Series: Love Song Seres, #3. Follows "And I Moved" and "Early
Morning Dreams"...but it's not a song fic this time. Nope, not
at all, just got a little too weird for that.
Archive: m_a, my homepage only
(http://members.aol.com/amyaallen/sidewinder.html)
Summary: An afternoon of "meditation" gets a little out of
hand.
Rating: R
Warnings: I'm still in a terribly strange mood.
Category: my beta says it's far from a PWP, so I guess I'd call
it Drama, then.
Feedback: yes, please.
Disclaimer: the boys belong to George Lucas, alas.
Thanks: to Shari for reading it and telling me it actually made
sense :-) Remaining mistakes are my bad
Qui-Gon generally found the Temple gardens an ideal place for
meditation. The living Force was strong there, as it was in all
places where nature thrived, and on the city-planet of
Coruscant there were few nature reserves as large and well-
maintained as those at the Jedi Temple. The gardens were open
to the general populace to a limited extent, as the Council
felt such beauty deserved to be appreciated by as many as
possible. Even so, the lush grounds were large enough that
there were always quiet groves and corners to be found, away
from curious visitors and the well- traveled paths.
The particular location Qui-Gon had chosen this afternoon was
one of those places, a shady spot canopied by lush, tropical
vegetation. A stream trickled past nearby, gently washing over
smoothed stones and then hurrying on toward the waterfalls. The
running water and the occasional cries of birds were the only
sounds to be heard in this isolated place, which made it
perfect for quiet contemplation and meditation.
Or so he'd thought.
Qui-Gon was finding it oddly difficult to surrender his mind to
the Force today. A combat demonstration was scheduled for the
evening, and this period of mediation was necessary to prepare
for the demands of the performance. The demonstration was
primarily for the benefit of young students at the Academy, a
chance for them to observe the skills they were beginning to
learn, put into use by their elders. Dignitaries from several
worlds would be in attendance as well, including U'al--the
Oomari leader Qui-Gon and Obi- Wan had befriended on Grii
several weeks before. She was still uncertain as to whether her
people would forge a lasting relationship with the Jedi, but
she had expressed a great deal of interest in learning about
the fighting techniques taught at the Temple. The Oomari valued
such skills highly, considering their environment was filled
with natural predators--not to mention interlopers who often
tried to intrude upon the land they held sacred.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been asked to participate in the
demonstration--in fact, they were to be the final performers.
The request had not surprised Qui-Gon; he knew he was regarded
as one of the Jedi's most skilled duelists. And Obi- Wan, once
a gangly, somewhat clumsy youth, had long since left such
awkwardness behind and was becoming an equally elegant fighter,
albeit with a style uniquely his own.
Ah, Obi-Wan... Qui-Gon smiled lightly, realizing that
there lay his difficulty with relaxing today--with his padawan,
who was sitting just a short distance away. The Jedi Master
could sense that Obi-Wan's mind was focused on something
entirely different from meditation, and his thoughts and
emotions were strong enough that they were throwing off Qui-
Gon's state of mental balance.
Desire rippled between the bond they shared, strong and
insistent. "Obi-Wan, you must quiet your mind," Qui-Gon scolded
gently.
"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon felt the intensity of the desire lessen,
even as it was tagged with a slight mental sigh of regret.
Qui-Gon left it at that and tried again to begin his
meditations.
Adjustments. Changes.
They had to be expected now, the Jedi Master knew, and he would
have to be patient with Obi-Wan as they struggled to find
balance within the new parameters of their relationship.
Obi-Wan was young, still learning to control his emotions to
the degree required for a Jedi to stay strong to the Light Side
of the Force. Qui-Gon hoped he had been wise to allow them to
take this step forward, and that he was right in judging
Obi-Wan ready for it...
Right that he was ready for it, too.
Love between Jedi was a tricky thing--intense, encompassing
body, mind, and soul. When not true, when the lovers were not
truly compatible, the relationship often disintegrated quickly
and badly. Qui-Gon had experienced as much a few times in his
life... enough times to have made him careful, and to make him
understand why so many Jedi seemed to prefer the solitary life,
or the well- defined boundaries of a platonic master/padawan
relationship. There was also danger to be found in love, the
danger that came from passion, from the dark side of desire.
And that was certainly a danger he had to keep in his thoughts
at this early stage of their relationship, when things were at
their most fragile stage.
Qui-Gon took a deep, cleansing breath and let go of these
thoughts for now, and at last his mind began to drift into a
light meditative trance. He became increasingly in tune with
the living Force all around him, felt it start to ease away the
tension in his body and mind.
It was most disconcerting to him, then, when after a time an
image seeped into his mind, startling and demanding in its
eroticism. He was assaulted by a vision of himself and
Obi-Wan--naked, writhing in bed linens soaked with sweat,
bodies grinding together in a frenzied search for release...
