Thirteen Candles

by Raina

Archive: yes please, M_A; nuttersinc (elsewhere please ask for distribution)

Paring: Q/O

Category: Q/O, Romance, pointless mush

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Most surprisingly, I do not own Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Fiend in Flannel holds the copyright, but they really belong to each other.

Feedback: Oh, yes please if it's not too much trouble.

Summary: Each year of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship, Qui-Gon gets a gift for a midwinter ritual.

Warning: Does one warn for mush?

Spoilers: Yes, for "Destiny", and for "Thirteen Birthdays". Other than that, none.

Notes: If you think this fic is in fact the companion piece to "Thirteen Birthdays" and rips off the idea so the Author can vent some Christmas spirit, then you're absolutely right.

Series: Not directly, it might be a good idea to read "Thirteen Birthdays" first. This takes place in the "Destiny" universe and contains spoilers for this fic, but it's not necessary to read Destiny to understand it.

Thank you's: Temve for betaing this a day before Christmas and Leandra for nodding wisely and listening to me.

Prologue

"Obi-Wan, what are you doing?" Qui-Gon asked, watching his new Padawan in fascination as the boy set up what seemed to be a metal holding device of some sort on their dining table.

Obi-Wan looked up from his work, an anxious expression in his eyes. "Well, Master, I was researching my home planet's culture in my Anthropology 101 class, and I came across a rather nice custom."

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "And this custom involves this complicated contraption?"

Obi-Wan nodded eagerly, glad that he hadn't been told off from the start, "Yes, Master. It's called a She'nara and it's not a contraption, it's a candelabra. For every year a family is together, a candle is added to the display and lighted on winter solstice. And since you're the only family I have…" Obi-Wan trailed off and looked down, embarrassed.

Qui-Gon smiled, touched. "What an excellent idea, Padawan."

Obi-Wan's answering smile warmed Qui-Gon more thoroughly than any sunrise. "Now, what does this custom entail?" Qui-Gon sat down by the table and motioned for Obi-Wan to join him.

Obi-Wan did so and pulled out a simple white candle, which he placed on the holding device. "As the older family member, you light the candle, and then I give you your gift. That's it."

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows again. "You got me a gift? I didn't get you anything."

Obi-Wan shook his head earnestly. "That's not necessary, Master. The custom decrees that I'm the one to do the gifting on this day. I'm the youngling, the charge, and on this day, it is the custom that children gift their parents or guardians as a symbol of the gifts of knowledge and protection they receive from their elders."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Well then, Padawan, let us begin. Do I just light the candle?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, and you say, 'Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light.'"

Qui-Gon smiled. "Perfect. Very fitting for the Jedi."

Obi-Wan returned the smile. "I thought so too."

The Jedi Master picked up the candle. "Now does this candle have any symbolic meaning?"

Obi-Wan nodded shyly." Yes, Master. The candle is supposed to represent the dying year. White represents a new beginning."

"How very fitting, Padawan," Qui-Gon said and put the candle back.

He took up a box of matches, but Obi-Wan stopped him. "Not yet, Master. The longest night has not yet begun. After the sun has set, we can light the candle."

"Very well, Padawan. In the meantime, would you care for some dinner?"

One

It was almost completely dark in the quarters Master and Apprentice shared. Qui-Gon stood before the candelabra holding a single white candle and struck a match. "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

Obi-Wan smiled as he watched his Master light the candle with a steady hand while saying the ritual words in his quiet yet powerful voice. Obi-Wan loved the sound of that voice. Both watched the candle burn in silence for a few minutes, reflecting on the dying year, how much it had changed both their lives so completely.

Then Obi-Wan cleared his throat and pulled out a small wrapped parcel. He placed it on the table before his Master, and Qui-Gon took it, hiding his amusement at Obi-Wan's anxious expression. He was truly curious what the boy might have given him, but even when he had unwrapped the present, he was none the wiser.

It was a small, leather-bound old-fashioned notebook with ancient inscriptions on the cover. The pages were empty, and an ancient writing pen had been fastened to the book. Qui-Gon turned it around in his hands, silently wondering. Then he looked up at his anxious apprentice and smiled. "It's wonderful, Padawan."

Obi-Wan broke into a relieved grin. "But you have no idea what it is, am I right?"

Qui-Gon scowled, but couldn't keep up the stern act for longer than a few moments. The boy was getting far too good at reading Qui-Gon, but he could never manage to be angry with his cheeky Padawan for longer than a few moments.

"It does not do for a Jedi Master to reveal lack of knowledge, but since we are in private and you will certainly not tell anyone, I just might admit that this item confuses me the tiniest bit." The effect of Qui-Gon's formal and solemn speech was ruined by the huge grin that split his face.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "It's a Training Book, Master. Before there was such a thing as data pads, Masters used to document their Padawans' training in books just like this. I found one in the Archives about a year ago when I had to do library duty for fighting with Bruck, and the librarian let me have it. I thought I'd never find a Master, but now…"Obi-Wan trailed off.

"Now I'm honoured to call you Padawan, and honoured to capture our time together in such a beautifully bound form. Thank you, Padawan." Qui-Gon smiled and hugged the boy tightly.

Silently, he thanked the Force as well.

Two

Qui-Gon lit the match and brought it down to light the candle in front of him, smiling at his impatient Padawan as he lit the candle's wick. There were two candles on the She'nara now, a white one from last year, and this year's blue one. He met his Padawan's eyes and smiled more broadly as he recited the traditional words, "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

Obi-Wan smiled back. "Now, Padawan, why is this year's candle blue?" Qui-Gon asked, amusement plain in his voice.

