Master Apprentice Archive Soul Bared Quick search:

Archive: MA. Anyone else, please ask.

Categories: Angst

Rating: High R for sex

Spoilers: None.

Series/Sequel: There might be a follow up.

Feedback: Would be really cool.

Summary: Part of the TMI Bonding challenge. Obi and Qui plan to bond, stuff happens, and Obi has to break the bad news to Qui.

'Dearest master and love,' Obi-Wan wrote painstakingly with the archaic stylus, 'I don't know how to begin, how I can explain what has happened...' He stopped, setting the pen down and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He looked over at the sleeping figure, who lay half hidden under the bed sheets. A man as far different from Qui-Gon as there could possibly be.

Force, had it only been a week? A week ago his life had been painfully normal.

One last mission, the council had asked politely this time. They knew it might set back the timing of the bonding ceremony for the two lovers, but it was deemed necessary. And Qui-Gon had, for once in his life, bowed and accepted their will. It was, after all, only one more mission, and then he and his padawan would be joined together forever.

"Do you think they are delaying us on purpose?" Obi-Wan had whispered later that evening, when the packing had been taken care of and all they had to do was wait for their transport to arrive. He curled up on their couch, a cup of steaming tea in his hand, although he hadn't bothered to even take a sip of it.

"What would be the purpose in that, my padawan?" Qui-Gon had sat next to him, his deep familiar voice filled with humor. "You would think the Council has nothing better to do than meddle in our love lives?"

Obi-Wan smiled at that. "It just seems to be ill-timed, that's all. They knew we were planning to be Life-Bonded, Force, we had to ask them for permission..."

"Permission that was granted, love," Qui-Gon's hand reached out to gently fondle Obi-Wan's hair, a familiar gesture since Qui-Gon had been doing it since his padawan was a boy. He could not suddenly stop doing it now. "Perhaps they are merely sending us where the Force needs us to be."

Obi-Wan smiled up at him, taking in that gentle blue-eyed gaze within that familiar face. "I wish I had your certainty."

Qui-Gon chuckled softly, reaching out to clasp Obi-Wan between his arms, "You'll acquire it in time, you know."

"Then we'll infuriate the council together," Obi-Wan teased gently, reaching forward to nuzzle the soft yet prickly beard with his nose.

"Yes..." Qui-Gon murmured, though it was more of a moan, as he reached to capture Obi-Wan's lips with his own.

Obi-Wan felt he could drown in that kiss, feeling himself devoured by the force and power that was Qui-Gon Jinn. He allowed himself to be nipped and suckled, falling back against the couch, squirming teasingly under his master's persistent touches.

How he loved to be touched by those hands, large and warm, just as capable of utmost gentleness as they were of battle. "Envelop me,"

Obi-Wan gasped, as Qui-Gon nuzzled his throat, hands going to briskly remove his tunics.

"Obi-love," Qui-Gon murmured, "the transport,"

"Fuck the transport," Obi-Wan moaned, arching up his body, trying to grind his erection against that of the man above him. Qui-Gon pushed him down gently, a chuckle at his lips.

"We'll make this quick then," he teased, tonguing down Obi-Wan's chest, getting caught in the slight indentation of his padawan's navel, which he sucked at gently.

Obi-Wan groaned again, the touch was too close to where he needed it to be so desperately.

"Please," he begged, writhing in ecstasy as Qui-Gon slowly undid the front of his leggings, stroking Obi-Wan's waist before he pushed the pants far enough down to reveal Obi-Wan's glistening sex. Tentatively, he reached forward and licked the tip, just to hear Obi- Wan growl above him. "Please!" Obi-Wan cried again.

Not enough time to do this right, Qui-Gon thought sadly, before reaching down and simply swallowing Obi-Wan's cock. He held the boy's bucking hips down against the couch, taking his time, nipping, licking and swallowing, undulating his throat to provide just the right sensation for Obi-Wan. He knew what the younger man liked, and did his best to drive his padawan mad with pleasure.

