Thanks for Pfyre for constant encouragement and for being so
wonderfully impatient :-)
This was going to be one long story, but I found myself needing
to look at a clean screen again! Part Two is now in production
and shouldn't be more than a couple of weeks coming. This part
DOES NOT end on a cliffhanger, I promise!
O/Q (of course!)
Rated: NC-17 for m/m sex and romance. Loads of slush cos these
two bring it out in me!
Archive permission given to M/A.
Summary: An unexpected attack within the temple persuades
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to finally complete their soulbond before
circumstances change beyond their control.
Feedback is craved!
Part I: The Enemy Unmasked.
"Then you shall have to leave him. You shall be found a new
master." Obi-Wan's eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at Mace
Windu's back as the Jedi council member turned to gaze from the
chamber window. The large circular hall was empty save for
them. Obi-Wan had hoped to speak to Master Yoda, but Master
Windu had instead opted to hear his concerns. He had simply
wanted advice, the opinion of a wiser Jedi than he believed
himself to be. But now... he did not understand what Windu was
saying. "No!" He stammered the word with as little disrespect
as he could manage. "That's not what I wanted at all, Master
Windu." He somehow brought his own panic under control. "My
Master is my soulbonded, you must know that. I cannot be
separated from him."
Windu whirled around, and Obi-Wan stepped back suddenly as a
red-beamed lightsaber blade arced toward him. Immediately the
young padawan dispersed his shock into the Force and activated
his own lightsaber, clashing blades with the other in what he
knew then to be a real battle. Confused, he fought, all the
time asking his superior what was happening, why he was doing
this, what Obi-Wan had done to upset him so. Mace was an
accomplished swordsman, one of the best on the council, and to
his growing fear, Obi-Wan knew he could not win. Would he be
killed? By a member of his own side's council? He was being
forced back, and he leapt into a summersault before the doors
could block his way, curling his body into a graceful ball and
flying over his opponent's head before unfolding to land and
block an upwards sweep of the deadly beam.
Qui-Gon blasted into the chamber with lightsaber ignited and
ready. He had sensed his padawan's confusion, bewilderment and
fear as soon as the unexpected battle had begun. He had sent no
query lest he should distract his apprentice during what felt -
from his end - like a true fight to the death. Instead he had
simply started out from the practise hall to the chamber, his
speed directed by the growing terror flooding their bond; not
fear of the battle, or even of death, but of something else.
When Qui-Gon saw who it was that Obi-Wan was fighting, he
understood why.
Qui-Gon's blade clashed with Mace's as it came toward him. But
Obi-Wan was there, launching himself into a blindingly fast
jump and connecting the base of his feet with Windu's back,
sending the other hurtling to the floor, sprawling as his
lightsaber disengaged and spun away from his grasp. Qui-Gon
picked it up carefully, fully aware of Mace's ability to
activate it using the Force and shielded it as best he could in
an attempt to render it safe.
Obi-Wan stood off to one side, lightsaber still fired, his
chest rising and falling with the exertion, his eyes never
leaving his opponent even now. There was a chilling confusion
in those once-innocent eyes. Qui-Gon watched him, casting out
with his senses to ensure his padawan was unhurt before turning
his attention to Mace Windu. "What in Force are you doing?"
Obi-Wan had never been popular with Windu. The soulbond he had
formed at a very early age with Qui-Gon had all but destroyed
the budding relationship between the Jedi masters. When Obi-Wan
had been five years old, Windu had reduced the little boy to
tears by refusing to allow him to leave a class early to
accompany his soulmate to a wedding. At the age of fourteen,
Obi-Wan had been similarly undone by a brutal description of a
vision Mace had once had detailing Qui-Gon's death.
As the young man had grown up, his close bond with his master
had been an issue of some disharmony in the council. But the
bond had been accepted by the pair, and now nothing and no one
could break it.
Windu continued to stare up at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon stared back.
"Why, Mace?"
Obi-Wan heard the grief in his master's voice, yet he still
could not take his eyes from the man who had so suddenly
attacked him. His fingers still clasped his lightsaber easily,
yet his hands had begun to tremble. Palms pressed downwards
against the wooden floor, Mace lifted his head and spat at his
one-time companion. Then he turned his head, pulling his body
up as he moved once again to his feet, his attention settling
on the disturbed young man standing away from him.
It happened in an instant. Mace's lightsaber flew from the
Force-enhanced grip in which Qui-Gon held it to its owners
hand, was ignited and arched across Obi-Wan's throat in an eye
blink. Obi-Wan stumbled back, a terrible broken cry of pain
escaping him, before he brought his own blade up to block
Mace's next strike. A moment later, the enemy struck again,
this time turning as he moved, aiming for Qui-Gon. Without a
second thought, Obi-Wan thrust his blade through their
attacker's body. Mace fell forward, dead by the time his body
contacted with the floor. Dead before his lightsaber could even
register it.
It took a few moments for the shock to clear, for both of
them. And then Obi-Wan was falling, his own lightsaber
clattering to the floor, his hand going to his injured throat,
his senses failing him. He passed out into the arms of his
master.
Yoda silently levitated himself onto the long bench next to
Qui-Gon, and overlaid his old padawan's hand with his own small
one. "Blame yourself you cannot, Qui-Gon. See it none of us
did."
"How many more, my Master?" The Jedi's voice was a whisper.
"He sat on the council and still none of us saw it. They may be
anywhere."
Yoda nodded, knowing Qui-Gon's sadness mirrored his own.
"Worry not about that now. How is he?" The ancient Jedi felt a
tear drop to his hand, and he tightened his little fingers
around one side of Qui-Gon's. "Pull through he will." The other
only nodded, reigning in his emotion with much difficulty.
"If I lost him now...."
Yoda sighed. "A soulbond you have, my Padawan. Deny it you
cannot. Survive it... none ever have. This you both know."
"And I accept it."
Yoda smiled softly at the utter conviction in the tone. "Know
that I do."
They waited for a time in silence, each there for the other,
each drawing comfort from the other. Both started when a healer
appeared in one of the doorways. "Master Qui-Gon Jinn."
Qui-Gon stood, feeling Yoda's fingers briefly squeeze his own
before releasing him.
Qui-Gon was led to the recovery area of the infirmary. Obi-Wan
was sleeping on a low bed, put under with gentle use of the
Force. He looked so small amongst the myriad of humming
machines and busy people, so young as he lay beneath the soft
blankets afforded him because of the shock his body had plunged
into. Qui-Gon settled into the seat next to the bed, stroking
his hand lightly over his padawan's hair, issuing a soft mental
reassurance before taking the cold hand from the fold of the
blankets in to his own.
Through Obi-Wan's entire life, Qui-Gon had sat in very few
vigils over his padawan. He had been a healthy child, catching
only one fever in his younger days - one that had been sweeping
the academy and that was considered best for all children to
contract while they were still in their infant years. As a
teenager, there had been two incidents. Broken bones from a
terrible fall during a routine field trip, and a terrifying
virus that had put the young one into the infirmary for many
weeks, causing Qui-Gon more worry than he could have believed a
Jedi Master capable of.