"Well, Master, blue is the traditional Jedi colour for patience, so I thought it might be appropriate."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Patience? You?"

Obi-Wan grinned back. "I try, Master. Which brings me to your gift."

"Ah, yes, my gift." Qui-Gon said, sitting back in his chair and waiting in quiet anticipation. Obi-Wan brought out a package and handed it to his Master. Qui-Gon carefully unwrapped it, looked at it and drew up his eyebrows. "A rock, Padawan?"

A glittering grin answered him. "Well, yes Master."

"Is it Force-sensitive?" Qui-Gon asked, teasing the boy.

Obi-Wan grinned and teased back, "No, I just thought it was pretty."

Both looked at the rock and bust out laughing. Pretty was the last word which could be attributed to the piece of stone. It was in fact totally unremarkable. Grey and roundish, rough and completely without any distinguishing feature.

After they'd both calmed down, Obi-Wan picked it up and held it in front of his Master's face. "In fact, Master, it's a meditation rock. I picked this habit up on Galea. People there use rocks as focus in meditation. They watch the rocks grow."

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow. "What purpose does that serve?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "None in particular, Master, it's just an exercise in patience."

Qui-Gon eyed his apprentice suspiciously. "So you're giving me an exercise in patience?"

Obi-Wan blushed violently. "No, Master, I'm giving both of us an exercise in patience. I was hoping we could watch the rock grow together. Maybe then I'll learn."

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly. "A good idea, Padawan."

The grin returned to his Padawan's face. "Besides, with a Padawan like me, you're going to need every bit of patience you can get."

Qui-Gon laughed, stood up and grabbed his cheeky apprentice around the waist. "Brat!" he said and started to tickle the boy with a vengeance.

Obi-Wan laughed and squirmed away, taunting his Master to try and catch him again.

Qui-Gon gave the rock a long look. They'd both need this thing a lot in the years to come, he was sure of it. But right now he had other things to do.

With a growl, Qui-Gon went to chase his still giggling apprentice.

Three

Obi-Wan stood at the table, already waiting for him when Qui-Gon came out of his room. The She'nara was in position, a third candle having joined the first two on the glittering candelabra. It was white. Qui-Gon didn't have to ask why.

At times this year he had been uncertain if he'd ever stand here with his Padawan again, and he was thoroughly glad that they had reached a point of new beginning, as the candle signified.

He reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. Obi-Wan's nervous stance relaxed at the familiar gesture and he smiled tentatively at his Master, handing him the matches. Qui-Gon struck one and lit the first two candles.

Then he lit the new one, intoning the ritual words, never breaking eye contact with his Padawan. "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

Obi-Wan nodded in affirmation, but didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled out a small parcel and handed it to Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon slowly opened it and unveiled a small crystal that started to glow the minute the Jedi Master touched it. He swallowed. "It's beautiful." That it was. It glowed in a warm, homey light that seemed to speak to Qui-Gon's soul.

Obi-Wan smiled. "It's a Denerian glowing crystal. I accustomed it to your Force signature. It won't glow for anyone else."

Qui-Gon smiled back. "Thank you, Padawan."

Obi-Wan glanced down to the floor. "If I ever lose my way again, just put it in the window to make sure I find the way home again."

Qui-Gon pulled his Padawan into a hug. "I don't think that will be necessary, Padawan. You shine quite brightly yourself."

Obi-Wan smiled into Qui-Gon's tunic and whispered, "Only to you, Master."

Four

Qui-Gon didn't want to get out of bed. It was cold and dark and he wanted to stay curled up in his bed for the rest of the evening. He was so tired he just wanted to go back to sleep and not wake up until the year changed. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't just go back to sleep, there was something he needed to do.

It was winter solstice today; he had to light the candle. But he was too weak; the Merillian Flu had sapped his strength severely. Still, he knew how much this ritual meant to his Padawan, and – he admitted it - to himself.

He pushed the blanket back and tried to get to his feet.

"What are you doing?" a voice from the door said.

"I'm getting up," he answered, but he contradicted his own words by sinking back to the bed.

His Padawan helped him ease back down onto his pillows. "No you're not. You're far too sick still."

"But the ritual..."

Obi-Wan smiled. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared, only to return a few moments later with the She'nara and a very small and very flat box.

The She'nara's three candles had been joined by a fourth one, the candle representing their last year. And what a year it had been. Qui- Gon didn't particularly want to remember it, but it was part of the ritual that he should.

He looked at the candle that was supposed to represent their year. It was dark green. Qui-Gon smiled. How fitting. The Jedi colour of hope.

He took the matches from his apprentice's hands and with trembling hands he lit the candles, stopping over the new one and saying the traditional words, "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

Obi-Wan had been watching him most peculiarly during the lighting of the candles, and Qui-Gon cursed the dimness of the room for which the candles were in fact the only illumination. Their flickering light was not enough to discern Obi-Wan's eye colour, and the boy had raised his shields. He was getting better at shielding every year. Qui-Gon mourned that, even though he knew it was necessary. Or maybe he just mourned the necessity.

Qui-Gon looked at his apprentice, waiting for the next part of the ritual, but Obi-Wan just sat there, looking at Qui-Gon. Then he reached out and placed the small box before his Master on the bed and smiled a small smile. "Here you go. Your present." Qui-Gon opened the box and revealed a small piece of metal to the candlelight. He took it up and turned it around, examining it. It had a sort of clasping mechanism attached to it, but Qui-Gon was unable to determine the contraption's purpose. "What is it?"

