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There Is No Passion - continued

(continued from part 4)

Obi-Wan is avoiding me. Since my declaration of love three days ago, I have not seen my padawan. He has sent data messages that do little to inspire my confidence in our mutual recovery, but Yoda assures me that he is well and I should give him this time. If Yoda only knew...

I want to be part of Obi-Wan's healing. And he a part of mine. It is the way of masters and apprentices. We must work together in all things. But Obi-Wan won't let me even close enough to apologize.

My arm is healing, but I am not a good patient. It is too soon for me to begin physical therapy, so I lie here day and night, fading in and out of sleep, waiting for Obi-Wan to come to me. It is a hopeless wish. I remember all-too clearly the look in his eyes when I told him that I loved him. The look that matched his words: "No, you cannot." Please let me close enough to love you, Obi-Wan.

Early in the evening of the fourth day I convince the healers to release me to my own quarters. I am surprised by their acquiescence. Perhaps they are as happy to be rid of me as I am to be rid of this place. It is standard procedure to contact the patient's closest friend or associate on the patient's release, and I sense they wish to contact Obi-Wan, but I ask them not to.

"Please... do not disturb him."

Though puzzled by my request they consent, and then offer to send a master and padawan pair to accompany me to my quarters. It is foolish of me to put off seeing Obi-Wan, even for the short time it will take to walk to my quarters, but I am at a loss with how to deal with this awkward void between us.

I am allowed, with some deliberation, to make the journey of my own volition. With a final check to ensure the sling is snug around my left arm, I am introduced to my escorts.

"You are Padawan Kenobi's master," the young padawan says by way of greeting as she bows.

"Yes. And you are?"

Just then her master joins us. "This is my apprentice, Lu T'au. I am Master Healer Noebin. It is a pleasure to meet you, Qui-Gon Jinn."

He bows to me and I to him. Then he looks to his apprentice and they share a moment--non-verbal, but clearly they are communicating with each other.

"My padawan admires your padawan."

I raise an eyebrow and look from him to his young apprentice. "Is that so?"

"Yes, Master Jinn. Though it is not common for senior apprentices to mingle with younger apprentices," she says, faintly blushing, "I would enjoy speaking with Obi-Wan. Getting to know him better."

She has the most delightful look of inquisitiveness in her pale orange eyes. A look I remember seeing on Obi-Wan not so long ago.

"Hmm." I nod, considering her words. Her crush on Obi-Wan is apparent and warms me. It is the first real pleasure I have felt in days. "Such friendships are not as uncommon as you might think, Padawan. Perhaps you and your Master would join us for dinner some night soon?"

"That would be wonderful, Master!" she says, her face lighting up, all-too easily revealing her interest.

I believe she is sixteen, and I am not in the least fazed by her obvious designs on my apprentice. He is a striking young man, strong in body and in spirit, and she is at the perfect age for crushes and dreams of romance. However, I am sure that should Obi-Wan and I come to an agreement on the state of our relationship, this little one would easily transfer her affections elsewhere.

We walk at an easy pace back to my quarters, conversing cordially on matters of no importance whatsoever. It is good to enjoy such company and when we finally reach my quarters I am a little disappointed to see them go.

Noebin reminds me to get plenty of rest and that a healer will check on me in the morning. "If you feel any discomfort, please do not hesitate to contact us."

We exchange bows and I wait for them to leave before I turn to face the door. I sense Obi-Wan's presence inside, but unlike all the other times I've returned to my quarters, I hesitate to go in. I did not let Obi-Wan know I was returning home and I am still reeling from his lack of presence in my life the last few days.

I have missed you, Obi-Wan.

At last I palm the door open. It slides back and I am made breathless by the vision before me. Obi-Wan is kneeling on his meditation mat in the center of the common area, barefoot and dressed in a sleep tunic and pants. He is bathed in the ambient light of the Coruscant night. He is beautiful, golden and perfect in the eyes of this old Jedi. I step slowly into our shared quarters, hoping not to disturb the image before me.

You have been crying, Obi-Wan.

Even in my state of deep meditation I sense my master's presence. My eyes flicker open. "Master, I was not expecting you." I rise from the floor, brushing a tear from my cheek, and rush to his side. I put an arm around his waist for support. "You look tired."

"I insisted on walking," Qui-Gon says, letting me guide him to the couch.

"The healers released you?" I reach behind him for a blanket to cover his legs.

"They were happy to be rid of me."

I chuckle, knowing all too well how stubborn this man can be. "I'm glad they saw the wisdom in letting you return home, but I wish you would've contacted me. I could've met you at the healers' dome."

I see the surprise in his eyes. Of course he wouldn't expect me to escort him home. I have been absent for three days. It is a shameful thing, but I could not face him, not when so much has passed between us.

"You have been meditating," he says, nodding to the mat on the floor.

His eyes drift around the room. It has been some time since he has been in our quarters. I have given little thought to his ordeal. Discovering my kidnapping and then racing to my rescue. What must that have been like? Was he disappointed and angry with me as he was in my dreams?

"Yes, I was doing my evening meditations."

"Have you eaten?"

"No, Master."

"Would you care to fix us something? I'm not very hungry, but a cup of hot broth would do me good."

"Of course, Master."

I slip away from him and into the kitchen. Putting even this small distance between us eases my tension, but my hands are trembling. Why I am so disturbed to have Qui-Gon here? This is where he belongs. These are his quarters first and mine second.

I do not return to the common area until the light meal is complete. I set a tray with two large mugs of hot broth and a basket of fresh bread on the low table in front of the couch. I hand a mug to Qui-Gon and then grab the other and retreat to a chair across from him. He notices my choice immediately.

We sip broth in silence for several minutes. It is not uncommon for us to be quiet in each other's presence. In the past, the silence was welcome and comfortable; now it makes me uneasy. What is he thinking? Is he unsure of how to deal with me? On our return trip home, he said the healing had begun, but how can it knowing I took him and devoured him with a passion that should never have been unleashed?

"Yoda tells me you have been seeing a healing counselor."

"Yes, I met with Master Cl'ta three times. She is very kind."

I nod. This is good. Obi-Wan needs someone to talk to, but I still need for him to open up to me.

His reserved, closed movements tell me much. Even from the couch I could watch him in the kitchen, fussing, making noise and wiping the counter over and over in a show of keen industry. He is uncomfortable with me here.

"It is good for you to continue with the healer, but I also need us to work together on your healing and to get you back into your training schedule. I consider your sessions with Master Cl'ta private, but I expect us to be honest with each other."

"Master?" He sets his mug down on the tray.

"I know you are uncomfortable, Obi-Wan, but I am your master and I intend to continue training you despite what's happened."

He has the most puzzled look on his face. Surely he remembers what I've done to him. And beyond that he must remember his ordeal as a captive and a slave.

"I would like you to share what you are feeling, Obi-Wan. I understand this may be difficult for you and that you may not wish to speak specifically about anything that happened, but I believe it would be best if you started somewhere."

He bows his head. His hands are folded in his lap and his bare feet are crossed at the ankles under his chair. It is a look of concentration and reluctance. Maybe I am pushing him too fast, but I cannot allow what's happened to damage him further. I must know what he's feeling. We must get back on track if his training is to move forward.

"I have wronged you, Master." His head is still bowed, his eyes lowered.

"Wronged me? How Obi-Wan?"

"Please..." His voice fades.

I consider his words for a moment. Obi-Wan has always been a perfectionist. Always reaching for the next level of kata. Always ready to spar the highest ranked fighters. He is never satisfied and that drive has served him well in his training, though it has made him a bit serious. This supposed wrong he has committed must be another symptom of his perfectionism. I will not allow him this indulgence.

