Dances with Peacocks

by Lyta Alexander (pinkpadawan@yahoo.com)



Rating: NC-17

Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan must mold themselves to the customs of a most unusual culture for a formal event on Coruscant.

Warnings: Gets a bit rough...

Archive: Sure, I have no shame! M/A only for now. Email me if you want it for another site. I'm easy!

Notes: This is a (belated, as always with me) response to Mac's first-line challenge, and the bunny became very insistent when it found out I was working on something long and complicated. Those bunnies always have to break my train of thought at the worst times! I hope you enjoy my little piece of weirdness!



" Obi-Wan, no one is going to believe that we're lovers! " Qui-Gon almost whined as he donned the second silky, deep red stocking which would encase his long, hairless legs.

Obi-Wan barely suppressed a grin. "No one on Coruscant will, but to the TamiFayze, we'll look like the incarnation of the sex gods that we are, right Master?" A tightly controlled wry look fell over the Padawan's features. "Tell me again why we have to do this, because I'm not convinced to the extent I will need to be in order to don 12 layers of striped fur and do a little dance with my whore of a Master..."

Qui-Gon's expression did not reflect appreciation of the humor that Obi-Wan's statement was intended to convey. He glared through thickly kohl-rimmed eyes, as he carefully applied three circles of green glitter makeup on each cheek. "Padawan, you do realize that the TamiFayze are important candidates for Senate membership from the planet Miskara, and that this event will show them just how much or little respect the Jedi and Coruscant as a whole has for them. And you realize that if we do not dress in this way for the ritual dance, the TamiFayze will believe that we are not mated, and will be well within their rights to claim us individually for their sexual use on the night of the banquet. "

Obi-Wan puzzled a bit. "But, Master, we ARE mated! Why do we have to put on the show?"

"Because, my pretty Padawan, the TamiFayze, despite their cosmopolitan front, are decidedly prejudiced against the practices of other planetary cultures or orders and have insisted that this event be held with all in attendance dressed in the Miskaran style. " As he spoke, Qui-Gon carefully applied a daub of glue over his eyebrows to which he affixed several wispy pink feathers.

"Besides, Obi-Wan, don't you want to see Yoda in a slinky purple dress?" Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled with what wry humor he could manage. His lips curled up involuntarily as he watched the full-fledged grin break out on Obi-Wan's face.

"I suppose that could be something amusing to tell my own Padawan years down the road. But will it be enough to overshadow your breathtaking ensemble, Master?" Obi-Wan held up a hangar containing a long satiny red sheath dress that was to hold his Master's sequoia-like body.

"Give me that, Padawan. You need to be getting prepared yourself, don't you?" Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows as he hefted what appeared to be a large ball of fur from the bed and tossed it into his padawan's center of mass, actually driving the younger man back several paces.

Obi-Wan glared at his master and dropped the mass of fur. It fell in waves around him as the individual layers resolved themselves. The young man began to wiggle out of his Jedi tunics, as he watched his master wiggling into the tight red dress.




Two hours later:

Qui-Gon gingerly extended his carefully manicured hand to the waddling ball of fur who escorted him. The Jedi Master resembled nothing so much as an expensive lower level Coruscant whore to the furtive gazes of the padawans and knights who peopled the corridors of the Temple.

Obi-Wan was a stark contrast to his master. He wore no adornments, save for the layer upon layer of striped furs which were so bulky that the padawan could not lower his arms. "Master, I feel like a bloated flarnberry! This is utterly humiliating, even for diplomatic work."

"Think of it as a lesson, Padawan. Concentrate on pulling the Force in around you so you pass unnoticed through the crowd. " Qui-Gon inadvertently batted his glitter-bedecked eyelashes at Obi-Wan, who groaned and started forward again, his mouth deliberately held slightly open so that he would not clench his teeth.

The gala ballroom was a short ride from the Temple in reality, but in bright red spike heels and a four foot tall feathered headdress, the trip took several eternities. Qui-Gon breathed slowly and deliberately, not only to shut out the rude thoughts and stares of the younger Jedi and passersby, but also to keep the headdress from skewing itself on his head as it lightly brushed the ceilings in the residential parts of the Temple.

Finally, they reached their transport on the East Platform. It was a very large cab, twice the size of the others which swirled thickly around the landing pad. Must be for the headdress Qui-Gon thought. It needs a cab of its own, I think.

He balanced himself and strode into the regally large cab, and his padawan waddled in after him. Both sat heavily in the plush seats and let out twins breaths of relief.


The TamiFayze were an odd species, sharing much in common physiologically with the insects of the Core Worlds. The females were much larger than the males of the species, and more dominant in affect. Average women of the TamiFayze were around two standard meters tall.

The men were small, grayish creatures, averaging only one-and-a-half meters. They tended to puff themselves up by killing large furry creatures and draping the furs around them in layers. The males often ended up looking like literal balls of fur, if they were ostentatious enough.

