Your Memory Is My Refuge

by Master Yo-Gurt

ARCHIVE: M&A, SithChicks,QGJDL, all others please ask!

AUTHOR'S SITE: "Stolen Moments" at http://www.ravenswing.com/YoGurt

PAIRING: Qui/Mace

CATEGORY: POV, angst

RATING: PG

WARNINGS/SPOILERS: none

SUMMARY: It's the morning before the path of two lovers will divert drastically

DISCLAIMER: George created the Jedi, but he certainly didn't do much with them. My attempt to remedy his shortcomings will earn me not a cent.

FEEDBACK: By all means, please on-list or off at quigon_jinn21@hotmail.com

NOTES: Many thanks go to Jacynthe and Emila-Wan for an excellent beta, and to all of you whom I have bugged about this with my questions on AIM. The song that so perfectly fits in here is by Stephen Sondheim.

Part 1: *Qui-Gon*

Our last night before you'll follow your calling...

Stilling my thoughts I awake to a gentle breeze that blows through our room, rustling the curtains as if the Force itself played its hands through it. It's a very soothing sound, like the chime from the East Bell Towers, and with the splashing rain on the balcony it brings a subtle peace to my heart. You're lying next to me, on your stomach and half asleep, your legs entangled in the sheets that have long been pushed aside by our romp, and I sit against the head of the bed, admiring your still form.

The first rays of a new day bathe us in their hard, brilliant light so typical for a Coruscant morning. I love to watch as the light dances over your face, throwing shadows that accentuate your sleepy features as you doze next to me in the bed we share. We are alone here, in our own little world, away even from our apprentices who still slumber in their wing of the Temple. It is our refuge, far away from prying eyes and too-inquisitive Padawans, not to mention our fellow Masters.

The Brya flowers adorning the window of our small hideaway are in bloom right now. Their fragrance soaks into everything -- the sheets, my hair, and your soft skin.

I love how you taste right now. The combination of salt of your skin and sweetness of the Brya make for a very alluring sensation on my tongue as I reverently kiss your back.

We made love all night, like the young bucks we once were. I fleetingly see us again, in that garden, testing the depth of our passion for the first time more than ten years ago... Like then, we tested each other tonight. So busy we were -- as if this was the last time for us, love-struck fools that we are.

No -- you are no fool. They don't call fools to serve on the Council. I bend down to kiss your back again while you sleep off the effects of our latest bout of making love. We have been insatiable, haven't we? Always such a good team, giving and taking to pleasure each other out of our senses. I'm still tingling from being filled by you ...

My fingers gently trace your spine; your muscles twitch almost imperceptively at my touch. You have been ticklish for as long as I've known you: when we were Padawans, after we became Masters -- and since we became lovers all those years ago. The orange Brya petals that have blown in from the courtyard to settle on your sweaty skin make a striking contrast on your dark, glistening back. Their effect on you is lovely, but I prefer to admire your beauty unembellished, so I lightly brush them off. No need for adornments on you, not even those provided by nature.

You are mine, and I will have you as you are -- marked only by my passion, and love!

Yes, my love, don't play coy with me, I know you can sense my thoughts. And from the subtle shifts of your head I know that you smile into your pillow. I am intimately familiar with your every move, and that might be our undoing. But for the moment I push away that thought to concentrate on the here and now.

"More, Qui, please .... Hmmmm," you sigh as I bend down once more to savour your salty-sweet skin, and suddenly I am struck with fear, that this is it for us! No more times like these with you. I know better, of course we will have many more nights as lovers, sharing our passion. My hands tremble and I know you can feel my grief, my fear. I feel the tiny hairs on your skin rise in response when my touch becomes hesitant, unsteady.

"This is our last night together, as equals ... ?" I say hesitantly, wanting to say more -- why is it so hard? --, and I take a deep breath as my fingers reluctantly leave you.

"I think I never told you ... how much you mean to me, how much I love you. You know that?" Bending down I let my kisses dance like butterflies along your spine, emphasizing my words with my lips, affirming my love for you.

"Your new position will not make any difference to me, my love," I whisper defiantly ... a defiance I'm not used to when I talk to you. This is a night of lasts, and firsts it seems.

I know you hear me, so don't give me your infuriating silence. I'm tired of these uncertainties, but at last I simply rest my head onto the back of your shoulder, listening for your familiar heartbeat. A heart I felt beating by my side on countless missions; a heart I have protected from harm when danger was close and my mind almost forgot about duty to the Jedi, only to think about my duty to shield you from peril. To ensure I would continue hearing your heart beat for yet another day.

How I dread knowing you no longer will be on missions with me. Although I will have my Obi-Wan, a boy I fear will not be able to make up for the easy company, trust and comfort you so unerringly provided!

