Woven

Qui-Gon slowly clenched and relaxed his toes within his boots. "Patience, Jinn. This protocol is necessary." The Jedi Master had spent almost three standard weeks dealing with Senator Palpatine's aides before finally receiving an audience with the Senator himself.

Senator Palpatine smiled insipidly. "We are forming a delegation that we will send to the planet in question and they will investigate and give a report to the Senate regarding the situation. At that point, the Senate will make an informed decision whether intervention is necessary."

Qui-Gon struggled to keep his countenance serene. He had been sitting in this small conference area listening to Palpatine skillfully evade his questions for too long. The silver-haired Senator never seemed to tire of the rhetoric he spouted. Honestly, the Jedi master would have preferred to speak with another Senator, Palpatine always seemed to leave an oily residue. However, Yoda had been dealing with the Senator from Naboo, therefore Qui-Gon would deal with him.

"Senator Palpatine, it is imperative that we rectify this situation with the utmost alacrity. I have recently returned from Larquis, as I explained to your assistant. The native government has been overthrown and the inhabitants are suffering greatly. We have a responsibility to act in a manner which will prevent further hardship and loss of life."

Palpatine leaned forward, resting his gnarled hands lightly on the polished tabletops. "I understand your frustrations, Master Jinn. However, there are protocols to be followed. You, of all people, should understand the inadvisability of charging into a potentially hostile situation without sufficient information."

Qui-Gon nodded, thinking, "Slippery little man."

With practiced ease, he responded, "I do understand and appreciate your concerns. I am concerned, however, that a group who has not had experience with the native peoples will be inefficient. As I have mentioned, I have recently spent time on Larquis and have knowledge of the people there. Would you find it acceptable if I traveled with the committee? My padawan is unable to travel. However, I am more than willing to assist in this matter."

The Senator looked at the Jedi master and frowned slightly, eyebrows furrowing, again leaning back in the cushioned chair. "I have been made aware of the situation with your apprentice, and, although no one here doubts the integrity of the Jedi order, we must forestall any accusations of bias within the investigation."

"Then, if not myself, another Jedi? Master Healer Wlere, perhaps? I feel she would be well equipped to assist in this particular investigation."

"We know the Jedi, and especially the Jedi Healers, have a close relationship with the Marshon D'lth. Appearances must be considered. Please understand that we are expediting this situation with the necessary haste. It may not be possible to find an appropriate representative. "

This was getting nowhere. Forcing himself to relax, to lean back into the softness of the chair supporting him, Qui-Gon changed tactics. "Have we discovered the details regarding the breakdown of communications within the Republic negotiating team? Master Yoda was led to believe the invasion had been derailed, that the Almevii would not attack."

"Master Yoda was provided with our best information, of course. We could not have known the Almevii were acting in bad faith. We were informed that the leader of the invading forces had signed a treaty with the Republic negotiators. Unfortunately, as you well know, not all beings function with your level of honor. It is regrettable that your apprentice was injured during the invasion. You, of course, have our deepest sympathy regarding this situation."

Qui-Gon nodded, a brief pain flashing through him at the thought of Obi-Wan, left alone in his quarters, broken and hurting. "Damn this to the Sith's Hell!" he thought. "Yoda's right, I can't avoid speaking to him any longer. When I return to the Temple, we will sit and talk. There will be no Council summons, no sudden exhaustion, no more excuses. This situation has gone on too long."

Tonight Qui-Gon would break through those walls that Obi-Wan's fractured psyche had built. "And whose fault are those walls, Jinn? Who sent him away? Who didn't want his love? Who couldn't resist having him and then couldn't deal with the consequences?"

Feeling the guilt pour through him, the Jedi master relaxed further, remaining calm while continuing to converse over pointless details with the Senator. Qui-Gon accepted his guilt with an honesty that he had not found within himself since the night he had denied Obi-Wan's love.

"I sent him away; I was wrong," he thought. "My passion for Obi-Wan frightened me. I will accept the consequences for my actions."

The Senator stood, a vaguely disgruntled look on his face. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to my regular duties, as I'm sure you must also. Someone will contact you regarding the findings of the investigatory committee, if you are interested. I appreciate your concern, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon bowed, feeling centered and capable of facing his padawan. "Of course, I am very interested in hearing your results, Senator."