"I do not see how you have wronged me. I think instead I must apologize to you."

He looks up. His eyes are wide and a swirl of gray-green.

"You? No, Master," he says, shaking his head. "You should not apologize."

"But I insist, Obi-Wan. I should not have burdened you with my feelings. You have much healing ahead of you and my confession was inappropriate and ill-timed. I am sorry."

"No!" he shouts, jumping to his feet.

His outburst startles me and I quickly set my broth down. "You would do well to lower your voice when you address me."

His body is tight. His teeth clenched. His lips trembling. What emotion is propelling him to act this way?

"I am the one who acted inappropriately," he tells me in a firm voice. "I let passion guide me...."

"As you are now."

He turns his face away. "I can't do this."

"You can and you will, Obi-Wan. Now look at me."

Slowly, almost reluctantly he obeys. "Master, I am sorry. I don't see how you can tolerate me."

I should not have hoped that everything would be fine once I brought him home to the Temple. I let my imagination run wild as I journeyed to find him. Each hour that passed without him at my side, without knowing if he was alive and well, made me see more clearly into my heart. I love him... I love him... I love him. My days were filled with waking dreams of holding my Obi-Wan and whispering endearments in his ear. My nights were filled with fantastic visions of lovemaking and bonding.

Now I am faced with the reality. He does not want me that way. He does not want to speak of love. He is deaf to my declaration. He only hopes to heal the best he can and move on... finish his training and become the great Jedi knight I know he can be. And I am ready to guide him... even if he will not love me.

"We are a team, Obi-Wan," I say, still appraising his body language. He is coiled and ready to bolt from the room. "As a team we work together, but each of us is also responsible for ourselves. I will do all I can to help you in your healing... as will Master Cl'ta, but ultimately you are the only one who can make it happen."

"Of course, Master."

"In addition to your regular meditations, I would like you to meditate on your feelings of anger."

"Master?"

"You have much to be angry about, Obi-Wan. No one should be treated as you were, but as a Jedi, you may only *feel* anger, but never act upon it. Find the origin of your anger and make peace with it. I will not tolerate any more outbursts."

"Yes, Master," he says, and bows fully. "May I be excused now, Master?"

"You may. Goodnight, Padawan. Sleep well."

Behind me, the door to my room closes softly and I fall to my knees. I tilt my head back and close my eyes in exasperation. What am I to do? I love him. I love Qui-Gon with all my heart, but my feelings for him are passionate. He declared his love for me, but what kind of love did he profess--that of a master for his apprentice? Surely there could be no other between us.

I push my fanciful thoughts aside and follow my master's instruction. I meditate on anger--the anger that threatens my serenity, the anger that threatens my training. I easily catalogue the things that bring my anger to the fore--Olan Kemp, who used me as a bargaining chip for his life. F'Kar Kryta, who fucked me without mercy. And the dead on Munto Codru... their last breaths whispering to me in the Force make me angry that I could not save them.

So many reasons for anger and yet not enough to keep my mind from wandering, drifting back to Qui-Gon. I picture him in the recovery room, healing from the injuries suffered in my rescue. "I love you, Obi-Wan," he said. I remember the tone in his voice and the way he looked at me. He was as surprised by his admission as I, but I was the one who panicked.

Can you really love me, Qui-Gon? The way I need you to love me? Or were you just soothing my worries? The way you have for years.

Oh, but you felt so good. I'm almost glad for Olan's selfishness, taking me away from you, forcing you to come to me, taking me in the way you never would on your own. You let your senses be stirred that night, Master. You let your apprentice seduce you, take you to the depths of passion, to the depths of his soul and back.

"All of me, Qui-Gon. Take all of me."

I stroke myself through my sleep pants, feeling how hard I am for my master. Wanting that glorious joining again. My hand slips inside the waistband. Yes! This is your hand on me, Master. You stroke me, knowing you are the only one who can bring me this pleasure.

"More..."

I sit, leaning my back on my sleep couch and slipping my other hand down to touch more intimately. Fingers curl around my balls playfully and then move further, rubbing my opening. Need you inside me, Master. Need you to fill me. Fill me with your power. Thrust into me. Fuck me.

My middle finger slips inside and I let out a hiss of pleasure. So good, but I need more. I need Qui-Gon inside me.

My finger slides in and out as I stroke my cock, imagining you, Master. Do you know how carefully I chose my former lovers? I made sure they were nothing like you. They were the appetizers before the feast...

I feel the glorious beginnings of orgasm. My toes curl. My body tightens. There... I fall into it, drown in the sensation. Spurt endless streams onto myself and the carpet. My breathing is hard, shuddering and sobbing. No... I am unhappy, unfulfilled, and guilty. I am still a slave, but this time not to Kryta, but to passion. I have let it control me yet again.

Hot tears fall down my cheeks and blur my vision. I look out onto the Coruscant night, the lights shimmering through my tears.

Qui-Gon. Oh, Qui-Gon. Never again...

I feel a wave of sadness coming from Obi-Wan. My instinct is to reach out with my mind and soothe him, but he needs this. He has not had time to grieve for the recent events in his life. He needs this time.

Sometimes it is good and right to feel pain. Sometimes it is cleansing.

I stand before the closed door to his room. I reach out and glide my fingers over the cool surface imagining that I am caressing his milky skin. It would be easy for me to ask entrance, to speak with him again, to take him in my arms. To comfort him as he allowed when I first rescued him.

But something has changed in my Obi-Wan. It is not clear to me what, but I am sure he has changed. Oh, that the change might be good and strong. But I fear, yes, fear, that Obi-Wan is making decisions without me. Not just because he is a young man, an adult now, but because he needs to find his own way in his healing.

I withdraw to my own room without a word. Without the slightest touch to his mind.

I am late for my appointment with Padawan Kenobi. It is mid-afternoon and I rush across the Temple and through crowded causeways. Back in my offices my assistant tells me that Obi-Wan has arrived and is waiting inside. When I enter my healing room I see him there, seated in lotus position on a green pillow. His eyes are closed and from the slight slouch of his shoulders and the shallowness of his breathing I assume he's sleeping.

I watch for a moment. Indulge in his peacefulness and his outright beauty. He senses my presence and his eyes blink open slowly.

"Cl'ta."

"Yes, Obi-Wan. I was delayed. I'm glad you made yourself comfortable."

His posture straightens now, becoming almost rigid. It is disappointing to see the ease leave him.

I sit down on a multi-colored pillow, the same one I have sat on hundreds of times before. Despite its age and wear, I would never replace it. My master gave it to me many years ago when I passed my trials.

"You look tired."

"I haven't been sleeping well."

"It's to be expected, I suppose. What do you think is keeping you awake? Nightmares?"

"No, I'm just restless."

I tilt my head. Restless from depression? Too much thinking? Too much processing of recent events in that young mind? This is his fourth session, but he has told me only the bare essentials. I need him to go deeper.

"Tell me about Olan Kemp."

His eyes widen. "Olan?"

"Yes, he was the man with whom you had a relationship. Correct?"

"Yes, but...."

"You need to tell me about him. What was he like when you were together?"

"I don't see how that's important."

"He's the man responsible for your captivity and you don't think it's important to speak of him as part of the healing process?"

"We had a brief affair, that's all."

His stubbornness is frustrating, but there is only so much coaxing I can do. If he is not ready to talk then he is not. But I'm not quite ready to give up.

"Did it surprise you when your lover turned against you?"

"It should not have. He was a man of indulgence."

"And he indulged in you. So what made him use you like that?"

