Disclaimer : If they were mine, they'd be doing this on screen!
(grinning) They belong to George Lucas and all those other
lucky people.
Warning : O/Q slash, rated PG.
Archive : Yes to Master_Apprentice, everyone else just tell me
and include my e-mail addy.
Author's Note : Yes, I always have long, involved author's
notes. If you read them, you find out interesting things about
the backgrounds of my stories! (smile) This one was inspired
and encouraged by all the people on DalNet and Squidge. Please
send feedback, as I'm terminally insecure about my fiction! And
please be gentle, as this is my first Q/O fic...
"Are you sure this is entirely necessary, Master?" Obi- Wan
asked as he trudged through knee-deep muck. He suppressed a
grimace as a slimy finger of mud found it's way down into his
boot, and hefted his spear. The wood and metal weapon was much
heavier than the lightsaber he was used to wielding, but it was
a required element of the hunt.
"Yes, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon answered patiently. "It is necessary.
The Kaanduri consider the dikra hunt a test of bravery and
character. They will not speak with any mediator who has not
survived it."
" I don't like the sound of that," Obi-Wan sighed in
resignation.
"And the Saanduri refuse to take part. Which is why we're
here," Qui-Gon finished, his apprentice nodding along with him.
Just then the two Jedi heard a rustling of leaves in the
distance. They both went perfectly still, and Obi-Wan calmed
his mind and allowed the Force to flow through him. He could
sense the dikra, now, ahead of them and to their left. The
padawan could also sense the Kaanduri who had joined them on
the hunt, and knew that they were all much further away than
himself and his master.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan moved toward the dikra in silent communion,
their paths forming a pincer approach. They were separated from
the animal by no more than a curtain of vines when it happened.
The dikra, perhaps scenting them on the slight wind, perhaps
hearing some fault in their approach, burst into sudden
movement.
It charged directly at Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan, fighting back his
fear for his master's life, let his spear fly with all the
strength he had. He was a split second too late, for, even as
his weapon lodged in the beast's neck and delivered the killing
blow, the dikra's momentum carried it forward. Qui-Gon just
barely had the time to raise his own spear, but the animal was
large. The force of it's charge caused it to slide down the
shaft with enough speed that it's tusks broke the skin on the
elder Jedi's chest before finally coming to rest.
"Master! Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked, rushing over to
Qui-Gon as best he could.
"I don't think so...," Qui-Gon said, his voice sounding
unusually weak. Obi-Wan reached him just in time to catch his
master as Qui-Gon collapsed. Calling out to the Kaanduri, who'd
started to approach when they heard the commotion, Obi-Wan
pulled one of his master's arms over his shoulder and wrapped
his own arm about the other man's waist. Glancing down at the
dead dikra, the padawan paled at the sight of the viscous blue
fluid dripping from two holes in the animal's tusks.
Poison.
The Kaanduri's focus when they arrived was so fixed on the
dikra that they didn't even seem to notice the two Jedi until
Obi-Wan snapped at them, his anger escaping his control for an
instant. Once he brought their attention to his master's
condition, their chattering took on a concerned tone. Qui-Gon
was lifted from Obi-Wan's arms and he followed them as quickly
as he could manage as they carried the elder Jedi through the
swamp to their settlement.
The Kaanduri were swamp dwellers, but in deference to offworld
visitors they had a system of caves prepared as dryer, more
pleasant guest quarters. Obi-Wan stepped gratefully onto the
firmer land and followed the hunters to Qui-Gon's quarters.
There they practically dropped him to the floor and rushed out.
Confused, Obi-Wan moved to question them and found himself
confronting their healer.
"Why has my Master been treated with such disrespect?" he asked
the healer, forcing himself to calmness.
"It is not disrespect, Jedi," the healer said deferentially.
"It is fear. The poison of the dikra affects individuals very
differently. Some are calm. Some become very violent. The
hunters fear the effect it will have on Master Qui-Gon."
"Will you treat him?" Obi-Wan demanded.
"I, too, fear," the healer admitted.
"Then you shall show me how I may save my Master," Obi-Wan said
firmly. The healer regarded him in surprise and seemed ready to
warn him, but the determination in the Jedi's eyes stopped him.
Obi-Wan was given a vial of deep red liquid and instructed to
give Qui-Gon half of it that night and the rest the next day.
The healer had no more advice for him.