Qui-Gon boarded a transport for the Temple, slowly releasing his feelings of anger and guilt into the Force. He wanted to be clear and centered when he faced Obi-Wan. He mused, "Somehow I doubt Obi-Wan will be as impressed by my balance as I am. In fact, I imagine he'll either have disappeared to the lower levels of Coruscant with Bant or be shut up in his room." Either way, Qui-Gon was determined to stop the silence that was hurting them, whether or not Obi-Wan was being cooperative.

As the transport reached the Temple, Qui-Gon was stunned to feel the levels of chaos that were emanating from the Force. The Force energies were swirling, frenetic, quite unlike their typical serene patterns. He moved into the outer entrance of the Temple, curious at its unusual silence. This area was usually bustling with activity, knights and padawans traveling to and from the Temple. Qui-Gon walked into of the main hallways, grabbing his com link to contact his padawan, hoping to receive some information. For the thousandth time, Qui-Gon reached for the empty spot where the bond he had shared with his padawan had been, hoping against hope to sense Obi-Wan. Receiving no answer, Qui-Gon quickened his pace and attempted to contact Yoda.

The further Qui-Gon moved into the Temple, the more concerned he felt. The Force felt jumbled, twisted somehow. It was marked with an anger that was almost totally swallowed up in vast surges of shame and terror. As the Jedi Master concentrated, he was horrified to discover that at the depths of the maelstrom was a familiar Force signature. "Obi-Wan!"

As he turned a corner, Qui-Gon saw a red-faced padawan stumbling down the hall. "Padawan," Qui-Gon called. The girl stopped with a jerk and Qui-Gon was shocked by the tears pouring from her eyes. "Padawan, what is the matter? Has there been an accident?"

The girl's bright blue eyes looked up at the master towering above her, widening when she realized who was speaking with her. "Mas· Master Jinn? Oh Force! You don't know? How can you not know?"

"Not know what, Padawan? What's happened?" It was back, that shame, that pain, washing up against Qui-Gon. The girl's face crumpled again and Qui-Gon realized that, as much as the emotions were affecting him, they were battering the less trained within the Temple.

"Master Jinn· Obi-Wan· he· he was sparring with one of the younger padawans· there was an accident· Obi-Wan screamed and· Padawan Pzed slammed up against the wall· he was just banging and banging· he started to bleed, Master Jinn and Obi-Wan wouldn't stop· it wouldn't stop·"

Qui-Gon was running for the training salle before the padawan could finish. "No· no· not my Obi-Wan· please Force· not my padawan· let him be all right· please Force·"

Mace Windu was standing at the door of the training salle when Qui-Gon arrived moments later. "Mace! Is Obi-Wan·" Qui-Gon's question faded into silence as he looked into the room behind Mace. The walls were streaked with blood and the energies held within were agonizing.

"Qui-Gon, your padawan is with Master Wlere, under supervision."

"How is he?"

Mace's eyebrows lifted and he sighed deeply, shaking his head. Qui-Gon felt a flash of shame as the Council member understood the lack of a training bond with his padawan. "He has a fairly significant 'saber burn on his chest, beyond that, he seems to be physically unhurt."

"The other padawan?"

Mace's eyelids lowered. "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. Padawan Pzed passed into the Force from massive internal injuries."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, swaying slightly. "His master?"

"She is with Master Yoda. She apparently experienced much of her padawan's pain and needs healing of her own."

"Oh, Mace, what happened? What in the Sith's Hells happened in there?"

Mace shook his head, "We're trying to figure that out. Apparently Padawan Kenobi stumbled and was marked by Padawan Pzed's lightsaber. There was some sort of a Force surge that Kenobi could not control. Pzed was crushed against the wall of the salle. There were masters here almost immediately, but the damage was already too severe. The healers contacted the Council."

"And Obi-Wan?"

"He was just standing there, Qui-Gon, his eyes rolled back, muscles stiff. He was never even conscious. He stayed right where he was long enough for the healers to send for a Force inhibitor collar. I just walked up to him and slipped it around his neck. He fell to the floor and has not regained consciousness."

"Can I see him, Mace? I need to see him." Qui-Gon felt like weeping. Master Gaz-na'hr was an age-mate and Obi-Wan and Pzed had spent hours watching holovids while their master's discussed the philosophies of padawan training. Now the slim, attractive youngster with the easy laugh was gone -- thrown into the Force by Obi-Wan's hand.