This time the concern was not just over the physical; the
deep, frightening wound to his neck and throat. Obi-Wan had
killed a man he had looked up to. He had slaughtered another in
the heat of the battle and although he would have died had he
not chosen that course, he now had to find a way to live with
it. Jedi only killed as a final resort. In all of Obi-Wan's
short life, he had never killed. Qui-Gon regarded him with a
heart filled with love and admiration. Obi-Wan had saved his
life, and by doing so had placed himself on a painful path.
Qui-Gon swore his padawan would not walk that path alone.
"Qui-Gon Jinn." Qui-Gon turned in surprise as Senator
Palpatine stepped up to his shoulder. "How is your young
apprentice?"
Qui-Gon tightened his hold on his soulmate's hand, not
completely understanding his reactions to Palpatine's presence,
but accepting them as Force guidance. "He will recover." The
other man's sickly smile did nothing to put the Jedi master at
ease.
"The council wish to speak with you. I could watch over him
while you are gone."
The screaming in his mind, prompted by the suggestion, could
only have been the Force, Qui-Gon surmised, and he could not
ignore them. As calmly as he could, he shook his head. "Thank
you, but Obi-Wan needs me. The council will wait."
There was a small sense of frustration from the senator, but
no outward signs of thwarted plans, and he simply wished them
both well and left.
Qui-Gon sat back, trying to quieten the voices in his mind,
trying to make some sense of them while keeping his discomfort
from the bond he shared with his sleeping ward. He managed to
hush them, to separate the words from the nonsense, to begin to
hear what they were saying. They were not Force-guided voices.
They were emotions; anger, hatred, grief. They were not his.
And they were directed against his padawan. Qui-Gon looked back
at the doorway.
Leaving Obi-Wan's side for just a moment, Qui-Gon found a
padawan healer. "I need you to find Master Yoda for me,
urgently. Could you do that please?"
The young man nodded quickly and left in search of the council
leader. Qui-Gon returned to his apprentice's side, sitting
carefully on the edge of the bed. Sighing softly, he slipped
Obi-Wan's braid through his fingers, a gesture of thought, of
affection, one he had done ever since the hair had been long
enough. Obi-Wan hated his braid, claiming it did nothing but
get in the way. Qui-Gon loved it, loved the honey colour of his
padawan's hair, the tickling ends that fountained from the last
leather tie of his braid. He loved Obi-Wan, with all his heart
and everything that was his soul.
Their bond had been chosen by the Force. Qui-Gon had been
aware of a part of himself being missing, had recognised the
feeling as one half of a soulbond, but for years he had no idea
who had been selected for him. Until a young boy had entered
his life. Then, he had known. On Obi-Wan's sixteenth birthday,
the council had given them both the choice to reject the bond.
They would never be able to see each other again, the mental
connection that was naturally blossoming between them would be
severed by all the council members acting together to
manipulate the Force. It could be done. But the pair had both
to want the separation. Neither did. The bond had flourished.
They had kept their relationship as platonic as had been
possible. It had not been as easy as they believed it would be.
Once they had both accepted that a physical relationship would
eventually develop between them, desire had flared up like
wildfire. Many, many nights had been spent clasped in each
other's arms, mouths engulfed, hands fumbling for the simplest
touch of flesh. Cold tents in forest clearings on strange
planets, simple single beds in shelters as they played at
peacekeepers, luxurious suites in palaces when negotiations
were their mission; all kinds of places had seen the power and
desperation of their need. Yet for a whole year, they had not
consummated the bond.
They had agreed at the beginning to wait until Obi-Wan was a
knight. Then they would be equals. Then the stresses of having
to bury a part of their relationship through the daylight
hours, on missions, in company, would not weigh heavily upon
them. Qui-Gon was losing his resistance with every day that he
spent in his beautiful padawan's company. In recent weeks the
kissing and caressing had eased up a notch in its intensity.
Qui-Gon had found himself becoming increasingly distracted by
Obi-Wan's presence, by the scent of his clean skin after his
morning shower, the aroma of his sweaty body after practise. He
knew he was reaching his own limits. He knew Obi-Wan was too.
This morning he had been filled with hope regarding the
evenings ahead, and the change he would push for, knowing his
padawan would accept with equal fervour.
Now all that desire for Obi-Wan had been replaced by worry and
fear for his safety. The dark side wanted his padawan. He would
not be given.
Running gentle fingers over the white dressing that covered the
deep wound, Qui-Gon told his Obi-Wan that he loved him. That he
would always love him. That they would never be separated. The
least he could do for the one who had captured his heart and
saved his life.
He turned when he felt Master Yoda enter the room, and another
detail surged up through his consciousness; he had not sensed
Palpatine's entrance. Had he been shielding? If so, that made
him something more than just a senator. It made him very
dangerous indeed.
"Master Yoda. Thank you for returning." Qui-Gon stood,
following his master to the window so that they might talk
without disturbing Obi-Wan.
"The padawan healer seemed... hurried." Yoda was obviously
amused by Qui-Gon's messenger.
"I'm sorry, my master, I felt it best not to leave Obi-Wan
unprotected."
Yoda's slight change in expression surprised Qui-Gon. He had
expected a question, instead he was faced only with approval.
"Great danger is he in now." The words were quietly spoken, yet
they pounded into Qui-Gon's head with the force of a storm. For
a moment, the constriction in his chest made it difficult to
breathe, as difficult as it was to accept the knowledge he was
now being forced to realise.
"It is Senator Palpatine, my Master." Qui-Gon uttered the
words without being sure how he did so. He was rewarded by the
surprise that shaped Yoda's face. So they had known there was
one, but not whom.
"Suspected we did that a master's presence. Palpatine we
suspected not. Mace... we saw not."
Qui-Gon nodded, the pain in his soul easing. It made sense
that the council had not informed anyone of their suspicions.
As carefully and respectfully as he could, Qui-Gon asked, "Did
you knowingly use my padawan - my soulmate - as bait?" He
expected rage, disappointment, disapproval. Not the lowering of
the long ears. Not the sadness that filled the eyes. "My
Master...."
"Use him we did not." Yoda told him gently. "A target he has
always been." He sighed, obviously still unsure this was
information Qui-Gon should have. "Obi-Wan... the chosen one is
he."
Qui-Gon almost laughed. The concept was so ridiculous that it
merited laughter. Or it would have done if Yoda had not now
been regarding him with such sorrow. "My Master, he cannot be.
I would know, I would sense it."
"Too close you are. Shields he does, unknowingly. Knows
himself he does not."
"I would feel his shields. We are soulmates, bonded."
"Bonded within his shields you are. Stand amongst the trees
you can, but see the forest you cannot."
Qui-Gon stared. He knew he was staring. But the idea that his
own padawan was the Jedi fated to bring balance to the Force
simply stunned him. He knew the legends - all Jedi did - but he
had imagined that when and if this mythical being appeared,
they would all know, would be blinded by the Force around that
being. His gaze fell on Obi-Wan, sleeping peacefully, thank the
Force.
"Tell me of your concerns you must, Qui-Gon."
"I love him, My Master," Qui-Gon stated simply. "This is not
what I wished for him."
"Wish this on no one would I. Know he should not. Lead him
will the Force. Lead you both."
The figure on the bed moved, his arm twitching. Both masters
saw it. "Go to him now will you. Speak later we will."
Qui-Gon nodded, still barely able to accept what he had been
told. He returned to his padawan's side, to comfort and ease
the beginnings of a nightmare.
