Archive: By Master & Apprentice, my site, WWOMB and
SithChicks
Pairing: O/Other, Q/Other, O/Q
Category: Alternate Universe
Rating: NC-17 for the series; this episode rated R
Disclaimer: Rushlight is not now nor has ever been George
Lucas.
Warning: None
Summary: Still (!) on his quest to be with his beloved Master,
Obi makes an offer to help in a reality he just might not be
prepared for.
Notes: From Rushlight: I've been hooked on this series from
the very first episode, and now I've been given the chance to
feed my own addiction. Thanks, Terri, for creating such a
wonderful playground!
From terri: As you no doubt know by now, I'm paying homage to
the great SF author, L. Sprague DeCamp with this story.
Rushlight has outdone herself with this story, capturing Our
Hero's emotions and thoughts quite perfectly. Thanks, Rush!
The first thing Obi-Wan noticed when he opened his eyes was
the profusion of green around him. Startled, he almost dropped
his lightsaber, and he very carefully thumbed it off as his
eyes swept to take in the vista around him.
He was in the Temple courtyard. He recognized the place
immediately, even though it was filled with a scattering of
dark green trees and bushes, immaculately cultivated as if
nature were as much a part of this reality's Temple as the
Force that swirled around it. Immediately, he found himself
relaxing into the lull of the Living Force around him.
In the distance, he could see the Temple, but the building was
subtly different than he remembered, rising like a silver spire
against the darkening sky. Warm sunlight fell in muted shafts
onto softly bubbling fountains, heavy with the weight of day's
end. Small golden lights could just barely be glimpsed among
the trees' branches, and Obi-Wan guessed that as night
continued to fall, the courtyard would be lit by these soft
illuminaries. Everything was arranged with a tender balance
between beauty and a strength that was almost frightening in
its simplicity, complementing and at the same time enhancing
the touch of nature encased within.
After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan moved down the elegantly
manicured path toward the Temple. There was nothing overtly
threatening about the scene around him, but he was loath to
trust its apparent tranquillity. Still, he decided it warranted
an investigation. If nothing else, it was certainly pretty to
look at.
"Knight Kenobi?"
The voice made him whirl in surprise, and Obi-Wan stared
guardedly at the darkly uniformed man who stood behind him on
the trail. There was a small blaster hanging at the man's side,
along with a lightsaber, giving Obi-Wan the impression that he
was a sentry of some kind.
"Yes?" Obi-Wan said after a moment, trying not to sound as lost
as he felt.
The guard eyed him strangely, as if he hadn't been expecting to
find him here. Or maybe as if he had been sent to find him
here, where he wasn't supposed to be. "Master Windu is
expecting you for dinner tonight. Perhaps you'd care to come
with me?"
Obi-Wan frowned, hoping the Knight wouldn't notice his
confusion. He was obviously being mistaken for this world's
Obi-Wan. He didn't know enough yet to decide whether that was a
good thing or not. "Ah. Dinner. Of course." He smiled weakly.
"How could I have forgotten?"
The Knight gestured that Obi-Wan should precede him down the
path toward the Temple. Sensing that he wasn't in any immediate
danger, Obi- Wan obeyed.
There were three sentries stationed outside of the large front
doors, an addition that Obi-Wan found not at all encouraging.
There were also guards at regular intervals in the hallways.
Whatever else the Jedi may be here, they were a militaristic
bunch.
They emerged from an elevator onto an upper floor of the
Temple. Obi- Wan's escort said not a word, and Obi-Wan followed
in careful silence, not wanting to disturb the illusion that he
was this world's Obi-Wan. Although he had seen nothing overtly
threatening, he was hesitant to admit the truth behind his
presence here.
He was taken to a large suite of rooms where he was left in the
care of two Padawans who looked so much alike that they might
have been twins. Their dark hair blended well with the
silver-on-black coloring of their uniforms.
Again, there were no words spoken, and Obi-Wan began to feel as
if he were in a dream as he was ushered silently into an
adjoining bathing room and quickly divested of his garments. He
made no protest at this action, sensing only a cool
professionalism in the Padawans who serviced him, and then he
was being led toward the bath that had already been drawn in
anticipation of his arrival.
Obi-Wan sank into the dusky water with a sigh, feeling the warm
liquid wrap him in a tender embrace. He was bathed efficiently
and then wrapped in a large silver towel, and he found it
within him to be bemused as well-trained hands dressed him in
clinging silk. This was obviously a duty they had performed
many times before.
At first he had been disturbed at the thought that the servants
in this reality were Padawans, but he had seen enough of the
braided figures moving through the halls carrying lightsabers
of their own to deduce that they were not slaves. If anything,
they seemed to be performing the menial tasks that Padawans
were expected to perform in Obi-Wan's own reality, although in
his experience, those tasks did not include bathing visitors to
the Masters' suites.