Mace shook his head. "Wlere says he's to have no visitors, not even you. I'm sorry, Qui-Gon, but I think, perhaps it would be best if you returned to your quarters. There are some very Dark currents surrounding this, and I have the feeling you will need to be at your best in the days to come."

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to complain, but his eyes were caught by the dark smears of blood against the wall. Nodding, Qui-Gon turned and headed to his quarters. He spent the long night mediating, Obi-Wan's cloak covering his bowed shoulders.

He could hear the noise, distant but insistent, crashing against him like a wave. Obi-Wan fought to open his eyes, to tear through the groggy film that seemed to coat his consciousness. The noise edged closer, harsh tones echoing within him. The padawan tried to focus, tried to understand the noises that surrounded him.

"· no visitors· dangerous· uncontrolled·"

Behind his eyelids, lights flashed, leaving sparking trails. One light, the emerald green of his master's lightsaber beckoned him further into himself, swirling around him, enclosing him in light.

"·Padawan· mine·"

A feeling of concern grew within him, making him stumble mentally. What were these disembodied voices saying to him? Why did they sound so familiar and yet so very far away? Something very important must be happening, something he should understand. Obi-Wan's head moved frantically on his pillow. Why couldn't he understand?

"·murdered·accident·"

A cool hand caressed his forehead, while another hand stroked his arm. The lights surrounding him were dancing, intermingling, fascinating him. He needed to touch that brightness, to draw the scintillating colors into himself. The fluid hues skipped away from his questing mind and began to fade, leaving Obi-Wan in a growing gloom. He felt the hand upon his arm tighten. A slight pinprick and even the desire to open his eyes was stolen from him.

"·Master Yoda·"

Head swimming and will being leached away, Obi-Wan simply sank back into his personal darkness. For the first time in weeks, he dreamed. He slept restlessly, drowning beneath the weight of his terror. When he awoke and managed to open his eyes, the first thing he focused on was the devastated visage of his master.

"M·master? Where am I?" His voice was dry and unused and his head felt stuffed with wool. His master reached over to a small table and raised a container of cool water to Obi-Wan's parched lips. The young man gulped the liquid, enjoying its wet slide down his throat.

Obi-Wan felt more rested than he had in days. He remembered having nightmares, but they had seemed more distant, less real somehow. The padawan assumed his mind was struggling past the fog created by some drug, which was causing the unusual emptiness he felt behind his eyes. Leaning back into the pillow, he tried to focus, tried to remember where the lack that he felt pressuring him could have come from.

Qui-Gon's sigh was loud and harsh in the silence, shattering Obi-Wan's fragile concentration. He raised his eyes to his master's face. He looked pale and drawn. Obi-Wan frowned at the dark circles beneath the reddened eyes. Qui-Gon's hair was matted and the lines on his face had deepened perceptibly.

Qui-Gon looked old, ill-used.

Obi-Wan reached out instinctively to comfort, to protect the man he loved. Qui-Gon leaned back, stopping the motion with a hand and waited to speak until Obi-Wan had again settled into the white pillows at the head of the bed. "Padawan, you're at the healers. Do you know why you're here? What do you remember?"

"What do I remember? It's very distant, Master. I don't really know."

"Padawan, it is important, vitally important, for you to tell me what you do remember." Qui-Gon's eyes flashed briefly, before the fire in them was banked yet again. "Think for me, Obi-Wan. What is the last thing you remember?"

Obi-Wan frowned, his eyebrows furrowing with effort. "I· we were meditating in the gardens. We had an argument and you left for· some meeting· something with the Senate, I believe· I bathed· sent a note to Bant·"

"And then, what did you do then, Padawan?" Qui-Gon seemed eerily intense and Obi-Wan felt a stirring of deep unease. What had happened to put that sorrow in his master's eyes?

He struggled to capture the memories that scampered through his mind. "I· I went to train· to practice some 'saber katas· try to loosen up, you know. I practiced the first form by myself and then Pzed came in. He was happy because his master had given him the rest of the day free. He teased me about my hair, said I looked scruffy. I told him I was still recovering. He wanted to work out with me; we were going to take it slow, easy. We were sparring, but I was tired and I fell·then I woke up here. I assume I got hurt, Master?"

Qui-Gon simply nodded.