When Master Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn and his padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi debarked from their transport, they felt as if they had stepped onto another planet, when in fact they had only traveled about a kilometer. The Senate's ballroom foyer was unrecognizable. Every square centimeter was covered in bright red feathers which matched those on Qui-Gon's head.

The beings milling about here were dressed similarly to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, except slightly less ostentatiously. The two mated Jedi were the main attraction it seemed. A large hooded furball approached them.

"Qui-Gon! Glad you could make it, and what a stunning sight, I might add!" Mace Windu wore only three or four fur robes, a token show for the TamiFayze. None of the other Jedi present were dressed anything like Qui-Gon. It appeared that Qui-Gon was the peacock among the pigeons at this gathering.

"Hello, Mace. You know, Mace, we were given a wide latitude on this dance thing. No one really told us what exactly it entailed, except that it must incorporate both of us in an interactive way. " Qui-Gon peered down at the furry bald Jedi Master. Mace merely nodded.

"Obi-Wan and I chose a slow kata from the empty hand repertoire. It's more like grappling, but with effort we could add some graceful rolls or something like that. However, the costumes will pose a slight problem. They are unwieldy, and I am afraid our dance will be made to look slightly, uh, inelegant as a result."

Mace looked Qui-Gon in the eye and quietly began," The TamiFayze do not expect grace; they expect to see a show not unlike that put on by the strippers in sleazy Coruscant bars. At least that's what the translator has told me. You and your Padawan will play out a mating scene ritual to the TamiFayze.

"Qui-Gon, you will, uh, preen a bit and show off your charms to the assembled dignitaries, and Obi-Wan will perform a series of dances to attract your attention and win your favor. If he has your favor, you will remove an article of clothing and Obi-Wan will remove a layer of fur. The object, at least on Miskara, is for the male to have fast furious sex with the female while she is distracted with his dance. Then the male retreats before the female strikes at him and kills him. At least this is the model we were given. I'm sorry we didn't get this information sooner." Mace looked from the flamboyant master to the fuzzy padawan, locking eyes with each.

"I'm sure you are both up to the challenge." With a hint of a smile, Mace turned and strode toward the ballroom entrance. By that time, the various brightly colored females had already entered, and the furry males trickled in around the receding Jedi Master. Mace faded into the mass of pelted figures.

Qui-Gon turned sharply to his Padawan and laid his hands on the younger man's round fur-enhanced shoulders. "Obi-Wan, I think we'll use the simple Gyreachean kata for ease of movement. There are ten of them, and that will be enough to appease them, I think."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth and scowled at his master. "So, do we have to mate in front of them? I don't think I can do that with the whole Jedi Council and many dignified members of the Senate watching!"

Obi-Wan's face was turning pink, slowly darkening to match the shade of Qui-Gon's feathers.

"I don't know, Obi-Wan. But we had better find out, and soon." The two made their way into a side entrance, where they would wait until they were called for their performance. The room was darkened and quiet. They could hear everything happening in the main ballroom.

It was mainly speeches, but they were punctuated by wailing sounds, almost like a particularly pathetic creature's cries of anguish. Both Jedi wore frowns of utter bewilderment.

"That is a ritual affirmation, in case you are wondering." A small gray figure emerged from the shadowed walls of the room. Neither Jedi had sensed him. He must have been well-shielded. His garb was similar to Obi-Wan's, except much less bulky.

"I am Bakir, your familiarizer, or how do you say...coach. You will perform according to what I tell you. This is a very delicate ritual, and it dates back to the times when our people lived separately, men among men and women among women. This dance symbolizes for us the joining of our race, its completion. Therefore, you start apart and finish together."

Qui-Gon stared down at the gray figure, who continued. "You know of the shedding of your garments according to the stages of arousal between male and female. You are mates, so the joining will be natural for you. After you have mated, the TamiFayze in attendance will cry ritually and grab an available mate to personalize the ritual for each of them. Do you understand?

"Since you are a mated pair, you will not be separated, but you must mate to end the dance."

Obi-Wan's mouth gaped open in undisguised astonishment. His wide eyes met his master's and he could do nothing but gasp in disbelief. Qui-Gon met his padawan's eyes, but the look was much different. It was serenity in the face of high weirdness; Qui-Gon seemed to take it in stride.

"Well, Obi-Wan, can you do in public what you do in private? After all, it is in the name of good diplomacy." Qui-Gon winked at his red-faced padawan, who merely stood with his jaw hanging open.

"Don't think about THEM. Focus only on me. Do the Gyreachean kata, and shed those furs and focus on our bond. It is an exercise, if you will."

The TamiFayze gestured to a small goblet sitting on the table beside him. "Young Jedi, you must drink this ritual wine before you begin your ritual hunt. It is part of the ceremony, you know."

