Series/Sequel: A sequel to "A Place of Silence", "Sanctuary and
Sacrifice", "Standing Against the Storm", and "Schisms and
Shadows".
Fifth story in the "Devotion" series - followed by the
Epilogue, which is the final piece.
Category: angst, action/adventure, drama, A/U
Rating: R for disturbing and dark themes
Summary: Oh, just read it. ;-)
Archive: My homepage, M_A and The Nesting Place only; all
others ask first please.
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em. I use 'em. Lots.
Thanks: to Rina, Krychick and Kaly for their wonderful help and
support and for once again setting me back on track...and to
Cyn for a last-minute looking over.
Feedback: Yes, please...it makes me happy, happy.
NOTE: There are author's notes at the end of the Epilogue,
regarding events in this series and future stories...in case
anyone's interested.
Mace Windu stood in the way, his saber ignited and held loosely
at his side. "I can't allow you to leave, Qui-Gon," he said
matter-of-factly. His eyes reflected a weary, immense sadness.
Qui-Gon regarded his old friend for a moment. "Don't do this,
Mace. One of us will not survive."
"Hand me the weapon," Windu said, extending his free hand.
"Step aside," Qui-Gon said evenly. They stood staring at one
another for what seemed an eternity.
"The time for discussion is ended," Windu said. "Will you not
yield, and end this now?"
"You know the answer to that question," Qui-Gon said, powering
his lightsaber.
At an impasse, the three Jedi stood motionless, each waiting
for another to make the first move.
Qui-Gon shattered the tableau, moving out to take the
offensive. Two quick steps, and he was close enough to do
damage. Grim satisfaction found expression in his eyes as he
landed a glancing strike to Mace's shoulder.
Windu's eyes widened slightly as he realized Qui-Gon was
pressing the attack with all his strength. Blow after blow, he
blocked his friend's strikes, finally forced to meet each with
all of his formidable strength. "It doesn't have to come to
this," Mace said, and although he meant the words, the threat
behind them was unmistakable.
"Let us pass," countered Qui-Gon. He readied himself to spring
forward, as they circled each other, saber blades humming. A
feeling of unease began growing within him, formed from the
ashes of memory and trust, carried closer to his heart by
long-standing ties of friendship. He ignored the sensation,
swept it aside with ruthless determination.
"Think of the boy, Qui-Gon," Mace urged, moving back a step,
careful to retreat sideways, still in a defensive posture. "If
you flee Coruscant, he will always be a fugitive. If you are
killed..."
Qui-Gon lunged forward with the lithe skill of a predator,
quickly striking a series of potentially deadly blows. Mace
countered each, reaching into the reserves of long experience
to combat the furious assault.
"If you die, his future's destroyed," Windu warned. In answer,
Qui-Gon struck again, and Mace enveloped the blade, bringing
them close. "And he will never be a knight if you strike me
down," Windu hissed, so close that Qui-Gon felt the breath of
the words on his face.
"He's made his choice." Qui-Gon said the words, felt Obi-Wan's
certainty from close by, surging into the Force. "His destiny
lies along a different path!"
"You will not...leave here," Windu said, struggling for
dominance in minute increments, as his opponent's saber inched
closer to his body.
Locked together, Qui-Gon and Mace stared at one another, the
light from the popping saber blades glowing eerily on faces
contorted with exertion. "I'll leave with Obi-Wan, or not at
all," Qui-Gon gritted out, his muscles straining from the
effort of holding back Mace's advance.
Windu's answer came with a massive Force-enhanced shove,
sending Qui-Gon stumbling backwards. Furiously, Qui-Gon rallied
and lunged forward; they moved with matched grace around the
docking bay, fluid and determined. Qui-Gon battered down
Windu's practiced defenses bit by bit, until they separated,
breathing hard, taking each other's measure.
Qui-Gon spared a moment to focus, to push back the feeling of
disbelief at his circumstances. He'd never believed Mace would
go so far to carry out the Council's instructions...not where
he was concerned. It wounded him as much as it challenged him.
He found himself distracted by the sudden paradox, his friend
become his foe.