When they were done with him, the Padawans passed Obi-Wan over
into the care of the Knight who had brought him here. The silk
shirt felt odd against his skin as Obi-Wan followed his escort
through the hallways and into a towering dining hall. The
ceiling stretched up into shadows, and muted candlelight
cloaked the long dining table in a tender halo of soft, golden
light. There was an artful arrangement of autumn flowers
displayed at the table's center, spilling their multihued
blossoms over the dark wood and filling the air with their
fragrance.
Mace Windu was seated at the table's far end, his dark eyes
observing Obi-Wan with an unreadable expression as he entered
the room. Obi-Wan heard the door close behind him as his escort
exited, and he moved forward hesitantly, noticing that the
table was set for two.
"Please," Mace said with a languid gesture of his large hand.
"Join me, Obi-Wan."
Feeling somewhat more confident, Obi-Wan obeyed. "Thank you,
Master Windu."
One dark eyebrow quirked in amusement. "Formal tonight, aren't
we?"
Obi-Wan said nothing in reply. His heart was hammering in his
chest for some inexplicable reason, and he kept his gaze
deliberately averted as he seated himself. The scents of the
food in front of him were making his mouth water, and he
realized suddenly how long it had been since he'd had the
leisure to enjoy an elaborate meal.
Padawan servants appeared as if out of nowhere to serve them.
Obi-Wan was surprised to discover that dinner consisted of his
favorite dishes, and he wondered at the import of this as he
began to eat. Windu carried the conversation easily, making it
possible for Obi-Wan to interject only the occasional murmured
acknowledgment. Obi-Wan began to relax as he realized that his
identity as a doppelganger was not under suspicion. Windu had
apparently accepted him completely as this world's Obi-Wan.
After the last of the dishes was cleared away, a servant
appeared with a palm-sized plate of clear crystal, which he set
wordlessly in front of Obi-Wan before vanishing again into the
darkness outside the glow of the candlelight. On the plate was
a small white bird made entirely of sugar, its body strung
through the center of a simple silver ring inlaid with a single
white stone. Obi-Wan glanced up at Windu and found the
Councilor staring at him with an unreadable expression, dark
eyes intent as they gauged the former Padawan's reaction to his
offering.
Feeling self-conscious, not knowing what to do in this
extremely odd situation, Obi-Wan reached for the ring and eased
it over the wings of the sugar bird. Slipping the ring over his
finger, he placed the candy into his mouth and felt it dissolve
sweetly on his tongue.
Mace leaned back in his chair, the tension easing out of him
with an almost palpable glow. His smile was one of
self-satisfied pleasure as he rose up from the table and came
slowly towards Obi-Wan, his long robes swishing softly against
the floor.
Obi-Wan resisted the urge to shrink back as the tall Councilor
came up beside him. Looking up into that unfathomable dark
gaze, he moistened his lips nervously.
"I knew you would make the correct decision, Obi-Wan," Mace
purred softly, one hand resting on the back of Obi-Wan's chair.
The other hand reached to brush light fingers across the curve
of the younger man's jaw. "Both of our houses will prosper by
this union."
With slow-dawning horror, Obi-Wan began to piece together the
subtle clues of the evening's activities. Had he just accepted
a marriage proposal? The ring he wore felt suddenly cold around
his finger, and he wondered exactly how upset this world's
Obi-Wan was going to be with him when he discovered what he had
just done.
Without warning, Mace's hand slipped around behind the back of
Obi- Wan's neck, and then the older man was kissing him.
Obi-Wan's instinctive reaction was to pull away, but the
fingers around his neck tightened to near pain as Mace's lips
closed over his. The shock of it stunned Obi-Wan to submission,
and he held himself motionless as Mace's tongue moved lazily
through his mouth, tasting deeply, exploring him as if he were
a newly won possession that the Councilor was inspecting for
flaws.
Finally, Mace released him. His eyes raked possessively over
Obi-Wan's face, and a small smile curled his lips as he took in
the younger man's slightly dazed expression. His fingers
brushed lightly across Obi-Wan's swollen lips, and for a moment
Obi-Wan dared to hope that the Councilor's obvious pleasure
meant he had mistaken Obi-Wan's reaction for arousal instead of
fear. But the predatory gleam in Mace's eyes belied that notion
immediately.
"I have a Council meeting to attend," Mace said huskily. One
finger pressed against the underside of Obi-Wan's chin, tipping
the younger man's head up to look at him. "I'll expect you in
my chambers by tenth hour." His other hand moved languidly over
Obi-Wan's face, giving light brushes to neck, hair, cheek, jaw.
Obi-Wan struggled not to shudder under that proprietary touch.