Obi-Wan shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Pzed's never going to let me live this down -- stumbling into his 'saber and ending up at the healers like some initiate. I'm surprised not he's here now to make fun of me. This'll be all over the Temple in no time. They'll be calling me Oafy-Wan again for months!"

Obi-Wan sat up abruptly as his master paled and turned from the bed. "Master?" he cried, wincing at the rip of pain he felt from the raw burn across his torso. "Wha·" his question broke off as the weight of the smooth metal shifted around his throat. He raised his fingers to trace the collar, realizing abruptly that the odd emptiness he had been feeling was the sensation of being denied the Force.

The lights in the room seemed to dim as Obi-Wan scooted back away from his master, not stopping until he felt the chill of the wall against his back. "What is this, Master? Why have you let them do this? What is going on here? I don't understand. Master?" The normally calm voice was reedy with panic.

Qui-Gon's shoulders bowed and his eyes were bright with tears as he looked at the frightened man on the bed. "It's there for your own protection, Obi-Wan."

"My protection? Protection from whom, Master?"

"From yourself."

"From myself? I don't understand! What did I do?"

"This is not the time to discuss it, Padawan. The healers say you need rest."

"Rest? Not the time? Master! Don't turn away from me, please." Obi-Wan's breath was hitching in his chest, every movement jostling the Force inhibitor, calling his attention to it. A solemn-faced healer entered the room carrying a tray.

"Master Jinn? Master Wlere says Padawan Kenobi needs his medication and his sleep."

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan's wide eyes. "I'm sorry. I must go. I will be here when you awaken. I promise."

Obi-Wan flinched from that dead voice, so unlike the man he had known for years. His hands began to tremble as he wrapped them around the vile collar, tugging. He could hear the Darkness within him calling, and he ached for the soothing song of the Force to surround him. As terrifying as not using the Force had been, the pain was nothing compared to this vacuum devouring his awareness.

Obi-Wan begged brokenly as he watched Qui-Gon stand and turn to leave. "Master, please· please take this off. I don't know what I did, but I· Oh, Force! I can't lose this too. You can't let them take everything from me, Master."

Qui-Gon stopped short and moved toward the bed, face twisting in desperation. "Padawan. Please. You must relax. Let the healers do their jobs." The familiar hands reached for the trembling body and Obi-Wan jerked away, knocking over a small metallic table with a clatter.

"Take it off! Take it off! Oh, Force. Qui-Gon, make them take it off!" Obi-Wan's fingernails tore at his neck, leaving bloody trails as he yanked at the collar. He stumbled across the floor, vaguely feeling his body slam into furniture.

The warmth and smell of Qui-Gon surrounded him, as the strong arms enveloped him, moving him back onto the bed, cradled between long legs. He struggled futilely against the muscular chest before him, sobbing out in his fear and frustration.

"Shh· Padawan. You must rest." Slowly, Obi-Wan's panic eased, his body responding to the warmth and long-remembered comfort. He buried his head into Qui-Gon's tunics, listening for that steady heartbeat.

"Please, Master. Please. Please. Please." The whisper flowed from him, steady in its message and intensity. When the healer came up beside the bed, Obi-Wan tensed and prepared to bolt again.

Those strong arms tightened around him again and that deep voice rumbled out of Qui-Gon's chest. "Give that to me. I'll give the injection to him."

A soft voice and then a biting response. "By the Force, you will not touch my Padawan again! If he is to be sedated it will be by my hand. He has been through enough and I will not leave him again. Not for Master Wlere, not for the Council, not even at his own request. Now, if you wish him to receive the medication, I suggest you hand it over to me."

The growl in Qui-Gon's voice seemed to surround him, the familiarity lulling him into acquiescence. Obi-Wan curled into his master's warm body. A blunt finger raised his chin and those eyes captured his.

"Padawan. I'm going to give you something to help you rest. You must not fight me."

"Please, Master. Don't leave me here."

"I will not leave you, Padawan. You have my word. In return, you must not fight me. You must do as I ask so the healers will let me stay. Do you understand, Padawan?"

"I don't understand any of this, Master. Not a bit of it. I will do as you ask, but I do not understand this."

A sharp sting and then Obi-Wan felt the darkness rushing towards him yet again. He felt his body settle down as Qui-Gon leaned onto the bed. As unconsciousness stole his awareness, Obi-Wan felt fingers stroking the hair away from his face. He felt soft breath brush across his face as he heard the broken whisper. "Oh, Obi-Wan, I wish I could understand this. I have to understand. I must."