"Qui!" Obi-Wan gave one last strangled shout, before he succumbed to the sensations at his groin, coming in spurts down Qui-Gon's throat.

Qui-Gon chuckled again, creeping up Obi-Wan's body with just as much care as he had taken creeping down, moving to capture Obi-Wan's swollen lips with his own, to give Obi-Wan the bitter/sweet taste of himself.

"Oh Qui," Obi-Wan murmured again, clearly not capable of coherent speech.

"Love you too, my own," Qui-Gon murmured, reaching up to stroke the sweat slicked hair. "You have just enough time to shower before we have to meet our transport."

Obi-Wan frowned up at him, his blue-green eyes still a bit glazed with passion, "But what about you?"

"You can take care of that on the ship." Qui-Gon teased, his words a promise that went straight to Obi-Wan's groin. The padawan moaned, knowing they didn't have much more time.

"I will get you back for that!" Obi-Wan promised as Qui-Gon allowed him to roll off the couch.

"I look forward to it!" Qui-Gon laughed, straightening his tunics as he stood. Force, Obi-Wan looked so incredible right now, clothes disarrayed, hair tousled with sweat and his cheeks flushed with the remnants of their passion. It took all his willpower to rein in his lusts.

It could wait for the ship, Old Man, he told himself sternly, watching as Obi-Wan strutted across the room, giving his master a teasing glare before he ducked into the 'fresher. He smiled, feeling his love for Obi-Wan overwhelm him just before he gently tempered the feelings. It would not do for a Jedi master to be overwhelmed by love, though at times, he thought Obi-Wan could do that to him with just a glance.

He was glad they would be Bonded when they returned to Coruscant.

Then he and his padawan would truly be one in being, body and mind synced so completely as to be indistinguishable in the Force. Obi-Wan would finally belong to him, completely and eternally.

They arrived on Glashepre 26.4 hours after they set off from Coruscant, both slightly flushed from exertions that would be better suited for their honeymoon. Once they arrived on planet, they would refrain from sex, for a number of reasons, but most importantly to Qui-Gon was that he didn't want any potential enemies knowing just how important Obi-Wan was.

Better to keep his padawan away from any danger he could realistically prevent.

"So, what do you think holds up these negotiations, Master?" Obi-Wan asked politely as they made their way down the gangplank of the ship, not yet completely on planet. He had his hood up and hands hidden within the folds of his robe, mirroring the mystery of his master.

"The reason the Council sent us here, an outside force influencing the arbiters. Two weeks ago, both sides seemed intent on an agreeable settlement that was suddenly interrupted by illogical and uncharacteristic bickering."

"So this is an investigation, not merely a mediation," Obi-Wan murmured.

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered before they stepped forward to greet their hosts.

There were two of them, one a tall thin man, with tired looking brown eyes. The other was a woman, much younger than the other, with a more guarded look on her face. Obi-Wan took their measure carefully and concluded he should keep aware of the woman.

Qui-Gon introduced them, "Good eve, arbiters, I am Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The man nodded, "Thank you for coming. I am Telfon Dei, representing the Traders Union. Sera Geui here represents the Workers Association. We are the only two who could meet you."

"Really?" Qui-Gon asked dryly.

"The others have all been influenced," Sera explained, leading the three men out of the hangar and into the chill air outside.

Obi-Wan clutched his robe tighter, but it did little good, the bitter winds searing right through him. He was relieved when they finally reached shelter, the building where the negotiations were taking place. He had read that the Glashepren winters were cold, but he hadn't imagined the sheer rawness that bit into his bones. He was glad most of their time would be spent inside.

"Before we show you to your accommodations, we were hoping you could look at the meeting room." Telfon explained. He kept looking about nervously, clearly afraid they were being observed. "The others all think you are here to help negotiate. Your presence was strongly discouraged. It took all my skill and clout to get you here at all."