You sigh, slowly turning onto your side, your dark eyes seeking mine, devouring me -- holding me with a warmth I have known from no other. Your eyes say //Yes, I know your sadness, it is mine as well.// You reach up for a loose strand of my hair, pulling it to you, smelling it, tasting it, and in doing so you share with me the memory you're creating of this very moment. A memory I know will keep you warm when we cannot be together in the months and years to come.

Reverently you kiss my hair, saying "I know, Qui, and my love for you will not change, for nothing and no-one. Our times together will be shorter, yes. You will be on missions, I will be here. That is the will of the Force, it is our way." The only thing that seems to matter to you -- you embrace the Force so whole-heartedly, and it makes me jealous to think it might mean more to you than I do. Foolish thoughts of a jaded, old man, I chide myself.

"But we will stay together, Qui-Gon!" I can hear your certainty and want to make it my own, but it's so hard.

Your palm gently presses against my chest now and I can feel your strength, your love, your will to hold on to what we have, despite the odds. How strangely calm I am again, simply because of your touch. I love you, how much I love you!

"We will get through this, believe me ... trust in us," you say quietly. I want to believe, what else can you speak but truth. You pull me closer to you, resting your head against my chest, and my fears vanish, like fog burned away by the morning sun. Yet there is sadness when I hear your deep voice offering an apology. No apologies, my love, no guilt now!

"It wasn't my choice to be called; the Council insisted. Who can refuse when the Force calls you? I ... I couldn't say no, Qui!" Instinctively I wrap my arms around you; you are mine, not the damn Council's! But you simply turn to look at me with those large, ebony eyes everyone else finds so intimidating. I only see kindness in them, can read you like no other. It frightens me to see the real you -- a man who loves, and lives, without compromise, without hesitation; a side of you no-one else sees. It renders you vulnerable, giving me a weapon; a blade as sharp as the truth between us, that we call love.

"We will do what we must, ..." you say with a calm that I wish I could feel right now. And what if I must wield my newly-found weapon against you, to defy you and the Council?

"... but in the end-- I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn!"

How you know to sooth the turmoil of my heart, you wizard, you sorcerer. Unerringly your lips find mine, your tongue demanding to take what you know will be yours forever. And I surrender, giving myself up completely, until we're out of breath once more.

When you slowly pull back, I feel your fingers in my beard. I catch them with my mouth, kissing your fingertips. But the time for play is over.

"I need to get ready, Qui. Wait for me, my love!" you say and slowly free yourself of my embrace. Reluctantly, I let you go, my head sinking back onto my pillow, blindly staring at the ceiling, hardly able to see through the tears pooling in my eyes. How I curse the will of the Force, for the first time in my life. And for a second I even curse you for serving it, so much better than I ever will.

"Yes, of course, Mace," is the only thing I can say. In a few hours you will be called to take your seat with your new peers on the Council -- and I know I will defy you!

Part 2: *Mace*

Slowly I awake from a night of exertion -- exertion of the sweetest kind, with the man I love.

"More, Qui, please ... Hmmmm" I relish your touch, even after this last, busy night we've had. We should be so sore by now, I've lost count how many times I brought you off -- with my mouth, my whole body, and you did the same for me. Can you put a limitation on love? Of course not. My love for you, my Qui-Gon, is as strong and alive as when we first made love in one of the secret gardens of the Temple. No wonder I can't get enough of your hands and mouth on my back as I lazily lie next to you, smiling into my pillow, enjoying maybe the last carefree moments we'll have for a long time to come.

So many mornings waking up to your scent and your caresses. I've kept a memory of each one of them. Mornings you have shared the bed with me. The sun is brilliant today, making me squint, so bright are the rays of Coruscant's sun. How I wish this could be just another one in a long line of beautiful mornings we have together ...

Loving you is not a choice,
It's who I am ....

They have called me on the Council, and in a few hours I will take my new place. I look forward to this new challenge. The opportunities I'll have to shape the future -- for the Jedi, for the Republic! My decisions will change the face of the Jedi. I can feel it. Like Master Yoda foresaw it, these next few years will be crucial for the Jedi, for us, and I have been called to help decide what path we'll take. The Force has decided my path, and my heart is filled with it. How I wish I could share this joy with you, let you feel and understand the gratitude that fills me. But all I feel from you is fear -- irrational, cold fear!

Loving you is not a choice,
And not much reason to rejoice...

What are you afraid of, my love? You can't hide your turmoil from me. Your fingers tremble as they touch my skin, the hairs on my back rising in response to your unsure touch. I don't want you to be afraid, not now. I want you by my side. I need your strength, not your fears.