Obi-Wan approached the table, lifted the glass and studied it. He smelled it, dipped his finger in it, did everything except drink it.

" I think you'll have to drink it, Padawan, so stop playing with it. Mace told me about the ritual wine. It's just wine, Obi-Wan. You've had wine before, right?" Qui-Gon winked again at his padawan, who sniffed the glass one last time before downing it.

The two Jedi begged privacy of the small TamiFayze male and prepared themselves.




A tall female stood alone in the middle of the ballroom. A single spotlight played at the voluminous feathers she wore atop her head. Thick kohl ran down her pale face as she cried the ritual of Miskara. Then with a deft wave of her hand and expansive pirouette, she called the two Jedi onto the floor.

The spotlight left her and caught a long gliding figure striding from the side of the ballroom. Qui-Gon walked with deliberate slink; his hips thrust forward as waves on the ocean, fading and reasserting themselves as he approached center stage. There, he stood motionless, his face serene, his eyes focused on nothing. He was the picture of quiet grace.

After a short interval, during which much quiet sobbing ensued from the male half of the room, a considerably shorter, more clumsy figure made its way into the center of the room. Obi-Wan took small steps, circling the impassive Qui-Gon, beginning a stretching kata. The furs made the movement difficult and Obi-Wan barely succeeded in making the moves appear in any way like a dance.

One ten centimeter high heel shoe flew into the air, kicked out in perfect still grace by the imperious Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master was actually sticking his nose in the air, pointedly disdaining the awkward furball which now began a series of slow rolls and stances after shedding one bulky layer.

Qui-Gon stood hip-shot, one foot quite a bit lower than the other, his hands on his hips, lips pursed, evaluating the steadily moving furry creature which danced around him so charmingly.

After Obi-Wan had shed six more layers of fur robe, the kata began to look more like the martial arts they were. He flipped in a graceful Force-assisted arc over Qui-Gon's headdress, which was one of the few things the older Jedi still wore. The kohl eyeliner smudged around his eyes, which smoked with the fire in his body. There were no dignitaries in Qui-Gon's view, only his beautiful dancing padawan.

Obi-Wan's body shone with a sheen of perspiration. The final fur robe was flung from his shoulders, and he was on Qui-Gon in an instant. The headdress flew unceremoniously off the Jedi Master's head and into the crowd of TamiFayze, who gasped and cried with the beautiful savagery of it.

Obi-Wan mauled Qui-Gon, advancing out of the dance and into a quick predatory attack. Qui-Gon fell hard onto the velvet floor, taken down suddenly. The sweat poured off Obi-Wan, although he was now completely naked. He stretched his master beneath him and pressed himself down on top of him, pushing into his flesh, devouring his master's mouth desperately.

Qui-Gon did not move; he surrendered control to his padawan, who now roughly disengaged and stood. Qui-Gon lay stretched on the floor, his rock hard penis the tallest thing about him now. Obi-Wan straddled him, casting a ferocious gaze downward at his prey. Quick as the Force, Obi-Wan turned his master and sat upon him, thrusting his sweat-lubricated fingers into Qui-Gon's ass, leaning closer in with every push.

Obi-Wan breathed hard and fast; he was lost in the rage of claiming. He fell upon Qui-Gon, grasping his hips and pulling the older Jedi around his painfully hard penis.

Qui-Gon jerked roughly up from the floor and cried out, losing the calm facade that had been with him. His gasps rose in intensity, matching those of his passion-maddened padawan. His own penis was ground into the velvet floor; the sensation was at once painful and unbearably wonderful.

Above him, Obi-Wan fell in and out of him, mindlessly thrusting, his eyes shut, his mouth open to admit the air he craved. Involuntary spasms began to mix with his savage shouts as Obi-Wan neared his release.

A bubble burst inside Obi-Wan and his blood-engorged member expanded within Qui-Gon. A sudden burst of electricity hit Qui-Gon's prostate and radiated back into his crazed padawan. Qui-Gon screamed with unrestrainable pleasure, drowning out the now-spent Obi-Wan, who collapsed across his back, shaking and gasping.

The two Jedi lay in a puddle in the center of the ballroom, motionless except for a gentle heave of their shoulders as they caught their breaths. About three seconds later, the silence was shattered by hundreds of screaming and crying TamiFayze, echoing their lust and passion throughout the hall. The kohl ran thick and fast as chaos ensued. The males set upon the females all at once. The Senators and Jedi Councilmembers who were witness to this wisely pulled back into the corners of the large room.

Mace Windu broke away and shook the pair of passion-besotted Jedi who still lay in the middle of the room, in danger of being trampled by the rutting TamiFayze. He peeled Obi-Wan off of Qui-Gon and wrapped one of many fur robes around him. He then did the same for Qui-Gon, and they quickly but unsteadily made their exit.