The Story Of A Life

by Pumpkin (apumpkin@rogers.com)

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Q/O

Summary: The title says it all, from birth to death, the story of a life.

Feedback: is always treasured, lay it on me.

Disclaimer: Mine they are not, dream a girl can

The circle of life is the same for all, regardless of species, origin or planet. Birth. Life. Death. But while some circles are small and transect only a few others, some are large, thick, and touch upon the circles of countless others.

A baby boy was born to her and Nata cried with joy as she held him in her arms, the little fingers reaching for her. Sunti, the old midwife, stood by the door, watching with dark, sad eyes. The birth had been easy, far easier than it should have been for a first time mother with such a large child. And already he was reaching for her, eyes bright and alert, unafraid of the storm that raged madly outside. Such children were not born to the people and if they were.... Someone would come before long and take him away and Nata would be alone and childless - no man would lie with her again only to risk the child being taken. Sunti had seen it before, once when she was still a child, many, many long seasons past. The boy child would not spend two winters in their care, she was sure of it.

The hot summer ran into brusque fall and the child grew, suckling at his mother's breast eagerly. He quickly became a good luck charm, all those he touched feeling their spirits eased. Winter came and Nata and the boy who she still had not named beyond Ki-Gy-Gin, boy of my heart, wanted for nothing. Everyone wanted to be a part of his life, to feel his gentle touch brighten their careworn lives.

Bright spring brought strangers to them and Sunti knew it was time. Nata too, it seemed, had anticipated their arrival and despite her youth bravely met the strange visitors and handed the boy of her heart to them with a bow and a blessing. When the others realised what she was doing they rushed the strangers, intent on taking Ki-Gy- Gin back. If Nata did not want her son there were plenty who would take him as their own.

The boy child cried when they the villagers touched him and the feeling of well-being disappeared, leaving in its wake fear and unhappiness, the blessing become a curse. The people retreated, empty- handed and suspicious, watching from the safety of the trees as Nata wrapped the boy in a blanket she had made before his birth and handed him back to the strangers. One of them touched her head with an odd, three-fingered hand as she knelt before them, bestowing a blessing upon her.

Nata watched them go and continued her vigil long after their strange flying machine had vanished from the sky. She never saw her Ki-Gy- Gin again, but her heart always seemed to be full of him.

Lien-Tze, master of the crèche, brought the new child to the West Garden and placed him in the bow of the large kitsu tree. The dark, gnarled braches formed a cradle that tenderly held the babe in safety. He gurgled and his fingers moved over the rough surface of the bark. Lien-Tze swept a gentle caress over his cheek and stepped back.

Four Jedi made their way to the Garden, drawn to the ancient kitsu tree and the boy held safely within its branches. Master Hiriau oversaw the initiates and whenever a new child entered their midst he would be called to witness the naming. Master Yaddle had been among the group to have discovered the child and she was drawn to participate in the ceremony, to see this particular loop of discovery and welcome to the temple closed. Oppo Rancisis was a member of the council; one of their ranks always felt the call to attend a naming. A great strategist, he came to see the child, looking for signs that would predict the boy's future as warrior, negotiator, defender of the weak.

The fourth master attended most namings. The eldest living among them, it was Master Yoda's duty and privilege to welcome each newcomer to the temple and to give them their Jedi name.

Inclining their heads, the four masters greeted each other before turning to face the babe that lay quiet and attentive in the bower created by the tree. Master Yoda stepped forward, leaning in to gaze into the wide blue eyes. The child burbled with delight and one hand reached up and, with surprising strength, grasped one of Yoda's ears, tugging ungently. The little master shrieked in pained surprise and stepped back, rubbing the offended ear.

"Hrmph. Strong boy he is," declared the master. "Qui-Gon Jinn, meaning blessing in the Force, is he named."

Each master moved forward to touch the child's head, pressing gently. "Welcome, Qui-Gon Jinn," they each murmured, the Force sealing their welcome and the name.

They drifted away as they had come, only Yoda remained, watching the bright blue eyes watch him in turn.

"Linked we are, Qui-Gon Jinn," he told the child, the three-clawed hand gently pressing his Force blessing against the boy's temple.

When Master Lien-Tze returned, he found the old master still there and the babe still awake; the two staring at each other as if they knew their lives were twined together in the Force. That stare would be repeated throughout Qui-Gon's life, in love, in anger, in amusement, but always with caring.

Qui-Gon grew quickly, in stature and in ability. His joy in the Living Force translated to the crèche finding itself over-flowing with greenery, while the healers became used to animals of all description and size brought to them by the boy for healing. It was not unusual to find him running through the halls, arms full of something fury. It was however, unusual to find his own bed slept in, instead the masters would find him asleep in the bed of a fractious baby or troublesome toddler, his arms wrapped around the child, both wearing peaceful, innocent looks.

He was neither overly popular nor despised among the other initiates, though there was some reserve on their part. He was popular with the masters, they fussed over him and asked him to help with the younger initiates on a regular basis. So while he never expressed a feeling of superiority over his fellows, it was assigned to him by those jealous of his prowess and his popularity with their teachers.