"Yes, Mace," Obi-Wan whispered, feeling his insides clench at
the thought of it. Apparently he sounded submissive enough for
Mace's tastes, because the Councilor nodded toward the door in
a subtle invitation to dismissal.
Obi-Wan all but fled the room, feeling as if he were in need of
another bath. Hastily, he made his way through the halls toward
the room where he'd left his backpack. He had every intention
of leaving this reality as soon as possible. There was
something about the idea of being married to this universe's
Mace that made his skin crawl.
To his surprise, there was a guard waiting for him at the end
of the hall. This one was not dressed in the elegant silver and
black raiment that Obi-Wan had come to associate with Mace's
servants, but rather a somber mix of maroon and dark gold. It
was a warm combination of colors that was somehow soothing in
its simplicity.
"Knight Kenobi," the guard said in a tone of voice that was at
once deferential and commanding. "If you'll come with me,
please?"
Obi-Wan cast a despairing glance down the hall, his hand
twitching at his side. "I just came from dinner with Master
Windu," he said, hoping that casual use of the Councilor's name
would grant him some degree of immunity to the obvious politics
of this place.
"Yes, sir. If you'll come with me?"
It was not a request. Reluctantly, Obi-Wan moved to follow the
larger man, well aware of the lightsaber that hung so casually
from the man's hip. A Knight, then. What were the Jedi in this
universe? He couldn't help but wonder.
They passed through a network of halls and corridors that bore
little resemblance to the Temple that Obi-Wan had once known,
despite the fact that their layout was identical to the Temple
he had grown up in. The touch of elegance was everywhere, from
the delicately patterned tiles of the floor to the
expensive-looking paintings that hung on the walls. Apparently
the Jedi of this universe had little concern about displaying
material wealth.
Eventually they came to a large sitting room, and the Knight
ushered him inside. Casting a last nervous glance at the man,
Obi-Wan entered the room.
It almost wasn't a surprise to see Qui-Gon lounging carelessly
on the large divan under the darkened window. Even so,
Obi-Wan's stomach clenched in frantic rebuttal as he took in
the sight of this coolly self-assured incarnation of his former
Master, and he took an involuntary step backwards before memory
of the guard at the door stopped him. His heart pounded a
staccato rhythm in his chest as he stared, his mouth going dry.
Was his first reaction upon seeing this man always to be fear?
The world seemed to constrict to a point of roaring light
around him, as his focus narrowed to the elegantly beautiful
man sitting framed by stars on the window seat in front of him.
Absently, Obi-Wan blotted his palms on the silken fall of the
tunic that hung over his hips, hardly daring to breathe.
Qui-Gon rose smoothly from the settee and moved toward him, and
Obi- Wan's breath left him in a deep sigh when he saw that
those eyes were edged with curiosity and disbelief, but no real
cruelty. This Qui-Gon was dressed in an almost medieval
fashion, the full sleeves of his tunic accenting his lean,
muscled frame, dark pants disappearing into the tops of high
black boots. His silvered hair hung unrestrained around his
shoulders. "Amazing," Qui-Gon breathed, reaching out to touch
Obi-Wan's cheek. When Obi-Wan flinched away from his touch, he
stopped and dropped his hand back to his side. "Who are you?"
Obi-Wan forced a tremulous smile. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said,
relaxing slightly. He found himself captivated by the tender
strength in those familiar blue eyes, even though a part of him
still cringed in abject terror at the thought of being
submissive to this man's whims.
"Interesting," a voice said from the other side of the room,
startling him. "I rather thought that I was Obi-Wan Kenobi."
An unanticipated ache clutched at Obi-Wan's heart as he turned
toward that cultured voice. The mirror image of himself that
stepped forward out of the shadows at the side of the tall
bookcase regarded him with barely restrained curiosity, touched
with the faintest edge of wariness. Clearly, he did not know
what to make of his doppelganger's sudden appearance here.
It was Obi-One. More than the familiar features, it was the
openness of this other Obi-Wan's expression that made Obi-Wan
recognize him. Obi- Wan couldn't help the small smile that
touched his face as he drank in the sight of his twin,
remembering all that they had shared in another reality. This
version of himself was dressed similar to Qui-Gon, but without
the flamboyance, and the colors of his clothing matched that of
the guard at the door.
It took a while, but Obi-Wan was adept at telling the story of
his journeys at this point and the relating of the events that
had brought him here took almost no time to share. He left out
most of the details of the other worlds he had been to, instead
focusing on what he considered the highlights of his
adventures. Strangely enough, the Sith seemed to be nonexistent
here, and Palpatine either did not exist or had not found his
way into the Senate. Obi-Wan was relieved that the Palpatine he
had met (and who still haunted his dreams) had not found his
way into this reality yet.
