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You Belong to Me

by Aunris Renka ( aunris_renka@yahoo.com )

It was after midnight when I finally got to our quarters. Qui-Gon and Anakin weren't there. Won't be there for Force knows how long. Not until they find whoever assassinated one of the ruling council of . . . of . . . wherever. The name escaped me for the moment, my mind blurry from lack of rest. He and Anakin had left for the mission a few days before I'd returned. We might be Bonded, but Qui- Gon and I are Jedi first. We can deal with twice as many crisis by working apart. The Jedi are relatively few in number and it seems that the troubles of the galaxy are growing.

It's lonely. We often are separated. Too many times both of us are off Coruscant, assigned to missions on the opposite sides of the galaxy. Or when one of us is on Coruscant the other is away on a mission. It'd been almost two months since I'd seen Qui-Gon. Although I can always sense him through our bond, the lack of his physical presence was a constant dull ache.

I dropped my bag inside the door, exhausted from weeks of convincing factions on a backwater world that they should stop slaughtering each other and make peace. Once upon a time I would have just stumbled into our bedroom and collapsed into bed. Now I head straight for the small dining room table.

Anakin started it, strangely enough. About a year ago, I had returned to find that yet again I'd missed Qui-Gon by only a couple of days. There on the table was a stack of flatpics and a note from Anakin.

The flatpics were of the various people and places Anakin had encountered during their mission to the planet Nile and their brief stay at the Temple between missions. It took me almost half an hour before I noticed any of the rest of them after I saw the one Anakin had placed on top of the pile. In it Qui-Gon was standing on roughly carved stone steps overlooking a mist shrouded jungle. His attention was focused on the vibrantly colored insect perched on his outstretched hand. The flatpic had captured that slight smile of his when he's entranced by some simple beauty of nature.

When I left for my next mission, again leaving before Qui-Gon had returned, letters of my own rested on the table. The flatpic was in a simple wood frame, on the nightstand next to my side of our shared bed.

Over the months, each time I returned to Coruscant, there on the table would be a letter from Anakin and flatpics. Often they would be the only indication of what the two had been up to. Qui-Gon, although I love him dearly, is a terrible correspondent. An occasional brief message was the best I had come to expect from him. On the rare occasions when we were both at the Temple, I would complain about his lack of communication with me while we are separated. He always laughed and said that it was likely the result of having written far too many mission reports that required him to detail his every action and motivation.

I admit, I'd taken to reading those very reports just to get a better sense of where my bondmate had been and what he had been up to. I had assisted in the writing of enough of those reports as his Padawan to be able to read between the lines, to know what he had been truly thinking behind the formal words directed at the Council. Anakin's chatty letters, despite his frequent jumps in topics and rather unique point of view, became a treasured source of information about how Qui-Gon really was. They were uncensored observations into their lives. At the same time, I felt a pang of sadness that I was no longer a part of Qui-Gon's everyday life. I consoled myself with the fact that at least I was some part of his life, however infrequently our paths crossed.

I simply had to content myself with what I had and accept what I did not, even if what I did not have was my bondmate at my side.

***********

Qui-Gon was laughing, his head thrown slightly back. A rare sight, my beloved Master letting himself go like that in public. Also in the flatpic was a man, about Qui-Gon's age. A handsome man. A handsome man smiling and standing near Qui-Gon. Too near. Jealousy welled up inside me. I tried to tell myself that it was uncalled for and unJedi like. Qui-Gon loves me, I know that. Over the following days, I reminded myself of that over and over. Tried to ignore the things the more irrational part of my brain was saying. Things like how long its been since Qui-Gon and I have seen each other. How the man in the flatpic had been with Qui-Gon in a situation where he felt comfortable enough to laugh out loud. I wondered what had been going on when the flatpic was taken. What happened after the flatpic was taken.

Brutally, I forced my thoughts away from the path they were taking. I trusted Qui-Gon with my life. How could I not trust him with my heart.

I grabbed my workout gear and found an empty practice room. It was a technique that I was using more and more frequently during my stays at the Temple. Exhaust myself physically, so I could fall asleep in the too big, cold bed in our shared quarters. Except it didn't feel anymore as if I truly shared those quarters with anyone, after more than seven months of being apart. I just took my turn staying in them, then when I wasn't there Qui-Gon and Anakin occupied them.