Aren 'Sil, Jedi temple work co-ordinator, rubbed his forehead as Quartermaster Binot continued to bellow. Lien-Tze sat next to him, listening placidly.

"The halls will soon be overrun with rats," complained Binot, "and then you lot will blame me. For the love of Zerntz, I've seen the boy bringing them to the healers myself!"

"The boy is very sensitive to all living things," explained Lien-Tze. "He cannot bear their pain."

"They're rats."

"Still, they are living beings, they can be felt through the Force."

"Well they're living off my wares and if you don't do something to stop it, I'll quit."

"Solution, I have." A new voice came from the door and all turned to see Master Yoda with Qui-Gon, at six already taller than the small Jedi, behind him. "Trap them alive and Qui-Gon will dispose of them at the zoo."

"I suppose I can live with that," grumbled the quartermaster. "As long as I don't have to go anywhere near them and the zoo'll have them."

"Food for many different species they will be."

"You mean they're going to be eaten by snakes and rancors and the like? Why not just let me kill 'em?"

"It's different," said Qui-Gon. "You just kill them because you don't like them, the animals kill them to eat. There's a purpose."

Binot raised his hands, palms out. "I don't really care, as long as I don't find any in my goods."

"Thank you, sir," said Qui-Gon earnestly, shaking the quartermaster's hand. Binot made a grumbling reply, his heart not really in the complaining though; he felt better than he had in a long time and maybe this wasn't such a bad solution. By the time he reached the storeroom, he was whistling a jaunty tune.

At eight, Qui-Gon was a tall, slender youth with a serious face, mitigated by a wide, frequent smile. His favourite place in the whole of the temple was the South Garden with its trees and flowers and bushes and plants from the whole universe, brought together here and allowed to run free. The South Garden sang to him through the Living Force; it promised him love and passion and long life. He would lie in the long grasses and look up to the sky through the rich canopy of leaves and revel in his mere existence. On this day, however, Qui-Gon found himself drawn to the East Garden.

The East Garden was far more popular, with its pathways and ponds, its bridges and benches. His presence caused no stir, it was here the initiates were brought to play and swim. A pair of wookies were flying gaily painted kites in the light breeze and they waved at him, their growling a loud greeting. They hoped he would join them, brighten their day with his generous presence. He waved back, but continued on, moving deeper into the garden.

It grew quieter the further in he went, the path turning from interlocking stonework to worn dirt. Here and there he passed by small clusters of rocks, flowers and sand and wooden gazebos with ivy and eoravine growing around them. In many of these were Jedi, always in pairs -masters and padawans learning together, growing closer in the Force.

Deeper into the garden he moved, slowly circling the lake that was the centrepiece of the garden. He was nearly at the midway point around it when he happened upon a bench where Master Yoda was sitting, watching as storm birds landed and took off, bright flashes of light against the shinning water. The old Jedi was waiting for him.

Qui-Gon stopped by the seat and turned to watch the birds. The sound of cicadas filled the air, their song occasionally broken by the deep throated call of a bull frog or the warble of a small bird searching for its mate.

"Too tall you are," grumbled Master Yoda. "Sit."

Qui-Gon did, turning to look at the ancient master. "This is why I came here, isn't it?" he asked. A three-fingered claw touched him gently on the cheek.

"Called you were."

Qui-Gon nodded.

"Called I was too. A new padawan to take."

"Me," said Qui-Gon, knowing the truth of it, even as he spoke the word. He watched as Master Yoda's ears moved forward and the master smiled at him, nodding.

"Strong is the Force in you Qui-Gon Jinn and strong the call was for me to take you as my apprentice." They looked at each other, feeling the rightness of what they were about to do.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, I take you as my padawan learner."

"Thank you, Master," replied the boy, sealing their partnership as thousands had done in the past in these very gardens.

Qui-Gon turned back to the lake, watching the colour of the water change as the sun moved across the sky.

Qui-Gon's first mission with his master found them at the funeral for the King of Alderaan. Qui-Gon remained near his master, face solemn in the midst of the sadness that surrounded them. Many of the guests stood and made speeches before they lined up to pay their respects.

At the centre of it, in an ornate gown of darkest blue, relieved only by a garnet necklace and a diamond circlet in her hair, sat the queen. Speech after speech was made, dignitary upon dignitary went to her, bowing, speaking softly, but, if anything, she grew more melancholic.

When it was his master's turn to greet her, Qui-Gon stood dutifully at his side, a single step behind the little Jedi he towered over. But once Master Yoda had said his piece, Qui-Gon was concerned; even his master's words had not touched the Queen and she was as sad as ever. Master Yoda moved slowly away and Qui-Gon began to follow. He stopped before he'd gone two steps and looked back, seeing the Queen in her blanket of pain and loneliness, seeing the line of fancy beings waiting to speak to her for their own benefit.

"Padawan," called his master.

"Just a minute," he answered and then returned to the Queen's side. The soft gasp that travelled around the room barely registered as he knelt at the queen's side. He took her hand in his own. "He is still with you, Your Majesty. If he is in your heart, he is always near."