By the time Obi-Wan finished his story, they were all seated
next to each other on the divan by the window, with Qui-Gon in
the middle. Disbelief slowly turned into amazement as Obi-Wan's
tale unfolded, and then acceptance. Obi-Wan was heartened that
they would believe him so utterly.
When he got to the part about being mistaken for Obi-One and
brought in for dinner with Mace, Qui-Gon and Obi-One shared a
dark glance. "Tell me exactly what happened," Qui-Gon said
softly.
Obi-Wan did, relaying the details of his encounter with the
Councilor as accurately as he was able. When he had finished,
Obi-One all but launched himself off of the sofa in agitation.
"I knew it," he said hotly, pacing with barely concealed rage
in front of the window seat. "I *knew* he was going to ask for
a marriage alliance."
Qui-Gon's expression was subdued. "This changes everything," he
said with obvious reluctance.
Obi-Wan looked from one to the other, feeling lost. "I don't
understand. Why does Master Windu want to marry Obi?"
"You have to understand something about the Jedi in this
reality, Obi- Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice heavy. "It's all
politics more than anything else. Perhaps we started out as a
peacekeeping force, at some point in the distant past, but now
we hire ourselves out on missions of personal protection. Not
to mention the occasional unsanctioned assassination." He
sounded disapproving of this.
Obi-Wan stared. "You're mercenaries."
One corner of Qui-Gon's mouth quirked up at that. "And highly
expensive mercenaries, at that. There are no better-trained
fighters in the entire galaxy, and none that trains in use of
the Force. There are few who can afford our services. Mostly we
cater to planetary systems and trade alliances, but
occasionally we'll find business with the odd overlord or
monarch who happens to come into riches through some means or
other. Sometimes there is a lively auction while both sides of
a conflict seek to barter for exclusive rights to Temple
assistance."
For a moment, Obi-Wan could not grasp it. The Jedi, hiring out
their services to the highest bidder? It seemed impossible to
believe.
"Mace Windu is head of the Temple," Qui-Gon continued. "His
power here on Coruscant is absolute. He already commands full
military authority in this sector."
"My brother holds a seat on the Senate," Obi-One explained,
coming back to perch on the edge of the couch next to Qui-Gon.
He looked too agitated to relax entirely. "If Windu marries me,
he'll gain a vote, as well. It'll be the first step towards
consolidating his political power. Obviously, holding a
monopoly over the military forces in this sector isn't enough
for him." His voice was bitter.
"Not to mention that as my former Padawan, you carry a certain
power within the Guard as well," Qui-Gon mused. "And that's the
one element of the Temple's hierarchy that he doesn't have
direct control over."
Obi-Wan thought about the Windu he'd seen holding a position of
such power, and shuddered. "I'm sorry," he whispered, suddenly
uncomfortable in the silver-on-black clothes that he had been
given to wear, signifying his supposed allegiance to Windu's
household.
"It's not your fault, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon was quick to assure
him. "You couldn't have done things any differently. If you
had, it would not have gone well for you. Mace Windu does not
take kindly to being refused."
Obi-One turned solemn eyes on his twin, one hand snaking out to
clasp Qui-Gon's. "I don't think it should be any surprise to
you to know that Qui-Gon and I have fallen in love," he said.
"We'd planned to leave Coruscant together tonight. There's a
freighter waiting to take us to Mallastare, and from there we
can find passage to anywhere in the galaxy we want to go. The
Jedi be damned." His voice was fierce.
Obi-Wan felt a coil of dread slide into his stomach. "Windu
wants to see you at tenth hour tonight," he said. "After the
Council meeting."
He was not prepared for the flash of protective rage that
sparked in Qui-Gon's eyes. "No," the Jedi Master said sharply,
in a tone that brooked no room for argument. His fingers
tightened around Obi-One's hand. "That man has been lusting
after you for years," he said to his former apprentice. "I
won't let him put his hands on you."
Obi-One's eyes were sad as they met his lover's gaze. "I have
to go to him, Qui-Gon. If I don't, he'll know immediately what
we have planned, and he'll lock down all the spaceports so that
we'll never get off this planet. He already suspects; he'll be
waiting for us to make some effort at escape tonight."
"No," Qui-Gon said again, his expression grieved.
"It'll buy us time," Obi-One said smoothly, although the shadow
of fear in his eyes belied his calm.
A lump caught in Obi-Wan's throat as he heard the courage in
his twin's voice. He thought about the last time they had lain
together, back in the reality that he still carried around as a
lodestone in the deepest part of his heart, and he knew without
question that he could not let this happen. Just the memory of
the way Windu had seemed to enjoy his fear when he kissed him
made him shudder.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he said, "I'll go."