Obi-Wan blushed. "I thought at least that should be obvious. It's a hair clasp, Master. I made it for you myself."

Qui-Gon smiled gently at his Padawan. "Obi-Wan, I'm touched. It's beautiful."

Obi-Wan returned the smile. "Look more closely at the front."

Qui-Gon did. The engraved pattern looked very familiar, he could make out a flame and…"Obi-Wan, is it a She'nara candle?"

Obi-Wan's smile grew and he nodded. "Yes, Master. Just a little reminder."

Qui-Gon didn't have to ask of what. He knew exactly. He remembered it all too clearly, the darkness closing in on him that fatal day on the cliffs, his resignation, and then… the light.

He cleared his throat and closed his fist around the hair clasp. "Even in our darkest hour, I won't forget the light."

Obi-Wan's smile glowed in the near-darkness of the room. "Is that a promise, Master?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, Padawan."

He drew his student close for a hug. How could he forget the light? After all, his light was always with him. In the form of one very cheeky, very stubborn and very precious Jedi Padawan.

Five

Darkness and warmth filled the rooms Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan occupied for the duration of their mission, their first since Obi-Wan's brush with death on Cellis.

Qui-Gon had been reluctant to take on the mission, but Obi-Wan had assured him that he could handle it. The Jedi Master didn't doubt that, but what about his own capacity to handle it?

His vague sense of misgiving had however turned out to be just nerves; the mission was running smoothly, so smoothly in fact that Qui-Gon had managed to take the night off for both of them. It was, after all, a special occasion.

Obi-Wan strolled out into the common room and smiled as Qui-Gon held up a candle. "Is it time already?" Qui-Gon nodded.

"Give me a second." Obi-Wan vanished into his room and returned a few moments later with something hidden behind his back. Qui-Gon smiled. This was one of the reasons he loved this little ritual so much, because of the sheer joy Obi-Wan took in giving Qui- Gon his present.

Obi-Wan joined him at the table and handed him the matches. The She'nara was back on Coruscant, it was too big to fit into their bags, but Obi-Wan had brought a candle.

Qui-Gon set the blue, long, cyllindrical candle on the table and struck a match. "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

Obi-Wan smiled and together they watched the candle burn for a few minutes, silence settling comfortably between them. Then Qui-Gon raised questioning eyes to his Padawan. "Blue, Padawan? Serenity?"

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling. "Not exactly my best discipline, but I thought it was appropriate, especially in combination with this." He brandished his present and handed it to Qui-Gon, not meeting his Master's eyes.

Amused, Qui-Gon unwrapped the parcel and for a while only gaped. It contained a beautifully bound old-fashioned book, embossed on the cover of which was the title "Three Jedi Virtues: Patience, Humility and Faith."

He looked up and raised his eyebrows, torn between amusement, awe and confusion. "Are you trying to tell me something, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan looked down to the table. "Patience, humility and faith. All virtues I desperately needed while I was recovering. All virtues you instilled in me. I wouldn't have made it through without you."

Qui-Gon swallowed. "If I remember correctly, I showed a remarkable lack of all these virtues when you were injured."

Obi-Wan smiled and didn't object to this statement. It was true; his injury had shaken the serene and presumably unshakeable Jedi Master to the core. His memories of the days in the hospital were vague, but they all involved a drawn, tired, impatient and very desperate- looking Qui-Gon, hovering at his side, willing him to hold on with sheer stubbornness.

He met his Master's eyes for the first time this evening and saw his own mixture of amusement and affection mirrored in the blue depths. "Well, I suppose you were a bit of a nuisance for the hospital staff, but I…," he swallowed before saying the hard bit, "I liked it. It showed me that you care." He held up a hand to stop Qui-Gon from interrupting. "Not that I didn't know that before, but it was nice to feel…..cared for. And when I was released from the Healers, you helped me recover, you were infinitely patient, completely self-effacing and had endless faith in me. I guess I just wanted to say thank you."

Qui-Gon didn't know what to say. He pulled Obi-Wan into a crushing hug and whispered, "You're welcome. Just don't ever do something like that again."

Obi-Wan pulled back and smiled. "I'll try, Master. Believe me, I will try."

Qui-Gon pulled him close again, buried his nose in his Padawan's hair and thought to himself that he could really ask for no more.

Six

"Now rest well, Padawan Kenobi, and I'll check on you first thing in the morning." The Healer put back the data pad into its place at the nightstand.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you, Master. Good night." The Healer nodded back at him and left, closing the door behind her.

/Is she gone? / a voice echoed in Obi-Wan's mind.

"Yes, you can come out." Obi-Wan answered with a grin.

Qui-Gon stepped out from behind the screen he'd used to hide from Healer Ti'rella, carefully looking around before approaching his Padawan's bed. Obi-Wan couldn't help but chuckle at his Master's stealthy approach.

"Laugh all you want, but Ti'rella would have my head if she caught me down here at this time of night. Visiting hours have been over for quite a while, you know." Qui-Gon mock-scowled at him.

"And we all know how diligently you follow these kinds of rules, Master." Obi-Wan's answering grin was almost indecently irreverent.

"Brat." A large hand settled in his hair and ruffled it.

"So did you get it?"