A genuine smile lit her face and the queen cupped his cheek. "Thank you, dear boy."

He bowed and went to once again join his master, aware of the glares directed at him from various quarters, though he could feel a lift in the heavy pall that sat over the Queen.

"Did I do something wrong, Master?" he asked Master Yoda as they left the room.

"Exactly right you did."

"Then why were people upset?"

"Followed your heart you did, not protocol."

"The protocol didn't seem to be making the queen feel any better."

Yoda cackled and chuffed and Qui-Gon smiled, beginning to recognize the sound as approval.

Qui-Gon grew rapidly, both in stature and in the Force. Already towering over his diminutive master when he first became a padawan, by the time he was twelve he had nearly accomplished his full growth. The sight of the tall, gangly youth, shoulders hunched as he walked, listening to the small master at his side was an amusing sight that soon became familiar.

In the gardens or in their rooms, Qui-Gon would fold his legs and sit next to his master's seat, which usually succeeded in bringing them eye to eye.

Having become a padawan early isolated him from both the initiates who were his agemates and the padawans who were older. But his big heart and quiet demeanour continued to make him popular among the younger initiates and the masters and knights who were stationed at the temple in permanent positions.

As his voice grew deeper and his spare frame grew broader, Qui-Gon became more aware of both is isolation among his peers, and his popularity among those outside his peer group. As he and Master Yoda began to travel, missions sending them all over the galaxy, he began to understand that he was different; not just in the way the Jedi were different than others, but unique among the Jedi too. Between his own advanced abilities within the Force and his famous master he was set apart within a group of people already considered exceptional.

Though he had many friends, his quiet manner and contagious joy in life guaranteed that there were few people to whom he felt close. His master was the exception. Master Yoda's presence had been a constant in his life for as long as he could remember.

The quarters Qui-Gon shared with Master Yoda were full of living things. Plants of all sizes, shapes and colour, the predominant among them green, filled the space. Bright green leaves that glittered like jewels and tiny dark green leaves that blanketed floors and walls.

Master Yoda kept the environmental controls set to warm and damp, most of his padawans had complained and finally moved into their own quarters adjacent to the small master's. Qui-Gon's only complaint was the stature of most of the furniture, but other than his own bed and a single table and chair, Yoda insisted he made do with the accommodations as they were or move out. Qui-Gon learned to made do; he enjoyed the atmosphere of his master's rooms, both he and the plants flourishing from their relationship. As a result of his own dislike of constantly bending and stooping for such simple tasks as cooking, he learned to do everything through Force manipulation.

Yoda was patient as he learned. Broken crockery was replaced without comment, the same way overcooked greens and burnt fronds were consumed. With time the dishes became safe and the meals edible.

Where the master's patience wore thin was with his padawan's predilection for bringing home every injured mammal, reptile or bird that he found. The problem, as Yoda saw it, was not the bringing home and tending of the injured animals, but the fact that Qui-Gon would keep them as pets once they were well. The issue came to a head the day the squirot ate the roots of Master Yoda's dagoban water plant.

"From my home planet that was," grumped the small figure.

"I'm sorry, Master. We can send for another one, or even make the trip ourselves."

"Bah, older than me was that vine," Yoda opened his hands and several small sticks and broken leaves fell from them. "Nothing is left of it."

"The squirot was hungry," replied Qui-Gon softly.

"I know what the problem is. Banished are your pets."

"Master!"

"Find them homes you will."

"I can't possibly find enough homes for all of them, especially the tigratta and the miniature rancor."

The little master's ears moved forward and his nose twitched. He sat back and waved his clawed hand. "Small I am, but share my bed with these creatures I will not! Use the quarters next door, you may."

"Thank you, Master," said Qui-Gon, giving the diminutive figure a hug.

"But other homes you must try to find." His padawan's good humour and smile were contagious and even Yoda found he could not remain grumpy in the boy' presence, though long practice hid that from all but those who knew him well. Like his padawan.

At nineteen Qui-Gon was an impressive figure; tall, confident, kind. He followed his own path, or rather, the path he saw the Living Force had laid out for him. No longer in awe of his master, time and proximity having cured him of that, he nonetheless respected and loved his teacher. Which didn't stop him from arguing with that most revered Jedi.

"Two paths a Jedi must follow. Strong in the Living Force you are, Qui-Gon, but what of the future, hrm?"

"The here and now is what is important, Master. We cannot change the future by living in it, we can only affect it by what we do in the moment." It was an old argument, one that Qui-Gon suspected they would never find agreement on.

"Aware of the future you must be if you are to make the moment have import."

"Every moment has import, no matter how small. Even the most insignificant tinfly has a reason for living, a place in the universe."

"Yes, but we are only aware of that because we know its place in the universe. Without that knowledge how do we judge what action to take?"

"I listen to the Living Force, Master."

"And of the Unifying Force?"

"The Force is the Force; being able to see different outcomes in the future is not limited to the Unifying Force. The Living Force also knows."

"My experience, this is not."

"But it is mine, Master."

"How so? Explain."