Did Qui-Gon have difficulty sleeping alone in our bed? It was his before it was ours. He slept alone in it for many years before welcoming me into it. In truth, not always alone. He had been discrete about it, but he also made no secret that he had many lovers. The Living Force celebrates life, and one very large aspect of life is sex. Qui-Gon has said that the moment of orgasm can feel very similar to the rapture of being totally immersed in the flow of the Living Force.

I had the occasional lover, but they were all friends with whom I was just exploring the physical aspects of sex. And, I had never brought any lover into our quarters. It had just felt wrong to have sex with another person in the home I shared with him. I had been in love with Qui-Gon long before I had admitted it to him, and it was longer still before he had admitted to me that he returned my feelings.

What doe he feel, when he is here in our quarters and I am on the other side of the galaxy? Is he lonely without me or has he found a way to comfort himself?

************ *

I stared out the window, looking at but not seeing the shadow of the shuttle I was in skim over the surface of the blue-gray ocean. Out of the corner of my eye I would catch a glimpse of the occasional flash of sunlight reflecting off the shuttle's silver wings.

I should have been reading the reports and documents spread out before me. The charges against the newly re-elected president were quite serious. The results of my investigation would decide if he remained in office. But instead of studying charges of bribery and a bungled burglary of the opposing political party's headquarters, all I could think of was the flatpic.

The latest in the series showing Qui-Gon interacting with various handsome men. In this one he was dancing with someone who looked like he stepped out of a dream. Gorgeous, well built, dark hair with the temples just starting to be brushed with silver. Anakin even mentioned him in the letter that accompanied the flatpics. He was a head of a charitable organization that was well renowned for the work they did with homeless families. According to the letter, he and Qui- Gon had hit it off almost instantly. He had even invited Qui-Gon to tour one of the charity's main shelters. Qui-Gon had supposedly been most impressed by the man's work.

I tried to tell myself it meant nothing. Of course Qui-Gon would be impressed with someone who had dedicated his life to helping others. As for the dance, it was just a dance. At social functions Jedi had to intermingle with all sorts. I'd been required to dance with many people in order to fulfill the requirements of courtesy, so had Qui- Gon. I'd been with him at functions where he and I had spent the majority of the evening dancing and making small talk with others, barely seeing each other all night.

But then, we always managed to dance at least one dance together. How long had it been since I'd danced with Qui-Gon? How long since I'd even seen him? I realized with a start it was almost a standard year.

I fingered the flatpic of Qui-Gon dancing with the dream. Almost a standard year. And in the two years before that, we had only seen each other a handful of times. I had to face the possibility. I'd been trying to deny it, but I just couldn't anymore. Qui-Gon might no longer be interested in a relationship with someone half his age that he barely saw. He was a virile man. Was it fair that promises made so long ago, before the full truth of the separateness of our lives was revealed, should bind him? Perhaps he should be free to pursue what happiness he could with others. The thought of loosing him made me want to curl into a tiny ball around the pain that blossomed in my chest. But the thought of keeping him trapped in a relationship he no longer desired, where he was no longer happy, was even worse.

There was only one course I could take. When I returned to Coruscant, if Qui-Gon was there, I could deal with it face to face. Hear from his own lips whether or not he no longer desired to be my spouse. If he was not on Coruscant, I would leave a letter. For the first time ever, coward that I am, I prayed to the Force that he would not be there.

*********

The war crimes trials I was overseeing were horrifying. The atrocities that were revealed to the courts seemed to grow even worse each day. The sick feeling I carried in my heart, however, was only partially caused by the recitals of crimes I listened to. At my last stop over on Coruscant, I had left a note for Qui-Gon on our small dining table. Only one line long, it gave him the option to end our relationship.

I felt the moment he found it. A ripple of shock through our bond, then nothing. He had kept himself tightly shielded against me ever since. That gave me my answer. When I next returned to the Temple it would be to remove my few possessions from the rooms that had been my home since I was thirteen years old.