"It was in his nature, I suppose," he says, and then proceeds to chew on his thumbnail.

"Are you nervous, Obi-Wan?"

"No, I just..."

"Just? There's something you're not telling me about this man. Were you in love with him?"

"No! No... I didn't love him." His gaze drops to his lap.

"But there is something... Did he love you?"

He shakes his head. "No, he was jealous."

"A jealous lover? And of whom did he need to be jealous?"

There is no answer.

"Do you think it was this jealousy that led him to use you so easily? To take you off planet and make you a gift of F'Kar Kryta?"

He takes a deep breath and then very quietly says, "I was never anyone's gift or slave. I made it clear that I am Jedi."

"That's good, Obi-Wan. I'm sure your master is very proud of you."

His eyes shoot up and lock with mine. I know he doesn't have a problem with self-esteem, but that look... the response I just got tells me there is an issue here. Does it have something to do with his master? Is that who Olan had jealous feelings over? I wasn't aware of any sexual relationship between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.

She must not learn of my love for my master. I don't want Qui-Gon taken down any more than I have done already.

Thankfully, Cl'ta moves on and asks me about Kryta and the things that happened on Munto Codru. I am honest with her. I tell her of the repeated rapes. I tell her of my escape attempts and the lives that were lost. That is the hardest part... next to what happened with Qui-Gon.

"When I'm quiet I can still hear them. The last emotions they experienced." I shudder. "I want it to stop."

"It will in time, Obi-Wan," she says, and leans forward to sympathetically pat my knee. "Tell me what is the dominant emotion you felt from them?"

I reach back to the memory. It's never far from my conscious mind. "It was a mix of feelings... The first man was uncertain. He didn't know what was happening. And then in the instant he was dying he couldn't believe it... or accept it." I turn my face away and blink back the tears. "They died because I tried to escape."

"No, Obi-Wan. You know better than that. They died because F'Kar Kryta had them killed. You were only his excuse."

"Then I shouldn't have given him an excuse! Jedi protect life. We don't create situations where lives can be taken."

She nods in appraisal, but not agreement. Her expression is sympathetic and warm. "From what you've told me it's obvious you acted bravely."

"Then why do I feel this way?"

"What way is that?"

"Alone."

If she could only know how terribly alone I am. Alone because I am unable to have the one I love, unable to hold the only man I could ever truly love. How can she know what torture it is to live and to work with my heart's desire every day, and not to be able to have him? That is the true definition of loneliness.

His admission of loneliness is a huge step forward. He has finally admitted something deeply personal. But I must take my time with this new information. He is conflicted and I do not want to frighten his feelings back down that hole.

"How can you feel alone, Obi-Wan? You have many friends and you are close to your master."

"Maybe it's because of what I experienced on Munto Codru."

I nod. It's a start, but let's get to the root of things. "Rape can make you feel isolated... alone. How else did it make you feel?"

He swallows and takes a moment to consider his answer. "It felt like punishment."

"I see." I'm getting closer... I can feel it. "And for what were you being punished?"

"For my affair with Olan. For wanting sex."

We're back to Olan Kemp now? "Hmm. And you shouldn't want sex?"

"Do we have to do this? I've made some bad decisions and I suffered the consequences. That's all."

"I wish it were that simple, Obi-Wan." I can see that he's getting tired. His lack of sleep and this line of introspection is getting to him. We're certainly making progress. "Usually people who have been raped and abused the way you have need time to process what's happened. They're usually angry... I'm surprised at how little anger you exhibit, Obi-Wan. Do you care to comment on this?"

"Master Qui-Gon said I must find the source of my anger and confront it. I've done that."

"You have? When?"

"Last night."

"In one night of meditations you managed to sort out everything that's happened to you?"

"Of course not," he says, again sounding defensive. There's a pattern here...

"I feel much more calm today after the anger meditations. Terrible things happen in the field, Cl'ta," he says, continuing unprompted in his explanation. "If I'm going to be a knight I must learn to deal with that."

"That is very wise, Obi-Wan. But there's still the matter of dealing with the rape, no matter the reality of such things happening in the field."

"Yes, of course," he says, and then bows to me. "If I may be excused now... I have an appointment with Master Ren to reschedule my astro-navigation exam."

I hesitate to agree to his request, but I can sense he will not let me any closer to the truth today. "Certainly, Obi-Wan."

He stands, bows, and then leaves. I could use some good strong cha about now.

If I am to find a true calm, I must deal with my desires for my master. I spend the rest of the day away from our quarters but it is nearly time for last meal and so I return to face him. To my surprise he is setting the table for four.

"Are we expecting company tonight, Master?" I ask as I take off my robe and rush to help him. He is still partly incapacitated by the sling he is required to wear for his injured left arm.

"Master Noebin and his padawan will be joining us this evening."

"The healing pair who tended me?"

"Yes, they walked me back to our quarters yesterday when I was released from the healer's dome. I invited them to dinner, but hoped it would not be for several more days," Qui-Gon says as he sets the last of the glasses on the table. "Master Noebin informed me this afternoon that they are going off planet tomorrow. They have an opportunity to study at the Temple on Dantooine."

"I see. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"They won't be arriving for another hour. Is that time enough for you to make your salad with the nut oil dressing?"

I smile. This is one of Qui-Gon's favorite dishes. I had one of the Temple cooks teach me how to prepare the special dressing several years ago, just so I could make this dish for my master. I am still surprised how simple the recipe is... yet without knowing the secret that the nuts need to be pan-seared before the other ingredients are added it loses its intensity. "There's more than enough time, Master."

All the ingredients are on hand, so it does not take me long to wash and cut the vegetables for the salad and then cook the dressing. As I place the large salad bowl on the table for our first course, Qui-Gon asks me to share a glass of wine with him. The treat is unusual, but welcome.

"Thank you, Master," I say and accept the filled glass from him. "How are you feeling this evening? Did you see the healers today?"

"Yes, the healing is as expected, but of course, not as fast as I would like."

He does not wear the sling at all times, though the use of his arm is limited to about thirty percent of its usual range. I know the injury frustrates him, but he compensates with a judicious use of the Force to accomplish tasks he would otherwise do on his own. Tonight he is wearing the sling, as he should, but I can see it's irritating him.

We sit on the couch in companionable silence, sipping the good wine. It's calming to be with him like this. It reminds me of how it was before.

"I wish to speak with you," he says, setting down his glass. "About Munto Codru."

"Now, Master? But our guests will be arriving..."

"We must live in the moment, Padawan. And I have put this off long enough."

"Yes, Master."

"We were unable to properly discuss this last evening, but I want to tell you more clearly that I am not sorry for what happened between us... only for how it happened. I have loved you for a very long time, Obi-Wan, but it took these tragic circumstances for me to accept those feelings."

I know I must look dumbfounded, because he gently removes my glass from my hand and places it next to his on the low table. Then he puts his hand on my knee. My body warms instantly to that touch. How I've wanted this moment. Begged the Force for Qui-Gon to notice me in this way--to desire me.

"Do you have anything to say, Obi-Wan?"

He searches my eyes, and I suddenly understand that he is hoping that I will reciprocate his feelings. Can this really be happening?

"I... I've loved you for as long as I can remember." I can't believe I am telling him this...

His hand squeezes my knee and he smiles. It's that rare, sweet smile that tells me he is pleased. The tiredness that has surrounded him since our return to the Temple slips from his face and I find myself transfixed by his beauty. I have long been attracted to his leonine features and now I find myself even more so.

He leans closer to me. "We shared something on Munto Codru, Obi-Wan. Something we cannot deny."