"You know how I like to go to the South Garden and lie among the grasses and trees? It's like I'm surrounded by the Force there and it whispers to me," admitted Qui-Gon.

"Whispers? What says it?"

"Well, I can't always make it out, but if I'm very quiet and listen hard, but not too hard, it tells me I won't always be alone and that I won't die alone."

"Know you what it means?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, but it makes me feel good."

"Much to learn have you still. But teach you more I cannot."

"Master!" Qui-Gon exclaimed, shocked at the sudden turn of events. "We have disagreed before..."

"Not so upset you should be. Knighted I'm saying you will be."

"Oh. Oh! Do you really think I'm ready?" Most padawans trained much longer than he had with Master Yoda.

"Know you are. Not afraid to ask questions and you don't think you don't have anything more to learn. Knowledge of one's own ignorance the first step is."

"Will I pass my trials?"

"If pass them you could not, recommend this step I would not. Exist the trials do not to fail padawans. Exists they do to make you feel ready. Fine you will be." Master Yoda's three-fingered hand gently touched his knee and Qui-Gon smiled at his master, feeling reassured.

The North Garden had always puzzled Qui-Gon. To him, gardens were supposed to be green and alive, full of flourishing plant and flowers or trees and grasses. The North Garden boasted no more than a few flowers, pristine white lilies that matched the elegant marble tile that filled the space. Wide, curved stairs, also carved from white marble ended in a plain dais, large enough to hold a dozen or so chairs.

Today, two beings stood alone on the platform: a master and a padawan. The tiled floor below was filled with a large audience. While the taking of a padawan was a ritual generally performed in private, the raising of a padawan to knighthood was an occasion shared and celebrated by all. Even the members of the council were there, rejoicing the addition to their ranks.

Lien-Tze watched, remembering the baby and the boy he grew into. Yaddle and Rancisis also stood in the front row, remembering the babe they had welcomed into the temple. Rancisis had earmarked the boy to be his own padawan, had questioned Yoda when the ancient master had taken Qui-Gon as padawan as the boy was destined to be one of their great warrior diplomats. He could see now the Force had chosen wisely, giving Qui-Gon the teacher he needed to develop his potential; now the man the baby had become would be more than just a warrior diplomat.

The assemblage grew quiet as Qui-Gon knelt, lowering his head so that his small master could reach his braid. Yoda's hand rested on his shoulder.

"Good padawan you have been. Great Jedi Knight you will be." He cut the braid cleanly with a small blade and placed the plait of hair into Qui-Gon's palm. They held the braid between them, looking into each other's eyes.

"Passed your trials you have. Let all who see you know -Jedi Knight are you now."

"Thank you, Master. I will endeavour to be a credit to your teaching."

"Do or do not. There is no endeavour."

Qui-Gon's smile was wide, unsurprised by his master's deviation from the ritual words, even less surprised by their content.

"Yes, my Master."

"Good. Stand - with the Jedi now you are joined."

Qui-Gon did, acknowledging the cheer from the crowd with a bow and a smile.

Qui-Gon strode along the high walkway that circled the main tower of the Jedi Temple. The howling winds and isolation suited his mood. Eight months as a Jedi Knight had brought him a number of missions to a number of worlds, but he was frustrated with the level of his involvement.

The council insisted on treating him like a half trained padawan, sending him on missions that consisted of little more than shaking a few hands and attending a banquet. He feared the elders that comprised the council saw him as little more than a boy playing dress up in Jedi robes and it stung.

Stopping, he grasped the cold metal railing in his hands and closed his eyes, breathing slowly and letting the frustration, hurt and anger go; they would not help him.

The wind died down, for no more than a second, but in that moment Qui- Gon heard the harsh gasp of a sob. Turning, he headed toward the sound.

Hidden in an alcove he found Ari-Aln Tas-Lin, a padawan several years his senior. She flushed at being caught crying and wiped her black eyes with the backs of her purple hands.

"What's wrong," asked Qui-Gon, stepping out of the wind to join her in her the small space behind an abutment.

"Master Yasem is dead," she answered, shoulders shaking. "I know there is no death, there is only the Force, so please don't say it."

"I wasn't going to," he said softly. "I was going to suggest that my cloak was clean and dry and very absorbent if you wanted a shoulder to cry on."

Ari-Aln smiled at him through her tears and leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and dropped into a light meditation, focussing on strength and serenity, letting the calm feelings bleed from himself to her.

Finally, she pulled away. "Thank you, Qui-Gon."

"I'm glad I could help."

"You did," she said, touching his cheek. "Master Yasem was dying from old age, so it wasn't really a shock, but we thought we'd have enough time for me to complete my apprenticeship. Now I must find another master to take me on, but no one wants to train a padawan only months away from her trials!"

"I'll do it."

She looked up at him, black eyes wide, startled.

Qui-Gon was surprised himself, but the Force whispered around him, urging him to complete the words needed to seal the union. "Ari-Aln Tas-Lin, I take you as my padawan learner."

He held his hand out to her and she slowly took it. "Thank you, Master," she replied, the ritual words signalling her acceptance. "Now what?" she asked.