An affronted look answered Obi-Wan. "Of course I got it. The She'nara was a tad too large to smuggle in, though," Qui-Gon added with a gesture of apology.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We'll put it with the others after they let me come home."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I'm looking forward to that day very much. The quarters are very large and empty without you." And not a home at all, he added silently. After years and years of aloneness, he was still not quite used to the feeling of a proper home, and ever since Obi-Wan had left on that Force-accursed mission without him, a mission that had led to the injury he was currently in treatment for, the quarters in the Temple hadn't been nearly as comfortable and inviting as they were when Obi-Wan was there, making a lot of noise and even more mess, but lighting and warming the rooms more efficiently than any fireplace could.

"Master? It's time." Obi-Wan's voice brought his wandering thoughts back to the present.

He nodded once and set the dark red candle onto the small tablet situated above his Padawan's knees. He lit a match. "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

The candle burned with a warm and steady light, the earthy tone of it reminded Qui-Gon of brick and hearth, all symbols of home, which was probably exactly the reason Obi-Wan had chosen that candle.

Qui-Gon sighed. "I wish I didn't have to leave you."

"It's only for a week, Master, and the governor requested you specifically."

He nodded. "I know, but I don't want to leave you alone here."

Obi-Wan grinned. "Come on, Master, what can happen to me here? I bet you told Master Windu to look after me and make sure I don't get out of bed, am I right?"

Qui-Gon smiled in spite of himself. "I told him that if he didn't look after you, I'd take all the vacation I've amassed over the years and take you off to Viega for six months to recuperate, thus leaving him without his top Master-Padawan team for the better part of a year. He agreed immediately."

Obi-Wan raised a speculative eyebrow. "You know, maybe I should have a sudden relapse. Viega...," he trailed off dreamily.

Trying and failing to look stern, Qui-Gon growled, "Don't you dare."

Obi-Wan dissolved into giggles under his Master's stare. Smiling, Qui-Gon waited until his Apprentice had calmed down again, then said, reluctance colouring his tone, "Maybe I should go now and let you sleep."

Obi-Wan shook his head eagerly. "No please, Master, stay. Besides, I haven't given you your gift yet."

"You went on your first mission without me, got injured, completed your assignment and you still had time to go shopping?" Qui-Gon's tone was mildly surprised.

Obi-Wan smiled. "Not directly, but I picked something up on my mission and I wanted you to have it. It's in the right inner pocket of my robe."

Qui-Gon went to the closet and after some rummaging around found a small hard object in the specified pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it in the candlelight. When he discovered what it was, he couldn't suppress a smile. "Another rock, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan grinned and nodded.

"Do I have to guess at the meaning of this?" Qui-Gon asked, amused. It was a long-established game between them, this question and answer gambit, on Obi-Wan's birthday as well as on Solstice.

Obi-Wan's grin softened into a warm smile. "It just made me think about you."

Qui-Gon looked at the rock critically. It was brown, of nondescript shape and ordinary consistency. Chucking at his puzzled look, Obi-Wan added, "It's the exact colour of your robes. When I was younger and I was cold, you always wrapped me in your robe. It always made me feel much more comfortable, it smelled just like you and I knew nothing could hurt me while I was wrapped in it. That mission away from you was very frightening at times, and when I found that rock, I didn't feel so small and alone anymore."

Qui-Gon smiled, touched. "I'll take it with me on my mission, then. I can use a bit of replacement portable home myself."

Obi-Wan chuckled at that. "What do you normally use as portable home?"

Qui-Gon tilted up his Padawan's head at looked into his eyes before giving him a glowing smile. "You."

Seven

Qui-Gon paced the common room of their quarters. "Padawan, will you come out there?"

"Just a moment, Master."

Qui-Gon sighed. What was wrong with the boy? He'd been so quiet lately, and he'd spent most of his free time sneaking off to unknown locations, never telling his Master where he went, which was unusual, for Obi-Wan had never had secrets from him before.

It occurred to Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan might have a lover. After all, he was nineteen and a very fine-looking young man. Maybe it was time to sit him down for "the talk". He was sure that Obi-Wan knew about the birds and the mynocks, but he needed to understand that even though duty must needs come first, he didn't have to hide his love life from his Master. Even if the thought of Obi-Wan with some faceless young handsome Padawan disturbed him for some reason. But that was his problem, not Obi-Wan's.

The object of his contemplation entered the common room and stepped up to the table, where the She'nara was already in position.

Obi-Wan placed a dark blue candle on the She'nara and handed Qui-Gon the matches, smiling up at his Master, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

Qui-Gon smiled. As long as Obi-Wan was his usual enthusiastic self on Solstice, he knew nothing of consequence was wrong between them.

He struck the match and lit the candle. "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

Normally they would have watched the candle in silence for a while, but after a few moments Obi-Wan cleared his throat and asked, "Can I give you your gift now?"

Qui-Gon sighed, then smiled when he met eagerly smiling eyes. "Padawan, you chose the colour for patience for the candle, but you show a marked lack of this virtue."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "It's just that I sort of have something planned."

That stung. This night had always been for them alone. He's growing up, you twit, he's got a life other than you, be glad of it, he chided himself. Still, he couldn't suppress a twinge of hurt.

But he drew his shields around it and just nodded. "All right, Padawan, go ahead then."

Obi-Wan grinned and placed a cylindrical parcel in front of his Master. Curious, Qui-Gon opened it. When he saw what it was, he almost dropped it.