The dawn came, slowly dimming the brightness of the millions of artificial city lights visible from the window. The light kissed the metal implements lying randomly around the small white room, creating dancing prisms of light. The warmth stayed outside, the chill of the room trapped by the transparisteel.

Qui-Gon sat, watching the day begin, one hand resting lightly on the chest of the young man sleeping heavily beside him. The eyes behind the closed lids moved constantly, restlessly. A small line, an indicator of pain, marred the normally smooth forehead.

Obi-Wan had been constantly sedated since Qui-Gon had ensconced himself at his padawan's bedside. Each time Obi-Wan had attempted to regain consciousness, Qui-Gon had looked into those devastated, confused eyes and asked that Obi-Wan trust him, release his spirit into a drugged emptiness that forgot pain, forgot anguish, forgot everything.

Each time Obi-Wan's eyes had darkened at his master's words and he had simply nodded, burying his head into Qui-Gon's chest and holding out his trembling arm. The shot would be efficiently administered and the tense body would relax. Then Qui-Gon would feel his tunics dampen with Obi-Wan's silent tears as that battered consciousness slipped away.

They could only keep Obi-Wan sedated for so long. He needed to eat, to get up off this bed, to begin healing. First, Qui-Gon had to figure out how to get that damned Force inhibitor off. He sighed deeply. "Where do we go from here? How can we possibly fix this?"

Lost in his thoughts, the Jedi master jumped as the door slipped open. "Relax, Padawan mine." Yoda's voice was hoarser than normal, exhausted and the little Master moved slowly across the room. His eyes, when they met Qui-Gon's were solemn.

"Master." Qui-Gon fought back his questions, simply waiting until the elder Jedi sat heavily on a padded chair.

"This situation, unexpected it was. Repercussions there will be."

"Yes, Master. I do understand that. How does Master Gaz-na'hr fare?"

"Heartsore she is. Much anger is there, and much sadness. Strong she is in the Light and heal she will, but not for some time."

"My sympathies are with her. I ache for her loss. I had intended to speak with her, but I thought that I would be unwelcome." Qui-Gon began to unconsciously stroke along Obi-Wan's spine, comforting himself.

"Company she does not desire now, Qui-Gon. But relay your sorrow I will."

Qui-Gon nodded, his head feeling heavy with emotion. He knew intimately the pain of losing a padawan, although not to death. Qui-Gon hoped the fact that P'zed was now one with the Force gave Gaz-na'hr a small comfort.

"How fares your padawan?"

"He doesn't remember the accident at all. He is completely confused by the Force inhibitor and is suffering from constant nightmares."

"But sleep he can?"

"Under sedation, Master. I have administered the sedatives to prevent Obi-Wan from hurting himself." Qui-Gon glanced at the fresh welts along Obi-Wan's throat where the young man had attempted to remove the collar. "It seemed kinder than restraining him." He shrugged sadly.

"Told me, has Master Wlere, that refused the healers' help you have."

Qui-Gon nodded curtly. "I will not allow them to touch Obi-Wan without his permission. As he is incapable of voicing his refusal, I am speaking in his stead."

"Sure you are that his wishes you are following?"

"Yes, Master Yoda. I am sure of that, if I am sure of nothing else."

"Met the Council has, Padawan." Qui-Gon knew the tone in that voice, the resignation. He looked into his former master's eyes, tensing himself against the coming blow. "Decided they have that dangerous Padawan Kenobi is. Remain on, the Force inhibitor will."

"For how long, Master?"

"Until released by the healers, your padawan is. Then a trial will there be."

"And what exactly will Obi-Wan need to accomplish to be released by the healers?"

Yoda sighed. "Talked to Master Wlere, have I. Very concerned the healers are. Very interested in studying Obi-Wan's condition is the Council." He trailed off, face showing his discomfort.

"Master?"

The large ears drooped. "Much unrest there is within the Temple about this situation. Many attempts to have Kenobi permanently denied the Force, there were·"

Qui-Gon sat up straight, cradling the sleeping body closer to him. "Permanently? But Obi-Wan is sick! This was not malicious!"

"Malicious or not, remain the collar does, Master Jinn, until speaks the Council. Darkness can be feared here."