I lean toward him, mirroring his need for closeness. "Yes," I say, being pulled to him as if he is the center of the universe. Indeed, the center of *my* universe.

Our faces are inches apart and we look into each other's eyes, gazing with an intensity that speaks of love and... passion. I am a little frightened by what I see. Passion has ruled me, and now I can see that it has seized upon my master's heart as well.

"That night is not what I would have wanted for our first. I hurt you, Obi-Wan, and for that I am sorry."

I feel his breath on my lips. His face is so close that my mouth waters with need. I see now that I could have him. Take him as I did on Munto Codru. Make love to him again and again...

"No," I say, seeing the path before us. "There is no passion, there is serenity."

He chuckles and then edges even closer to me, brushing his lips against mine. My body shivers, igniting with the feather touch.

"You would recite the Code to me now?"

"I haven't forgotten the Code. In all that I endured I knew I must never forget the Code."

"And now, Obi-Wan? Can you see that I love you... and want you? But only if you'll have me...."

I am made breathless by his words. There have been so many days and nights that I have dreamed of hearing Qui-Gon speak to me this way. It makes my body whirl with desire and I place my hand over his on my knee. I am ready to say 'yes'. I am ready to move our relationship beyond just the training bond of master and apprentice. And yet I hesitate.

"Master." The title, the honor spills with calm familiarity from my lips. How many times during my captivity did I cry out 'master' in the night? Pleading for him to come for me and not come for me. Pleading for him to forget me and not forget me. "We cannot," I finally say, the realization hitting me like blaster fire.

He pulls back and tilts my face up with a slight touch of hand to my chin. "Tell me what you are thinking, Padawan."

"There is no passion," I say, repeating the Code. Yes, this feels right. As difficult as this road may be, this is the choice I must make. "I love and desire you, Master, but I must choose serenity over passion. I must choose a life of celibacy."

He blinks.

"This path will help me maintain the serenity I need in my studies. I won't be as... distracted."

He nods and releases my chin. "I understand." His eyes look away, and in that moment I falter and want to take it all back, but then he looks at me again. I see his strength... his calm... his understanding. "I know you would never make this decision lightly, but you must know celibacy is not required by the Code."

I nod.

"Then I will honor your choice, Obi-Wan."

Everything is timing, I realize as I smile to Master Tenta Noebin and his young padawan. Their arrival came just as Obi-Wan announced his new path of celibacy.

"It is good of you to join us," I say and gesture for them to enter.

"Thank you, Qui-Gon," he says and Obi-Wan, gracious as always, assists our guests by taking their robes.

"You look well, Master Jinn... Knight Kenobi," Padawan T'au says. There is a hint of blush on her cheeks as she looks at Obi-Wan. A blush I envy for its innocence.

"We are very well, thank you," I say and direct them to take a seat at the table. It's not a complete lie. Physically we are both healing. Obi-Wan seems to have made progress with his visits to Master Cl'ta. I wonder if she had anything to do with his decision to choose celibacy.

"I see you're wearing the arm support tonight, Qui-Gon," the master healer says as we are seated.

"It is merely a precaution. While preparing for your visit I realized I was putting quite a strain on it."

The healer nods. "Yes, it will take some time..."

Our conversation continues in this vein for most of the meal. We discuss my injury and old injuries and the dangers of being a knight in the field, but eventually our discussion leads nicely to the healer pair's upcoming retreat to Dantooine. It's pleasant to listen to them speak and share their excitement over this opportunity. They are obviously quite fond of each other, a good match as far as master and padawan teams go, and I have to stifle a pang of melancholy.

"I've only visited that Temple once, but was very impressed," I say. A memory of the planet's fresh air and coolness comes to me. "I've often thought retreats on Dantooine should be a requirement to becoming a knight."

The healer laughs. "It does have that effect. And what about you?" Tenta asks, nodding to both myself and Obi-Wan. "How long before you will be back on missions again?"

I look at my apprentice who has been particularly quiet this evening and then answer for the both of us. "As you know, it will be several weeks before my wrist is healed, though I don't think Obi-Wan minds spending time here at the Temple. He can get reacquainted with his friends."

"I'll use the time to meditate and train," Obi-Wan says suddenly.

All eyes turn to him.

"Everyone knows you're one of the best padawans," Lu says brightly.

To his credit, Obi-Wan smiles kindly at the girl. "And to be ranked so highly among my agemates means I must work even harder. I'm sure you can understand this. What I saw of your healing abilities suggests that you are also ranked very high."

The blush that colors the girl's cheeks is both embarrassing and priceless. Obi-Wan's compliment is deserved, but also cherished by Lu T'au. Had she not been underage and Obi-Wan recently turned celibate, I am sure they would find bed partners with each other this night.

The thought unnerves me. I have hardly been given the chance to lick my own wounds. Suddenly I find Obi-Wan's timing on his new commitment very odd. Just when I thought I had gotten over some of the guilt of his taking, and was moving ahead with my feelings for him, he throws up this wall, a wall I will not scale or even lean against. That would be going too far even for me. I am bound by our roles as master and apprentice and by the decency of friendship to respect his decision. Any nudge or maneuvering on my part to make Obi-Wan change his mind and bring him into my bed would not only be against the Code, but morally wrong and damaging to us as a team.

I foresee many long nights of meditation.

Qui-Gon lets me sleep a little later this morning. I can hear him moving about in the other room. We did not speak after Master Noebin and Padawan T'au left last night. We cleared and washed the dishes in silence, an uncomfortable silence. Each time a dish clattered against another dish I cringed as if the noise would give Qui-Gon a reason to speak. I would have suffered hearing his calm, masculine voice. Suffered in hearing the slightest twinge of disappointment or regret. But he did not speak, and in that I also suffered.

I have hurt him... yet again. He bared his soul to me last evening. He confessed his love to me again, and I to him, but in the end I turned away. How can I let him love me when I know where that love will lead? When my body remembers the passion we shared. When my skin tingles with the memory of his touch. Surely I am right for choosing this path, for protecting what we have by denying the abandonment that would come with renewed passion.

When I walk into the common room, dressed for the day, I find him at the commpanel checking messages. He greets me with a nod, pleasant, but devoid of the warmth I need so desperately from him.

"You let me sleep longer than usual."

"A small indulgence. But now that you are awake, we must get busy. The Council is expecting your report today."

"Today?"

"Yes. I have already submitted mine in order to get the proceedings moving."

He is speaking of Olan's upcoming trial, but tactfully hasn't mentioned his name. I guess I had been too busy with trying to get on with my life to think about the trial that must take place, a trial to be held by the Senate's Judiciary Committee. It seems I am not through with Olan. I must see this to the end and ensure that he receives the punishment he deserves.

"You have the day, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says in a guiding tone, as if to say, 'do not dally.'

"Yes, Master."

He stands and walks over to me. "I am here if you need me. Or you may wish to contact Master Cl'ta. Either way I don't want you to feel that you're alone in this, Padawan. Writing this report may be difficult for you."

"Thank you, Master, but I've accepted what happened and have moved on."

Qui-Gon raises an eyebrow. I know that look all too well. It means he is surprised by what I've said, maybe even skeptical. He doesn't say any more, and leaves me to my task.

I sit down and take a deep breath. I must approach this with the same calm and objectiveness I do all my mission reports. Perhaps Qui-Gon does not realize how far I have come in my meditations and my sessions with Cl'ta. Or how successfully I have set passion aside. The trial judges will dispatch Olan justly, and we can get on with our lives. Writing the report will not be as difficult as Qui-Gon thinks.