A few months ago on a mission to Malastare, his lightsabre had been damaged beyond repair and, well, Obi-Wan had repaired it. It was as good as new, almost better, for Qui-Gon didn't remember it ever gleaming like that.

"Padawan…" He couldn't for the life of him say more.

Obi-Wan grinned, embarrassed. "Well, I know how much you hate the standard issue sabres, and I know how much you liked yours, so.."

Qui-Gon swallowed. "But that must have taken you weeks.."

"What do you think I've been doing after classes the last two months?" Obi-Wan asked, amused.

Qui-Gon shook his head in wordless wonder. He locked eyes with his Padawan and let all his appreciation of the gesture flow through their link, all his gratitude, all his affection. "Thank you."

A radiant smile answered him. "You're welcome. Now try it out!"

Smiling, Qui-Gon took two steps away from the table and switched his lightsabre on. The green blade hummed to life, glowing in the near dark of the room.

Qui-Gon's smile widened. The sabre felt wonderful in his hands, to his palms, the green blade cast familiar light, but the crystal was different and the whole weapon practically radiated Obi-Wan's Force signature. He closed his eyes and bathed in the feel of it.

"Thank you, Padawan, it's perfect."

He felt more than saw Obi-Wan's happy smile, and was mildly surprised when his Padawan turned on his heels and went to his room.

His confusion increased when Obi-Wan came out moments later, holding his own lightsabre. Answering Qui-Gon's frown, Obi-Wan chuckled and said, "Come on, Master, you have to try it out properly. I took the liberty of booking a training room for us, if you don't mind, that is." Obi-Wan looked apprehensive at Qui-Gon's consternated expression.

Qui-Gon shook his head and smiled to himself. "Not in the least, Padawan. On the contrary." And I'm an old idiot, he added to himself. Obi-Wan grinned and extended a hand in invitation for Qui-Gon to precede him out of the door, "Shall we spar?"

Qui-Gon nodded formally, "With pleasure, Padawan."

Eight

"Padawan, may I ask why we had to tow all this stuff down all the way into the Gardens?"

A mischievous smile answered him. "No, you may not. What ever happened to Jedi patience, Master?"

"Brat," Qui-Gon grunted, but didn't quite manage to make it sound grumpy.

Obi-Wan shot him an arch look. "If you just stopped complaining and helped me with the blanket, we could get to the part where I tell you why we're here much more quickly."

Scowling, Qui-Gon conceded the point and went to help his Padawan, muttering under his breath something about how they didn't make Padawans like they used to.

Obi-Wan grinned. "I don't remember hearing you complain when I sneaked you past the Corellian ambassador in the Senate the other day."

Qui-Gon sighed, trying and failing to look suffering. "You were such a nice, obedient, reverent one when you were a teenager. What did I ever do wrong?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but Qui-Gon raised a hand. "On second thoughts, don't answer that."

Neither Master nor Padawan could suppress their laughter anymore. Dusk settled while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan unpacked their small picnic and the She'nara and by the time they were settling down with dessert, it was dark.

Obi-Wan pulled out a bright yellow candle, and Qui-Gon was glad that the dark hid his smile. Yellow was the Jedi colour for happiness, and he admitted, as ever his Padawan's choice of candle was very appropriate. It had been a good year. No injuries, no major crisis, Obi-Wan had passed all his tests and was now almost a senior Padawan, their missions had been fairly easy and all in all it had been maybe the most quiet and normal year since the beginning of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship. Whatever normal was for the two of them.

Qui-Gon took the matches from his Padawan and lit the old candles, and then the flame travelled to the new one. "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light. Now why are we here tonight?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "For a Jedi Master, your lack of patience is appalling."

Qui-Gon growled. "You asked for it."

Careful not to dislodge the She'nara, he tackled his Padawan and started to tickle him with a vengeance.

Obi-Wan squirmed and gasped between laughs, "Ok, I concede. I'll tell you."

Qui-Gon stood up and pulled Obi-Wan with him, grinning smugly. "Nice to see I haven't lost it. Good to see I can still make you squirm."

Obi-Wan's smile faded a bit and he gave Qui-Gon an inscrutable look that made the Jedi Master vaguely uncomfortable.

He held out a hand and Qui-Gon took it, feeling a bit strange with the sudden shift of the mood between them. The playfulness had vanished; a tension Qui-Gon couldn't quite understand had replaced it.

Obi-Wan led his Master a short distance away from their picnic, towards a patch of plants. When they'd arrived, Obi-Wan released his Master's hand and crouched down next to a large Ocirl plant and a very small one.

"Here we are, Master."

For a moment, Qui-Gon was puzzled, but then realisation and memory hit him, and he smiled warmly.

"Padawan, is this yours?" he pointed at the larger plant.

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling up at him.

Now Qui-Gon recognised the Ocirl plant's colour and Force texture. He chuckled. Like his Padawan, his plant had turned out quite well over the years since he'd given Obi-Wan the seed for the plant as a birthday present.

He looked at the small plant next to it. "Is this it's offshoot?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "The first one. It took her this long to produce one." Shyly, Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon. "I wanted you to have it."

Qui-Gon crouched down and touched the small plant's leaves tenderly. Then he draped an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "It would be my honour, Padawan."