"Obi-Wan is not Dark!" The roar vibrated through the room and a healer came rushing up to the door, only to be waved away by a single motion of Yoda's hand.

Yoda looked at Qui-Gon and sighed. "Qui-Gon, love I have for your padawan, but murdered a Jedi he did. Allowed to do it again he must not be. Need to understand him, the healers do. Spoken the Council has, with blessings of mine or not."

Desperate blue eyes looked across the room. "Master, this will destroy Obi-Wan. This trial is more than he can bear."

"Then perhaps a Jedi Obi-Wan cannot be."

Qui-Gon breathed in deeply, attempting to control the fury within himself. "Master, I am trying to keep Obi-Wan sane and whole. Whether or not he becomes a Jedi Knight at this particular point is completely inconsequential."

"Padawan, agree with your actions the Council does not. Needed you are the Senate to contact about the Larquis situation. Leave Obi-Wan to the healers you must."

"No, Master. I will not leave Obi-Wan."

The ears lowered even further. "The Council·"

"·has many Jedi to choose from. I will not leave him."

"Qui-Gon·"

The bright blue eyes flashed. "Master, he stayed on Larquis for weeks, slowly dying. He was hanging, caught between death and life -- kept apart from everything he is. Something happened to him in that Web, Master, something that undid him. We sent him there, me by my actions and you by your words, and it is our responsibility to help him put himself back together.

"I wronged him, Master by not believing in him, by thinking he was too young to know his own heart. I denied the strength of my emotions and tried to force Obi-Wan to do the same.

"And you sent him away· sent my Padawan to a planet without allowing him protection, my protection. Allowed him to stay there, helpless, until he was almost lost to us.

"You want me to wake him up, tell him that his life is over, he is no Jedi, he is an experiment of the Council's, of the Healers'? That, in his illness, he killed a friend and now he must pay?"

Yoda stood up and headed towards the bed. "And what want you from me? Spoken the Council has, my argument not withstanding."

Qui-Gon stopped, feeling Obi-Wan's restless motions against him, desperate even in his drugged state. "I want to help him, to get this collar off him, let him be aware, help him·"

"Do this I cannot, Qui-Gon."

"Then help me get him off-planet, Master. Let me take him away from here." Qui-Gon slipped from behind Obi-Wan to kneel in front of his master, head bowed low. "Please, Master, if you have ever felt love for me, help me save my padawan."

"Lost to us, P'zed is."

"Obi-Wan may not be."

"Spoken, the Council has, Master Jinn." Yoda turned slowly, leaving the room with a stable stride.

Qui-Gon rose and settled himself beside his padawan, slowly running his large hands through the coppery hair.

"How am I going to get him out of here?" he thought. "Where will I take him? I could fly him off-planet if I can just get him past the healers and away from the Temple proper. If Yoda won't help me, perhaps Mace·"

Qui-Gon's com link beeped. "Yes?"

Yoda's low rumble could be heard clearly in the stillness. "Requested, Master Wlere is, to report to the Council after the mid-day meal."

"The Council?"

"Yes. Feels the Council does that hear from the healers regarding your padawan they must. Last until the evening the meeting will."

"I see, Master."

"Waiting at the dock, a small transport there is. Heading to Vilo IV, it is. Quiet, this place is, out of the way. Peaceful."

Qui-Gon smiled. Why had he ever doubted his master? "I understand, Master Yoda."

"Reports to me will be made regarding my padawan's padawan."

"Yes, Master. And Larquis?"

"See to the Larquis situation, I will. Reminded of my duty towards it I was by an old friend. Go I must. May the Force be with you, Padawan mine."

"And with you, Master." Qui-Gon said, beginning his plans to escape with his padawan.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, blinking owlishly at the unfamiliar surroundings. He was lying in a large bed, with soft, but simple blankets covering him. The room was rustic, rough-hewn walls with one large window looking out onto a copse of trees. A round table sat in the middle of the room, bracketed by two padded chairs.

The dazed eyes hopped randomly, trying to feed his mind with information. Obi-Wan's memory was filled with odd glimpses of his master's tunics, the sensation of being held, being comforted. Comforted because· something was broken· Qui-Gon was protecting him from someone. Obi-Wan realized the song he heard was the Force, humming around him softly. He smiled, closing his eyes and listening to its sound.