I’ve known Obi-Wan longer than anyone at Temple. Well, except for Master Yoda, of course. But Obi-Wan and I go back to the Creche together. I was there when he won his first sparring competition at age seven, when he broke his fingers saving another Initiate from a bad fall at age ten, and when Pular Citerne slapped him across the cheek when he tried to kiss her on the mouth at age fourteen. We are brothers in this way... having grown up in the same environment and having supported each other for so many years. I wouldn't say that this kind of a bond is common among Jedi. There are so many of us and our lives are anything but stationary that even those we are initially close to tend to slip away. So in this we are fortunate. The friendship of Garen Muln and Obi-Wan Kenobi has endured.

After Obi-Wan’s return, it was only natural that we sought each other out. I’m glad to be here for him, to listen, to advise, to share a laugh or even to kneel quietly in meditation as we are now doing. But I must admit my knees are growing tired and my patience thin. He has yet to open up to me, to offer any details of his kidnapping. Oh, he thanked me for the "assistance" I gave his master in locating him, but he has sidestepped each inquiry I've made about the trauma that befell him. Bant would say I’m being nosey, but it’s not like Obi-Wan not to tell me everything.

Today, I am particularly annoyed with him. He's been meditating for three hours straight. I know because we started in this meditation together. After an hour I got up and walked around the gardens. Each time I checked on him he was still deep in his introspection. But now, my restlessness has finally been noticed and he opens his eyes. We are kneeling face to face.

"Garen? You're having difficulty with your meditation?"

"I am not. But I think you would meditate all day if the masters would allow it."

Obi-Wan does not respond immediately, instead he gets up from his knees, stretches and then sits on the grass. I join him and then he says, "I find great peace in meditation."

"Most of us do, Obi-Wan, but we don't let it take us over."

"What do you mean?"

"I took the liberty of adding up the total hours you've meditated in the last week."

"You have?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Forty-one hours. And that's only what I know of. For all I know you meditate through the night."

His face brightens with a blush. I've hit my mark. He has been meditating all night long.

"I guess I've needed it," he tells me, weakly.

I shake my head. "You need something, but it isn't that much meditation."

He looks terrible. Dark circles are beginning to show under his eyes and he seems thin, as if he's not getting enough to eat. I should've said something sooner.

"As long as you're sharing your observations, what is the *something* you think I need?"

"All right," I say, emboldened by his curiosity. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Or, for that matter, at your master?"

"Of course. I see myself in the mirror every morning and you know I see my Master every day. We share quarters."

"And you haven't noticed anything?"

I see him searching his memory and wish I had access to his thoughts right now. If he's truthful with himself, he will find that both he and Qui-Gon have declined in recent days. They are both beautiful men, physically and spiritually, and many look on them as the best the Jedi have to offer. But since their return from that planet where Obi-Wan was taken, they have both declined.

After a long minute, Obi-Wan finally turns the question back to me. "What have *you* noticed?"

He must be afraid of the answer. "You can't see it? How sad Master Jinn looks? How reclusive he's been? How quiet *you've* been?"

"You're mistaken. Master Jinn is still recovering from the injury he sustained on Munto Codru...."

"You sound like you're giving a report to the Council, not speaking of your own master!"

"If you're implying that I am not properly caring for my Master, you're wrong. I prepare his meals, bring him tea, make sure he is comfortable..."

"I'm sure you do all that, but do you ever talk to Qui-Gon? Do you ever just sit and talk to him? I don't think you do... Blast it, you don't talk to me anymore. All we do is spar or kneel here in meditation. I haven't heard any personal thoughts from you since your return. You haven't shared anything. Didn't it ever occur to you that I was worried for you? That I was afraid for you when you went missing?"

He sits frozen, his eyes wide and his lips still. I believe this is probably the first time in our lives that I have spoken harshly to him. We have never made each other unhappy in our friendship.

"I'm sorry, Garen."

"I don't want you to be sorry." I put an arm around his shoulders. "I want you to be my friend. The Obi-Wan I remember. The Obi-Wan who smiled and shared so much with me.... What happened to you and Qui-Gon on that planet?"

His body tenses. "What do you know about what happened?"

"Nothing. That's the problem. I'm your friend and all I know is that you were kidnapped by that guy in the café... Olan Kemp."

I am relieved at Garen's lack of knowledge of events, but soon enough everyone will know. "The trial will change that."

Garen's arm slips from my shoulders. There is a sense of defeat in him that he hasn't broken through my defenses. I'm sorry he feels this way, but I'm not sorry for keeping matters to myself. I must keep my emotions contained or I will be faced with the rage and fear and passion I experienced on Munto Codru. I cannot *feel* that way again. If I am to be knighted I must do all it takes to remain serene and dignified, especially in this time of tumultuous feelings.

"The trial is in a few days," he says.

"I'll be glad when it's over."

"Of course," he says, and nods. "You'll see Kemp..."

"Only briefly," I interrupt. "By law he has a right to see me, but because of the nature of his crimes he will be held in a cell adjacent to the court room. He will see me through a transparisteel wall which will become opaque seconds after I take the stand."

"You make it sound so clinical. Aren't you nervous to see him again?"

"No. My meditations have helped to keep me centered... and it will all be over soon."

"Then you'll get back to being your old self again?"

"I am still myself, Garen."

"If you believe that, then I am truly sorry," he says and stands.

"You're leaving?"

"I think I'll go find someone to talk to..."

"No, wait." I stand up and grab his arm. The concern that fills his eyes is almost too much to bear. "Please... Will you come to the trial? For moral support?"

His face relaxes and he smiles. "Of course." He gives me a fierce hug and then goes.

I sit for a time under a large shade tree and consider our conversation. I have been meditating long hours, but I have to in order to maintain my serenity. I've tried to get by with my usual two to three hours a day, but it hasn't been enough to keep my nerves settled and my emotions in check. Is it wrong to spend so much time in contemplation? I know I'll have to get by with less when Qui-Gon and I are back in the field, but that won't be for weeks.

When I return to my quarters after last meal I am glad that Qui-Gon is not there. He is sharing dinner with his own master and I know that means he won't be back until very late. I take this opportunity to do some stretching and balancing exercises, and then a thorough cleaning of our quarters before going to bed. In bed, I quickly fall to sleep and into dreams...

** I am in my master's bed, content and warm, and sleeping in his arms. He caresses my hair and my bare arms and soon his sweet attentions stir me to wakefulness.

"My Obi-Wan," he says and descends on my mouth with a kiss so filled with love and need that it overwhelms me.

"No." I push against his chest with my hands.

His attentions persist. His hands wander over my naked body, finding their way to my ass and to my sex.

"No," I say again.

"Let me love you," he says and kisses me so that I can no longer protest.

I am clay in his hands, lost in the artist's vision of me in his arms. I return his kiss, moaning and accepting his touch, hardening in his hand. I fall into passion with him and reach out to him... and then he stops. Qui-Gon pulls away from me, freezing in his attentions, looking down on me with such judgment in his eyes that I tremble.

"What's wrong, Qui-Gon? Why won't you love me?"

"You are not my Obi-Wan. I was mistaken," he says, and sits up.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm your Obi-Wan. I've always been your Obi-Wan!"

"No, my Obi-Wan would never be so easily seduced. You are some creature who inhabits his body. Leave and take your passion with you."

"No, Qui-Gon! I'm Obi-Wan!"

"Leave!" he says shouting and pointing to the door. "Get out of my bed!"