Nine

Trembling hands put a candle onto the small bedside table. It was quite beautiful, white at the top and then spiralling down in all the colours of the spectrum until it faded into black. With an unsteady hand, Obi-Wan lit the candle, and whispered, his voice cracking, "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

He blinked back the tears that threatened for days now and looked at the pale, unconscious form of his Master, lying in a Healer's bed, completely unresponsive. Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's hand and rubbed the cold fingers of that hand between his own. "You know, lighting this candle feels so wrong. Maybe I should have waited until you wake up and then you could have lit it, but I figured we both could use a bit of light now."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and continued, whispering even though the room was empty and the Healers had long ago given up trying to make him leave, "You would have asked me about the candle, and I would have told you that I chose it because it represents the loss of innocence and the changes in life. I'm 21 now, you know, so I'm officially no longer a child. And then I would have given you the gift."

He took up an item from the bedside table and put it on his Master's chest, which was still heaving with shallow breath, for which Obi-Wan thanked the Force. It had been so close, was still too close for comfort, but Qui-Gon lived. He hadn't woken up yet, but he lived.

Obi-Wan's gift rose and fell with his Master's breathing, somehow reassuring Obi-Wan immensely. He petted the stuffed wookiee's furry little body and smiled.

"Padawan, why did you gift me, a grown man and Jedi Master, with a stuffed animal?" Obi-Wan said gruffly, imitating Qui-Gon.

He picked up the toy and held it up, facing Qui-Gon, as if for the Master's inspection. "Well, Master, because I am no longer a child and I don't need it anymore." His voice dropped to a whisper, "I still hate sleeping alone, though, and I thought you might as well and appreciate some company. And since you wouldn't let me be that company, I'll settle for the wookiee. Not that I would have told you that, you stubborn man."

He placed the wookiee next to his sleeping Master and swallowed back the tears once more. Not sleeping, he corrected himself, he could have woken his Master from sleep. But no matter how much Obi-Wan called, Qui-Gon refused to wake up. But still, Obi-Wan refused to cry. He hadn't shed a tear since Qui-Gon had been injured, he'd held them back with sheer force of will.

They had told him that speaking through their bond would be useless, that Qui-Gon would not wake no matter how long or how loud he called. That didn't stop him from trying, though.

/Wake up, Master. Please. I've lit the She'nara candle. I know how much you love to do that. Please, open your eyes and tell me to for Force's sake get some sleep and not to fuss over a battered Jedi Master like that. /

Silence. Not only in the room but also in his mind. And while he could easily deal with physical silence, the one in his mind and heart was deafening.

He sighed and picked up the wookiee again, "Maybe you're not the only one who needs to share this bed right now."

Resisting the voice in his mind that chided him for being too old for this, he swung his legs onto the bed and curled up beside his Master, head coming to rest on Qui-Gon's shoulder, careful not to touch any bacta bandages.

Obi-Wan sighed again as he took in his Master's scent and the warmth of his body. As long as there was warmth, there was hope. He continued to talk through their bond, even though the Healers had told him that aural stimuli would have more chance of being heard. He knew better than that.

/Remember a few years back, you promised me you wouldn't forget the light. Now don't you break that promise. /

/Remember Master, please. /

/Hold on for me. /

In his mind, he pictured the soothing, homey light of the She'nara candle and whispered into the bond /Even in my darkest hour, the light is always there. /

/…said it wrong…/ a voice responded faintly in his mind.

He sat up so abruptly he almost fell from the bed.

/Master? / Carefully, reaching out.

Eyes opened and met deep blue ones, a voice croaked, "Ben?"

Obi-Wan captured a seeking hand in his. "Yes, Master, it's me."

There was no holding back tears this time.

Interlude

"After all this excitement, how do you want to spend next Solstice?"

Qui-Gon frowned. "Since when do you ask?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I thought after last year, you might want to have a say in it."

Qui-Gon considered for a short while, then smiled. "Well, I have one idea…"

Ten

Obi-Wan rose from the floor slowly and gracefully. He stretched leisurely and strolled out into the common room where Qui-Gon had not yet finished his meditations. He sat down on the couch and watched his Master, still floating on a wave of calm, relishing the opportunity to just look at him.

When he felt that Qui-Gon had finished his meditations, he leaned back onto the couch and closed his eyes briefly.

/All right there, Padawan? / Obi-Wan just smiled and nodded. He opened his eyes again and met deep blue eyes, an ocean of calm, one he'd love to drown in. Normally he would look away, embarrassed, but not today. They'd left all that outside today.

Smoothly, Qui-Gon rose and extended a hand towards the table in invitation. Obi-Wan got up and eagerly joined his Master. They didn't need words to know what came now.

Obi-Wan put the grey candle onto the She'nara, Qui-Gon grabbed the matches and the Master's voice echoed in Obi-Wan's mind /Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light. /

Obi-Wan smiled and let his Master's warm mental touch flow over him. He looked at the candle. Grey for silence.

Qui-Gon followed his eyes and caught the drift of his thoughts. /Thank you, Padawan. /

Obi-Wan didn't need empathy to know for what. They'd spent the whole day like this, in silence, according to the Ritual of Silence. Obi- Wan knew that Qui-Gon loved the simplicity and yet deep cleansing power of the ritual. Silence, joint and single meditation, empathy, bond speak.

Their shields had been at minimum all day, a silent vote of trust that the other would not intrude. They had communicated through emotions and their training bond, and at the end of the day Obi-Wan wondered why they'd ever spoken aloud.

He could enumerate the occasions on one hand when he'd felt a similar closeness between them, and none of them had been his best moments. But now, after this day, he felt invigorated, calm and centred as seldom before, and closer to his Master than ever.