"What exactly is going on?" Obi-Wan asked softly, picking up on the current of fear that ran through both of their hosts. Perhaps they were not as unaffected by this "influence" as they seemed.

Sera answered. "Simply this, we would spend days to reach a perfect arrangement. Everyone seemed to agree to the terms, then the next day, the very person who proposed the agreement would suddenly dissent and exclaim it's not fair to his faction."

"This has been going on for several months now. At first I merely put it down to perversity of personality." Telfon spoke up. "But then things began to change. People I knew well for years would suddenly do something out of character...Lance Gurman nearly struck his wife in public! I assure you, he is certainly not a man who would do such a thing."

"So these changes," Qui-Gon mused, obviously thinking aloud, "have usually involved unreasonable anger or aggression?"

"That's correct," Telfon agreed.

"Master, you don't think...?" Obi-Wan began, but didn't finish. He knew Qui-Gon guessed what he was about to say. Through the training bond, he could sense his master's disquiet. This entire situation stank of the Dark Side, using the baser side of emotion. And there were few possibilities that brought up.

"May we see the meeting room?" Qui-Gon asked politely, ignoring his padawan for the moment, though he briefly sent reassurance to Obi-Wan through their bond.

"Of course," Sera led them to a lift, and then down a bare corridor to a room half hidden behind a set of larger wall hangings.

The closer they got to the room, the more the tension roiled in Obi- Wan's gut. He could feel something as they got closer, something definitely not of the Light. "Master, I can't go in there," he murmured softly, stopping just outside the doorway. The sense of just wrongness pervaded his being he knew he couldn't move another step inside that room.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Wait here." He entered the room, staying inside long enough for Obi-Wan's heart to catch in his chest. Then, his master quickly emerged from the doorway. He nodded to their hosts, "I would say your suspicions are correct." He told them neutrally, wary of observation.

It was much later when they were escorted to a hotel on the edge of the city, the accommodations so thoughtfully provided for them. Obi- Wan wondered that they were given only one room to share, with only one large bed. He didn't think his relationship with Qui-Gon was widely known. Normally he would chalk it off to simple mismanagement or lack of room, though this time he knew the hotel had larger suites available.

"Don't brood," Qui-Gon reprimanded gently. "We need to plan our next move." He began to pace worriedly. "I will attend the session tomorrow morning, go with the cover of assisting the negotiations. You must stay behind."

"I don't really have a choice," Obi-Wan winced as he toed out of his boots, relishing the feel of the soft carpet beneath his feet. "You couldn't pay me to get near that room again."

"I fear your Light prevents you from getting so close to the Dark," Qui-Gon said fondly, but Obi-Wan ducked his head at the implication there, that Qui-Gon was more attuned to darkness than he. And he knew why, knew that reason was as simple as a name that could never be uttered in his master's presence. One name, of his predecessor, the one who had gone to the dark long before Obi-Wan took padawan's vows.

"Do you think it's..." Obi-Wan began, but he couldn't complete the sentence, couldn't utter that one name that stood between them. "Some one or some force that we know?" he finished lamely, hiding from that name.

Qui-Gon frowned, paused in his disrobing. "We need to look at who would have the most to gain here. Glashepre is on the mining circuit, these negotiations are key in keeping this planet in the market. Who would benefit if these talks fail?" Qui-Gon asked the question.

"And who would have the ability to use the Force in such a way?" Obi- Wan asked the corollary. He couldn't say yet, without more evidence. "I will do the 'research' while you're in session tomorrow."

"Good love," Qui-Gon smiled again, a bit of the tension gone from his face. Abruptly, he moved across the room and kissed Obi-Wan tenderly. "I'm going to get a shower before bed, care to join me?"

Obi-Wan laughed and held out his hands, allowing himself to be led to the 'fresher.