"Obi-Wan." //My love, rest, there is nothing to haunt you
here.//
The reassurances fell on deaf ears. Obi-Wan continued to fight
his dreamed foe, his movements become more violent, whimpers -
screams in his mind - escaped his lips until Qui-Gon could no
more watch this continue than he could walk away. From his seat
on the side of the bed, he leaned down and gathered his padawan
into his arms. Sitting Obi-Wan up against his body, he soothed
him as he had through the padawan's childhood. Qui-Gon stroked
his hair and rubbed his back, murmuring to Obi-Wan that he was
safe, that nothing could hurt him.
The padawan woke in his master's embrace, startled by the
vivid images still remaining in his mind's eye. Qui-Gon smiled
when stormy eyes settled on him. "Just a dream. It's over now,
Padawan." But he knew it wasn't, might never be. Obi-Wan
allowed himself to rest against the solid form of his master.
"You will be all right." Carefully, he laid his ward back onto
the bed and pulled the blankets over him. Obi-Wan continued to
stare at him.
"Is he... dead?" The beautiful voice was strained, roughened
by the healing 'saber burn.
"Yes, my Padawan, he is. You acted in self-defence and saved
my life." Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan's hands, holding them gently.
"He had turned, Beloved. You had no choice."
"I... I don't understand...." But the exhaustion in the tone
soon had Obi-Wan back in its grip, and he slipped under again,
sleeping peacefully for the time being.
He paced his luxurious quarters, trying to shake the death cry
of his apprentice from his mind. Grief was not a part of the
Dark Side; anger, hatred, revenge, these were fitting emotions
for him now. Seeing Kenobi lying - healing - in the infirmary,
protected now by his master and, no doubt, the rest of the
council had spurned all these dark emotions within him.
The council knew, and now they would warn Qui-Gon Jinn. Kenobi
could have been turned - even the chosen one was not immune to
seduction, if it were done with violence and brutality. It
would not have been pleasant, but he would have submitted
eventually. Not now. Kenobi was half of a soulbond. That was
his protection, that was why the Force had chosen to join two
exceptional Jedi. It was protecting itself. If the chosen one
turned, it would have meant disaster, defeat and total
annihilation for the Force and its regimes.
Palpatine stared at the city living below him. Oh, Kenobi
would have been beautiful in the Dark. All that power, that
energy, pouring his self into the Dark Side, freeing all that
the Force kept from him. His potential was seductive in itself.
He would be a great Jedi knight. Already was there no match to
his skills. His foresight, his swordsmanship, his control, all
honed to perfection by his innate heritage. His only fault was
that he did not see in himself what he was. He idolised not his
own person, but his master, his soulmate. He believed that the
Knight could teach him all there was to learn. He looked
outwards for his lessons instead of inwards.
The raging fire that burned within him urged him to seek a way
to remove Kenobi from all the safety and protection afforded
him. His hunger for revenge made him long to hurt the padawan
held so dear by his master and the council. Kenobi was
surrounded by love, by warmth, and that alone was enough to
keep the Dark Side far from his soul. Take that away and he
would easily crumple. But take that away he could not. The
soulbond seared them to one another, master to padawan and
later knight to knight. They would never separate, and even
physically apart they were mentally entwined. When one flagged,
the other gave the strength needed to continue. When one hurt,
the other healed. A symbiotic relationship. An eternal
relationship. Unbreakable.
Palpatine began once again to pace the thick carpet. He could
see nothing but a dead end, a brick wall splashed with his
apprentice's blood, spilled by a Jedi padawan he loathed. Under
the calm exterior he seethed. Somehow he would revenge Mace's
death.
Qui-Gon stood in the doorway of Obi-Wan's room, just watching
his apprentice. After Windu's attack a few days ago, the
injuries his padawan had suffered had healed quickly and would
soon leave only mental scars. Obi-Wan was to be released from
the infirmary today, into his master's loving care. The young
man was already dressed in a loose tunic and leggings, and was
sitting crosslegged on his bed, his back to the door, facing
out of the ceiling-to-floor window.
Qui-Gon could feel the turmoil of his soulmate's mind. Obi-Wan
somehow had managed to find a way to blame himself for Mace's
actions. The Jedi master had always known that his padawan
could do anything if he put his mind to it, but this was going
too far.
Quietly, although he knew Obi-Wan to be aware of his presence,
Qui-Gon stepped to the bed and sat up on it, behind his
padawan. Leaning on one arm, he rested the other against
Obi-Wan's back, meaning the touch to be supportive and
reassuring. Obi-Wan smiled, but did not turn from the window.
"Share your thoughts with me, Obi."
A moment later, Obi-Wan was crying. Silent tears slipped from
his eyes and fell to his arms, folded in his lap. //Padawan//
Qui-Gon made the word into a gentle, soothing caress, an
endearment that held all his feeling for his apprentice.
Obi-Wan choked back a sob, trying to control the emotion that
was overwhelming him. Meditation had merely brought all to the
forefront of his mind. "I find myself... experiencing...
difficulty... reconciling what I did with your teachings."
Qui-Gon felt his heart clench. "Obi..." the name was a simple
breath of sorrow. "My Obi-Wan. Don't look to my lessons to
guide you through this."
A heaving sob enveloped Obi-Wan. He fell forward, his hands
covering his face. "What... else... is... there?" he managed to
choke out.
"Beloved." Qui-Gon sat up, wrapping his arms around his
soulmate's waist, holding him tenderly. "There's your heart,
our soul. Look to yourself, to us. You did what you had to,
there was no choice, no decision to be made. You saved my life,
your life, our life. We are trained to do what we must, always
guided by the Force. You must know, must understand what you
did, and that the Force was with you when you acted. The answer
to coping is within you. Believe in yourself, my Padawan, as I
believe in you, as we believe in us."
Tears poured down Obi-Wan's face as he turned and scrambled
into his master's arms. Qui-Gon enfolded his padawan in his
arms, wrapping him in all that his master was, keeping him safe
from the rest of the universe and daring it to try anything.
A healer stepped into the room to check on her patient. At the
sight that befell her she stepped out again.
Qui-Gon stroked his hand over Obi-Wan's hair, hushing him
softly, comforting as he always had. "I love you, Padawan," he
whispered into the soft spiky hair, the words meaning so much
more than the affection they conveyed. "And I am so very proud
of you." The shaking body in his arms burrowed impossibly
closer. "You fill the empty places in my heart, you complete my
soul. You make everything so bright and clear. Only you, Obi.
My beloved, only you."
Outside the window, the sun glowed amber, casting long shadows
into the room and over the bed. Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan all the
time he needed to cry himself out, nothing came before his
soulmate. When he hurt, the universe had to wait until he
healed. When he slept, Qui-Gon wondered now if the universe
quieted for him. Qui-Gon knew deep in his heart, despite his
training and upbringing, despite the code he lived by, he knew
that Obi-Wan would always come first, would always be what was
most important to him, in his life. In their life. That thought
always made him smile.
In the nest of his arms, Qui-Gon felt his padawan's sobs ease,
felt him snuggle in, seeking calm rather than comfort. Qui-Gon
loosened his hold just slightly, enough that Obi-Wan could
raise his head to regard him with stormy eyes. The master
placed a kiss on his student's forehead. "You will find the
answer, Beloved," he whispered quietly. Obi-Wan nodded, knowing
he would, trusting in his master's words. Qui-Gon moved to
stroke his hand over Obi-Wan's hair again, and Obi-Wan caught
it, fingers stroking the palm.