They both turned to stare at him, as if they'd forgotten for a
moment that he was there. Then Qui-Gon reached to trail the
backs of his knuckles down the side of Obi-Wan's face. "I can't
let you do that, either," he said with a small smile.
Obi-Wan leaned into the caress, his eyelids drooping in
pleasure at the contact. "But I have to," he murmured, clinging
to the memory of the last time the three of them had been
together. "I can't let this happen to you, Obi."
"There's no guarantee you'd ever escape from him," Obi-One
objected, his eyes intent as they stared avidly into his twin's
face. "Qui-Gon is the Captain of the Temple Guard. With him
here to help me, I could get away at some point. On your own,
you wouldn't have a chance."
Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, nuzzling deeper into the curve
of Qui- Gon's hand, inhaling the rich scent of the man's skin,
his breath tickling along the curve of the wrist in front of
him. "I have my 'saber," he insisted. "All I have to do is
throw the switch and I'm out of here."
He could feel Qui-Gon's eyes on him, as those delicate fingers
traced the lines of his face. He wondered suddenly if Qui-Gon
were noticing the faint scars of the abuse Obi-Wan had
suffered, which were almost healed but still visible to an
observant eye. Still, Qui-Gon made no comment, only stroked
tenderly over the skin under his fingers as if he sought to
soothe the soul that lay within.
Obi-One was still reluctant. "I can't let you do this, Obi."
His voice was desperate. "Why don't you come with us? If we
leave now, the three of us can reach the spaceport in under an
hour. We might be able to-"
"No," Qui-Gon said quietly, his eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's
face. "We won't."
"Then I'll have to stay." Obi-One was firm. "There's no way I
can ask him to-"
"You didn't ask me," Obi-Wan reminded him. Tearing his eyes
away from Qui-Gon's, he met his twin's anguished gaze and said,
"You don't know what it's like to be taken against your will."
And then, even more quietly, "I want it to stay that way."
There was silence for a moment, then Qui-Gon bent to brush his
lips lightly across Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan tensed slightly despite
himself, but Qui-Gon made no attempt to deepen the kiss. "You
have been harshly used," Qui-Gon whispered softly against
Obi-Wan's lips, "but you are every bit the Obi-Wan I fell in
love with as my own former Padawan. I don't know what happened
to you, but I thank the Force you were brought to us."
"Me, too," Obi-Wan said sincerely. His eyes met Qui-Gon's, and
held them. "Let me do this for you. It's the only way the two
of you are going to be able to get out of here."
Qui-Gon leaned down to touch his forehead briefly to Obi-Wan's.
Then he stood and crossed the room, returning after a moment
with a com-link that he pressed into Obi-Wan's palm. "I'll
signal you when we clear Coruscant's atmosphere, so you'll know
it's safe to leave." He toggled a switch on the com-link that
he held in his own hand, causing a dull red light to blink
softly from the one he had given to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan nodded, holding the proffered com-link close to his
chest. "Thank you."
There was really nothing more to be said after that. Obi-One
went to retrieve a long, dark cloak with a deep hood that would
hide his face, and Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly at him as his
twin shrugged into its heavy folds. Obi-One held his gaze
levelly for a moment, then stepped forward to kiss him lightly
on the cheek. "Thank you," he whispered, nuzzling against
Obi-Wan's face for a moment before stepping away. His large
blue eyes held a wealth of admiration and gratitude.
Obi-Wan smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at this small gesture.
"You're welcome," he said, meaning it. "Now get out of here.
You two have a flight to catch."
Qui-Gon quickly gathered together the small satchel of supplies
that had already been packed in preparation for their
departure, and Obi-One deftly took it from him to hook the
thick strap over his shoulder. With his hood pulled up, only
his eyes were visible, shining with a curious mixture of fear
and excitement.
"You're sure you're all right with this?" Qui-Gon asked,
pausing in front of Obi-Wan and looking searchingly into the
younger man's face. He was obviously reluctant to be leaving
Obi-Wan in this position.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Positive." He was rather proud that his voice
didn't shake when he said it.
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed, but he seemed to realize that there
was nothing more to be gained by discussing the matter. "The
Knight outside this door is named Bordal. You can trust him
implicitly. I'm leaving him in command of the Guard when I
leave."
Obi-Wan appreciated Qui-Gon's attempt to give him some measure
of security. Forcing a brave smile, he ushered the two of them
out the door, urging them as calmly as he could to hurry.
Obi-One nodded, gave him a last grateful smile from deep within
his hood, and then they were gone.
Obi-Wan's steps were heavy as he made his way back to the
elevator that would bring him to the level of the Temple where
Mace Windu's chambers were located. Bordal could only accompany
him this far, but Obi-Wan appreciated the escort nonetheless.