"Obi-Wan..." he scolded again, a little more sharply than
before.
"I'm sorry, Master," the young man apologized, and the image
immediately faded away. "It seems my distraction got the better
of me again."
Qui-Gon sighed. "We must be clearly focused for tonight's
performance, Padawan. The S'hal-Da requires complete
concentration and harmony with the Force. We cannot afford
letting 'distractions' get the better of us. Not tonight, and
not in general."
"I understand. But don't you think, perhaps, we could try a
different kind of relaxation technique, one to more easily get
rid of these...distracting thoughts? Obviously meditation is
not working for either of us at the moment."
For a moment the thought was very tempting, but Qui-Gon pushed
it aside. He had to set the example of control for Obi-Wan, he
reminded himself. "Now is not the time."
"I beg to differ, Master," Obi-Wan shifted slightly closer to
Qui-Gon...close enough to reach up and trail his fingertips
lightly across his master's cheek. "Now seems like the perfect
time to me."
"No. Not now," Qui-Gon objected, trying to sound stern, even as
Obi-Wan's persistence and sensual touch aroused him as much as
it concerned him.
"Yes, now," the young man insisted, leaning close to his
master's ear. His warm breath tickled Qui- Gon's skin as
Obi-Wan nearly threatened, "Don't make me beg, when you know
you want this as much as I do."
"Obi-Wan--" he made the mistake of turning his head toward his
padawan, who took immediate advantage of the opportunity to
lunge at him for a kiss. A wave of raw, sexual hunger assaulted
his senses through the contact with his lover's lips, as
Obi-Wan's hands laid fast claim to his body. The elder Jedi
struggled to regain control of the situation and to resist the
compelling urge to deepen this kiss--and then to take his
padawan immediately, here in the public gardens.
"Do it, Master," Obi-Wan whispered roughly after he released
Qui-Gon's lips. His clear, light eyes dared his master to yield
to the idea as he pleaded, "Take me here, right now. I can't
wait for it until later."
"Listening in on my thoughts, are you?"
"You were broadcasting that one loud enough for every
Jedi in Temple to hear," Obi-Wan laughed.
"All the more reason we shouldn't." Qui-Gon pulled the younger
man against him, letting out a shuddering sigh against the
short-cropped hair tickling his nose. "Obi-Wan, I told you, we
should try to be cautious, and we have to learn to control
these feelings. This is not a good idea."
"Perhaps not, but you want to, don't you? You want to kiss me
again, right now. You want touch me, here...and here..."
Obi-Wan took his master's hand, slipped it down between the
young Jedi's thighs. Obi-Wan moaned softly at the touch of
those fingers against his groin. "Yes..."
"Obi-Wan..."
"Yes, Master?" the padawan answered, glancing up at Qui-Gon
with a look that was far from innocent. Oh, those eyes. Qui-Gon
felt his resistance wilting under their wicked sea-green gaze.
He could think of nothing more to say except to sigh in dismay,
"Imp."
All his response did was cause Obi-Wan to give him a devilish
smile and say, "Yes, so you keep calling me. If I am an imp,
then what are you to me, besides my master, of course? A
draigon, perhaps...one of the fire-breathing draigons of
Ancona."
"A draigon?"
"Yes, definitely a draigon. Because you are so beautiful, and
graceful...and deadly. Your fire could consume me entirely...or
I could ride you and soar to heights far above the heavens..."
Qui-Gon playfully pushed Obi-Wan to the ground, then pinned him
down under his larger body as he reprimanded, "You have
been reading far too much romantic poetry, my padawan."
"Poetry?! Are you joking?" Obi-Wan scoffed. "Cheap pornography
is more like it. Oh..." he trailed off, as Qui-Gon used the
Force to unfasten Obi-Wan's belt, and guide his pants down his
legs. All the while Qui-Gon's hands held Obi-Wan's above his
head, and he feasted on the smooth skin of his padawan's neck.
His tongue traced over the throbbing pulse of life just beneath
his flesh as Obi-Wan squirmed in delight.
"Let me undress you." Obi-Wan breathed harshly, struggling
against the iron grip on his hands.
"You can," Qui-Gon told him, tongue gliding up slowly to
Obi-Wan's ear. "Use the Force."
Obi-Wan groaned in protest. "Always a lesson...can't we do
this, just once, without turning it into a lesson?"
"The day you learn to behave yourself, my imp."
Another groan, and then he felt Obi-Wan struggling to reach out
with the Force, to ignore the distraction of Qui-Gon's tongue
in his ear. After a few failed attempts, Qui-Gon felt shadowy
hands trying to release the catch on his belt. It sprung open
at last, and he lifted his hips slightly to allow it to slip
free--
--and then he glanced up and saw the belt go soaring overhead,
a few seconds later crashing somewhere into the treetops on the
other side of the gardens. Several birds screeched loudly in
protest at the unexpected flying object intruding into their
nesting grounds.