Obi-Wan smiled. /You're welcome. I would never have thought that a whole day without wisecracking could be this enjoyable. /

Qui-Gon's rumbling, hearty laugh broke the silence for the first time this day and Obi-Wan's smile deepened. He decided that as much as he had enjoyed their day of silence, there were some sounds he didn't want to live without.

Eleven

Qui-Gon woke suddenly. Confused, he sat up. What had woken him? He reached out with his senses, but couldn't feel any danger. He looked out over the refugee camp, the many fireplaces crowding the clearing, but there didn't seem to be anything amiss.

He turned to his other side to Obi-Wan and discovered at once why he had woken. Obi-Wan was gone, his blankets abandoned.

Alarmed, Qui-Gon felt along the training bond, but didn't sense any danger or distress, just calm and the clear focus that spoke of absolute concentration.

Qui-Gon got up, pulled on his robe and went to look for his insomniac Padawan.

The Force led him through the trees while he reflected about his Apprentice. It wasn't an easy mission and they were both weary, and yet Obi-Wan had noticeable trouble sleeping. He knew Obi-Wan was more attuned to the Unifying Force, and maybe that was why he could pick up the currents of their little band of refugees' bleak future, their shattered hopes and dreams. It was difficult for him as well, but his hide was thicker than his Padawan's. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe not.

However, it wouldn't do for Obi-Wan to neglect his health. He would have words with his…

Thought, breath and brain stopped as he stepped out into a small clearing and his eyes fell on his Padawan.

Obi-Wan was bare-footed and had discarded his robe. His eyes were closed and his face bore a serene, quietly joyful expression.

He was performing a kata, and not any kata, Qui-Gon noticed, but the kata Qui-Gon had composed for him, tailored to him, made for him. He flowed through the complicated movements as if he had been born doing them, each limb perfectly positioned, a living, breathing prayer to the Force. Their prayer. Qui-Gon's prayer for his Padawan, one that Obi-Wan owned so completely that Qui-Gon thought his heart would splinter and shatter if anyone else ever performed this kata, or even saw Obi-Wan doing it.

For as much as the kata belonged to Obi-Wan, the watching belonged to him. In the fleeting recesses of his mind he sometimes allowed the spark of 'Mine!' to escape, and never more strongly as when Obi-Wan did this kata.

Sometimes the spark grew louder. Like now. As he watched Obi-Wan flow through the movements, graceful, quiet and practically radiating peace in his quiet communion with the Force, Qui-Gon was almost ashamed to admit that the only thing he could think about at all was what these lips would taste like and how the skin he could see gleaming under dishevelled tunics would feel under his hands.

He suppressed that thought with a groan. He'd had far too many of these thoughts lately, ever since it had hit him forcefully that Obi- Wan was not only no longer a boy, but a very desirable and wholly unattainable man. A man he loved.

Cursing silently, he called himself all kinds of names, of which 'lecherous old idiot' was the kindest. He kicked the nearest tree stump in frustration. His siren of a Padawan wouldn't even look at him twice in that way, and he was an idiot for even thinking about this. He should learn to deal with his improper feelings and just move on.

But every time he allowed himself to look at Obi-Wan when he did a kata or during sabre practice or in the changing room, every time he caught that lopsided smile, every time he looked into these eyes the exact moment they changed colour, he lost a bit more of himself to Obi-Wan. He chuckled mirthlessly. If he continued at this rate, there would be nothing left of him when Obi-Wan was knighted.

He raised his eyes back to Obi-Wan and found to his surprise that he was being stared at.

Serene green eyes met his and an eyebrow arched in silent inquiry, the whole look a silent 'Are you all right?'.

He forced a smile. "You weren't in your bed."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I felt like exercise. Besides, I felt a bit homesick."

Qui-Gon frowned. "Homesick?" Then he realised. "Force, Solstice! Damn, Padawan, I'm sorry, I almost forgot."

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "I almost forgot too. I don't even have a candle."

"Well, we can remedy that." Qui-Gon went to the nearest tree and broke off a dry-looking branch.

Obi-Wan watched, amused, as his Master stuck the stick into the ground and pulled out his lightsaber. Lighting the green blade at its lowest setting, he touched the upper end of the stick briefly with the blade. It started to burn immediately.

Qui-Gon smiled up at Obi-Wan, who had come to stand beside him, and said the traditional words, "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

They stood and looked at the makeshift candle for a few moments, and then Obi-Wan said, "If you don't mind, Master, I'd like to finish my exercise."

Qui-Gon only nodded and Obi-Wan went off to the centre of the clearing again, starting the kata anew.

Qui-Gon watched in awed and tortured silence. Treat and torture, every time Obi-Wan performed this kata. Entrancing and making every inch of his skin itch. Calming and shattering his serenity. Time stretched and became unreal as he watched. Hours went by, or a few heartbeats, Qui-Gon couldn't tell.

When Obi-Wan finished and turned to him, there was a sheepish smile on his face. "I don't even have a gift."

It was tempting to say 'You are the gift', but Qui-Gon restrained himself. His mouth was quicker than his brain though, and he heard himself say, "That kata was quite enough of a gift."

Embarrassed, he shut his mouth and turned back to the camp. He never saw Obi-Wan's glowing smile.

Twelve

Qui-Gon walked down the corridor of the Jedi Temple, uncertainty making his steps slow. He checked the data pad he'd found back in their quarters again. It still read, "Training room 3, bring your lightsabre."