"First we get back inside before it rains," suggested Qui-Gon, pointing to the dark clouds that were hovering closer. "And then we go surprise a few people."

"Do you think they'll try to reverse our decision?"

Shaking his head, Qui-Gon answered, "I don't think they're going to be happy about it, but surely they can see it's the right thing to do."

"But you won't let them reverse it."

"No, I won't, it isn't their decision -it is the will of the Force."

The next day, Qui-Gon found himself in the familiar surroundings of Master Yoda's quarters. The warm, damp rooms were filled, as always, with living plants thriving in the humid conditions. He had been asked to come alone -his master quite obviously wanted to talk to him about his taking on a padawan older than himself. He himself found it unusual, would not doubt be calling it weird or strange, except that it had felt so right in the Force, and continued to do so.

"Worried, the council is."

"Master, it is the will of the Force, would you have me ignore what I know is right?"

"Anger the council you should not," advised Yoda.

"With all due respect, Master, the council seems out of touch with the Force."

"Padawan!"

"I am your padawan no longer - you recommended me for the trials and I passed them. You cut off my braid and welcomed me as a knight yourself. But the council continues to treat me as child in need of a master."

"Knight you may be, but young you are. The benefit of being your master the council has not."

"What difference does age matter, Master? I thought it was what one could do that counted. I can be a knight and go on missions, I can help Ari-Aln move from padawan to knight."

The wide eyes seemed to grow larger and the big ears twitched back, but Yoda was silent for a long moment. "Hrmpf," he finally groused. "Age matters not. Right you are. Knight I made you, knight you should be treated as."

"Thank you, Master," Qui-Gon replied softly, not realising how important his former master's approval had been until he had it.

He rose to go, but Yoda cleared his throat and Qui-Gon sat back into that one chair that was full size. "Was there something else, Master?"

"Talk there has been of the exact nature of your relationship with Padawan Ari-Aln."

"Master and Padawan," Qui-Gon replied, wondering where the old Jedi was going with this.

"Lovers, some say you must be."

Qui-Gon burst out laughing, genuine humour threading through his words. "Unless I lose at least a foot in height, dye my skin indigo and grow a fantail to wave about, she's not even going to look at me once when it comes to choosing a mate!"

Yoda's wheezing chuckled joined Qui-Gon's laughter.

Just over a year after his own knighting, Qui-Gon found himself once more on the dais in the North Garden.

The council had put away their protests and were present en masse to celebrate the raising of the new Knight to the order. Ari-Aln had passed her trials brilliantly. She knelt before him and Qui-Gon felt the small, but solid weight of the knife in his hand.

"You have been a good padawan; you will be a great Jedi Knight," he told her as he cut away the braid. Placing it in her palm, he held their hands together as he finished the ritual words. "You have passed your trials, let all who see you know that you are now a Jedi Knight."

"Thank you, Master, I will endeavour to be a credit to your teaching."

"Do or do not, there is no endeavour," said Qui-Gon, smiling at the murmur that went up as he broke with tradition, but followed in his own master's footsteps with those words.

"Yes, my Master," replied Ari-Aln, obsidian eyes twinkling up at him.

"Stand and join the Jedi," Qui-Gon told her, his smile widening as she did to the cheers of her fellow Jedi.

He felt the soft touch of the Force against him in the whisper of the wind; it felt good.

Becoming the master of a successful padawan seemed to have done the trick of proving Qui-Gon's ability where his own knighting had not. Slowly, the difficulty level of his missions increased and he began to distinguish himself as a great diplomat who would also defend the weak, the meek and the right when negotiations failed.

Eventually, he took another padawan, a young boy this time from the ranks of the initiates in whom he recognized his own youthful potential. For the third time in his life he took part in the simple ritual that bound a master and padawan, one to the other; and for the second time as the master.

Qui-Gon stood back to the cockpit of the Starclipper, watching as Telos grew smaller and smaller in the stern view port. It was as though he were leaving a part of himself behind and the Force around him swirled in unhappy eddies; it seemed oily, sticky and it wouldn't respond properly to his call.

He could feel all the good he'd wrought, all the people he'd ever touched with joy or happiness in the Force, come to naught; destroyed by the defection of a single man. His padawan had turned, and Qui- Gon was damned along with that youth, now forever lost to the Jedi.

With every passing moment it was as if the Force were moving further and further away from him. Qui-Gon had lost a child of the Jedi, somehow led him astray and he knew he would never be free of the stench of such grand failure. The Force had failed him; or perhaps, he thought, it would be more accurate to say that he had failed the Force.

Qui-Gon lay on the ground in the South Garden, the long grasses framing his view of the sky. He could feel the earth teeming with life and death and all that what was in between encompassed.

"Find you here I knew I would."

"Yes, Master," replied Qui-Gon, biting back his sigh.

"Always your favourite this Garden was."

"Yes, Master."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Yoda sat next to him, the ancient master fussing and grumbling until he finally stilled, large eyes locked onto Qui-Gon's.

"What says it today?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "It just whispers nonsense," he admitted.

"Cut off you are, from the Force," Yoda said, the words accompanied by the crack of his gimer stick against the ground.