The elevator hummed almost subliminally around him as it made
its ascent, and Obi-Wan kept his mind studiously blank, his
fists clenching in unconscious agitation at his sides. He was
not surprised to find a silver-cloaked guard waiting for him
when the mirrored doors slid silently open.
At Obi-Wan's insistence, he was allowed back into the room
where he had bathed earlier. To his immense relief, his
backpack was right where he had left it, and a cursory
examination showed him that his motley collection of
lightsabers was safely tucked away inside, nestled in between
the bottles of root beer.
"Knight Kenobi?" The guard's voice outside the door was polite,
but there was a definite edge of command to it. Mace's consort
or no, Obi- Wan's status was clearly apparent here.
Drawing in a deep breath, Obi-Wan carefully centered himself
and stepped back out into the corridor. He refused to meet the
guard's eyes as he was ushered further down the hall. His heart
beat a frantic rhythm inside his chest, but the Knight made no
mention of the backpack he now carried. That was both
reassuring and slightly disquieting.
His courage almost failed him when they passed beyond the guest
suites and servants' quarters into the heart of Mace's
stronghold. There were tall, fancifully engraved doors at the
end of the hall, and Obi-Wan knew immediately where they led.
His pace slowed unconsciously as he drew nearer to them, but
the Knight who led him opened the doors and gestured that he
should enter.
"Master Windu will be here shortly," the Knight said, with
absolutely no emotion in his voice whatsoever.
Obi-Wan wondered suddenly how many Knights and Padawans had
been ushered through these doors under precisely these
circumstances, and the thought caused a slow shudder of
revulsion to pass through him as he obediently moved to enter
the room. How many others had been made subject to the
Councilor's lusts over the years? He very much doubted that
Mace's licentious habits would have started with his new
fiance.
The doors closed silently behind him, leaving him alone to
explore the suite he now found himself in. As he had expected,
the lavishness evident here was almost repulsive in its
decadence. Apparently Mace Windu was a man who enjoyed his
luxuries.
Dropping his backpack in a corner next to one of the interior
doors, Obi-Wan carefully set the com-link Qui-Gon had given him
on a table beside an elegant flower arrangement. He would be
able to see it from just about anywhere in the room, but its
presence was not blatantly obvious unless one knew where to
look for it. Satisfied, he moved across the sitting room to
stand before the large window overlooking the gardens below.
Despite the darkness of the night, the height was dizzying.
Entering into a light meditative trance, he called on the Force
to center himself. It was remarkably easy, despite the fear
that pulsed through him. For a while, he had doubted if he
would ever be able to connect with the Force again. It felt
good, like immersing himself in cool water on a hot day, and it
lifted some of his uncertainties from him. He knew without a
doubt that this was the right thing to do, that he was doing
good with his presence here.
He felt more than heard Mace enter the room. An involuntary
tension rose in his shoulders, but Obi-Wan held himself
motionless as he stared out the window, watching the pattern
his heated breath made as it passed over the chilled glass.
*This is for Qui-Gon,* he reminded himself firmly. *For Qui-Gon
and Obi-One.*
The silence deepened behind him, and there was a heavy,
appraising quality to it that made Obi-Wan distinctly
uncomfortable. Finally, Mace's voice said, "I must admit that I
half-expected you to try to leave the Temple tonight."
Obi-Wan's breath caught for a moment, but then he forced
himself to say, "There's no sense in prolonging the
inevitable."
"True." There was the sound of soft footsteps across lush
carpeting, and then large hands fell lightly onto Obi-Wan's
shoulders from behind. "But I truly didn't expect you to give
in so easily. I was rather looking forward to the challenge of
subduing you." Warm breath wafted across Obi-Wan's ear as Mace
leaned in close to whisper, "Do you have any idea how long I've
wanted you?"
Obi-Wan tried to control the frantic shudders that wanted to
wrack through his body and was only partially successful.
Shivering, he steeled himself not to cringe away from Mace's
touch and pressed one palm against the window in front of him,
letting the chill of the glass seep into his skin.
Obi-One had said that it would take less than an hour for them
to reach the spaceport. They had to be well on their way
already, and Obi-Wan counted down the minutes in his mind.
Glancing to one side, his eyes fell on the com-link that was
just barely visible at the other end of the room.
Mace's quiet chuckle was a soft breath of air against his
cheek. "I see you found your knapsack right where you left it.
Curious, isn't it, how it seems to have been packed in
anticipation of a hasty departure?"
Obi-Wan's heart seemed to skip a beat, but then he realized
what assumption Mace must have come to. "That's why you thought
I was planning to leave the Temple tonight."