Qui-Gon left very early the next morning, brushing a gentle kiss on his still sleeping padawan. Obi-Wan growled pleasantly at him before burrowing back into the still warm covers. After a few moments, he shook himself out of sleep. He could never really get comfortable without Qui-Gon there at his side.

Shower, and a quick cup of tea readied him for the day. Still in a good mood from last night's surprising bout of lovemaking in the shower, he sat at the room's computer terminal, feeling more chipper than he usually did in the mornings. He keyed in his Jedi code, and moved his hands across the panel, accessing the travel records for Glashepre for the past few months.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he was doing it, looking suspiciously for that one name that haunted his nightmares. But there was no real reason for it. There could be dozens of untrained Force ensitives in the galaxy, using their powers for ill rather than good. He separated the list to filter out the regulars and limited the time for when the trouble first began with the talks. He resolutely ignored the voice in the back of his mind that insisted the Dark Force user here had been trained. How else could he (or she!) manipulate mind and heart so well?

Only ten names came up that matched his criteria. And none of them matched the one he had condemned in his heart. Then, on impulse, he pulled up the organizations the names were affiliated with. And there it was, one simple damning word.

Offworld.

/His/ company. Still in operation, after all these years? He did a quick search and discovered Offworld Corporation was nearly bankrupt. The company made their profits by preying on weak planets, offering to shore up failing mining industries, but at a high cost.

Normally Glashepre was in no such danger, but by creating a situation where Offworld's help would be needed, the Corporation ensured itself employment.

Obi-Wan had an idea. He finished his tea quickly, then pulled on his robe, pulling up the hood. He needed to talk to the shipyard master.

"I can't really remember everyone who comes in here, Jedi. Most of us have perfectly ordinary memories." The shipyard master was a wizened old man named Geen, he spoke and stood with the air of a man who had spent most of his life in space. Obi-Wan guessed his current career was his retirement job, but couldn't be sure.

"I'm merely asking if you remembered anyone unusual. Perhaps someone coming in to do business, but without an itinerary. Or maybe someone who seemed just odd, unlikely to have come through your port." Obi-Wan asked politely.

"You were asking about Kassia Sossa," Geen growled.

That was the name on the passenger lists, yes, but Obi-Wan figured it to be a front. "I was, but you said you couldn't remember everyone who comes through here," he reminded pointedly.

Geen grunted. "I remember him. Looking for lodging, away from the city. Went to Lesly, down on Mason Street. She rents out cabins in the woods, usually for summer tourists. She mentioned to me how odd that this one was looking for one of her places, in the dead of winter."

This was good, better than he expected. "Can you tell me where he's staying?" Obi-Wan asked eagerly.

"That would be a bit unethical, wouldn't it? I don't even know what this guy's supposedly done." Geen eyed him warily.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Obi-Wan waved his hand subtly, "No one will know if you tell me."

"But it shouldn't really be a problem, I mean, who's gonna know I'm the one who told you? He's staying at Cabin 15, just on the end of the campground, up the side of the mountain."

"Thank you, my friend, you've certainly been of great help to me." Obi-Wan smiled, then let himself out of the office. Now, what should be his next move? He picked up his commlink to call Qui-Gon, but got an 'unavailable' beep. Perhaps his master had shut the device off for the talks? He frowned, it wasn't like Qui-Gon.

Even so, if he could get this taken care of by himself...well, it would save Qui-Gon some grief.

Transport was easy enough to acquire, a small all-terrain vehicle that could make it up the mountain even in the dead of winter. The same woman, Lesly, who rented the cabins, rented the vehicles, and she had already lent one out to the cabin's current occupant.

Obi-Wan left a brief message for his master before heading out of the city, up the rocky pathway of the mountain. The vehicle's heating system kept him warm for the moment, but he dreaded the confrontation in the cold. A confrontation that would take place all too soon.