"If you will yield, I will do my best to see you are not
separated," Windu promised, once again circling, keeping his
muscles warmed and ready for sudden movement. "You have my
word, as your friend and as a Jedi, Qui-Gon. Surrender your
weapon."
Vast doubt and fear warred within Qui-Gon. He considered his
limited options, found nothing to fall back on. Mace would not
give his word if he had no intention of following through.
Qui-Gon knew his fate; he would be sent away, and he dreaded
the prospect of Obi-Wan being barred from the Jedi in disgrace.
Selfishly, he wanted Obi-Wan with him at all costs, now that
the younger man had stepped away from the Jedi.
"You hold little sway over the rest of the Council," Qui-Gon
said, muscles instinctively twitching as Windu adjusted his
stance, watching, waiting. "Can you make assurances?"
"I will do what I can," Windu answered truthfully.
"Not enough," Qui-Gon breathed, unable to accept such weak
guarantees after risking so much, coming so far. His saber
slashed down in an arc of malicious purpose. Windu rose from
the ground, leaping sideways and cutting through the air with
his own blade. The blade slid gently through fabric and flesh,
cutting Qui-Gon cleanly across the back, leaving a painful,
angry wound.
Qui-Gon twisted and moved away, his sharp intake of breath his
only acknowledgment of the deep cut, ignoring Obi-Wan's cry of
anger and empathy. He tightened his grip on his saber and
focused his mind away from the pain, accepting it. End
this, came the soft hissing voice from within himself, but
he refused the suggestion, astonished at his own weakness where
Windu was concerned. He simply could not bring himself to
strike a killing blow. If he could only disable Mace...
Windu's eyes were on Qui-Gon, watching the man he still
considered his friend, revealing nothing of his feelings. He
countered every flashing movement of Qui-Gon's saber, favoring
his wounded arm somewhat, looking for his opportunity. And when
it came, he took it, unhesitating, for he was a Jedi, and bound
to his oath, and his duty.
"Master!" Obi-Wan heard his own voice echoing with his
silent mental scream. He stood frozen with a kind of stunned
horror, reaching out to Qui-Gon through the Force as Mace Windu
withdrew his saber, and Qui-Gon tumbled to the ground.
Windu stepped back, thumbing off his saber, staring down at
Qui-Gon's fallen form. He raised haunted eyes to Obi-Wan,
plainly showing his regret and sadness.
Obi-Wan's body tensed, and his lightsaber went into his hand,
fitting there like an extension of his body.
Through a haze of excruciating pain, Qui-Gon heard the
unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting, felt the coursing
of raw energy through the Force, knew Obi-Wan was ready to jump
into the battle. Fear welled up, an icy waterfall flowing down
into his limbs, making him brittle.
"No, Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon said, breathing heavily as his body
adjusted to agony. He pressed one hand against his aching
shoulder, where the cauterized wound burned and throbbed, and
sat up. "You're no match for his...level of skill. Better alive
and separated...I cannot see you die...I will not." Something
hot and sharp blinded him; he tasted tears of bitter anger,
stinging his eyes, reminders of defeat and loss. Obi-Wan's
survival was all-important, as it had always been; he reached
out with the Force, felt the younger man hesitate. "Obi-Wan!"
he gasped.
"Yes, Master," came the answer, vibrating with tension. Qui-Gon
sank back, relieved, as Obi-Wan's anger flowed out into the
Force, released reluctantly.
Obi-Wan locked eyes with Mace Windu for a moment more, and
Windu was startled by what he saw there. Had Qui-Gon not called
him...the boy was ready to die for them to be together. It
disturbed him and moved him, and he began to understand at last
just how deep the bond between them was. He watched as Obi-Wan
moved swiftly to Qui-Gon's side, easing him into a supportive
embrace.
"He needs the healers," Obi-Wan said tightly.
"He will live, Obi-Wan," Windu said, his voice softening as he
came to kneel beside them. He laid gentle fingers to the most
serious wound, peeling aside the edges of the cloth to see the
damage done by his blade. "And I gave you my word...I will do
what I can to see that you are not separated...if that is what
you truly wish."