"But of course." Mace's hands moved slowly down over Obi-Wan's
shoulders to smooth over the lengths of the younger man's arms,
his palms warm against Obi-Wan's skin. The thin material of
Obi-Wan's silken tunic was no barrier at all against the other
man's touch. "I'm wondering what reaction Qui-Gon will have
when he hears of our engagement. Or did you tell him already? I
have trouble believing he would have let you come to me tonight
if he knew." Another low laugh, slightly breathless. "I can't
wait to see the expression on his face when he finds out that
you've given yourself to me."
The coy amusement in the Councilor's voice caused Obi-Wan to
feel a stirring of anger, and he stiffened slightly. Mace
responded by pressing his lips against the nape of Obi-Wan's
neck, his hands moving down across the younger man's body with
a possessiveness that was almost frightening. Obi-Wan arched
against him, feeling a flash of panic as he was restrained
against his will, but then he twisted around in Mace's grasp
and met the taller man's startled gaze with what he hoped was a
fair approximation of a sultry smile.
"There's no reason to rush this, is there?" he asked softly,
trailing one finger across Mace's dark-skinned cheek. The heat
from Mace's body was like a furnace in front of him, but he did
his best to ignore it. "Like you said, there is much to be
gained from this alliance, for both of us. And we have all the
time in the world to share together." Greatly daring, he leaned
forward to press a light kiss against the underside of the
Councilor's jaw. "Perhaps some wine would be in order?"
Mace's breath hitched at the kiss, and there was a moment of
heavy silence as he considered. Obi-Wan could practically feel
the suspicion wafting off of the man, and his heart raced for a
moment as he thought that Mace would actually prefer to
hard-fuck his unwilling fiance, than spend an evening with a
wantonly agreeable lover.
Finally, some of the tension left Mace's form, and he stepped
away from Obi-Wan with a darkly amused glint in his eyes.
Apparently he was willing enough to play Obi-Wan's game, even
though he didn't quite believe that Obi-Wan was as willing as
he seemed. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Obi-Wan
moved slowly towards the liquor cabinet against the far wall
and pulled out two glasses. Choosing a drink at random, he
poured, not liking the way his hands shook when he did so.
He turned to find Mace seated on the low couch across from the
window, one arm thrown back across the top edge of the sofa.
His eyes were on Obi-Wan as the younger man came back across
the room, and there was a fine edge of appreciation in his
stare. Obi-Wan was suddenly very self-conscious of the way his
clothes clung to the curves of his body, and he blushed lightly
as he handed Mace his glass.
He sat without a word, sipping at his drink reflexively as his
eyes sought the view outside the window. He jumped slightly
when Mace's fingers brushed across his shoulder.
"Why are you doing this, Obi-Wan?" Mace asked quietly, leaning
in to brush wine-scented lips across his young fiance's ear.
His fingers continued to stroke lightly against Obi-Wan's
shoulder, moving to fondle the back of his neck. "I don't mean
the engagement. That much is obvious. But why are you here
tonight?"
"Y-you don't honestly think I would disobey you, do you?"
Obi-Wan returned, feeling a rush of fear. Mace was too clever
by far, even in his own reality. To have that cool intelligence
set against him was suddenly a daunting prospect.
"Honestly?" Mace's lips moved further down, nuzzling against
the underside of Obi-Wan's jaw. "Yes. I don't believe you'd
have any qualms about disobeying me in this, no matter what the
consequences. Unless..." He nudged Obi-Wan's chin up slightly
with his nose, lapping lightly at the hollow under the younger
man's throat. Obi-Wan drew in his breath sharply, his fingers
tightening around his glass. "Unless you'd had some other plan
tonight, that you didn't want me to know about. Plans that your
unwillingness to obey would bring out blindingly into the
open."
Obi-Wan felt his heart clench. Obi-One had been right. Mace did
know about his relationship with Qui-Gon, and he knew that
they'd been planning to leave tonight. If Obi-One had stayed,
even with the hopes of being able to escape sometime in the
future, he would have been trapped here quite possibly for the
rest of his life. Because Mace would never have let him go.
Mace chuckled, mistaking Obi-Wan's silence for acquiescence.
His fingers pulled at the laces holding Obi-Wan's tunic shut,
lazily tracing patterns across the younger man's pale skin.
"You're mine," he growled softly, pressing his tongue against
Obi-Wan's nipple, moistening it through the thin fabric of his
shirt. "Not Qui-Gon's. Not anymore."
Obi-Wan let his head fall against the back of the couch,
panting lightly as he fought to keep himself under control.
Everything in him screamed that he should fight off Mace's
touch, but he knew that Mace was anticipating such a reaction.
He wasn't near ready yet for this kind of intimacy, and
especially not with someone who viewed him as little more than
an object to be used, but he forced himself not to fight it.
His mind was filled with images of those dark hands, and he
pictured them moving over his body, claiming him, owning him,
that large body pinning him to the floor as he rose up onto his
knees underneath it and offered himself all unwilling to the
one who sought to take him.