He paused the vehicle in mid motion, and took a few centering breaths. He would not rush into this, nor enter battle with unquiet mind and heart. Obi-Wan concentrated on the love he felt for Qui-Gon, the power and strength of it warming his heart, giving him the ability to find his center, to shore up his defenses against whatever he should find up the side of this mountain.

Too sudden, the blaster shot across the hood, stopping the vehicle in its tracks. He keyed open the door, then leapt out, his saber lit and ready.

"Did you think I could not sense your presence, Jedi? So noble, so full of hated light?"

It was him. Obi-Wan's heart tightened, despite his earlier caution. The one man he had feared to encounter for so long.

Xanatos leered at him, he had the high ground, a ledge that kept him above Obi-Wan's eye level. He hadn't changed much since Obi-Wan had last seen him, perhaps 10 years ago now. He still looked as powerfully arrogant as ever, his long black hair streaming past his shoulders, a stark contrast against the snow white clothes that had hidden him from view. And those piercing blue eyes, they were just the same, gazing intensely at the younger man. Xanatos tucked the blaster in his belt and drew out his lightsaber, which glowed an unhealthy shade of lavender.

"You'd fight me fairly?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised.

"Dear Jedi, who said anything about fair?" and then he was off, leaping off the ledge nearly too quick for Obi-Wan, who barely brought his blade up in time. Their dance was deadly, yet it ached with familiarity. They both had been trained by Qui-Gon, both influenced by the tall sweeping Jedi master.

But Xanatos fought in Darkness, countering Obi-Wan's attacks in new and unexpected ways. One strike caught the Padawan's saber, flipping it back and over Obi-Wan's head.

"Now, you are at my mercy," Xanatos taunted, holding his blade at Obi- Wan's neck.

Obi-Wan could feel the sizzling heat at his neck, almost unbearable in the frigid cold. "Just do me one favor," he pleaded, "Stop it with the cliches!" He kicked out with one leg, putting Xanatos off balance, then leapt, back flipping until he was a good distance away, and called his lightsaber to hand. "I'm not that easy." He grinned at the older man.

A sudden rumbling noise caught him off guard and he sensed the warning in the Force a moment too late. He jumped back, knowing he could not avoid the power of the avalanche, but could move to safety, trusting the Force to guide his movements.

For a moment he thought he would die, the white blindness covering all of him. The snow continued to tumble over him, and past him, as if he was a mere tree or rock. After a while it all was silent. Obi- Wan couldn't move at first and nearly panicked. He was solidly trapped, buried alive in the coldest of snow. Then he calmed himself, difficult when he couldn't breathe, but possible. He brought the force to bear, along with his lightsaber, and cut through the snow, coming up for air with a great gasping noise.

The entire landscape was white and all he could see were the tops of trees too high to be lost under the snow's wrath. Where was Xanatos?

A great wheezing noise from behind him caused him to turn around. There! Xanatos had apparently been dragged farther than he, and came to rest at the bottom of a tree. Obi-Wan carefully crawled across the snow, calling on the Force to support himself. When he reached Xanatos, he gasped.

A tree branch had impaled itself through the older man's chest. Xanatos gurgled helplessly, blood pooling at the corner of his mouth.

"Force," Obi-Wan murmured, as he reached for his commlink. Perhaps if he could get help in time, modern medicine would save him. The commlink was gone, torn from his belt along with most of his pouches. His lightsaber had apparently only been saved by the virtue of being held in his hand.

A grasp at his wrist caught him off guard, "Kill me." Xanatos rasped.

Obi-Wan drew back, startled.

It would be so easy, he knew, to let this man die, to finally ensure that this dark rival would never come between he and his master ever again.

But he was a Jedi, sworn to serve the Light, and as long as Xanatos lived, there was a possibility he could be redeemed. To deny him that chance would be to turn to the dark himself.