"It is," Obi-Wan said, not bothering to raise his attention
from Qui-Gon's injuries. The young Jedi began the process of
focusing healing energy toward the wounds.
Qui-Gon looked up at his lover, and then at his friend, and
felt the world sliding away in a rushing tide of pain.
"Told you, I did. Dangerous he has become."
Mace Windu did not turn from the tall, shaded window. He rested
one hand on the transparisteel, which quivered under his touch.
"I disagree. He had an opportunity to strike the killing blow,
Yoda. He didn't take it. There's still something to be
redeemed. And he wants that, or I'd be dead."
"Recommend his rehabilitation, do you?" Yoda asked, watching
Windu's body language.
"Yes. As his friend...and as your peer," Windu said, the tone
one of not-so-gentle reminder.
"Persuaded so easily, I am not. What of the boy?" Yoda sounded
dubious, but less so than when their disagreement began its
first cycle over an hour before.
"I've noticed certain tendencies in him - talents, if you will.
He could still be useful in service to the Jedi."
Yoda nodded, thinking about the face of his former pupil, and
the angry single-mindedness he'd sensed. So much thrown away,
all for the love of that boy. "Approach Obi-Wan first, you
must. Then will Qui-Gon agree," he directed the other Master,
who nodded his assent.
"He will agree," Windu said.
"So sure, are you? I am not." The pointed remark
caused Windu to turn so that he faced the formidable Master.
"Soon shall we see, who is right."
Two weeks...two short weeks for their fate to be decided, while
Qui-Gon recovered. Obi-Wan spent his days tending Qui-Gon, who
spoke little and slept much, and examining the possibilities of
their life together. His future was mapped; there was no
question he would remain with Qui-Gon. He relied on Windu's
word to carry him through. There was nothing else for him to
do, no place for him to go, nothing to be if he were not part
of his former Master's life. He was trained only for
negotiation and combat; his skills were marketable if he chose
the profession of renegade, but that path held no appeal or
reward.
He watched Qui-Gon become enveloped in a storm that raged
within, and found a measure of his own healing in reaching out
to his lover. He often spoke of Mace's words to them both, used
that promise as a tool to comfort Qui-Gon, who seemed fiercely
withdrawn. Qui-Gon was caught in some place filled with hellish
shadows and torments, a place Obi-Wan could not reach, a realm
he would have to navigate alone as he struggled to reach an
inner peace.
The echoes of his own pain came back to touch Obi-Wan with
irony, a fact he did not fail to notice. He keenly felt the
need to heal himself, and allowed Qui-Gon to wrestle his own
demons.
When the summons came, Obi-Wan was ready.
"I'm informed Qui-Gon is recovering quickly," Mace Windu said,
settling into his seat in the Council Chambers. Obi-Wan Kenobi
stood before him, clad in a simple tunic, without his cloak or
lightsaber. Once again, Windu experienced a sensation of a
world out of balance. It seemed...wrong, somehow, for the boy
to face him without title, without a sense of place or purpose
stretching ahead of him.
"His body heals, Master, but his spirit is troubled and
restless," Obi-Wan said frankly.
"And what of your spirit, Pada-" Windu caught himself
saying it, cut himself off and tried again. "Have you made
progress dealing with your own fears, Obi-Wan?"
"I have, Master Windu. It has been enlightening to tend to
Qui-Gon these last weeks. I find my sense of fear and anger is
diminished considerably...and I have begun to reach
understanding of the Darkness I embraced during my captivity."
"So the healers tell me," Windu said, watching the younger man
for signs of deception or evasion, and finding none.
"I'm sure you're aware some members of the Council have
speculated that you and Qui-Gon may take your services
elsewhere, sell them to the highest bidder as mercenaries."
Windu scrutinized Obi-Wan, but the young man's expression did
not change. "In Qui-Gon's current state of mind, I'd have
thought that a valid fear...but I suspect you have reached
other conclusions."
"Being a Jedi was not an occupation for me, Master. It's part
of my being; I am a product of those teachings. I cannot undo
all I've learned, all I've become, simply by leaving the order.