Qui-Gon remained silent, neither condoning nor refuting the charge.

"Assurances the Force has given you in this garden. Remember, do you, Qui-Gon Jinn?"

"I am no longer worthy-"

"Bah," his master interrupted him. "Mistake you made. Mistakes we all make. Live with it we do, learn from it we must."

"You want me to take another padawan."

"Life, I want you for you," Yoda replied. "Given up you have. Dead you might as well be. Back you must come to the living."

"And you think risking another child to the dark side will accomplish that?"

"Push Xanatos you did not. Turned he might have sooner under another master's tutelage. Cared you did, your best you did."

"It wasn't good enough."

"Not good enough? Not good enough is you lying here, cut off from those around you, here but not." Yoda's voice had risen shrilly, but it quietened suddenly and then the old master admitted, in a soft, calm voice. "Miss you, I do."

The words resonated within Qui-Gon, and he felt his former master's sadness. He'd copped with the loss of his own padawan by shutting himself off, but in doing so had left his own master with a loss certainly as deep as his own. "I am sorry, Master," he said softly.

"Living you will rejoin, yes?"

"I will try, Master."

"Hrmpf."

But Qui-Gon raised his hand in warning, forestalling the nugget of wisdom about trying and doing that his master had been about to share. "You will have to accept that as my answer."

"Very well. Padawan you will take?"

"I'll meet them, see what the Force says."

Yoda made a face, but nodded. "Ask more, I cannot."

Qui-Gon stood at the entrance to the East Garden trying to clear his mind of his worry and doubts. He had actually started his search just outside the wing of the temple that housed the initiates, but had decided that to enter those halls was to announce that he was there to take a padawan and he did not wish to leave a trail of disappointed children in his wake when he chose none.

So he had returned to the East Garden, that manicured, cultivated, civilized garden where initiates, padawans, knights and masters alike came to relax and to meet with one another. Here he could wander along the pathways, check out the initiates without raising any hopes.

He realised that to go in expecting to come back out empty handed, as it were, was perhaps not living up to the spirit of his agreement with his former master and so he cleared his mind and heart of the hurt that had kept him apart from his fellows for so long, pushing them back until he could feel the life ready to burst from the doors in front of him.

When he finally did push the doors open, he all but staggered beneath the wave of life that hit him; he hadn't realised just how much he'd cut himself off from the Force, from other people. No wonder the South Garden had been the only place he felt alive anymore -that wild Living Force had always been stronger than anything else he knew.

He breathed deeply, letting the Force flow over him, through him, carrying with it the life here in the garden -the plants, the insects and small animals that all called this place home, the water and air and the beings. Beings of all races and ages; he used to touch such life all the time but lately he had been so shut off from the Force that it seemed overwhelming.

He let his feet wander, take him where they would; let the Force guide his steps again. He moved slowly, making his way around the lake that centred the garden; he had wandered from the main path several times, but always felt himself continuing in this direction - he was definitely feeling a tug.

He stopped when he realised that he was approaching the bench where he and Yoda had made their master/padawan vows, knowing it was his destination again on this day. Someone was already there, waiting for him, though he imagined the boy sitting on the plain wooden bench didn't know it yet.

The boy was small, short hair red in the sun. Qui-Gon was too far to make out his eye colour, but in any case the boy was squinting against the glare off the lake. He wore the simple whites of an initiate and though Qui-Gon did not know him, he could feel the quiet soul that spoke of dedication and sobriety -he would have to be sure to make the boy laugh.

He shook his head, both surprised and not at his easy acceptance of taking the boy as his padawan.

He moved forward and the boy turned his head, training bright sea- green eyes on him.

"I've been waiting for you," the boy told him in a quiet, solemn voice.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," he replied as he sat.

"You're here now."

"Yes, I am. Qui-Gon Jinn," he said, holding out his hand.

The boy took it without hesitation. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Well Obi-Wan Kenobi, I take you as my padawan learner."

"Thank you, Master."

Four times he'd been a part of this ritual and four times now he had felt the Force sealing his choice, approving his participation, but this time there was more. Perhaps partly due to his renewed connection with the Force, but Qui-Gon couldn't put it all down to that; there was a rightness about this union that superseded the previous three, as if this one were the only of the four that truly mattered.

He looked at the boy who's hand he still held, looking for the man this child would become. He could feel the Force whispering around him, reminding him of its promise and counselling patience.

"Look!" said the boy, eyes alight. A flock of storm birds took flight, moving as one as they swooped and turned and flew through the sky.

Still holding hands, they watched until the birds were out of sight.

It was Obi-Wan who approached his master regarding the possibility of their becoming shield brothers.

It was an old term, steeped in the tradition of the order, but it was not an uncommon practice; usually there were a pair or two in every generation who found themselves so well-matched that it only made sense for them to join together.

Unsurprised by his apprentice's request, Qui-Gon had accepted with pleasure; it had become exceedingly clear with every mission they completed, with every lesson taught and learned, with every conversation partaken, that they were imminently suited. When they called on the Force, it was like they each grabbed a piece of the same ribbon, the other's moves, feelings, thoughts as clear as their own.