"Be still," Obi-Wan ordered, reaching forward to pull the branch from Xanatos's chest. He tried not to take perverse pleasure in hearing the man scream. But it was necessary, if he was to heal the wound, it needed to be free of obstruction. He moved, placing his hands over the wound, feeding Force into the man before him.

Not surprisingly, he encountered Darkness, in deep black clouds that swirled about Xanatos's heart. He countered with his own, inner Light, chasing away the clouds, calling forth the healing.

But it wasn't enough, Obi-Wan wasn't a healer, and his skills didn't lend himself to his. He had to try harder, he thought, calling on that inner reserve of strength once more, that place deep in his heart where he carried Qui-Gon's love. The power crested, then swelled, overwhelming him and the man he tried to heal.

It burned them with searing white agony, the Force judging them both, and binding them together. There could be only one.

And then Obi-Wan knew only darkness.

"Wake up, hey,"

Obi-Wan growled, Qui knew better than to wake him when he was so tired. He never had been a morning person. He tried to go back to sleep, but something was wrong. He didn't feel quite /right/ and as he came awake fully, he realized why. There was someone else in his head, someone not exactly welcome.

He opened his eyes, gazing into a pair of uniquely blue ones. Xanatos. Then, he realized, he could see his own eyes, blue-green, with a shade of panicky gold within them. He groaned and closed his eyes once more, trying to gain a sense of equilibrium. He was in a bed, a soft bed. Obi-Wan clutched the sheets, trying to gain some sense of purchase. Briefly, he hoped this was some sort of horrible nightmare.

"No, I'm afraid it's quite real, you damn fool." Xanatos snapped at him. "This is why they train you for Healing in the Temple. So someone doesn't go and accidentally life-bond themselves to a patient."

Lifebond, oh Force. "Where are we?" he managed, opening his eyes again, to thankfully clear vision.

Even as he asked the question, he knew, could read Xan's memories, how he had awoken, fully healed from his injury. Xanatos had then carried Obi-Wan to the cabin he had rented, which fortunately had not been completely buried in the avalanche.

"Force," Obi-Wan said again, taking in the small, one room cabin. He rested on the only bed, Xanatos sitting on the edge and looking at him with an odd expression on his face. "What now?"

"It can't be undone, you know." Xanatos continued, his voice unusually even, as if they were merely talking about the weather.

"I /know/ that!" Obi-Wan cried, slamming his fist against the bed, catching his fingers against the headboard. Xanatos winced, as if his own fingers had been scraped. "What now?"

The older man sighed. "Now, I do what I've been wanting to do since I dragged you in here." He leaned forward and touched his lips to Obi- Wan's. The padawan wanted to move, to lash out, to deny this man his body. But something welled up inside of him, desire, sweeping through him and pooling in his groin.

"What?" he murmured, as Xanatos pulled away slightly from the kiss.

"Part of the bond," his voice was thick with passion, his eyelids heavy. "Need you."

"I...oh," Obi-Wan arched up into that expert touch, allowing Xanatos to lead him along the paths of passion, to a heat and pinnacle he had only experienced with one other.

Xan's hands were smooth, so smooth for someone who apparently kept up his lightsaber training. The thought was fleeting, as those hands snaked up Obi-Wan's inner tunic, the outer had apparently been removed when he had been placed on the bed. His flesh was overheated, and he knew only this man could cool the fire in his blood.

His nipples were grasped and pulled, and Obi-Wan arched into the touch, pleasure gathering in his groin.

"Shh," Xan murmured, his hands sliding to undo the laces on Obi-Wan's leggings.

Obi-Wan hadn't even realized he was begging, gasping out "oh," and "please." at each caress or tug. His hands flew to Xan's waistband, undoing the buckles and pulling out the older man's impressive length.

"Turn over," Xan murmured, his voice husky, as he positioned Obi-Wan on his hands and knees, pulling off the padawan's leggings as he did so.