"You always catch me when I'm falling."
"Of course." Qui-Gon wrapped his fingers around Obi-Wan's damp
ones. "As you do for me. No use having your own dedicated
lifeline if you don't use it once in a while."
Obi-Wan leaned his head against his master's chest, smiling,
sniffling and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his robe. He
stayed there for a time before asking, "Can we go home?"
"Yes. Let me take care of you now."
Their rooms had been cleaned, tided and the kitchen stocked.
Padawans and masters usually ate in the main dining hall, but
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were away from Coruscant so frequently that
they had been allocated rooms with a small food preparation and
cooking area. They were forced to eat in public so very often
that meals in their rooms, away from others with just
themselves for company were a luxury they both more than
appreciated.
Qui-Gon got Obi-Wan settled onto the couch before disappearing
to make them a lunchtime snack. Obi-Wan picked up his book,
left on the low table from sometime before. He found his place
and read a sentence or two before closing it again. His mind
was too occupied to concentrate on the finer points of a
Klactic murder-mystery plot.
Everything Qui-Gon had said to him that morning made sense,
yet his internal balance was still off-set by the guilt he
felt. Master Windu had attacked him. He had foug into his own mind. Whispers of his memories slipped passed him,
and he caught the tendrils of self-doubt that lay behind his
current mental state. He knew, once the main issue was dealt
with, self-doubt could be easily disposed of. A morning of
sparring with his master would reaffirm his innate confidence
of his own abilities.
This time as an observer, he replayed the fight in his mind,
watching closely as Master Windu turned on him, taking him
totally by surprise. He felt the echo of his own shock. And he
caught his unconscious cry for help. Sorrowful, Obi-Wan opened
his eyes. Qui-Gon was crouching before him, and the wonderful
aroma of cooked pastries wafted from the low table beside them.
"Padawan?"
"I found the source of my guilt, Master."
Qui-Gon joined his apprentice in the meditative position,
taking his place opposite Obi-Wan, waiting until his student
was ready to speak. "I called to you, when Master Windu
attacked. I didn't remember before, but I saw it in my memory.
I shouldn't have called for you, I should have fought the
battle myself."
Qui-Gon's only reaction was to tilt his head slightly to one
side.
"What makes you think that you should have faced a highly
skilled Jedi Master alone?"
Obi-Wan smiled at his master, recognizing this line of
questioning. "Because I too am a highly skilled Jedi."
"You are a Padawan, Obi-Wan, a trainee. What's more you are
my padawan and my soulmate." Qui-Gon reached for
Obi-Wan's hands. "If it makes you feel better, what I heard
from you was surprise and confusion. I came to your assistance
as you would certainly come to mine under similar
circumstances." Obi-Wan was quiet for a time.
"Would you eat while you are considered my words, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan smiled and nodded. "Yes, Master." The term held
affection and some amusement which relieved Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan
could take a simple action and turn it inside out, hunting for
meaning when there was none. Then again, he could look at the
most complex of problems and see the solution in a single
moment. Qui-Gon smiled to himself as he realized he loved his
padawan's mind as strongly and deeply as he loved his spirit,
and his body.
//All that you are, Obi//
Obi-Wan graced his master with a bountiful smile as he reached
over and picked up the tray of pastries from the table.
Offering Qui-Gon one, he selected one for himself and placed
the tray on the floor beside them. They sat in a familiar
silence for a time, eating and thinking. Qui-Gon was more than
willing to allow his padawan the time he needed to sort through
all that was clouding his reason.
"I ended a life, Master." Obi-Wan stated finally. "How do I go
on with my own existence knowing that?"
"You take it into yourself, Obi-Wan. You accept that you did
your duty, you obeyed the Force's guidance and what you did was
in self-defence. This will not be the last time, Padawan. In
battle, there are always victors and losers. Each side will
always suffer. You are a Jedi, trained and bound to protect
those too weak to protect themselves and fight those who would
do injustice to others. You will fight battles, you will kill
those who would otherwise kill you. It is the way of the
universe, Padawan. Accept that. Use it to strengthen yourself."
Night fell over Coruscant. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn slept
peacefully, lying on his side in his large bed, one hand
clasping that of the young man lying with him. Obi-Wan lay
awake, staring at the high ceiling, trying to calm his
thoughts. Finally, he could be still no longer and he rose,
throwing his master's gown around his shoulders and pulling the
long curtain of material about him. Silently, he walked through
to the living area, grabbing a cushion from the couch and
making himself comfortable on the wide staging in front of the
long window.
Below, in the courtyard, two padawans sat talking despite the
hour. Their conversation seemed friendly and easy, and it made
Obi-Wan smile at his own memories of nights spent in similar
ways.
All that Qui-Gon had said to him through the day had made him
realize that his actions would always have consequences for
them both. His life was precious not because every life was,
but because his soul was only one half, and if it was to become
one with the Force, the other half would follow. Qui-Gon had
spoken, at the time of its forming, about his fears that his
natural death would end Obi-Wan's life prematurely. Obi-Wan had
never considered that his own death would mean an early end to
his master's life.
He thought back to that time, to one morning's sparring and
Qui-Gon's expression of his worries.
"We will always fight as one, Obi-Wan. We will walk into
battles together and know the moves of the other as if we were
one being. But that would happen if we remained merely padawan
and master. The soulbond would carry that through. We would
live as one being, and die as one being."
He sighed, turning his thoughts.
Qui-Gon and Mace Windu had been friends for years, Obi-Wan
knew. Qui-Gon had spoken, during his padawan's time in the
infirmary, of his sadness at his friend's turning. Yet he had
spoken about it in terms of self-will. Master Windu had made
his own decision to embrace the Dark Side. Maybe one day they
would discover why. But Qui-Gon had said that he doubted it.
"When a Jedi turns, Obi-Wan, it is usually for reasons he or
she does not talk about to others. Were they to do so, those
reasons would probably become immaterial, or would at least
lose their intensity."
Obi-Wan would never turn. It was something he just knew with
all the conviction of his being. Qui-Gon would always bind him
to the light, but beyond that Obi-Wan just understood that he
could not be turned. It was what every Jedi swore yet none
other knew with such utter certainty.
Obi-Wan looked across at his master as he padded naked toward
him. "Your robe looks so silly on me, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon
chuckled quietly, seating himself close to his padawan, taking
the young man into his arms. Obi-Wan went willingly.
"I apologize, Master. You know how I love to wear your robe."
"Maybe I should let you have that one and requisition
another."
"Then this one would not be yours, it would be mine. I like to
wear yours."
Qui-Gon sighed in defeat. "At least then yours wouldn't look
quite so silly on me." In his arms, Obi-Wan shifted until he
was leaning back against him. The padawan could smell the fine
scent of his master's faint sweat. It distracted his mind from
its worries and refocused his attention on the naked Jedi
behind him. Relaxing at last, he let his head drop back to
Qui-Gon's shoulder, hair tickling the skin there. Qui-Gon found
the end of Obi-Wan's braid against the back of his hand and
took it into his fingers, playing the soft, delicate strands of
hair against his palm. He remembered tying off that braid for
the first time, so unware even then of what the boy would come
to mean to him, of how the man he was to grow into would become
his life. Even knowing the soulbond.