I will always follow the path of the Light." Obi-Wan hesitated,
wondering how his words were being received, and if Windu
understood that he was sincere.
Windu nodded. "Will it be enough for you, Obi-Wan, to simply
walk at Qui-Gon's side?"
"It will be enough," Obi-Wan answered. "It is the will of the
Force."
"What do you mean?" Windu asked, suddenly captivated by the
powerful stirrings he felt within the Force as Obi-Wan spoke.
"I made a choice to leave the path of the warrior, because it
is a path Qui-Gon can no longer follow. So I must follow
him. If he is to conquer the Darkness, Master, I must
help him...and I cannot do that if we are separated," Obi-Wan
said. "And Qui-Gon is more valuable than I am to the Jedi. So
the greater purpose is served."
Windu was silent a moment, considering the logic of it, and he
felt the correctness of the words settle into him as he reached
out into the Force. "Perhaps there is a way to serve the Force,
and serve Qui-Gon as well," he said slowly. "But it will take
time, and patience. And Qui-Gon must cooperate."
"I cannot guarantee his cooperation, Master. A great deal
depends on the Council, and their decision regarding our
separation."
"The Council has agreed to act on my suggestions regarding this
matter," Windu informed him. "I have been observing your
skills, Obi-Wan. I propose this: serve the Jedi as a healer.
Rejoin us, as a Padawan under tutelage of a Master Healer, and
learn the Healing Disciplines. If you choose to accept, I will
use my influence to ensure Qui-Gon remains here as a teacher -
when his rehabilitation is complete. Assuming, of course, that
he is able to overcome what he has done, and face his
conscience."
"And am I free to enter my training after Qui-Gon
returns from Corellia?" Obi-Wan asked shrewdly.
Windu grinned. The boy was a natural negotiator; he'd been
trained well by his Master. "You will enter the training
program at the facility on Corellia, and may assist in the work
Qui-Gon must do there."
"What if Qui-Gon does not wish to teach?" Obi-Wan asked.
"It may be that he cannot decide this question until he has
purged himself of the darkness. If he still wishes to serve,
this will be his only option. Too many questions will
remain...he cannot be trusted not to turn, at least not in the
short term," Windu explained. "He will be given more than one
chance to choose, if the Healers feel he is ready to resume
service to the Order. If he refuses...you will have yet another
choice to make."
Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. "Qui-Gon's destiny will be of his
own choosing. I can only assist him in finding it," he said,
sounding eerily distant. He paused, and considered his options.
Windu could almost see the thought process taking place before
the young man spoke. "I would be honored to serve the Jedi as a
Healer...for as long as I am able." The words were laden with
the implications of a future where Qui-Gon would leave the
Jedi.
"So be it. I will make arrangements, and you will be welcomed
on Corellia. When will Qui-Gon be ready to travel?"
"Three days," Obi-Wan answered.
"Safe journey, Padawan. I wish you both well," Windu said,
pleased with the solution, but still troubled by the long and
difficult spiritual journey his friend would face.
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan replied, executing a graceful bow
and leaving quickly.
Mace Windu sat alone for a very long time, until the night fell
over Coruscant, obscuring the light, hiding him in the shadows.
And still, he sat alone, wondering, and thinking of Jedi
prophecy...and of his friend.
It was a difficult night for the Master Jedi.
Qui-Gon marked an invisible line with his repeated footfalls as
he paced the confines of his quarters. Back, and forth, every
step marking the passage of time. Obi-Wan had been gone almost
an hour, and Qui-Gon believed that with every second that
passed, the chances of his return grew more unlikely. The
Council may simply have decided to send Obi-Wan away and be
done with it, though Qui-Gon thought it unlikely. Instead, he
believed they would resort to persuasion, coercion, anything
necessary to lure Obi-Wan back to the fold.
Wrestling with his conscience had taken a toll on Qui-Gon, in
ways small and large. He attempted to find reservoirs of
remorse, failed, allowed himself to be puzzled by his failure.
