple and be involved in any search for the missing Saul. He was pretty certain however that the boy was not on Coruscant and besides, to give into his urge to track down Saul, would be allowing his emotions - his need for vengeance -- guide and control him. For the sake of Obi-Wan's love, for his honor, he would not allow that to happen. Someday when he was feeling particularly analytical, he would attempt to define more clearly whether resisting that urge out of love for Obi-Wan, was simply giving into his emotions on another level.

For now, he needed to get his own Padawan away from all of this chaos, away from these shadows of darkness.

"You know I hate surprises, Master," the young man groused.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," his Master replied bemused, not at all repentant.

~ Epilogue ~

Freshly showered, seated on the edge of the their shared sleep couch, Obi-Wan was still trying to figure out where in the Sith hells his Master was taking him. "Barah IV?" he guessed. He had looked at the charts and knew the direction they were traveling in. The Barah/Tran system was one possibility, with several planets suitably habitable for humanoid life.

The bed dipped and strong arms embraced him from behind. "Wrong again, my impatient one," Qui-Gon said huskily into his ear, nipping at the lobe.

Capable hands began sliding over his bare chest, teasing, fingers circling a nipple as the other hand slipped further down, over his abdomen, sliding just underneath the waistband of his leggings.

"I just put these on." Admittedly a halfhearted protest as he felt the telltale flush of arousal warm his skin.

"I know." Heated breath, followed by soft, heated lips began kissing a moist trail along his neck, slowly down his sensitive spine, across his shoulders, nipping at each shoulder blade before working its way back up, pausing to nuzzle behind a ear.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against his Master's shoulder. "Force!"

A low chuckle, then a slow but efficient movement and Obi-Wan was lying back, his leggings were being pulled over his bare feet and the torturously slow kisses began again. Panting, he squeezed his eyes closed tightly while trying to remain calm and patient, but Obi-Wan was finding his endurance sorely lacking as the mouth continued moving up his calves, gently sucking on the inside of each knee as his legs were parted.

Feeling pressure building up in his groin, he couldn't help but moan helplessly as those wonderfully evil lips trailed up the inside of a thigh, stopping to taste the crease at the top, then moving on to nuzzle and lap at the skin beneath his testicles.

His Master was trying to kill him, or drive him insane. He shuddered, making a whimpering sound when he felt the mouth moving away, making the journey back down the other thigh.

"Okay?" The sultry voice inquired. Obi-Wan was incapable of answering with anything but a nod and a semi-frustrated growl.

The Sithly chuckle again, he thought, barely coherent. And then - "Oh!" The large, familiar hands were finally touching him -- "Yes! There!" Just the very realization of that, of whose hands were touching him, made him so hard that he ached. It was almost painful to the touch, but then -- "Oh Force!"

They were ridiculous, really, the noises he was making, loud and unrestrained, but Force, he couldn't stop himself if he tried, because Qui-Gon had carefully pulled the foreskin back and he could feel the warm lips, teeth barely skimming and tongue teasing the crown of his erection and then the warm cavern of wetness simply engulfed him, consumed him. His Master was sucking him down and it was all too intense, the blood that normally carried oxygen to his brain cells had abandoned ship and was all headed south to warmer waters. Unable to restrain himself, he grabbed handfuls of his Master's hair, trying desperately to hold his head in place. Thank the Force, Qui-Gon didn't falter, in fact, if anything, it seemed to encourage him and he swallowed -- once, twice and that was all it took, Obi-Wan held on tightly and began to thrust. Already, his ears were ringing, gray spots dotted his vision; it wasn't long before he cried out and came violently, exploding into Qui-Gon's throat.

"There my love," Qui-Gon whispered tenderly, as he cleaned his now senseless Padawan and then his own belly. Pulling Obi-Wan into his arms, he settled back for a short nap.

They would be in hyperspace for a few hours longer and the auto-pilot would notify him when they reached the Barah/Tran system. Obi-Wan had been getting close in his guessing, but for some reason he'd overlooked the beautiful planet Illuma. It would be a fine place for his Padawan, for the two of them together, to heal and restore mind and body -- to exorcise any lingering shadows and replenish their souls with Light.

His skin felt raw -- was raw. The pricking of the needles had ranged from painful to dull pain to barely tolerable pain, depending on what part of his skin was being worked on and now the saltiness of his perspiration added a new, constant stinging sensation.

"Does it hurt much my apprentice?" The Master asked in a sickeningly sweet sounding voice.

The apprentice gritted his teeth together, struggling to remain motionless as his Master continued the painstakingly slow procedure.

"Well? I asked you a question, boy."

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Wait until we get to the next stage of your transformation."

"Yes, Master."

"Quit trying to sound pathetic," the Master hissed. "This is all your own doing. You just couldn't keep your hands of that boy."

"It isn't like you didn't enjoy yourself as well...Master."

"Well, somebody had to make sure you didn't kill the brat and since I was there...."

"Yes, Master. But, if I may say so, I would never have killed him. I know very well of the prophecy and of Obi-Wan Kenobi's importance in the future of the Chosen One."

"Well, you could have fooled me!" The Master slapped him hard across the tender flesh of a freshly tattooed cheek.

"I'm sorry, Master." The apprentice looked down submissively.

"Well?" The Master held out a mirror for his student to look at his new, vibrantly colored markings.

The student was speechless, his eyes wide in horror as he gazed upon himself in the mirror.

"I knew you'd like it. Rest assured, nobody will ever recognize you," the Master growled from behind, swiping the mirror away and setting it aside. Picking up a razor sharp scalpel, he grinned ruthlessly. "Now, hold still. This is going to be extremely painful."

~ End ~