Raising his free hand, Qui-Gon lifted the robe back from
Obi-Wan's right shoulder, giving himself access to the
sculpured flesh beneath. His padawan moaned softly as he
touched his lips first to the shoulder itself, and then to the
base of Obi-Wan's neck. "You should try to get some sleep, my
Padawan."
Obi-Wan nodded slightly, but made no move to rise. Instead he
lifted his hand to stroke the back of his master's neck, under
the cascade of dark hair streaked with silver. He felt Qui-Gon
push his lips into the short hair behind his ear, and leaned
into the kiss. "I've tried to sleep, Qui-Gon. My mind is too
active."
"Thinking about what, Beloved?" Qui-Gon's tongue licked a
lingering path along the curve of the back of Obi-Wan's right
ear, nipping the sensitive shape at the tip before retracing
his way back down. In his arms, Obi-Wan shuddered slightly.
"About Master Windu, and the Dark Side."
Qui-Gon trailed a single fingertip up over the line of the
back of his padawan's neck, feeling the knots of the spine.
"Isn't the nature of religion a little heavy a topic for this
time of night, my beloved?" Obi-Wan swallowed a moan when
Qui-Gon's fingers began a light, teasing path over his jaw,
catching on the day's growth of beard there. "That... may be,
Master," he said, struggling now to keep his voice steady, "but
the time of day does not seem to stop my mind from working, nor
does my need for sleep."
Qui-Gon caught the exhaustion in those words and the beautiful
tone. He smiled against Obi-Wan's neck. "Would you allow me to
help, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan turned his head until he could meet the incandescent
eyes of his master. "It has been a long while since you put me
to sleep."
"Yes, it has. Insomnia is not an affliction that you usually
suffer from, my heart." Qui-Gon stoked a large palm over his
padawan's cheek. Will you let me?" After a moment's
deliberation, Obi-Wan nodded. "Then let us return to bed. If we
sleep here we shall both ache in the morning."
Having stripped off the robe, Obi-Wan settled into his
master's protective embrace. Lying on his side, with Qui-Gon at
his back, the young Jedi closed his eyes and concentrated on
the sound of his master's quiet voice, lulling him with words
of love and soothing. As he kept up the hypnotic stream of
endearments and Jedi phrases, Qui-Gon reached into Obi-Wan's
mind, finding the bright light that he was always aware of at
the end of their bond and wrapping himself around it, using the
Force to subtly quiet his padawan's subconscious. Slowly,
blanketed in warmth, soothed by the voice, and lulled by the
Force, Obi-Wan slept without dreams.
He woke refreshed, feeling relaxed and calm for the first time
in days. He was lying on his back, Qui-Gon on his side next to
him, facing him, his master's breath tickling the fine hairs on
his shoulder. Turning silently, Obi-Wan pushed his arm under
the pillow, supporting his head so that he might watch his
master sleep. How long had it been since he realized how
beautiful Qui-Gon was?
He had fallen in love with the man at his side well before his
age allowed him to take steps to quell the burning urges. The
soulbond, Qui-Gon had explained, would make certain that one
day they would become lovers, would forsake all others forever
and would never desire anyone else. Those words, spoken when he
was already wrestling with the natural changes of his body in
its transition from boy to man, had only served to frustrate
Obi-Wan more. As always in his life, he had looked to Qui-Gon
for the answers to his desperate questions. And Qui-Gon had
delicately explained to him the nature of sex, the rewards of
masturbation and the suggestion of experimentation with others
his own age. The suggestion had shocked and appalled Obi-Wan.
He had wanted no other but his master, and had stated as much.
But Qui-Gon had seemingly thrown his admission of love back in
his face, and Obi-Wan had been hurt by that. The same night he
had gone in search of someone - anyone - in whom he could bury
himself and his aching desire. Instead, someone had found him,
and his first time had very nearly happened by force, in a
shaded spot in the academy grounds. If it had not been for
Qui-Gon's reactions to his padawan's mental cry of terror.
He had come to Obi-Wan's aid then, as he had done every other
time his padawan had needed him. Yet their roles had often been
reversed. Obi-Wan prided himself on the fact that his master
could rely on him to do or say whatever was required in
volatile or dangerous situations. He had fought many times at
his master's side, supported Qui-Gon in diplomatic situations
and political wranglings. He knew Qui-Gon was proud of him.
That was all he had ever really wanted from his training; to
please his master.
Obi-Wan smiled at his own thoughts. Hardly! he scolded
himself. The soulbond, as he grew older, had developed within
him those other needs, sometimes greater than even he could
bare. He could feel that now, feel the other's longing as he
longed to complete the bond, to end their futile fasting and to
take Qui-Gon - urge Qui-Gon to take him - until they were both
unable to walk.
Sensing Qui-Gon coming awake, Obi-Wan reached out and touched
the ends of the long hair that cascaded around the strong
features of his master's face. The silky strands were one of
Obi-Wan's earliest memories. As a child, he remembered (and
Qui-Gon always liked to remind him when he required a way to
turn his padawan red), he loved to take up the long hair into
his small hands and press his face into it. He loved the feel
of that silk against his skin. For his seventeenth birthday,
Qui-Gon had given him a deep blue spun-silk shirt. He still had
it, still loved to wear it.
Obi-Wan curled the hair around his fingers, minding not to
disturb his master. It astounded him how much he loved this
man. How much he was loved in return. There was nothing more
familiar to him than the features of his master's face, the
timbre of his voice, the warmth of a laugh seldom heard by
others but shared so willingly with his soulmate.
Qui-Gon opened his eyes and smiled at the intensity with which
he was being watched. "Did you sleep well, Obi-Wan?"
"I did," a rueful smile accompanied the admittance, "thanks to
you."
"You needed rest. And there is nothing to fear in allowing me
to assist you in getting what you need." Qui-Gon moved forward,
wrapping his leg over Obi-Wan's, pressing close to his
apprentice, kissing him lightly. "Good morning, Beloved."
"Good morning, Master." Qui-Gon had lately found himself
wondering at how his student could at times make the word
'Master' sound like the term of seniority and respect that it
actually was, and at others turn it into an endearment of equal
love and affection.
Obi-Wan returned the kiss, deeper and for longer. Naked, and
so close together, their bodies could hide no secrets.
Qui-Gon's arousal met that of his padawan that had been
simmering for some time. The kiss grew more ardent as they
pressed closer to one another, marvelling in the myriad
sensations that the touches created. Obi-Wan wriggled his top
leg in between Qui-Gon's two, crushing his own erection against
his soulmate's stomach, trapping Qui-Gon's between his thighs.
Qui-Gon groaned harshly into the kiss, arms winding tightly
against his padawan as if he intended to try to escape. Obi-Wan
pulled his arm out from under his head with some difficulty,
and slipped it under Qui-Gon's neck, drawing him closer if that
were possible.
It could have happened then, they both wanted it so much.
They both pulled back at the same moment. Not like this, not
after so long, not without so much as a discussion or an
agreement. In silent understanding, Qui-Gon rose, stumbling
into the bathing room and into the shower. Obi-Wan watched,
almost drooling, as the vague image of his master masturbating
in the shower was afforded him through the open door and the
frosted glass. With commendable willpower he quelled his own
desires, knowing deep within him that by sunset he would have
his Qui-Gon finally, soul and body.