I need you, more than I ever needed you before in my life! Like you were there for me when my parents were killed in front of my eyes ... right here, on Coruscant. They wanted to spend the day with us in Green District. It was an accident. They wanted to see me after my trials. Who could have known that intoxicated Bothian would slam into our little group, killing them on the spot ...You were there for me then. I wouldn't have made it through my trials, or kept my sanity, without you ... You held me, wept with me, let me curse the Force without reprimand as my Master would have. You were there for me, without fail.

The Force has set a great responsibility on my shoulders, and I need you to help me carry it. Please, my love ...For me to stay sane, for a place to find peace when I know its demands will drive me insane.

To serve the Force is not easy, but it chose me, and I chose you!

But it gives me purpose, gives me voice
To say to the world:
This is why I live ...

You are why I live, as much as the Force will ever be, my Qui-Gon.

"I think I never told you ... how much you mean to me, how much I love you," you say as your hands try to steady themselves on my back...

No -- we are men of few words, you and I, the more precious they are to me now. I bathe in the sound of your voice ... "Be here and love me, Qui! " I want to scream so you'll hear, you fool, but I remain silent, quietly soaking up this gift of your love.

"Your new position will not make a difference," I hear you whisper. I know it will never change how I feel about you. If only I could reassure you that it will be so, that everything will remain the same.

But now all I need is your love, so give me what I so strongly desire! All I want is your affection, your caresses, your lips on my back ... so good! It's hard for me to hold still and not to roll over and onto you, filling you once more with my love after your mouth would have driven me half crazy ...

But there it is again, your hesitation. You are angry with me ...

Loving you is why I do the things I do ...

The truth is -- I am afraid, my Qui-Gon! Afraid of leaving your side, no longer being able to shield you from harm that might come your way. Afraid that you won't follow me, that you won't understand the calling of the Force that means so much to me. Afraid that my place by your side will be taken by someone else -- your Padawan. But can he protect you as I can, unselfishly and without thought of personal danger? Will he be able to sooth your darkest thoughts?

Loving you is not in my control ...

He has grown, your young, innocent Obi-Wan; and he loves you! But I love you more, and I sigh, turning towards you, seeing how much your worries have taken hold on you. No, please, my Qui-Gon, please be still. Be there for me as I will be for you!

My hand reaches for you, I take a bit of your loose hair, nibbling it. It's like an aphrodisiac, inflaming me further. I want to take you, hard. Want to make you scream, if there only wasn't that sadness in your eyes.

As I kiss your hair and put my hand against your chest, I can feel you still your thoughts.

"We will get through this, believe me ... trust in us!" I say this like a mantra to pull you through this abyss of yours. I won't let you fight this battle alone; I am here and will do whatever it takes to keep you by my side. "TRUST ME," I send along our bond, and you become still once more. But I cannot quell that sadness between us.

"It wasn't my choice to be called, the Council insisted ... who can refuse a call by the Force? I couldn't say no, Qui!" You hear, but you don't understand and like a frightened child you close your arms around me, daring me to flee your embrace.

Be there for me now, Qui-Gon! Why can't you help me with this as I did for you, nursing you back to sanity during your darkest hour, when betrayal of your love almost cost you your life and position in the Order? I need you now, can't you see that? You fight the will of the Force as I have not seen you do before, but I won't let you despair. I can't. Why do I always have to be the stronger one?

But loving you I have a goal of what's left of my life ...

I look into your eyes, your incredibly blue eyes - 'soul traitors', Yoda's people call them, and now I see why. I see your misgivings ... oh my Qui, just love me on this, our last morning as simple men!

Another sigh. As much as I would love to ravish you, this morning has lost its innocent beginnings and I have to get ready for my appearance in front of my new peers.

"We will do what we must, but in the end-- " I opt for the truth and the simplest way out, the only way I know how to put you, and me, at ease again.

"I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn!"

I will live, and I would die for you!

It is the truth and it feels so good to say these words aloud. I love you, my Qui, and we will have each other till we join the Force. My fingers run through your beard, so soft, and it tickles when you catch them with your mouth, kissing each one, your tongue running over my fingertips.

With great reluctance I draw away, I have to get ready ... don't give me that lost, forlorn look, Qui-Gon! Damn, why are you making this so hard for us!

All that is left for me is to run into the fresher, like a fugitive running from a mortal enemy. Oh Force, how could we ever be enemies, you and I? Never, my Qui-Gon, I won't let that happen.

I hastily close the door to the bedroom, sinking down onto the rim of the bathtub, fighting down my tears. No tears now.

Instead, your tears become mine.

Loving you is not a choice,
It's who I am.
Loving you is not a choice,
And not much reason to rejoice.
But it gives me purpose, gives me voice
To say to the world:
This is why I live.
You are why I live.

Loving you is why I do the things I do.
Loving you is not in my control.
But loving you, I have a goal
For what's left of my life.
I will live, and I would die for you!
(Stephen Sondheim, Passion 1994)

The End