It was hot and hard and fast and exactly what Obi-Wan needed. He felt a tide crest within him as he raced towards his climax. "Oh, yes!" he moaned, spilling his release onto the sheets beneath him. Xan groaned and filled his younger lover at the exact same moment.

Obi-Wan fell to the sheets, exhausted, feeling both sated and guilty. Qui-Gon, he thought mournfully, it should have been you. And his heart mourned for that lost half of his soul.

It was while Xanatos slept, sweaty and incoherent, that Obi-Wan tried to write his letter. Eventually, he threw down the stylus, knowing he would need to see Qui-Gon in person, to explain what had happened.

Xan stirred fitfully, almost as if Obi-Wan's turmoil could be felt even in sleep. He opened one eye, to gaze at his new lover, who sat at the desk, dressed only in his outer tunic.

Obi-Wan groaned at the sudden wash of emotion and thought. "It's easier when you sleep, you know. I'm almost me then."

"I know." Xan said quietly. For him too. He grieved for Obi-Wan's sorrow, the padawan's new pain combining with his old pain. Xan had never quite gotten over Qui-Gon either, and the dual pains played on each other, twin aches in each heart.

"I have to speak to him, alone." Obi-Wan said, his voice uncertain, as if daring to be forbidden.

"That's probably best." Xan agreed.

"I'll be back," he told him, dressing quickly. Xanatos' vehicle was still in working condition, kept from much of the snow by its location, hidden half behind the cabin. Obi-Wan settled into it and rocketed down the mountain pass.

"You can't be serious!" Qui-Gon had felt it, had felt his own connection to his padawan weaken and then snap as the force of something more powerful than a mere training bond had overtaken him. He had nearly panicked then, tried to reach Obi-Wan on his commlink, to no avail. The local authorities had just been about to mount a search for the lost padawan when Obi-Wan rode into the city.

Now what Obi-Wan was telling him was beyond his comprehension. How had his lovely Obi-Wan, the brightest part in his life, bonded himself to such a creature as Xanatos? The thought was simply unthinkable, that the specter of his past should suddenly return and take from him the one person that mattered the most.

"The bond can be dissolved Obi-Wan, it was an accident." But who was he trying to convince, Obi-Wan or himself?

"I'm sorry, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan murmured. "You know it's impossible. If you even try, we'll die."

"We don't know that for sure!" the Jedi master protested, trying desperately to hang onto his love, his /life./

"I know it." Obi-Wan sighed. He pulled his lightsaber from his belt and handed it to his master.

Qui-Gon refused to take it.

"You know I can't keep it. I won't be a renegade and I can't complete my training." Obi-Wan said simply, his tone more even and careful that Qui-Gon would have given him credit for.

"How can you do it? Stay bound to a man who has killed and enslaved so many?" Qui-Gon pressed, hoping to sway his padawan from this course of action.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "You know we are different now. I'm not merely me any more. And maybe I understand a little, what it was like for him, to have felt so out of control his entire life, his training at your hands so stifling...perhaps he could not help but try, just a little, to see what it would be like, to take control for himself for once."

"You can't condone his darkness. That's not you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon tried one last time.

And then Obi-Wan smiled at him, a smile so sad and so alien to this young face. "The darkness is different now, tempered. Balanced. As I said, we are different now." He moved to the bed in the hotel room, the one they had shared the night before. Obi-Wan placed his lightsaber there, then moved to his bags, which he had packed before this argument had begun. In doing so, his braid swayed past his shoulder and he stared at it in shock. Once again, he had gotten himself so wrapped up in Xan, he had forgotten his braid was still intact, unshorn.

Ignoring it for now, he lifted the bags and moved before his master. "Goodbye, Qui-Gon." He touched his hand to Qui-Gon's cheek briefly, before turning to go.

"Goodbye Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured, having caught Obi-Wan's startled glance at his own hair. He wondered if he should even allow himself to hope. He knew he would never let this rest, never let what was rightfully his, go.

End