Obi-Wan watched his fingers in the mirror as he rewound the
leather and thread ties around his hair to recreate his braid.
Unintentionally, he kept glancing down to the mark still
visible across his throat. It was a constant reminder of the
battle he had fought and the tragic consequences. It would be
gone in a few days, and then the only reminders would be his
memories that came alive in his dreams.
He sensed Qui-Gon behind him before his master stepped into
view. He was turned gently, and the taller man took up the
tying of his padawan braid. "How are you feeling, my love?"
"I don't know," Obi-Wan answered truthfully. "Everyone's being
so... patient with me. So... nice." He tilted his head up.
"It's not what I expected, Master, nor what I need."
Qui-Gon caught the almost pleading tone in his padawan's
voice, and he sympathized. The council knew now that their
secret was out, and they were going to painful lengths on the
one hand to protect Obi-Wan yet on the other to hide the truth
from him. The result was a great deal of false politeness that
Obi-Wan had seen through from the very start. He knew something
had changed, and if it were left the seeds of doubt and
self-recrimination would become a part of Obi-Wan that the Dark
Side could use against him; against them all. Qui-Gon would not
sit by and watch that happen to his soulmate. Obi-Wan needed to
know, and he had a right to know.
He tied off the braid and stroked his fingers over the
delicate lock of hair that fell from the final leather tie.
Obi-Wan caught his longing expression and smiled gently,
leaning up to meet his soulmate's mouth with his own. "I want
to end this teasing, Qui-Gon," he murmured softly. "Please."
Qui-Gon pulled away with a concerted effort. "As do I, Obi.
But first, I have something to tell you." Immediately Obi-Wan
feared the worst, and felt along their bond for the source of
his master's distraction. But he could see nothing wrong there.
Qui-Gon smiled when he sensed Obi-Wan's search. "It is nothing
that will cause us harm, my beloved. It can only make us
stronger." The words did nothing to ease Obi-Wan's fears, but
he mentally backed away, trusting his master to tell him
whatever it might be. "Not here. Let us go for a walk." Yet he
lingered a moment longer at his padawan's shoulder before
leading the way.
The Scantle flowers were full bloom, filling the air with the
scent of the new season. Obi-Wan followed at his master's side
until they were far from the temple, deep in the gardens where
they knew they were alone and would not be overheard nor
disturbed. Qui-Gon led them down to a small pond and they sat
side by side on the short grass; Obi-Wan with his legs out to
one side, leaning on his arm, Qui-Gon crosslegged, almost a
meditative pose.
"What I have to tell you is something I found out only a few
days ago, after you were taken to the infirmary. I did not
believe it then, as you will not now. Yet the council believe
it with their very souls. And Mace Windu tried to kill you
because of it."
Obi-Wan looked away, across the pond. His voice was quiet as
he asked, "They think I'm special, don't they? Some kind of
'chosen one'."
Qui-Gon stared. "You know...?"
"I've always known." There was no pride in his tone, not even
acceptance. Just a statement of a fact he had lived with all
his life, like breathing. "I can feel it... something... in my
mind. Like silent voices." He shook his head slowly, lowering
his eyes to the grass, picking at it absently. "If I listen to
them closely I can hear the future." He spoke the words softly,
without inflection. They sat in silence for a while, Qui-Gon
not knowing quite what to say until he heard his padawan ask
sadly, "Do you no longer wish to be bonded to me?"
Qui-Gon's head snapped around, and he reached out, his grip
tight on his apprentice's shoulder. "Never think that. I love
you. My feelings for you are no more simple, no more complex. I
would want our bond no matter what. You are my soulmate. There
is no question of that, as there is no question of my wanting
you with me always." Obi-Wan smiled up at him, the sun catching
his changing eyes, playing in his red-gold hair. At that moment
he looked as innocent as the child he had once been and Qui-Gon
moved his hand from the shoulder to the neck, stroking softly
with his thumb. "Besides, chosen one or not, you are still my
padawan."
There was humour in the words, and Obi-Wan sighed, relieved.
"I would have mentioned it, one day," he assured. "It just
seemed so very difficult to bring up the subject."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Not really a conversation for the dining
hall is it, Love?"
Obi-Wan shook his head, leaning into the touch that remained
at his neck. "What happens now?" he inquired tentatively.
"Now, we sit here for a while until we feel ready to return to
our rooms and give in to the desires we have been wisely, yet
vainly holding out on."
Obi-Wan smiled, and sighed, but Qui-Gon knew he had concerns
and fears they had not yet addressed. The master Jedi moved on
his hands and knees until he was sitting behind his padawan.
Thankfully, Obi-Wan leaned into him, back pressed to his
master's chest, wrapped in the protective embrace that had
always been his sanctuary. "Talk to me, Padawan."
"I'm concerned about the council, Master. I honestly do not
know how much longer I can live under their...." He struggled
to find the words.
"Their unseen, yet highly visible meddling in your freedom and
way of life." Qui-Gon's apprentice nodded gratefully. "I will
speak with them, Padawan."
"Thank you."
For a while they sat again in comfortable silence. Never alone
in their own minds, the two had always been seen to sit like
this, sometimes for hours, not seeming to say anything yet
having entire conversations only they would ever be privy to.
Now, though, Obi-Wan's mind was quiet as he watched the
sunlight play in the water of the pond. Small fishes would
periodically flit at the surface of the water, leaving the
ripples to fade away.
"What is expected of me, Master?" Obi-Wan asked finally.
Qui-Gon tightened his hold around his padawan's waist and
rested his chin in the soft golden spikes of Obi-Wan's hair.
"You are expected to become a great Jedi Knight, my beloved.
You will become one. You know your trails cannot and will not
be faced alone." They had discussed this, and the council had
agreed that being as Obi-Wan would never be without Qui-Gon due
to the soulbond, his trials when they came would not require
him to endure without Qui-Gon. The Jedi master privately
thought that the council were merely waiting for them to
encounter a situation during one of their missions that would
later be heralded as Obi-Wan's trail, after the fact. It was
better that way. To be parted from Obi-Wan, for even a few
weeks, was more than the master could handle. "And then,
Obi-Wan Kenobi, you and I will face the universe as one. The
guardians of peace and justice. The most passionate lovers the
worlds have ever known."
Obi-Wan twisted in Qui-Gon's embrace until they were face to
face, Obi-Wan's thighs rested over Qui-Gon's legs, his arms
twisted around his master's neck. The kiss started out as
loving, swiftly became deep; an expression of the need and
desire pent up in both of them. When Obi-Wan broke away, he
leaned back. "I only ever wanted to be yours."
"You are, as I am yours, body and soul." Qui-Gon swept his
hand over his padawan's hair. "You are special and precious to
me. You always have been and we both know you always will be."
Again lips met in a kiss of passion. Qui-Gon slipped his arms
around Obi-Wan and lifted him, standing as his padawan's arms
circled his neck. Fuck decorum, fuck setting an example.
Qui-Gon carried Obi-Wan back to their rooms.