He was confused as to why exactly his Padawan had asked him to come to a training room, but he hoped it was one of Obi-Wan's solstice surprises. He wasn't sure if he could handle anything more. After a year of sexual tension so intense you could light the Jedi Temple with it he wasn't sure how long he could take this anymore. And yet he was desperately afraid of what would happen to him if it stopped.

He opened the door and found a rather encouraging sight. Obi-Wan was kneeling in front of the She'nara and had obviously just placed the new candle on it.

Without turning, he spoke. "It's getting crowded."

Qui-Gon smiled and looked at the She'nara. Obi-Wan was right, it was getting crowded. Another unsolicited reminder that a long apprenticeship was nearing its end. Qui-Gon knew without a doubt that next year at this time, Obi-Wan would be a Knight. And that thought made him both immensely proud and scared the Sith out of him. Slamming a lid on his emotions, he just said, "Yes, I guess so."

Obi-Wan turned, smiled and gestured for Qui-Gon to join him. When Qui-Gon settled down next to Obi-Wan, the Padawan handed him the matches.

Obediently, Qui-Gon lit the other candles and then the newest addition, a dark blue one. "Even in our darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

For a moment, silence fell between them, as each of them looked for something to say. Then Qui-Gon spoke. "What are we doing here?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "I thought you'd never ask." He brandished a data pad and handed it to Qui-Gon. "We're doing this."

Qui-Gon stared from the data pad to his Padawan and back to the data pad. He read the words again. 'Two-bladed Sword Dance.'

"How did you know?" he asked, his voice unsteady.

"You told Master Windu you wanted to do it but could never find a partner about four years ago. It was far beyond my skill level then, but I thought we might give it a try now." Obi-Wan answered with a small smile. He stood up and held out a hand to Qui-Gon. "Shall we?"

Qui-Gon took the hand and the invitation. They did a short warm-up and then started the dance.

The participants in this exercise had to be completely in tune with each other, perfectly centred and very good with a blade. Normally it took weeks for any two Jedi to reach any synchronicity in this. For them, it did not.

They moved as one, sabres whirling, bodies moving in unison, in perfect rhythm with each other. Qui-Gon had studied the movements, but performing them was much more exhilarating than he would have imagined.

Soon, both had divested themselves of their tunics and fought on, clad only in their leggings. Only years of focusing exercises prevented Qui-Gon from reacting to the sweaty, dishevelled, half- naked form of his Padawan, the little grunting noises he made when he attacked and the sharp intake of breath at body-contact.

He met Obi-Wan's eyes and expected them to be grey as they always were in battle, but when he locked gazes with his student, he looked into the smokiest blue eyes he'd ever seen, eyes flashing with unabashed hunger.

Qui-Gon stumbled. Directly into Obi-Wan. They landed on the floor in a heap, Qui-Gon falling on top of his Padawan.

Eyes locked and time stopped. Their bodies were plastered together, their mouths inches apart, breath mingling, sweaty skin sliding against sweaty skin.

Qui-Gon forgot how to breathe. He forgot how to do anything but stare at his Padawan and tried hard not to give in to temptation and devour this inviting mouth.

He knew what that felt like now. Ever since he had kissed Obi-Wan on his birthday, he knew what his Padawan's lips felt like against his, what he tasted like, what his tongue felt like in Qui-Gon's mouth. He knew all that, and he had tried very hard to forget it. But now it was very difficult to remember why.

He watched in fascination as Obi-Wan wet his lips to speak. "Master, I.."

Laying a finger over Obi-Wan's lips, Qui-Gon stopped him. He knew what Obi-Wan was about to say and if he let him, if Obi-Wan said the words, Qui-Gon knew he'd be lost. They'd both be lost.

He took his finger away from Obi-Wan's lips and sighed. "I know. I know," he whispered. Then he tugged at Obi-Wan's Padawan braid, a reminder and a silent plea.

Obi-Wan just nodded, frustration and understanding warring in his eyes. Qui-Gon forced himself to get up, to break body contact with Obi-Wan.

He smiled down at his flushed Padawan. "Showers, I think. Cold showers. For both of us."

Obi-Wan smiled and let Qui-Gon help him up. "Good idea, Master."

"After you, Padawan." Qui-Gon said and watched as his Apprentice walked in the direction of the showers, a little unsteadily.

"I love you too...," he whispered at the retreating back.

Thirteen

"This is the last space for a candle on this thing. Whatever shall we do next year?" Qui-Gon asked, smiling at the young Knight who was sitting at the table across from him.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Well, start a new one, of course."

Qui-Gon smiled. Of course.

He surveyed the array of candles on the She'nara. Wistfully he thought that he could probably tell the history of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship just by using these candles. Various shapes, sizes and colours, even a simple stick were assembled on the She'nara, but the one that caught his eye now was the new one. It was pristine white and completely unmarked, almost shining with a light of its own.

Without a word, Obi-Wan handed him the matches. Qui-Gon struck a match and lit 11 candles and one stick. Then he lit the last one. "Even in out darkest hour, we don't forget the light."

A few moments of silence, then Qui-Gon felt he had to ask, even if Obi-Wan's grin should have been answer enough. "Obi-Wan, is that a…"

"Bonding candle, yes."

Qui-Gon swallowed. "And what does it stand for?"

Blue eyes met his. "The future?"

Qui-Gon smiled, warmth and love washing over him in waves.

"I do certainly hope so, Ben."

The End