"No! I don't want to leave you! I love you!" **

It is late as I walk the halls of the Temple, returning from my evening with Master Yoda. He is concerned for my well being and that of my padawan's. He has noticed that my strength is not returning as quickly as it should though my wrist is nearly completely healed. Nothing escapes his notice and I am grateful for his advice, but I know what needs to be done. I must speak with Obi-Wan again. Our lives have steadily deteriorated since my repeated declaration of love and his vow of celibacy. I would never force him into a relationship, but I cannot accept that this is truly what he wants, that he desires a monk's existence, that he truly believes this is the path to serenity.

If Obi-Wan were thriving, if he were as bright and eager as he once was, I could live with my own heartache. I could continue to love him from afar. But I know Obi-Wan suffers as I do. His actions are methodical and devoid of joy and satisfaction. He is polite to a fault. He never questions my commands. Never argues his point. It is as if my Obi-Wan no longer exists. His spirit has fled and only a shell of the young man I knew remains to carry out his function in life.

As I palm open the door to our quarters I am accosted by wrenching screams. They are coming from Obi-Wan's room. I rush inside. He is sobbing and thrashing in his sleep as he cries out undecipherable words. I shake him awake.

"Obi-Wan! Wake up, Obi-Wan!"

His eyes fly open--wild and disoriented. "Please, Qui-Gon! Don't ask me to leave!" He falls into my arms, crying.

"I would never ask that." I caress his hair as he trembles in my arms. "You are my apprentice." These are the first emotions he has shared with me in many days, and I look down on him in sadness, but also amazement.

"I was dreaming."

"You're awake now. Would you like to tell me about it?"

"No, it was only a dream," he says, but I can't help but think he is lying. This dream, whatever it was, has greatly disturbed him. "What did Master Yoda have to say?" he asks, changing the subject and pulling away from me.

I want to pull him back into my arms, continue to hold and to comfort him, and to tell him how very much I love him, but his body language is very clear. And so, I move to the edge of his sleep couch and let my hands fall into my lap.

"Yoda was concerned for our health," I say simply, watching as Obi-Wan nods. "But we can speak of that tomorrow. What's best for us both right now is a good night's rest."

His eyes watch me as I stand, looking up at me almost sheepishly, and most definitely with some regret.

"Thank you, Master... for waking me." I nod, and am about to turn to go when he adds, "Have I been a good apprentice?"

"Yes, a very good apprentice, Obi-Wan."

"Not before. I mean... recently."

It is not like him to doubt himself this way, but under the circumstances... "In light of what you've been through, you've been carrying out your duties and training perfectly."

"But...?"

"But nothing. You have always been a good apprentice and still are. You mustn't be so hard on yourself. Things will calm down in time. After the trial..."

"After the trial I hope that we can get back in the field as soon as possible."

"Yes, as soon as possible." I can't help but think he is eager for distraction and a mission would be a good place to test our strength. If we were to leave on a mission today, I have my doubts that we would do well. Our relationship is strained and it will take some time to find comfort in each other again.

"Sleep well, and please... call me if you need anything."

"Yes. Thank you, Master," he says, and I leave his room.

It is the day of Olan's trial and the sun is bright, belying the heaviness in my heart. I have tried not to focus too much on this day, about the possible outcome, about what I must say and the memories I must face. To do so, I ended my sessions with Cl'ta. She had gone as far as I would let her, and to my surprise she did not press my decision. It has eased me some to not be faced with the daily barrage of questions and looks of concern. And as many have told me in recent days, I must heal myself.

Last night I knelt in meditation for many hours. My quiet vigil, an exercise in serenity, was one I did not share with my master. We do not share much these days. We merely go through the routine, strengthening our bodies for the day we will be sent on our next mission. Our life together is awkward at best, but once back in the field we will be free of the watchful eyes of the Temple, and we will find an easy rhythm with each other again.

This morning, Qui-Gon woke before dawn, and I joined him in the kitchen where he was brewing a pot of his favorite spiced tea. He likes to use this particular blend of zesty herbal tea to invigorate himself... and me... as the case may be. He brewed it for me to ease my depression after a padawan I'd pursued romantically had rejected me, and again after a particularly bad mission when we were driven from a planet we had been trying to help.

"It's a wonder tea," he told me, but never revealed his source for the special blend. I always assumed it was the old lady in the Coruscant sublevel market who wears fuchsia tunics and grabs Qui-Gon's sleeve to pull him aside to tell him the local gossip. I wish I had half his patience.

But today I must prove to everyone that I can do this on my own. I can get through the trial, my nightmares and even my growing sexual frustration.

We are on our way to the Senate Judiciary Building, a quiet contemplation hanging over me while my master and Garen share a conversation. They speak of the development of the new rock garden, of the upcoming saber competition and even of ancient literature... everything except what we are about to face. I want to ask them, "Do you think you're saving my feelings by not talking about it? Do you think your small talk makes this easier for me?" But instead I breathe evenly and allow them this distraction.

I asked Garen to accompany me today in a moment of weakness to reaffirm our friendship. I know I have hurt him by not opening up to him. I know I have been reserved, introverted lately, but it's only temporary while I heal. Qui-Gon is another problem altogether...

At the Judiciary Building we are escorted to an anteroom where other witnesses are gathered to testify against Olan Kemp. I am surprised there are so many and my master notices my confusion.

"Your capture of Kemp is bringing justice to many," Qui-Gon says and nods to those gathered. "He has left great suffering in his wake."

And pleasure. Why in this moment I remember our tumbles in his penthouse bed I cannot say. I am ashamed of my own weakness and turn away from my master, pretending to be interested in the activity around us.

A moment later, Garen sidles up to me, placing his hand on my forearm. "You haven't said a word all morning."

"I said good morning."

"That doesn't count. What are you feeling, Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon sees a great justice about to be served and you are as silent as the grave. I would think you'd be bursting with anticipation."

"I am anxious for this to be over," I tell him, truthfully. There is so much of me that wishes for what my life was like before Olan Kemp. If I could only turn back time and refuse his invitation...

Just now we are called to enter the courtroom where the case will be tried. Qui-Gon and I are to be the first witnesses and we are permitted the comfort of our friend Garen.

The room is grand, with high ceilings and burgundy stained duristeel chairs and tables, but no windows. I surmise that the room is large to compensate for the otherwise claustrophobic feeling it conveys. Actually, the room is large to accommodate the normally filled to capacity viewing gallery that rises behind us. Today the proceedings are "closed" and so only necessary participants are present, including the seven judges, consisting of six senators and one Jedi; and the court clerk, various assistants, witnesses, guards and the accused.

After preliminary proceedings, the clerk reads the charges. They include murder, rape, theft, kidnapping, bodily endangerment and the slave trade. I cringe to hear my name included in the proceedings. Though the trial is closed word of its content will leak to the Senate and the Temple.

When I am called to testify I step before the judges. I am remarkably calm, which pleases me greatly, since it means my long hours of meditation are working. The judges are seated behind a long table, cluttered with datapads which I assume contain the facts of this case.

I state my name and rank clearly, "Obi-Wan Kenobi, Senior Padawan to Master Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Temple Coruscant."

The judges nod. Qui-Gon's reputation precedes him. Being his apprentice has always been a great honor for me. I only hope the details of our coupling will not be dragged through these proceedings. I don't want Qui-Gon diminished.

Before the questions begin, the opaque window of the secured room to the right of the judges turns clear. My eyes shift to see Olan seated and staring at me. I regard him indifferently, noting that he is wearing the plain gray jumpsuit of an incarcerated criminal. For a brief second I feel sorry for him, embarrassed for his ego. I remember his pride and the life I knew only briefly as large and extravagant. Now he is caged and powerless. Gone are his expensive, beautiful clothes. Gone too is his ability to satisfy his every whim--I was a whim.