Feeling more awake and curious, he attempted to sit up, feeling the room sway alarmingly. "Breathe, Obi. Focus and breathe." Slowly he moved his legs off the bed and onto the floor, holding tightly to the bedpost near him as he tried to shift his weight onto his legs. He felt as weak as a newborn eopie and his feet had never felt so far away from his head.

"Padawan? What are you doing?" Qui-Gon's voice made Obi-Wan jerk and lose his grip on the smooth post. As he slid toward the floor, Obi-Wan felt a surge of Force cradle him, keeping him from a harsh impact with the ground. Qui-Gon walked forward, voice strident with his concern. "Padawan, you need to stay in bed. You've been sedated for days and need to get your strength back."

Obi-Wan felt a laugh begin deep in his belly and fought to keep it down. Smirking, he gestured to his position, an ungraceful lump on the floor. "Apparently you're right, Master. I don't suppose you could, in your great wisdom, help me up off the floor?"

Qui-Gon stopped, a surprised look on his face. Then he nodded and bent to lift his padawan onto the bed. Obi-Wan sighed as his head hit the pillow, the gentle smile still gracing his face.

"How do you feel, Padawan?"

"Weak, dizzy, a little confused. The Force feels· distant, somehow. Is that a result of the medication? Was I hurt? And where are we?" Obi-Wan tried to remember, to piece together the recent events of his life, but they were disconnected flashes, images without context.

Qui-Gon's eyes shied away, glancing down at the painfully thin body. "We're in a place where you can recover comfortably, Obi-Wan. You've been· unwell and Master Yoda and I felt it best for you to convalesce here, away from the Temple."

Obi-Wan nodded, frowning. "Are you liable to catch this illness, Master? You don't look as if you've slept in days."

"No. I've been worried, Padawan. That's all. You seem to be reacting well to the change in scenery, though. Shall I find us some food?" Without waiting for Obi-Wan's reply, Qui-Gon turned and headed out of the room. Obi-Wan rested, floating in and out of a doze until Qui-Gon came back in with a mug of hot soup.

Days passed with Qui-Gon insisting that Obi-Wan not leave the bed without help. Obi-Wan was touched by the care, but was beginning to feel restless, chafing under the constant attention. Finally, the young man had had enough coddling, and when Qui-Gon left him to take a shower, Obi-Wan crawled out of bed. Slowly, he made his way across the room and to the window. The trees were dark and thick, huge drops of rain gathered on them. Obi-Wan opened the window and stuck his hand out, feeling the cool splash of the water as it hit his palm.

The air smelled good, cool and fresh and nothing like the sheets of a sickbed. Moving as quickly as his trembling legs would allow, Obi-Wan moved to the door of the cabin. The weight of the fresh air was somehow stabilizing, solidifying, and Obi-Wan stepped outdoors, face upturned.

The rain felt wonderful, sliding down his face in fat, juicy drops. His hair, well grown out from its usual padawan cut, was becoming soaked. Obi-Wan wandered away from the cabin, entranced at the smell of the moist soil and green vegetation and the gentle song of the Force. He was tempted to reach for it, ask that song to fill him, when he was distracted by the wet squish of the dark blue mud between his bare toes.

Surprised, he laughed aloud and that noise startled a small avian in the trees above. Obi-Wan jumped at the shriek it made and looked up just in time to catch a face full of water cascading off the huge leaves above. His laughter shook him, driving him to his knees in the mud. "What would my master say if he saw me now, bare-footed, soaking wet and on my knees in the mud?"

"I would say, Padawan, that you are less than two moments away from getting beaten." Obi-Wan looked up, startled. His master stood there, half-dressed, damp hair curling across his chest, eyes wild and frightened. "I thought I told you to stay in bed. I couldn't find you. I saw you from the window, on your knees and shaking. It wasn't until I got out here that I realized you were unharmed."

Obi-Wan ducked his head, more to hide his inappropriate grin than out of shame or guilt. "I'm sorry, Master, but the rain felt so good and the trees smelled so alive and I've been cooped up for so long·"

He peered up, heart slowing as that concerned face relaxed. Qui-Gon bent down to help the kneeling man to his feet. Obi-Wan snuggled into those warm arms. "Hmm· you feel good, Master. Warm."

A soft chuckle drifted down. "Silly. Why didn't you come in if you were cold?"