By the time they were leaning back on the closed door inside
their shared living area, Obi-Wan had his legs wound around his
master's waist and Qui-Gon was clutching his beloved to him,
one hand supporting his ass, the other cupping the back of his
head. Obi-Wan's lips were tracing a burning path over Qui-Gon's
neck and shoulder, nibbling and licking his way across and up
until reaching the shell of his master's ear. Qui-Gon groaned
when his padawan's tongue slipped inside his ear, the sound
sending a shiver of heat down Obi-Wan's spine. He nipped the
lobe, dipping the tip of his tongue into the shallow cave of
the ear. Qui-Gon's groan deepened, his clutch on his padawan
tightening as if he believed he could drop his precious
apprentice. Finally his knees would not take much more and he
managed to make it into his larger bedroom to dump Obi-Wan onto
the kingsize bed he earned because of his rank and age. Obi-Wan
always said it was one of the perks of having an older lover.
As their hands found their way over each other's bodies,
searching out the pleasure spots previous explorations had
discovered, the soulbond sang with the high note of desire.
They needed an end to the waiting, to the tension. Clothes were
shed with the urgency pressing now against their minds. Qui-Gon
found himself reduced to a breathless, quaking form by his
lover's mouth and tongue roaming over his skin. He himself
remembered that he could collapse Obi-Wan simply by biting his
nipples, and was rewarded by a shriek of exquisite pleasure
when his teeth fastened to a hard nub and flicked his tongue
over the dark skin.
After that, Obi-Wan wanted revenge. He somehow managed to curl
his whole body over Qui-Gon's and turn his master onto his
stomach. With his legs he parted Qui-Gon's thighs, and half
lying on his master's back, he parted the firm buttocks the
position presented to him and kissed a path down the cleft to
the puckered muscle. Qui-Gon jerked back against him when he
swept his tongue over his master's anus then returned to delve
inside his body. A long moan crossed with a torturous cry
escaped Qui-Gon's throat and he attempted to thrust back
against the squirming tongue reaching within him. But he could
not. Obi-Wan was deep now, lips pressed against the outside of
the tight ring, base of his tongue stretching Qui-Gon in a way
that felt so different from their usual fingering of one
another. A finger could be gripped, pushed and pulled. A tongue
could not be. Qui-Gon just had to lie there and take it.
Obi-Wan finally relented, moving down to drop his head between
his master's thighs and lather the back of his testicles,
sucking first one then the other into his greedy mouth. Qui-Gon
shuddered, losing any shreds of pride he might have been
clinging to when he began to grind his own painful erection
into the bedclothes beneath him. When Obi-Wan's hand slipped
under him and gripped his cock tightly, Qui-Gon yelled a bright
profanity into the silence of the room.
"Obi-Wan, please, by everything... please, take me, fuck me,
get that gorgeous cock of yours inside me, just do it.... End
this torture!"
Finally, Obi-Wan penetrated his master slowly and gently,
knowing he would be the only one to ever be there from now on.
His taking was an act of love and need, claim and possession.
As he thrust into Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan began to feel a pulsing
within his mind as strong as it was within his groin. //the
soulbond// He spoke joyously into his master's mind.
//yes, beloved, we are becoming one another//
The intimate caress of his master's voice in his mind was the
final push to Obi-Wan's already stretched control. He yelled
hard, pumping into his master, feeling the slick channel
squeezing and stroking him. Qui-Gon turned his padawan,
bringing them face to face. "I love you, Obi-Wan."
"Qui-Gon, you're my life, my soulmate. I love you with my
heart and soul." Everything Qui-Gon had put into his tone,
Obi-Wan chose to put into words. "Now I want you inside me."
Obi-Wan's orgasm relaxed his body, making Qui-Gon's entry easy
and painless even without preparation. The intense sensation of
being penetrated by something a lot thicker than a finger drove
Obi-Wan back to the brink of orgasm in minutes. Qui-Gon knelt
behind his padawan, his arms around Obi-Wan's chest, hugging
the young man to him, letting Obi-Wan set the pace and move on
him as he wanted. Obi-Wan dropped his head back on his master's
shoulder, moaning softly, Qui-Gon's name on his lips as he felt
the shaft within him expand. Obi-Wan yelled at the extra girth
within him and then he was being coated with Qui-Gon's seed.
Qui-Gon started to move when Obi-Wan held him steady, hooking
his arm around his master's neck, drawing the kiss-swollen lips
over his own mouth. //stay, just for a few moments// Qui-Gon
pulled out of the kiss, meeting the intense gaze of his
padawan's storm blue eyes. "I like feeling you inside me,"
Obi-Wan explained with no embarrassment.
"As I love being within you." Qui-Gon embraced his padawan
tightly as they sat together. Eventually they had to move.
Qui-Gon's legs started to ache and Obi-Wan's ass began to
complain about the continuing abuse. Parting carefully, they
arranged themselves on the covers, Obi-Wan blanketing his
master. For a long time they stayed silent, each testing the
awakened presence in their mind. From now, the soulbond would
link them more intimately than anything they were used to.
felt right, now it felt perfect.
//sleep, Obi. We can dream together//
Obi-Wan allowed himself to fall easily into his master's
slumber. Qui-Gon held him mentally as he did physically. A warm
darkness surrounded them as they both fell asleep. The shared
dreams came later, and the hazy scenes and vague images that
filtered through the two subconscious. Wrapped up in one
another, their dreams merged. It would always be like this,
even if they were physically apart. No more nightmares.
Obi-Wan woke in a cocoon of warmth. He was lying on his side,
pressed back against Qui-Gon who was wrapped over him, arms
wound around him. He felt filled with the strength and peace of
a good night's sleep. He stretched his legs out, stroking
Qui-Gon's legs with his feet. He knew his master was already
awake; their sleep was linked as their dreams.
//one soul//
Qui-Gon smiled, not bothering to open his eyes. He snuggled
closer to his padawan, placing a loving kiss into the soft gold
hair tickling his throat. //you dream of yourself in the third
person//
//don't you?//
Obi-Wan shifted back, wriggling against Qui-Gon, finding his
master's erection with his ass. Qui-Gon bit back his gasp.
"Waking up with you has been a temptation for too long."
"Now you can give in, Love."
The Jedi master lifted his head and nipped his lover's neck.
Obi-Wan chuckled, moving his head, giving Qui-Gon better
access. He did not expect the wonderings to be halted quite so
soon. He looked around in query, but as he did, Qui-Gon reached
over him to open the drawer in the low table by the bed. "Qui,
what are doing?"
"I... have something...." the older Jedi took an object from
the back of the small drawer with some effort and closed it,
falling back to the bed. "I have something to show you."
Obi-Wan turned on to his front and saw that his soulmate was
holding a small, black velvet box.
"What is that?"
Qui-Gon leaned up on one elbow and opened the lid of the box,
turning it to show his padawan. Obi-Wan gasped, taking the box
from Qui-Gon with shaking fingers. Laid on the velvet inside
were two silver rings, made up of the ancient Jedi symbol for
eternity, going on and on to form the strong yet delicate
rings. Rings given in the ceremony of formalising the soulbond.
Obi-Wan's wide eyes met those of his master, his beloved. "Do
you mean...?" A soulbonded pair could formalise their
relationship in public if they wished to do so, but Obi-Wan had
only ever heard of one pair doing so. He had never expected
Qui-Gon to make such an offer.
"Only if you want to, Obi. We know that this is permanent, we
know what we are to one another. A formal ceremony is not
necessary."
"I do, Qui-Gon. I will... I want to. I love you."
Smiling, Qui-Gon took the box back and snapped the lid shut as
he would his arm around his padawan and pulled him into a
happy, deep kiss.