Mace's breath was hot as flame against his ear, and sharp teeth
nipped at the skin of Obi-Wan's neck, drawing a gasp out of
him. "You are exquisite," Mace said with a breathless chuckle,
hand smoothing down over Obi-Wan's chest. Obi-Wan trembled with
revulsion, knowing that the Councilor was referring to the fear
that thrummed through him with barely restrained tremors. Hot,
hungry kisses pressed against his throat, his mouth, as if
trying to draw out his very essence. "Exquisite, and beautiful,
and mine."
"Yours," Obi-Wan replied, almost sobbing. *Bought and paid
for,* he couldn't help but add silently, feeling the weight of
the ring on his finger. A marriage alliance in exchange for his
body. This was harder than he'd believed it would be, to give
in to being used this way. Inside, he rebelled against the
notion that anyone could ever own him. He was worth more than
that, worth more than anyone could ever hope to give in
exchange for his services.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of red.
Immediately, Obi-Wan's attention narrowed to the com-link that
sat forgotten on the table across the room.
The com-link that was even now pulsing with a soft red light.
Fighting back the wave of euphoria that rose in him, Obi-Wan
forced a low moan and relaxed into Mace's touch. Feeling an
unexpected chill clutch his heart, Obi-Wan realized that before
he could leave, he had to distract Mace enough to allow him to
get across the room to where his lightsaber was stashed. He
successfully fought down the twinge of revulsion that rose in
him at the thought of it, and leaned into Mace's kiss with an
abandon that surprised even him.
Mace pulled away slightly, startled at Obi-Wan's sudden
submission, and met Obi-Wan's gaze quizzically. Obi-Wan
moistened his lips with a languid smile. Carefully
disentangling himself from Mace's arms, he slid down off the
couch and onto his knees, never taking his eyes from Mace's
hungry gaze.
Mace's breath caught, and his eyes darkened with sudden lust as
his gaze raked over Obi-Wan's flushed face. He nodded, settling
back against the couch and spreading his knees to give Obi-Wan
better access. Obi-Wan eased forward, pressing a tremulous kiss
to the inside of Mace's thigh.
From somewhere in his memory, he could hear this man's voice
speaking to him - *"Didn't you like my taste, boy?"* - and he
shook as he smoothed his hands over the thick muscles of Mace's
thighs. He really was turning into the universe's
reality-jumping whore, now wasn't he? The thought brought a
spasm of giddy laughter to his throat, which he hastily
swallowed down.
"Wait right here," he whispered, giving a teasing caress to the
achingly hard flesh in between Mace's legs. Nipping sharply at
the inside of the larger man's knee, he smiled at the loud gasp
this caused and slid sinuously back away from the couch. "Wait
for me. I'll be right back."
Mace watched him with slitted eyes as he backed away from the
couch. Trying to ignore the fierce thudding of his heart in his
chest, Obi-Wan turned his back on the Councilor and moved
toward his backpack with measured strides. If anything, Mace
seemed intensely curious. *Please,* Obi-Wan begged silently as
he crossed the room, moving with the measured tread of one who
expects to get a knife in the back at any moment. *Please be so
intrigued that you don't question what I'm doing.* Dropping to
his knees beside the backpack, he plunged his hand inside.
He was almost daring to believe that it would be as easy as
this when Mace's fingers closed around his wrist. Startled, he
looked up into thunderously dark eyes.
"Do you truly take me for such a fool?" Mace demanded, his
voice soft and dangerous as his fingers tightened painfully
around Obi-Wan's wrist. "Do you think I don't know that you're
carrying weapons in there?"
Obi-Wan clenched his teeth, tightening his grip around the
lightsaber hilt in his hand and trying to ignore the crushing
pressure of the bigger man's grip. "No," he replied, his breath
hitching as Mace's other hand smoothed over the curve of his
rear. "I don't think you're a fool." His mind was racing. Which
lightsaber had he grabbed? He couldn't tell by the feel of it,
not with the circulation in his wrist being cut off by the
strength of Mace's vicious grip.
Mace leaned down to murmur in his ear. "I'm going to enjoy
punishing you for this, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan shivered. "Not likely," he whispered, and with a
supreme effort, he threw Mace off of him. Without stopping to
think, he wrenched the lightsaber out of the knapsack and
grabbed the bag's straps tightly. He caught a fevered glimpse
of Mace's furious eyes, and then he depressed the trigger on
the 'saber in his hand. He didn't have to be prescient to know
that this was the only chance at escape that the Force would
give him.
He almost sobbed in relief when the world bled into white light
around him. He could very nearly hear the bang of displaced air
that his departure left behind.
His only regret was that he couldn't stay long enough to see
the expression on Mace's face when he watched him disappear.
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