"Oops..." Obi-Wan apologized, even as his devilish grin
returned. "Truly, I didn't mean to do that."
"Nevertheless, I shall remove my own pants, if you don't
mind. I don't wish to be running around bare-assed trying to
find them after you're finished with me." Obi-Wan seemed to
find the image terribly amusing and started laughing until
Qui-Gon silenced him with a kiss. "Obi-Wan, what am I going to
do with you?" he wondered aloud.
"Pound me senseless. Before I cause even more trouble."
Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan's wrists and sat up on his knees,
sliding his pants slowly down over his hips under his padawan's
unwavering gaze.
So beautiful, master. I love you so much. I want you so much
sometimes I can think of nothing else.
The power of Obi-Wan's emotions, so strong and unwavering,
touched Qui-Gon deeply even as they made him wonder what he had
done to deserve such devotion.
My padawan...precious one. He slid his hands under
Obi-Wan's tunic, leaning down to claim his lips once more.
Please, master, now...I can't stand it...
Qui-Gon pulled back and paused for a moment, searching out
their immediate surroundings and quickly finding what he was
looking for. The Oman plants bore fruit filled with a slippery,
somewhat slimy pulp. One of those would do. He reached with the
Force to pull a ripe fruit from a nearby plant, and squeezed it
as it fell into his hand.
"How very clever," Obi-Wan purred, licking his lips at the
sight of the glistening golden juice that was dripping down
Qui-Gon's wrist. Qui-Gon held out his slickened hand, letting
his lover lick some of the liquid from his fingertips. But then
he pulled back and squeezed more of the liquid onto his hand,
and ran his fingers against and then into Obi-Wan's ass.
The young man moaned and he arched up with delight.
"Please...please..."
Qui-Gon tormented him a little longer, making sure he was as
ready as his breathless claims. Then he pulled free and
squeezed the last of the fruit's juice onto his erection. He
lifted Obi-Wan's legs and found shelter between them, driving
into the warm and eager body of his beloved.
"Oh, master, oh yes...!" Obi-Wan's words came as a strangled
half-sob, half-triumphant cry. Whichever, it was certainly
loud. If anyone was in the nearby area besides the
birds, they were certainly about to get an earful.
Strangely, Qui-Gon found he didn't give a damn.
He didn't give a damn about anything at that moment except
surrendering his body to the rhythm of love, the ancient beat
that seemed to pound through the Force, through his connection
to his padawan. He was on the edge of losing himself to the
passion, dangerously close, and yet he held on, for his sake
and for Obi-Wan's, above all.
master oh I love you I love this don't stop don't stop never
never stop
never...
never never leave me promise me we'll always have this
promise me forever
forever Obi-Wan...forever...
The heat, of the delicious heat of this body...the fenzied
warmth of Obi-Wan's love pouring through their connection, the
flood of words and emotion and thought that left him dizzy,
yearning for more...
To lose oneself in this...so easy. So tempting...
master love you qui-gon master
Yes, he could feel it, he felt it in the fire of Obi- Wan's
body, his soul and spirit, the call to surrender himself to it
and forget everything else. But no, he wouldn't, he couldn't
give in to that desire. To do so would be to lead them both to
the Dark Side, into a dangerous place where obsession could
consume their love, leave it bitter and torn.
No...padawan, hold on to me, control--
"Master!" Obi-Wan cried out, the orgasm rushing through his
body even as Qui-Gon drew them away from that dark place,
dampening the fury of their shared release as best as he could
and pulling it to himself, away from Obi-Wan. He arched back as
it hit him hard, pain and pleasure, demanding, devastating...
Master... A worried voice, tinged with fear, enough to
pull him back and away from the edge. Emotionally and
physically drained, Qui-Gon slipped out of Obi-Wan's body and
fell to the ground, pulling his lover against him, needing his
warmth to chase away the chill that clung to him. Obi-Wan
trembled in his arms, and Qui-Gon knew he understood.
"Master, are you all right? I'm sorry, I..."
After several calming, deep breaths, Qui-Gon answered, "I'm
fine, Obi-Wan. And no apologies. A necessary lesson, for both
of us." He stroked his lover's hair, then lifted his chin in
his palm to look into Obi-Wan's eyes. "You're right, love, my
fire could consume you. As yours could consume me, if we
are not careful. Can you see that, now?"
Obi-Wan nodded his head. "It felt so good, I couldn't stop...I
just kept wanting more..." He shuddered and tightened his grip
on Qui-Gon. "What if I can't do this, Master? What if I'm not
strong enough?"
"You are. Do not doubt yourself. And I will not let you fall. I
won't."
After a few minutes of silence, Obi-Wan gave a shaky laugh and
said, "Well, so much for relaxing."