Throughout the trials, I managed to keep my facial expression neutral, my voice even. I kept up this façade during the long walk back to my quarters. It was vital that the appearance of unbiased Jedi be maintained so that faith in the fairness of the trials would not be shaken. I longed to be in the privacy of my rooms, when I could finally let the mask drop.

I stepped through the door of my assigned rooms, my eyes widened in surprise. There stood Qui-Gon Jinn.

Most people would have seen the epitome of stoic Jedi Master, but I knew him too well. The slight clenching of his jaw, the way he held his shoulders, and eyes that burned like blue flames. All broadcasting clearly to me a barely held in check fury.

In his hand was a piece of flimsy. I recognized it as the note I had left, offering him his chance at freedom from me. He held it out towards me. I noticed his hand trembled slightly. I could feel my own hands shaking, but I knew it wasn't from anger.

"What was the meaning of this?" He demanded.

"I thought I was very clear. Do you wish to end our bonding?" I held onto my mask of impassive calm desperately. I would not have him make a decision based on a misplaced sense of sympathy for my hurt feelings. Hurt feelings, I silently mocked myself. Ripped and bleeding soul was closer to the mark.

"Do you wish to end our bonding, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked.

"What I want doesn't matter. If you want to end our bonding, tell me and have done with it." Have done with it and be gone, I thought. Go so that I can allow myself to collapse in despair.

"Do you wish to end our bonding?" He demanded again, fierce and unrelenting.

"No." A whisper.

"Then why?" His hand clenched, crumpling the flimsy.

"I do not want to keep you trapped in a relationship you are no longer interested in. If you are tired of being bound to a man half your age, half your worth, one that you rarely see . . . If you have found someone else, I want you to be free to have that love."

"And you, Obi-Wan? Have you grown tired of being tied to a man twice your age? Have you found someone else?" His voice was cold and hard. I could only guess at what emotions were burning within him, his shields were still held tight against me.

My mask of Jedi calm slipped. To my shame, I felt a tear slide down my cheek. "There has never been anyone else for me. But I will not have you stay if you want to seek happiness elsewhere."

He crossed the space between us in two long strides. Grabbing me in a crushing embrace, he pressed his mouth against mine. His kiss was as possessive as it was passionate. I felt his shields drop, his love and lust for me flooding through our bond.

"I belong to you," his mouth still pressed against mine.

My reply was to simply moan and wrap my arms tighter around him.

"Say it," he pulled back slightly.

"You belong to me," I said hoarsely.

Sweeping me up into his arms, he carried me to the bed. He tore the clothes from me roughly. Hands, tongue, lips, teeth, all laying claim to each bit of flesh that was revealed. Soon I was naked, writhing with need.

"Qui-Gon," I moaned. "Please, need you. Want to feel you." I reached to pull off his clothes.

His strong hands caught mine, pushing them above my head and holding them there. "You wanted to know if I still wanted this bond between us. So you'll lay still and I'll show you."

Time and again he brought me to the edge. All his attention was focused on enticing the maximum sensation from every nerve ending in my body and the attention of a Master Jedi is considerable. I reached for him, only to have my arms once more pushed to the mattress. "Don't move," he growled.

I managed not to reach for him again, but I couldn't help but move. Squirming, twisting, thrusting up against him as he licked, sucked, kissed and stroked for what seemed like an eternity. More than just the physical, through our bond came the depth of his desire for me, his devotion to me. The Force around us practically hummed with the emotions we were generating. I was beyond speech, reduced to an animalistic moaning. He knelt above me, legs pressed against my sides, pushing himself down onto me.

I longed to thrust upwards, but Qui-Gon's earlier demand, reinforced by his hands on my hips, kept me still as he slowly lowered himself onto me, centimeter by centimeter. At long last, I was fully sheathed within him. He held frustratingly still, even as I whimpered and begged for him to move.

I felt his breath on my face as he whispered, "Who holds my heart?"

I opened my eyes to find him staring intently at me. His blue eyes had darkened to indigo. At that moment it seemed the universe stilled, only he and I existed. I would have believed that any coherent thoughts were beyond my pleasure numbed brain, but I somehow clearly spoke the words I now knew without a doubt were true. "I hold your heart, just as you hold mine. Always and forever."

