Category: Vampire drama. AU. Seventh in a series of unknown
length.
Feedback: Is the rich red blood of life.
Thanks to Destina Fortunato for the awesome beta.
Summary: A question is asked; an answer is received.
Spoilers: None.
Apologies: For taking so long between this segment and the
last. Real life and other plot bunnies sidetracked me. I do
have a general plan for this series and I will complete it!
There are definitely scenes in my head I still want to share.
:)
Dedicated to: The Emu and Lynn (Brmmrmanor), because they asked
for it and gave me the kick start I needed.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas, vampire legends to
the world.
Qui-Gon rested on the bed, his head propped on one arm,
watching Obi-Wan sleep. At the Academy, bright daylight would
have been shining through the windows at this time of the
morning. Here, with the planet's tilt in relation to its sun
lengthening the nights, it was blissfully dark. Only a spectral
glow from the moon and stars illuminated the room.
Despite the lack of light, Qui-Gon could see the pale features
of his apprentice as he slumbered peacefully. His improved
night vision, one facet of his demonic transformation. He
stroked his fingers through Obi-Wan's short hair, gently enough
not to wake his Padawan.
Handsome, devoted Padawan. Creature of light. Steadfastly true
companion. The Padawan who only yesterday willingly donated his
healing energy and blood to save his Master's life. The Padawan
he'd almost drained last night in a fit of possessive rage.
He stared at his own hand, the fingernails once again long. No
longer the rebellious but serene Jedi Master. Creature of dark.
Creature of sharp fangs and pointed nails. Creature of insane
urges and wild moods. Meditation helped, but not enough. Even
the serenity of the Force wasn't enough to control the beast
inside, the beast who attacked when threatened. He'd killed
without compunction to protect his Padawan and acknowledged
with despair that he would kill again if forced.
More and more, Qui-Gon found himself meditating on Obi-Wan,
using his Padawan's loyalty as an anchor. Focusing on the soul
who would risk everything to save his own. He found peace in
the sanctity of such devotion.
A rapping on the hotel door disturbed his musing. Qui-Gon was
off the bed, his cloak covering his naked body, opening the
door before the sound could disturb Obi-Wan's sleep. His mother
stood in the hallway, Fra-Zon leaning against the wall behind
her.
"Mother." The greeting was formal as Qui-Gon stepped into the
hallway, shutting the door behind him.
"Qui-Gon." She was clad in a leaf-green dress, her hair still
dark and long, the wrinkles betraying her age seemingly more
pronounced this morning. Her hands were clasped together in
front, twisting with anxiety. "I had hoped we could talk more.
There is still so much I wish to know about your life."
"Obi-Wan is sleeping." Qui-Gon hesitated, wishing to send her
and his brother away, but knowing that their conversations
yesterday were too brief. "Let me dress and we can go
somewhere."
Sei-Lona was surprised and concerned. "He's still sleeping? Is
he all right?"
The door opened behind him. Obi-Wan peered out, bleary-eyed and
tousled, only his leggings covering his body, arms wrapped
around his own chest as if to protect himself from a chill in
the temperature-controlled hotel. "Master?"
A shocked gasp from Sei-Lona, as she noted the newly enlarged
puncture wounds and the faint trace of blood on his throat.
"You didn't drink from him?"
"Mother, this isn't your concern."
"You should at least clean the wound," Sei-Lona fussed, moving
around Qui-Gon's tall body to take Obi-Wan by the arm, guiding
him back into the room and toward the sink in the fresher.
Obi-Wan shot Qui-Gon a questioning glance as he was guided
away, verifying that the other Jedi accepted his mother's
interference. Sighing, Qui-Gon allowed Sei-Lona to take charge
of his apprentice, strolling over to gaze out the window.
Fra-Zon came to stand beside him, chuckling.
"This amuses you?" The dryness of his question signified that
Qui-Gon didn't share the humor.
"You're learning what it's like to have a mother."
"I was raised by the Knights and Masters at the Academy. I am
not unfamiliar with parental concern," was the curt retort.