There was a definite, obvious change in the two Jedi as they
walked through the temple to the council chamber. All eyes
followed their leisurely pace through the halls. Qui-Gon
wondered absently if the fact that he and Obi-Wan were holding
hands had anything to do with the interest they seemed to be
generating. The 12-hour old, full soulbond usually had to be
given time to settle. Physical contact eased the need to be
close, holding hands seemed the most natural thing in the
world. Despite that need, a part of Qui-Gon wished they had
consummated the bond earlier. He had never felt so at peace, so
sure that whatever was thrown at them, together they would
defeat it or die. Together. It was all that mattered.
Yoda stared at the two as they stepped into the council
chamber. Hands dropped, but they stayed close to one another.
Their whole aura was one of triumph. Yoda frowned. "Done it,
haven't you?"
Qui-Gon bowed his head in mere affirmation. "We have, My
Master."
"By whose permission did you?"
"By our own, My Master."
Obi-Wan bit back his smile.
Sighing, Yoda steeped his fingers in front of his chin,
regarding the two before him with sparkling eyes. "Requested an
audience with us you did."
"Yes, my Master. Obi-Wan and I request a formal ceremony to
publicly recognise our soulbond."
There were hushed gasps from the assembled council members,
but Yoda smiled. "Made for tomorrow the arrangements will be."
"Thank you, my Master."
He stepped into the small, cool chapel knowing his intentions,
feeling his wondrous connection to his padawan surge forward as
he entered. He looked up, and his breath caught in his throat.
Obi-Wan was waiting for him, dressed in his usual Jedi garb.
Yet the slightly crooked fall of his tunic revealed the crease
where his neck met his shoulder, the smooth flesh accentuated
by the stream of sunlight from the high windows in front and
above him. Qui-Gon was gripped by the urge to trail his tongue
along that sensual crease. The same sunlight played in the soft
spikes of Obi-Wan's hair, highlighting the gold. Through his
braid, he had threaded a strand of deep purple wrapped in gold,
the end of which fell with his cascade of hair almost to his
waist. Obi-Wan smiled when he knew his master had seen it, and
as the smile lit his features, Qui-Gon remembered where the
silky cottons had originated. That thread had once wrapped
around Qui-Gon's own padawan braid.
//you are beautiful, my beloved//
//as you are, Qui-Gon, my heart//
Qui-Gon had taken all his hair back into a long, thick plat
from the back of his head and dropping between his shoulders.
Within the braided hair were woven fine threads of blue and
violet. He too wore his usual tunics and robe, and in his hand
he grasped the velvet box he had shown Obi-Wan only two days
previously. Stepping forward, he handed to box to Bant, where
she stood at Obi-Wan's side.
Master Yoda smiled as he lead a few other council members into
the cramped space of the old stone chapel. Friends waited
outside in the gardens for the blessing to be given and the
joining to be completed. After, there would be celebrations.
Bant stood to one side, there only to witness the blessing and
to present the chosen rings.
Taking his place on the step before the alter, Yoda regarded
the two men before him, both down at his level, each on one
knee, hands folded across the top of the other. Qui-Gon was the
most dear of his padawans. The wilful force that was now an
infamous Jedi Knight had filled Yoda's days, had taught even
him that there were other things beside the Code. So many years
ago, Yoda had looked into the intense blue eyes that now
watched him steadily and had seen the most terrible of futures,
the most tragic and wasted of deaths. That had been before the
soulbond, before Obi-Wan's glad acceptance of it. Now when he
looked, he could see little of that future still remaining. It
had convinced him that the paths laid before them could be
altered, by the Force, or by their own sheer willpower. Of
course, his revelation had not been shared with others. That
would never have done.
And Obi-Wan.... He had known the truth from the moment he had
met the child. The Force was not only strong with him, it seem
to flow from him, gathered around him, waiting to be shaped.
The soulbond was the Force's way of protecting its chosen one.
Choosing Qui-Gon, Yoda believed in his more pessimistic
moments, was the Force's way of annoying him. Yet Obi-Wan truly
could not have a greater friend, a greater alley, nor a greater
Jedi at his side. Together they made an impressive pair, an
impenetrable line of defence, and a very beautiful couple.
Which was why they were here.
Yoda held out his hands. Qui-Gon placed his left hand on to
that of his old master, Obi-Wan his right. Holding both their
hands lightly, Yoda began to recite the words that were so
rarely used.
"A soulbond has been born between you. It cannot be undone,
nor destroyed, nor denied.
To accept this, to acknowledge it, is to accept one another,
and to acknowledge one another.
This you do here, before your witness, before each other.
Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are one soul, one heart.
When one is broken, the other is broken. When one heals, the
other heals. When the Force claims one, it will claim both.
This you know. This you accept.
Through the Force that has granted this bond, I bless you both
and the link that joins you."
Yoda brought the hands together, laying Obi-Wan's over
Qui-Gon's and holding them there.
"Hand to hand, soul to soul, you are no longer one, but two.
You are no longer me, but us."
Bant stepped forward and handed them the rings. In silence,
Qui-Gon slipped the silver band onto his padawan's finger. Or
rather, it was supposed to be in silence. As he did, Qui-Gon
wondered how many other pairs throughout the galaxy broke this
rule unnoticed. //for always, my Obi-Wan, I will love you for
the eternity that is ours to take//
Obi-Wan mirrored the action of their fingers, smiling at his
soulmate's flouting of the ceremonial rules. //I give you all
that I am, beloved. I share with you everything, and will do so
long after the universe claims these physical forms and the
Force claims our joined soul as one. I love you.//
Unaware of their own silent vows to one another, Yoda
continued.
"The bands of eternity seek only to be symbols to others. In
your minds you feel each other, in your hearts you know one
another.
This circle is for eternity. Rise, and seek your fate
together."
Yoda shifted from the step and met Bant at the closed door,
behind the other council members. As it was opened, she
realised the other two were not standing behind them as they
should have been. She and Yoda turned in sync. Still standing
in front of the alter, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were wrapped in one
another's arms, Qui-Gon's large hand cradling his love's head
as Obi-Wan tilted his face to kiss his soulmate deeply.
Yoda tried to make a subtle 'clearing his throat' sound as he
had seen other humans do in these types of situations, but when
that had no affect, he tapped the end of his stick on the stone
floor of the chapel. "Stop that you should," he muttered in
mock anger. Bant just stood and stared. She believed they were
the most sensual sight that had ever befallen her. She had
always thought of Obi-Wan as out of reach. His telling her of
the soulbond so many years before had confirmed her thoughts.
But that did not stop her from day-dreaming, once in a while.
This was giving her imagination plenty to work on.
Obi-Wan was aware only of the new band around the base of the
finger on his left hand, and of the closeness of his soulmate.
Qui-Gon's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, torturously
tracing the contours of his pallet and teeth while his own
tongue could do little but lick the base of the welcome
invader. Obi-Wan reached around to the back of Qui-Gon's head
and wrapped his hand around the thick braid, sliding down it,
caressing the length of platted hair as if it were a different
part of his Qui-Gon's body. //maybe we should wait until we are
out of the public eye before we start that part of the
ceremony, my Obi//
"If you say so, my Qui-Gon." They both turned and looked at
the faces of their witnesses. They only smiled. Each with an
arm around the waist of the other, they walked out into the
crowd of friends who awaited them.
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