The abyss was closer and more beautiful than he'd ever dreamed,
and he looked into it often, with something so close to desire
that he should have felt fear. Yet he did not, and he knew his
lack of guilt troubled Obi-Wan. So many things he'd done were
means to an end, and once that end was achieved, he lived
inside the decision, comfortable with the parameters.
He had believed he could kill Mace Windu, had been surprised to
find he could not. More to the point, he was troubled that
Obi-Wan was ready to do so in his stead. To what end? He
puzzled it though, again and again, always returning to the
inescapable conclusion that he was the teacher, and Obi-Wan a
most observant student. And there were things he could accept
for himself...but not Obi-Wan.
He knew must break with the Darkness. What remained was to find
the means to do so.
The door slid open, and Qui-Gon advanced on Obi-Wan, who gave
him a faint smile. "Was it the full Council?" he demanded,
without preliminaries.
"No. Only Master Windu. It was a brief interrogation." Obi-Wan
frowned as he noticed a few fresh spots of blood on Qui-Gon's
tunic, just above his shoulder. "Sit down," he demanded,
extending his hand to the older man and guiding him backward
into a chair.
"It will keep, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon objected, impatiently waving a
hand toward his shoulder, dismissing it. "What is their
decision?"
Obi-Wan tugged aside fabric and eased Qui-Gon's tension with
his quiet words. "We will not be separated." A grin born of
relief and joy stretched across his young, handsome face.
Qui-Gon caught him in a sudden embrace, swallowing his grin in
a kiss which began hungrily, and ended tenderly, foreheads
pressed together, eyes closed.
"That, at least, is a small victory. Something salvaged from
all that has happened," Qui-Gon said, letting his head fall
forward as Obi-Wan stepped back and ran his hands deftly across
Qui-Gon's shoulder.
"The cut across your back is almost healed," Obi-Wan said, as
he quickly stripped away the soiled bandage from Qui-Gon's back
and peered at it. The ability to focus on Qui-Gon's well-being
kept him occupied, and made him feel less of a cause of all
that had occurred.
Qui-Gon turned his focus outward and sensed something he'd not
felt in a long while - secrecy. He felt the power of strong
emotion held in check, and something being concealed from him.
"What is it, Obi-Wan?" Gentle fingers lifted the younger man's
chin, tilted it at such an angle that Qui-Gon had full view of
the green depths of Obi-Wan's eyes. "We agreed when you first
became my Padawan that there would be nothing hidden between
us. Tell me," he insisted.
"The Council has offered me the opportunity to become a Healer,
and to remain with the Jedi." Obi-Wan's tone was guarded. "I
may remain with you, throughout your time on
Corellia...thereafter, you will be offered a similar
opportunity."
Qui-Gon's skepticism showed itself plainly in his expression.
"Opportunity...I think you overestimate the choices I will be
given, Obi-Wan." There was humor in the words, but also truth.
"Master Windu has said you will be offered a position as
instructor at the Temple," Obi-Wan said slowly.
Instructor. The word carried connotations of trust and
respect, with all their varied shades of meaning. Qui-Gon was
not at all sure he was willing, or qualified, to live within
those meanings any longer.
"But it will wait," Obi-Wan added, seeing the conflict playing
out across the angular features. "It is not a decision which
requires your attention right away."
"Just as well," Qui-Gon said, "for I have made a crucial
mistake by insisting you remain with me." He heard the words
tumble out, saw Obi-Wan's expression and knew an argument was
coming. Qui-Gon stopped the flood of rhetoric with his lips,
tongue wandering through areas belonging to him alone, reveling
in the openness between them. "I regret having forced you to
make this choice, Obi-Wan. Had I been wiser, you would have
become a great Knight."
"No, Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan's voice was calm, certain. "I took the
path offered me; the Force guided me. It is as it is meant to
be. I don't claim to understand it, but I accepted it the night
I cut my braid. There is some purpose to all this. Nothing
happens by chance. This, my Master taught me."
"So he did," Qui-Gon said, eyes darkening with desire as he
bent his head to claim yet another kiss. "So he did."
End.
Feedback welcomed to destinaf@hotmail.com
Author's Notes can be found at the end of the Epilogue.
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