"Several Knights caring for many children, those children all
of the same age, being cared for new Knights every few years as
they advance in their studies...it's not the same as having one
set of parents." Dressed in a severely simple dark brown jacket
and trousers, a glimpse of a white shirt appearing between the
jacket's lapels, Fra-Zon turned to rest his shoulders against
the window.
Qui-Gon was surprised by his knowledge. The childhood raising
and training practices of the Jedi weren't secret, but few
citizens of the Republic bothered to explore the Order's
practical details. "You've studied the Jedi."
The smile he received was bittersweet, one corner of Fra-Zon's
mouth crooking upwards. "Yes. I used to wonder about you. What
it was like for you, being a Jedi. What it would be like if we
met. I made up these fantasies in my mind. You'd be this wise,
older brother. You would instinctively understand me. We would
instantly bond and become great friends. I had a dozen
different daydreams. Sometimes you would search me out or I'd
go to Coruscant and knock on the door of the Jedi Academy.
Sometimes we would meet by accident."
Qui-Gon stared out the window, surprised at the revelation of
this self-assured man as a lonely little boy. He had assumed
his brother was ambitious and determined, given the success of
Jinn Enterprises, but not vulnerable. Dawn was finally
beginning to break, a soft stream of light creeping around the
buildings. "I didn't realize. Family..." he paused to rephrase,
"Jedi are not trained to think of our families."
"I learned that from my reading. It hurt, to know you probably
never thought of me. Were trained to not even wonder. But it
didn't stop me from wanting to meet you. I imagined you would
be the Jedi to break the mold. You would the one Jedi who would
insist on meeting his family."
Internally, Qui-Gon flinched. 'Rebel' was a label placed
frequently on him, but he'd never even thought to question the
Council's dictates on family. Masking his discomfort, he said
only, "I find this honesty unusual after your actions
yesterday." Qui-Gon could hear the faint lilt of his mother's
voice in the background and Obi-Wan's muted replies. His mother
was fussing. Odd thought, to have a mother fussing. The Knights
and Masters were concerned and caring, but independence and
self-reliance were instilled in the Jedi from an early age. The
image of one of his teachers fretting over any student aside
from the very youngest children was incomprehensible.
"I want you to understand. I do hope we may be friends, but I
have to protect Mother first. She's been my responsibility
since Father died. You may be a danger to her now." The
momentary vulnerability was gone, the persona of the successful
businessman firmly in place. Fra-Zon had made his choice when
he'd lied to hide Sei-Lona's location. Childish dreams were
relegated to the past.
The voices were replaced by the steady drone of water running.
Sei-Lona stepped into the room, stopping Qui-Gon's reply. "He
needs to eat. He's very weak."
"Breakfast then. I think a restaurant rather than room service,
if Obi-Wan is strong enough." Fra-Zon cast a wry glance at the
disheveled furnishings, drawing attention to the mayhem of
broken furniture left from Qui-Gon's rage.
Qui-Gon flushed as his Mother's eyes followed Fra-Zon's. "I
must arrange passage off-planet. I shall meet you later."
"Let me take you." At Qui-Gon's surprised glance, Fra-Zon
added, "I have a ship. It's nicer than any berth on a transport
you'll be able to purchase. Mother would like to spend more
time with you. Wouldn't you Mother?"
Her hands lifted toward Qui-Gon in a mute plea. "Please,
Qui-Gon."
Torn between the uncomfortable desire to escape the conflicting
feelings his family engendered and the realization that his
Mother may possess more information on the demons of Valon,
Qui-Gon equivocated, "I must talk to Obi-Wan. We hadn't
definitely decided whether to return to Coruscant or risk Valon
again."
"Then you couldn't arrange passage off-planet anyway, could
you? We can all talk over breakfast. Mother and I will wait in
the lobby." Taking his assent for granted, Fra-Zon placed one
hand on their mother's elbow and escorted her from the room as
she gave Qui-Gon a last, beseeching look.