I know he used me, but I also know that I used him. I was weak when we met. Weak and easily flattered, falling into his arms eagerly and wantonly. Oh, that I had turned my attentions on my master instead, but I was sure that he would not want my advances. I was sure that the only chance I had with him was to wait until my knighting. And now, he has confessed his love for me, but the more I think on it, the more I believe he made that declaration only because of the events on Munto Codru. Those events forced him to declare himself to ease the awkwardness of our coupling. Qui-Gon, if only....

As the transparisteel is about to revert to opaque, Olan licks his lips and winks seductively. I falter, seeing this last glimpse of defiance as he fades from view. My mind and body spin as my world suddenly seems very much out of my control. Qui-Gon races to my side to steady me.

"Padawan," he says softly in my ear, his hand at my elbow.

"Master... I'm all right," I insist, but let him guide me to the chair from where I am to testify.

Qui-Gon's tenderness transmutes my thoughts from Olan's lack of remorse to my staggering love for my master. Yes, even my meditations have not suppressed my feelings for him. In fact, my meditations have only made his closeness tolerable. I want to touch him. Every second I want to touch him. I want to breathe him in, smell his masculinity in sex, feel the heat of his body against mine... But I must stop fantasizing about Qui-Gon and focus, and begin the long journey of relating my experiences with Olan.

The judges' questions are painfully direct--How often did you meet Kemp? What was the nature of your relationship? Why did you not run a security check on him? And so on. Finally, after three hours of testimony, I am released from the witness stand. I bow solemnly to the court and then take a seat next to my master and Garen.

After a short recess, Qui-Gon is called to testify. He steps forward, identifies himself and then eases gracefully into the witness chair. He details his search for me, the conditions on Munto Codru and corroborates my description of the final battle that led to our escape. And then, as I feared, one of the judges asks about our forced coupling.

"I see in your report that you found it necessary to have sex with your apprentice... in front of this F'Kar Kryta whom you later killed. Can you please explain this?"

Qui-Gon is silent only a moment. "I knew to do otherwise would have meant our deaths."

"Were you not carrying a weapon at the time? Could you not have forced your escape?"

"Yes, my lightsaber was concealed beneath my robes, but the time was not right to attempt an escape."

"And how do you know this? Or were you merely taking advantage of the opportunity..."

I gasp.

"The Force is my guide," Qui-Gon answers calmly. "I knew it would reveal the right moment to attempt an escape."

"How very convenient for you."

"Judge C'En," the Jedi Judge interrupts. "If there was any impropriety on Master Jinn's part where his apprentice is concerned that is for the Jedi Council to determine."

"I agree," adds another judge. "Olan Kemp is on trial here. Not Qui-Gon Jinn."

The judges begin their questioning again on a different subject, but my mind remains focused on our coupling. I know it was wrong. I know I used the situation to seduce my master against his will, but now at least one judge suspects that Qui-Gon used the situation as well. My fists clench. Will I ever get past that moment? Will I ever truly understand what happened between us?

Garen touches my forearm. "It's all right," he whispers.

I nod and give him a small smile. In a short while longer, Qui-Gon's testimony is completed. We are dismissed from the courtroom, knowing that the trial will continue for at least another day. The verdict will come soon thereafter, but my part is done.

As we leave the Judiciary Building, Qui-Gon invites Garen to take last meal with us in our quarters. It will be something of a celebration, he says, but I think it's too soon to celebrate. In fact, I feel particularly uncomfortable now that Garen has learned the details of my captivity, but more significantly that Qui-Gon and I shared intimacies. Perhaps in time his knowing will strengthen our friendship, but in this moment it is only an embarrassment.

Qui-Gon asks me if I will prepare stellar squash in honeyed milk for our meal. It's another of his favorites. In return, he'll make sour wheat bread, my personal favorite, and Garen will make omelets. It seems like a good plan. All of us have a task and work together, though separately in the small kitchen. Qui-Gon and Garen share the bulk of the conversation as we nibble on sliced cheese and make progress towards completing the meal. I wish I could enjoy this comradeship, but I am in need of my meditations. So much has happened today, so much has been stirred up inside me again that I need my meditations to maintain my serenity.

Garen shares a joke with Qui-Gon. I have never seen my friend so relaxed around my master before. Usually Garen doesn't even make eye contact with him, frightened by the legend of the Great Qui-Gon Jinn. Their sudden, easy camaraderie is curious and I try to ignore them.

When I finish combining the ingredients for the sauce, I work at removing the squash's tough skin to get at its tender, golden meat. I pride myself on my efficiency with this difficult vegetable, but tonight my preoccupation and my growing anger over the easy laughter around me works against me. Then it happens. The knife slips, cutting a deep gash between my left forefinger and thumb. I cry out in pain, dropping the knife and clutching my hand.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon and Garen shout in near unison.

My master is the first at my side. He reaches for my hand to administer aid and a healing touch, but I pull away, holding my hand tightly to my chest. He steps back, confused, no doubt thinking my reaction is out of pain and then reaches for my hand again.

"Don't touch me." My voice is direct, but so calm it frightens me. I stumble out of the kitchen into the common room.

Qui-Gon and Garen are fast behind me. "Let me take care of your wound, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says, gently.

"No, please," I say, now feeling an irrational dread of having my master near me. I don't want him to touch me. My heart is pounding hard in my ears. I feel as if I'll explode into a million pieces if he touches me.

Garen holds out a kitchen towel. "Wrap your finger in this."

My hand is throbbing and bleeding all over my tunics.

"We must get you to the healers," Qui-Gon says and gestures for me to move toward the door.

I shake my head. "No, I can heal myself."

"You aren't even able to ease the pain. You will go to the healers immediately, Padawan."

I know better than to argue when he uses that tone. I nod sharply and leave.

Obi-Wan's reaction to his master is even more frightening than his injury. I realize that I assumed incorrectly about their relationship. After hearing at the trial that they were intimate on Munto Codru I had thought them lovers now. Obi-Wan has loved his master for so long, telling me time and again how he wished they could be more than just master and apprentice. But Obi-Wan's body language is all wrong. He seems desperate to be removed from Qui-Gon's presence. He had chosen the farthest counter from Qui-Gon to work in the kitchen and then sharply warned his master away when he was injured.

As Qui-Gon takes a step to follow Obi-Wan out the door, I hold my hand up and respectfully ask him to stay behind. "Please, Master Jinn. I will see that he gets to the healers. We won't be long."

He hesitates. He looks worn from too little sleep and too much worrying and my mind is a whirl. What can be done? For the first time I am afraid. Afraid that I will lose two people who mean so much to me.

Finally, Qui-Gon nods. "I'll wait here. Thank you, Padawan Muln."

I race out the door to catch up with Obi-Wan. He has already turned the corner on the main corridor. "Wait!"

He gives me a quick look over his shoulder, but doesn't slow his steps. I double-time to his side and then escort him the rest of the way to the healer's dome.

The healers take Obi-Wan immediately into a small examination room. I am left to wait, but know it will not take long. The wound is deep, but not serious for Jedi medicine. It's his mental state that I am concerned with and just as the thought crosses my mind, Master Cl'ta arrives.

"Padawan Muln," she says in her usual pleasant tone.

I stand and bow. "Master Healer, I'm glad to see you."

"How is Obi-Wan? I was contacted immediately."

"The wound is not serious, but..."

"Yes?"

"I'm worried about him."

She nods. "You and a dozen others. Perhaps you can tell me what happened? What led to this injury?"

I explain the long day at the Judiciary Building and then the meal preparation. I confess that Obi-Wan has been acting withdrawn and has been spending an inordinate amount of time in meditation.