"I hope the relationship will go beyond what we share now," Obi-Wan had added hesitantly. Qui-Gon had known instantly what his padawan meant and had felt his body and heart respond with unconditional approval.

He had, however, merely smiled and answered with a simple "Yes."

And now here he was again in his precious South Garden; the wild grasses whispering in the wind, a soft welcome to him. He knew that his padawan waited for him at its centre, along with those who had been drawn to witness the ancient ceremony that would officially bind Obi-Wan and himself together; they already were bound, long before Obi-Wan had asked the question, long before either of them had realised this was where they were heading.

But the council liked everything neat and tidy, official. As if they could regulate hearts and souls and love. As if they could regulate the Force.

Qui-Gon thought perhaps this was why he liked the South Garden so much; it had been left to its own devices. The plants were brought in, planted and then thrived or died of their own will. The hand of the Master Jedi Gardeners were not to be found among this wild vegetation.

He had come early, found his favourite spot and lay down to meditate, surrounded by the Force's abundant presence. It had felt right to spend time alone, here where he had been promised that he would not be alone in the end, that he would find that other soul that made him complete.

But now it was time to go to his Obi-Wan. He could feel it in the way the whisperings changed, urging him to move, not to be late. Walking slowly, he arrived at the centre of the garden at the same time as Obi-Wan, his padawan smiling at him as they met in the middle of the natural circular clearing amidst the trees.

He removed his dark and grass covered robed. Beneath it he wore a brand new uniform; crisp and clean, as yet uncomfortable, reminding him of the importance of the day. Obi-Wan was similarly attired, standing straight and stiff at his side. They faced each other and joined hands; a hush coming over those assembled to witness their pledges.

Obi-Wan started, face as solemn and serious as Qui-Gon had ever seen it, though he now recognized the happiness shining in the sea-green depths, belying the calm facade that Obi-Wan presented to the universe.

"My master."

"My apprentice."

"My teacher."

"My student."

"My guide."

"My map."

"My sword."

"My shield."

"My brother."

"My lover."

They made the pledge together. "I will live the rest of my days at your side, support and companion, protector and lover. May the Force always move within us as it does today."

Qui-Gon let one of his hands drop and twined the fingers of the other with Obi-Wan's. They shifted until they stood back to back, facing the universe as an impenetrable unit.

Yoda moved into the clearing and slowly walked around them. "Together you are. Together you should be. Together may the Force go with you. "

Silence reigned for a moment, though Qui-Gon could hear the Force singing joyfully around them. Obi-Wan squeezed his hand and Qui-Gon knew that his padawan, now shield brother as well, could feel it too.

Then they dropped their joined hands and moved to stand side by side, accepting the individual congratulations of their friends and fellow Jedi, their family. Eventually, only they two and Master Yoda remained. Qui-Gon dropped to one knee in order to speak to his master.

"Thank you, Master."

"Thanks to you, Qui-Gon. Much pleasure it brings me, so happy you are. Kept its promise did the Force, yes?"

"Yes, my Master, it did."

"Light would be less without darkness, yes?"

"Yes, Master."

"Happiness and joy too are less without heartache and sadness."

Qui-Gon could feel his padawan's amusement as Yoda continued to lecture him.

"I hope you're paying attention, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said softly.

"Yes, Master," replied his padawan with a soft chuckle.

"What know you of sadness?" Yoda asked Obi-Wan.

"Only what I have seen, Master Yoda."

"Hold your happiness close to your heart, young padawan. Coming is the day when you will need the strength of its memories."

"Yes, Master," replied Obi-Wan. "I assure you, I don't take what I have with Qui-Gon for granted."

Yoda peered at them both, his ears moving independently of one another, and then he nodded, apparently satisfied. "May the Force go with you," he said before turning and making his way from the garden.

Qui-Gon stood as the old master disappeared among the trees, only to find Obi-Wan turning to him, eyes gleaming, almost emerald green in his anticipation.

"Now, Master?" he asked.

Qui-Gon cupped his padawan's cheek and nodded, but it was Obi-Wan who leaned forward and brought their mouths together.

From the beginning of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship they had performed well together, but with their acceptance of the way the Force worked between and through them, they soon became almost one. They fought as though with a single mind, negotiated as if they had been privy to the debate ahead of time and each had rehearsed their lines to back the other up.

They still had their disagreements, times when they were not in sync, but problems could always be solved when they both put aside their pride and anger and worked together once more. Their lovemaking had grown from soft, awkward, leaning touches to the ability to each bring the other to orgasm with no more than their thoughts joined.

Qui-Gon knew that they were on their way to becoming lifemates, that in reality they already were but for acknowledging it. They completed each other as perfectly as if they actually were a single whole broken into two pieces.

He entered the quarters he shared with his padawan, raising an eyebrow at the lack of light. It was far too early for Obi- Wan to be in bed, but the only light came from beneath the door to their bedroom. Hanging his coat and pulling off his boots, he unhooked his saber and then made his way to the closed door.

Though also his own room, though they were lovers, he and Obi-Wan tried to give each other privacy, some small token of space of their own in a relationship where the lines between them blurred.