"I didn't know I was cold until you warmed me." The arms holding Obi-Wan tightened and the padawan swayed. Exhaustion poured over him, settling in deeper than the rain.

"Come, Obi-Wan. Let's get you inside and warmed up." The walk into the cabin seemed much longer than the trip out and Obi-Wan was grateful for his master's support. Together, they moved through the room and into the 'fresher, where Qui-Gon began to strip off the sopping wet tunics.

"I can undress myself, Master." Those hands never stopped, never acknowledged his words. Qui-Gon's eyes looked into Obi-Wan's, and somewhere in his mind his master's voice echoed.

"Trust me." The hands just continued, gently removing his clothing and then moving him into the warm cascade of water. Qui-Gon's hands didn't leave him then either, smoothing over the pale skin, sliding over muscles that were beginning to lose definition and hollows that were too pronounced. Obi-Wan relaxed fully, sinking himself into the touches, the comfort, the feel of his master's touch.

He was tenderly dried and moved to the bed. Qui-Gon wrapped him within the warm, handmade quilts and gently dried his wet hair. "You need a haircut, Obi-Wan. You're positively shaggy." Carefully, the Jedi master separated the long hair and steadily began to braid it, holding the strands between his fingers as if they were priceless.

After Qui-Gon threaded the bright beads onto the finished braid, Obi-Wan slid in naked between the sheets. He felt a pang of loneliness as his master returned to the 'fresher and he heard the splashing of water.

Qui-Gon returned to the bed and Obi-Wan jumped as he felt the warmth of bare skin against his back. "Shh· Obi-Wan, my Obi-Wan. Relax. Rest." Obi-Wan shivered as he felt that voice slipping over him, a physical caress. Qui-Gon's arms moved over him, massaging gently, pulling him fully against his master.

Obi-Wan rested bonelessly into the embrace. Qui-Gon's breath brushed his ear, sending little electric shocks down the young man's body. Obi-Wan bit his lip as his body responded slowly to Qui-Gon's proximity. Embarrassed at his lack of control, he tried to move away, but Qui-Gon's hand moved gently to his hip.

"Relax, Obi-Wan. Let me touch you. Let me help you."

"Master!" The hand stroked the protruding hipbone, feather-light, distracting him from his concerns.

"You are so beautiful, my Obi-Wan. So brave. I have missed your touch, the feel of your skin." As he spoke, his strong hands touched Obi-Wan's thighs, smoothing over the warm flesh. Gently he massaged down the trembling muscles, before tangling in the soft curls of Obi-Wan's groin. A single finger traced the stiff curve of Obi-Wan's cock, moving from base to tip, swirling softly around the head before sliding down to trace the crease between hip and thigh. Slowly the soft touch continued, relaxing as it aroused, soft endearments pouring from Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan felt his body tighten as Qui-Gon slowly pumped his erection, the friction eased by the Force. His hips wanted to move, to thrust into that grip, but Qui-Gon held him still. Obi-Wan's breath came faster, shallower as the hand worked him ceaselessly.

"Please, Qui-Gon." The pressure was almost painful and Obi-Wan's body trembled in his master's embrace. He could feel the weight of Qui-Gon's emotions pressing him into the mattress, making his limbs heavy in their passion.

Obi-Wan felt a soft lick along the rim of his ear and a harsh whisper insinuated itself into his brain. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, I do love you." With a gasp of fierce joy, Obi-Wan tumbled through his orgasm, seed covering the enclosing hand.

Dazed, Obi-Wan rolled over and nestled into his master's chest. He felt Qui-Gon reach for the hypodermic on the bedside table. "Let me give you your medication, Padawan and then we'll sleep, beloved."

"But what about this?" Obi-Wan stroked along his master's still-prominent erection.

"Don't worry about me, Obi-Wan. It's not the first night I will have slept next to you and wanted you. Now, give me your arm." A sleepy sigh and a pale arm lifted out from under the sheets.

"How much longer, Master?" The sting was quick and Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered shut.

"Just a few more days. I'm trying to ease you off of the sedative. Beside, you need the sleep."

"Stay with me, Qui-Gon?" A satisfied chuckle rocked the body beside Obi-Wan and arms enclosed him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Padawan. Sleep." The soft whisper of Qui-Gon's breath followed Obi-Wan down into the darkness.

To Part 5