"I see," she says, looking a bit sad.

"Can you help him?"

The Coway's crystal pendants swing on her chest as she turns to look at the closed door of the examination room. "I will try."

The system of wellness at the Temple is impressive. Both the physical and mental aspects of health are integrated. Hence, when Obi-Wan arrived with a physical injury and his condition data was input into the system it immediately triggered a red flag that he had been in counseling recently. I was contacted at once.

I am ushered in to see Obi-Wan who is seated on the examination table, wearing only his leggings and boots. His tunics have been stripped off and cleaned by an attendant who is now returning with them and placing them next to him on the table. A healer takes Obi-Wan's injured hand from the bacta solution and pats it dry with a towel. It looks pink, racing with the invigorating strength of the healing medicine. The healer nods to me and then quietly leaves with his attendant.

"Cl'ta," he says as he flexes his newly healed hand.

"Thought you'd gotten away from me, did you?" I ask him and give a little chuckle so that he'll be sure it's a joke. But I quickly discover he's in no mood for jokes.

"I didn't purposefully injure myself, if that's why you're here."

"Oh... Well, I'm glad to hear that, Obi-Wan." His defensive response is curious, but not surprising. "It's standard procedure if one of my patients is injured I am immediately contacted."

"So you admit it. You wanted to see if I was trying to kill myself."

"I assure you that was the furthest thing from my mind."

He is very irritated and holds his recently injured hand to his chest. I know it is healed, so this gesture must be a subconscious one.

"Then you didn't injure yourself for attention?"

His eyes narrow on me. I'm sure that's the look he uses to intimidate his enemies in battle.

"No," he says, calmly, but not without edge. "I'm not a child."

"True, but you told me once that you felt alone. Do you still feel alone, Obi-Wan?"

There is a flare of acknowledgement in his eyes. I've touched on something. He does still feel very much alone. He is trying to handle everything himself. Foolish young man. His stubbornness may be the end of him yet.

"It was your right to end our sessions, but I had hoped you merely needed a break. That you would want to continue them again."

"Thank you for your concern, Cl'ta, but I am doing well," he says, and I think in a way he believes it. "I have found much serenity through meditation. My studies are progressing and Qui-Gon and I will be returning to the active mission list soon."

"I have not seen your master lately. Is he well?"

"Yes, he accompanied me to the trial today. We both gave testimony against Olan."

"Ah, yes, the trial. That must have been difficult for you... seeing him again."

He does not answer me immediately. Instead he hops off the exam table and proceeds to dress in his tunics. Finally, as he secures his belt, he turns to me and gives a little smile. "Cl'ta, I thank you again for your concern. You have been a great help to me, but I no longer require your counseling. I'm well. That's why I stopped coming to see you."

"Well then, Obi-Wan, may the Force be with you."

He bows, bids me a good day and then leaves. I stand staring as the door closes behind him. I cannot help him if he does not wish it. Or can I?

Garen stands as I enter the waiting area. "How are you?"

"The injury wasn't bad," I say and manage to smile.

"Good. Then let's get back so we can enjoy that dinner we were working so hard on."

He holds out his hand in companionship. I take it and pat his back with the other and then we head back down the hall to my quarters.

"Master Jinn will be relieved to see you, and I'll wager he'll have dinner waiting for us."

The mention of Qui-Gon makes my heart twinge. Yes, I'm sure he will have dinner ready. It's just like him to be that selfless. And what of me? What have I done that is selfless lately?

Garen's stride slows. The corridor we have just turned onto is nearly vacant. He turns to me and I can see he has something to say.

"Tell me... Why did you push Qui-Gon away when he tried to help you?"

"I... didn't think the wound was serious."

"But you wouldn't even let him look at your hand. It doesn't make sense. I heard you both speak about Munto Codru. It's what you always wanted..."

"Forcing my master to have sex with me is never what I wanted."

"Of course... having sex in front of that Codru-Ji had to be rough, but I hardly think you forced Qui-Gon. He loves you."

I take a deep breath and turn my eyes away. My lips are tight. My calm is slipping. It is becoming abundantly clear that I cannot continue this way. The meditations help for a time, but my emotions are constantly lapping at my serenity. Nipping away at my center. How will I ever achieve knighthood this way?

I turn to Garen, drawing on as much serenity as I can find within myself. "It's not just about how it happened, Garen," I say, looking intently at my friend. "It has everything to do with passion and how I've let it control me."

He nods. "That explains the long hours of meditation."

"Yes, the meditations are helping... to a point. But I'm finding it harder and harder to keep my focus, to maintain my serenity."

"You still want him," he says, simply. "So why aren't you lovers now?"

"Isn't it obvious? We can't be," I say and start walking again.

"Why not?" he asks, calling after me. "There's nothing stopping you. Even the Code says..."

"I know what the Code says!" I shout, turning back to him. "It says there is no passion, there is serenity."

Garen's green eyes are wide with shock, but he quickly recovers. He's not a Jedi in training and my friend for nothing. "That's only two lines of the Code. What about the rest of it? What about the part that says that masters and apprentices can share a love as long as the apprentice initiates it and it's agreeable to both? Doesn't that apply to you?"

"Not when passion controls me," I say, sharply.

"There you go again, focusing on only one part of it. Have you forgotten that you're more than just a Jedi? You're a man. You have feelings. And if those feelings are love then you should act on them."

His speech is impressive. If I didn't know better I'd swear he'd been practicing for days. But Garen isn't like that. He's much too spontaneous to have hammered out anything that eloquent beforehand. It tumbled from his lips with the raw intensity of an unpracticed plea, but still I am unmoved. In fact, I think his little speech has made me even more determined in my mission to find serenity. I see my path before me more clearly than I have in weeks. I see now what it will take to maintain that serenity. I have to free myself... completely. I have to free myself from passionate influences. And the most powerful of all those influences is my master. To me, Qui-Gon is passion personified. All I have to do is look at him and my heart races, my blood pulses in my veins. One look from him, one word softly spoken and I am ready to throw myself at him. I am ready to succumb to the fires of passion that I know will ignite and devour us.

"My priority must be my training. I am a man, but as a Jedi I must learn to control my human desires... I'll never become a knight this way. And as much as I love, Qui-Gon, and I do... Force, I do love him..." I stop, suddenly realizing the answer. I'll never stop loving Qui-Gon, no matter how many hours or days or months I meditate. And so, there can only be one answer. I must remove myself from the temptation. "I'm going to ask to be re-assigned. I'm going to request a new master."

"What? You can't do that!"

"The Code says that if an apprentice's training..."

"I know what the Code says!" he shouts back at me. "Obi-Wan, think about what you're saying! Qui-Gon is the perfect master for you... you're perfect for each other!"

I let out a shaky breath. "We were... perfect. But things change."

"Force, don't say that," Garen says, shaking his head. "You've got to think this over. This isn't the solution to your problems."

"I think it is... and I have thought it over."

Garen grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a shake. "Please, Obi-Wan. Don't do this. It'll kill Qui-Gon. He loves you!"

"And I love him. But if I'm going to complete my training I'll have to do it with another master."

"No," Garen says, firmly. "You're not going to mention this to him. At least not tonight. You have to promise me that, Obi-Wan. Please... We're going back to your quarters to enjoy a nice meal and you won't mention this crazy idea. You have to at least sleep on it."

I look into his eyes--his determination evident. I must give my friend this. I have done so little for him lately. "All right," I say, seeing the rationale of his words. "I'll sleep on it." And meditate.

"Thank you. Now let's get back before Qui-Gon wonders what became of us."

(continued in part 6)