He knocked, calling softly, "Obi-Wan?"

"Come," came the faint call and Qui-Gon entered to find their plain bedroom turned into a romantic rendezvous.

The plants that shared the space with them had new companions -dozens of climbing vines covered the walls and ceiling, small yellow flowers interspersed among them. Around the bed hung green gauze, making an inviting private chamber within the room. The lamps were hidden beneath more green material, giving the room a soft, almost living glow.

"I'll be out in a moment," Obi-Wan called from the fresher. "Unless you need a bath yourself, why don't you get undressed and wait for me in bed?"

Smiling, wondering what exactly his padawan had planned, Qui-Gon did as he was told, removing first his belt and then carefully undoing and then folding his sash. His tunics followed, the over tunic, and two under tunics, and his leggings. He removed the clothing as he did every night, with care and precision. When he was quite naked he moved to the bed, noting the sheets had been changed to soft green silk.

The material was cold as he sat, but smooth against his buttocks and rapidly warmed with his body heat.

A soft noise had him looking up, to find Obi-Wan standing across the room from him, naked body gleaming in the soft light. His lover walked slowly toward him and Qui-Gon looked his fill, feeling his shaft shift against his thigh and begin to harden. Obi-Wan's own length was hard, and also gleaming in the light and as his padawan reached him, standing at the edge of the bed between Qui-Gon's knees, he realised that Obi-Wan had oiled himself.

He raised a hand, letting it slide from a warm shoulder down Obi- Wan's chest. By-passing the solid column of flesh, he slid his hands back, tickling past the soft sac and the tender flesh of Obi-Wan's perineum. He suddenly needed to know just how completely Obi-Wan had prepared himself.

"Oh yes," said Obi-Wan, as if reading his thoughts, "I've anointed all of my body for your pleasure."

Qui-Gon shuddered as his finger slid into his lover's body with ease, a soft 'oh' sighing from Obi-Wan's mouth at the penetration. Qui-Gon could feel his lover's body surrounding his finger, but could also feel the slight stretch of penetration, their minds joined already.

With reluctance he let his finger slide from Obi-Wan's body, wanting to let his lover set the pace as it was obvious Obi-Wan had a plan.

Obi-Wan laughed softly, again divining his thoughts. "I had planned on letting nature, or should I say the Force, take its course, my Master."

"It always does," Qui-Gon answered softly as he let himself fall back onto the bed, Obi-Wan following and straddling him.

"I feel as if I was formed from you -"

"The best parts of me."

"And I'm trying to return to you," continued Obi-Wan. "I would make love to you until we are melded together. And yet, I don't feel incomplete as I am."

Qui-Gon reached up to caress Obi-Wan's face, his fingers running over cheeks and brows and nose. "I was not incomplete before you were in my life and yet now... I cannot imagine a life without you."

"Two bodies, one soul," suggested Obi-Wan, lowering his body onto Qui- Gon's.

He nodded his agreement with his padawan's statement.

"Did we even have choice?" Obi-Wan asked him.

"I believe we did," Qui-Gon told him. "We do. There are many ways for us to share of ourselves, that we became lovers was our way of expressing what is in our souls. We may never have met, and still would have been whole; the Force has not locked us into one destiny -always in motion the future is."

"Lessons even during lovemaking, Master?"

"Making love is a lesson in living in the moment, Obi-Wan."

His lover didn't reply with words, instead the enticing lips covered his own and the oiled body slid along his. The kiss grew in strength, grew in depth, as did the link that joined them as master and padawan, as lovers, as two people coming together in the Force. Soon Qui-Gon could no longer tell where he ended and Obi-Wan began; each touch was given and received, each pleasure doubled and then doubled again.

Eventually, even the distinction of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan disappeared and he was no longer both or either, only a single mind and heart and soul, wrapped within the loving embrace of the Force. He had no idea how long it lasted -it always seemed at once an eternity and an instant and it always ended far too soon.

Slowly he became aware of being Qui-Gon, of holding Obi-Wan, his padawan nestled in his arms, breath growing slow and even.

Master Yoda stood in the circle that had formed around Qui-Gon Jinn's body. With him were those whom Qui-Gon's life had most recently touched; his fellow Jedi, the Gungans and the Nubians, the boy he'd rescued and Obi-Wan.

Closing his eyes, he could feel the others; all those who had moved on into the Force who had been touched in some way by Qui-Gon, from boy to man, he had earned a place in the lives of many. The Force moved out from Qui-Gon's body in waves, like ripples on a pond and for a moment Yoda was again seated on the bench in the East Garden, watching the storm birds landing and taking off on the lake, the lanky boy he'd just taken as a padawan sitting quietly next to him.

He could feel that gentle presence, like a soft touch on his cheek, leaving him full and at peace and he knew he would be able to draw on that serenity when he needed it. His eyes opened, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze as they did so. He could read pain there, but also the peace; Qui-Gon's gentle touch giving his lover even more comfort than it did Yoda.

As long as they lived, Qui-Gon would live, a part of their hearts.

The End.