"Come." Qui-Gon sat up. "Let's go try to find my belt before
one of the Jinta birds decorates her nest with it. And then I
think another lesson in control is in order--though I'd prefer
that we conduct it somewhere more private than here."
His light tone helped convince Obi-Wan that no harm was done,
and the young Jedi smiled. "Yes, Master. I think that is a very
good idea, indeed."
The arena was dark--dark as night and just as silent. The final
performance was about to begin, and a hush had settled over the
audience as they awaited what they expected to be the highlight
of the evening.
Qui-Gon stood on one side of the battle stage, hand ready on
his lightsaber, mind clear, no anxiety clouding his thoughts.
He reached out and felt his padawan's presence across the stage
and sensed he was equally ready--even if slightly eager to
begin. Obi-Wan returned his master's call and tagged it with a
light caress.
Love you.
Always. Ready?
Yes.
Begin.
Two lightsabers hummed to life and cut through the darkness,
arching toward each other in mirrored swirls of light. They
struck, then circled and struck again, beginning the well-known
movements of the S'hal-Da. Extremely demanding for even a well-
trained Jedi, the S'hal-Da was more dance than battle, a work
of art created by the carefully choreographed movements of
their lightsabers. Their boots striking the ground and the hum
of their blades through the air was the music of the dance,
pulsing and rhythmic, almost hypnotic to the observer when
performed well.
Their S'hal-Da started with the traditional movements; they had
practiced them in endless training sessions and performed the
dance many times before. But tonight, they would truly make it
their own. Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan's question as they approached
the middle passage of the dance: Can we, Master?
Yes, Qui-Gon answered after only the briefest
hesitation, and he felt Obi-Wan's delight as the young man
somersaulted over his head and began the "modified" S'hal-Da
they had performed only in private until now. Qui-Gon knew
tonight they shared the synchronicity needed to carry off the
even more demanding movements they had developed in their
training exercises, ones that showcased their particular
personal strengths as fighters. The Jedi Master moved in fluid
strokes, spirals and elegant arcs that encircled the staccato
strikes and steps of his padawan. They moved across the floor,
then up into the air onto the raised platforms nearly invisible
in the darkness.
Qui-Gon sensed the ripples around them, the other Jedi noticing
the divergence from the traditional performance with various
degrees of shock and surprise. The younger students only
responded with enthusiastic chatter and applause until they
were shushed quiet, and Qui-Gon smiled to himself-- assuredly,
the teachers would have their hands full tomorrow as the young
ones tried to mimic what they saw tonight. Qui-Gon did not let
these thoughts distract him, however. He moved at the last
instant as Obi-Wan's blade cut downward through the air where
he'd been standing, and then they whirled together through the
final section of the S'hal-Da, at last returning to the
traditional movements to close. They drove at each other,
faster and faster, riding the Force and moving as one, no fear,
no hesitation, nothing but complete trust.
This afternoon had provided a valuable lesson to them both--a
reminder of what they had, all that they could lose if they
were not careful. They walked a fine line in following this
path, one that required as much trust and control as this
battle-dance if they were not to fall.
Their saber blades struck one final time, then held together in
a cross of light, and then they powered off their weapons,
letting the darkness fall over the room once again.
Slowly the audience seemed to recover their senses and began to
applaud, and the arena lights were raised to allow the two Jedi
to bow before the assembly and accept the acknowledgement of
their performance. Obi-Wan's elation was barely restrained, as
he sent waves of gratitude at his master for allowing them to
perform their personal "dance" this night. Qui-Gon shared in
his delight in that moment-- even as he sensed that not all in
the audience were pleased by what they had just seen.
There was a short reception after the performance but Qui-Gon
and Obi-Wan did not stay long; they were both too tired, and
eager to seek out some solitude and rest. Qui-Gon was unwinding
in their quarters with a cup of tea while Obi-Wan took first
turn in the 'fresher when he heard the door chime softly. He
rose to his feet as he called, "Enter."
Mace Windu stood in the doorway. Qui-Gon bowed slightly and
asked, "Master Windu, how might I help you?"
"I wished to offer my appreciation for your performance
tonight. It was perhaps the most...unique presentation of the
S'hal-Da I have seen. Our guests tonight commented most
positively on the skill demonstrated."
"Thank you, Master. I realize we diverged from the traditional
presentation."
"True. But I know following tradition has never been your
strong suit, Qui-Gon Jinn." Windu's eyes held upon Qui-Gon's as
he added, "Some worry that could still be your downfall.
Yours...and your padawan's."
Qui-Gon answered simply, "Mistakes made once will not be made
again."
"You are certain of that?"
"I am."
"We will hold you to that, then." The room fell silent for a
moment, and then Windu added, "May the Force be with you,"
before turning to leave.
Qui-Gon waited until the door closed to answer quietly, "Yes, I
hope that it is."
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