His lips brushed mine, as he echoed, "Always and forever. Come for me, darling." A few hard thrusts and I found my release, screaming his name. He followed me a heartbeat later. Afterwards, holding each other close, we slept.

*******

We had woken, sticky with dried sweat and semen. Qui-Gon left me only long enough to fetch a damp cloth and a towel from the fresher, gently wiping us both clean. Now we lay on our sides, Qui-Gon spooned behind me, one leg possessively wrapped around my legs.

"I am sorry, beloved," Qui-Gon said, brushing his fingers gently across my cheek.

"Sorry?"

"For neglecting you so badly that you believed I no longer loved you." Remorse tinged his voice.

"The fault was mine for doubting you. I let my imagination run wild after seeing those flatpics of you." Indeed, now that I was again held in his arms, I wondered how I could have ever been foolish enough to question his feelings for me.

"Flatpics?"

"Some of the ones Anakin left for me. Flatpics of you with men you encountered during your missions off planet, most of them quite handsome. I'm ashamed to say how jealous I became," I felt a slight blush creep up into my face. A Jedi was supposed to be above such petty feelings and I had thought myself well past the insecurities of my youth.

Qui-Gon's response surprised me. Sitting upright, his brows furrowed slightly and a frown appeared on his face. "For the past several months Anakin has occasionally raised the subject of our relationship. Questions about how we could maintain a close bond if we remained so far from each other, inquires about your previous romantic experiences, and wondering if I was ever worried about anyone making advances to you and what your response might be. In retrospect I now realize he was doing everything possible to sow the seeds of doubt. And, at the same time, he apparently was doing the same to you."

"Why?" Outrage and puzzlement warred for supremacy. "I never sensed in Anakin any disapproval of our relationship. Why would he work so hard to destroy it?"

"I don't think he was trying to destroy it. Anakin was with me when I read your letter. I thought that you wanted to break our bond and it nearly killed me. It was Anakin who urged me to come here, to you. He argued that I needed to see you in person first, rather than make assumptions about your motivations based on a one sentence message."

"You think he was trying to strengthen our relationship by making each of us jealous?" In a way this was almost as terrible as Anakin trying to destroy our bond, if he believed that the negative possessiveness of jealously would bring anything but harm to us.

"I think he was trying to find a way to get us to together. How often has Anakin questioned why, if we were bonded, do we serve separately in the field. How often was he told that a Jedi must go where he is needed." Qui-Gon took my hand in his, "How often has he sensed my disappointment when we arrive at the Temple to find that you have already gone. So if he could create a need for us to see each other . . . "

I pulled Qui-Gon back down, snuggling against his side. "If you are correct, his motives were good, although his methods need some work. I have to admit, in all honesty, I am grateful for the results."

I felt the low rumble of a chuckle in Qui-Gon's chest. "Those methods will most certainly get some work, starting with him writing a very long ethics paper with extensive annotations. And an apology to you. Perhaps you could also give him some insight into his methods while you spar, if you don't mind practicing with him."

I knew, and I knew Qui-Gon knew, how much Anakin enjoyed sparring, so Qui-Gon was not entirely displeased with his young apprentice. "I will do my best to make sure we get a chance to do so. When do you leave?" I dreaded the answer, but needed to know how much precious time I had with my bondmate before he disappeared again from my everyday life.

"We're not. Anakin and I will assist you with your mission here, then we are all going to spend some time together on Coruscant. I'll inform the Council later today."

It was so tempting, I wanted nothing more, but duty was clear. Qui- Gon interrupted my objection with a long, deep kiss. When we finally returned to the conversation, he said, "Our duty as Jedi will not be ignored. Anakin will benefit from spending some time at the Temple, taking classes and building stronger relationships among his fellow Jedi. You and I both can contribute to any number of committees and as instructors. Afterwards . . . "

Qui-Gon's voice trailed off. We both knew that after a few weeks, we would once more go our separate ways. Perhaps in a few years, when Anakin was older and more experienced, we would be able to pair on those missions that required a team of Jedi, but until then, we would return to our lonely separate lives.

"Afterwards, we do our duty as Jedi," I said.

"Yes, but this time I will not neglect my duty as bondmate. Although our lives as Jedi may take us far apart from each other, I will make sure you remember until you are home again, that I belong to you."

End.