Nodding, Obi-Wan accepted the vial and went to his own quarters
to collect a change of clothes before taking his place at his
master's side. He regarded Qui-Gon's tense form for a moment
with worry, but then closed his eyes and forced himself to
accept his fear and let it go. Obi-Wan wanted to be in touch
with the Force while he tended his master, and his fear would
interfere with that connection.
The padawan stripped his master of the filthy, torn robes with
an efficient but gentle touch and arranged Qui-Gon more
comfortably on the simple sleeping pallet. Obi- Wan poured
water from a pitcher into a bowl, soaked a cloth in it and
wrung it out before turning to bathe his master.
Here, Obi-Wan's detachment deserted him, and the cloth moved
over Qui-Gon's fevered skin with more tenderness than
efficiency. Now, the younger man welcomed the emotion instead
of hiding it away. He gave it over to the bond between himself
and his master, knowing that Qui-Gon would remember when he
returned to himself. Obi-Wan gave up his secrets to make their
bond stronger, to speed Qui-Gon's healing.
The bath finally finished, Obi-Wan wrapped the other man in
warm blankets. He then lifted Qui-Gon's head and shoulders into
his arms and gently coaxed him to swallow half of the red
liquid the healer had given him. Obi-Wan sat back, sighing. His
vigil began.
Quiet but fearful exclamations woke Obi-Wan from the slumber he
had lapsed into, and he found his master writhing in the grips
of a fever dream. Obi-Wan smoothed the hair back from the
beloved face, drawing on the Force and wrapping Qui-Gon in a
blanket of reassurance, and was amazed at how quickly the older
man calmed under his touch.
Obi-Wan remained awake for the remainder of the night to keep
an eye on Qui-Gon. His barriers lowered in unconsciousness, his
emotions unrestrained, fear radiated from the Jedi Master in
waves. Obi-Wan was startled by the fear he felt in his Master
and reached along their bond without thought to find the
source. Visions of Qui-Gon's fears came to him...
...himself, being gored by the dikra's tusks...
...himself, face twisted in pain, then smoothing as death
came...
...himself, gaining the level of Jedi Knight and turning his
back on his master, forever...
The connection between the visions was both obvious and
surprising. Qui-Gon feared losing him! It was a realization
that gave Obi-Wan both hope and fear. He feared losing his
Master just when it seemed his most deeply held wish might come
true... But that fear would hinder Qui-Gon's recovery, so he
turned it to determination that the other man would survive.
Knowing that Qui-Gon's fears would impede his recovery, Obi-Wan
soothed them the best way he knew how. He sent all his love,
long hidden, along their bond to reassure the older man. The
padawan leaned down and pressed his lips to Qui-Gon's forehead.
"I will be with you always, my Master," his whispered.
It was afternoon when Obi-Wan woke, for he had been up late the
night before, helping Qui-Gon to sleep. Opening his eyes,
Obi-Wan found that his Master had wrapped an arm around him
during the night. Smiling slightly, Obi-Wan gently disengaged
the arm and reached for the vial to give Qui-Gon the last dose
of the red liquid. It went down easily, and the rest of the day
passed with the injured Jedi sleeping peacefully.
That evening, Obi-Wan sat above his Master's head, using a comb
to gently untangle the long hair. As he finished, he ran his
fingers tenderly through it, not noticing the smile that now
graced Qui-Gon's lips. "You take much pleasure in such a simple
task," he murmured.
Obi-Wan started nonetheless. "Master! You're awake... How do
you feel?"
"Weak," Qui-Gon answered, slowly sitting up. "And loved." He
regarded Obi-Wan with a soft smile. "I did not think such fears
had a place in my heart anymore."
"There is no need for you to fear, Master," Obi-Wan replied
quietly, his hope clear in both his eyes and their bond.
"Nor you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, reaching out to cup his
apprentice's cheek in his palm.
Obi-Wan sighed his relief and leaned into his Master's touch,
his eyes bright with joy. The bond between them flared in
strength, and Obi-Wan found himself unable to distinguish his
emotions from his Master's, but it didn't matter, for all he
felt was love and happiness and acceptance.
Qui-Gon slid his hand from Obi-Wan's cheek around to the back
on his neck and drew the other man in for a kiss. It was deep
and passionate as they sought to express their feelings with
their mouths, and Obi-Wan found that here he was not the
apprentice, nor Qui-Gon the master. Here they were only two men
in love, two souls drawn together by the Force they served.
Later that night, Obi-Wan lay in his Master's arms and did his
best to memorize this moment of perfect happiness. It was a
gift, no less valuable for the knowledge that it would be given
again.
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