Qui-Gon let them leave without contradicting Fra-Zon. Lifting a
chair that had been laying on its side, he carried it to the
corner of the room and sat down, away from the window and the
emerging sun. He could tolerate the light but preferred to
avoid it. He understood Sei-Lona. She'd never wanted to give
her first-born to the Jedi; that was his Father's decision. She
was desperate to connect with her oldest son, despite his
savage state. He could only guess Fra-Zon's willingness to
offer transport originated from a need to fulfill Sei-Lona's
wishes while keeping her protected. He was too weary to decide
what to do now. Valon or Coruscant. With his family or without.
Instead of deciding, he would sit and wait.
He would wait for Obi-Wan to shower and dress. He would wait
for his light.
Fra-Zon's promise was accurate; his ship was better than any
berth on a purchased transport. Designed for his personal use,
the ship was small and fast, the crew efficient and respectful.
From the luxuriousness of the furnishings, the Jedi presumed
that Fra-Zon met occasionally on board with potential clients,
impressing them with the discreet elegance and obvious wealth.
Coruscant had been the final decision during breakfast, Obi-Wan
arguing passionately that the Jedi healers should hear
Sei-Lona's information. The trip to Coruscant had proved more
pleasant than Qui-Gon anticipated. He alternated his time
between meditation and long conversations with his Mother. On
the evening of the second day, Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan in their
stateroom, sipping a glass of the moonberry wine, staring out
the porthole. The bottle and another glass sat on the table.
"Master."
"Obi-Wan, Mother said that you wished to eat in our room
tonight." Qui-Gon glanced around their quarters, noting only
the wine.
"I ate earlier, Master. You had a good conversation with your
mother?"
"Yes. You were correct to insist we should travel with Sei-Lona
and Fra-Zon. I am more and more convinced that my
transformation was deliberately triggered. Her information on
the demons simply doesn't correspond with my experience. Or
with Fra-Zon's."
"It's good to know that my instincts are sound."
"I taught you too well in the art of persuasion." He traced one
finger down the smooth line of Obi-Wan's jaw.
"I wanted to be alone tonight because I have something to
discuss with you. I can only hope I will be as persuasive a
second time."
Obi-Wan's nervousness was well disguised, but Qui-Gon could see
the revealing signs. Fingers clenched a little too hard on the
stem of his glass, the faint worry in his eyes. "You know you
can discuss anything with me, Padawan."
Setting the glass down, Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's hands into his
own. "I would like to soul-bond with you, Qui-Gon." He gripped
harder at Qui-Gon's reflexive action to separate their hands.
"Listen to me. I have given this matter a great deal of
thought."
"No amount of thinking can overcome the fact that you are too
young and I am too dangerous, Obi-Wan. I have been selfish
enough with your devotion and love."
Sighing, Obi-Wan brought Qui-Gon's hands to his lips, kissing
the knuckles. The Padawan had anticipated this reaction. He had
to hope logical arguments would overcome Qui-Gon's objections.
"Master, from what your mother says, your transformation is
physically complete. It is only the strength of your mind that
has saved you from madness." Obi-Wan's words were blunt. The
time for dancing around the truth was past. "The strength of
your obsession for me."
Qui-Gon was unnaturally calm. "And you believe a soul-bond
would help this obsession."
"Yes. You would no longer wonder what I thought. You would no
longer doubt my love. You would never have to fear another's
interest in me."
"A soul-bond may not even work, Obi-Wan. The partners must be
perfectly compatible."
Obi-Wan kissed the palms of Qui-Gon's hands. "Not to be vain,
Master, but we are one of the best Master/Padawan teams the
Jedi have seen in decades. We have demonstrated our
compatibility and effectiveness for many years. And as
lovers...as lovers, I cannot believe that anyone else has ever
experienced the heights of ecstasy that we achieve." Obi-Wan's
eyes blazed with past memories of the primal sensuality they
shared.
"Obi-Wan - " The Padawan could see both the desire and the
denial in Qui-Gon's eyes. He was going to reject the
suggestion.
Obi-Wan pressed his fingers gently on Qui-Gon's lips to stop
the words. "No, Master, don't refuse. Not yet. Think about it.
I've never told you how I felt, when I woke on Valon, tied up,
stretched out on a table." Obi-Wan laid down on the table in
their quarters, as if duplicating the experience. The table was
only long enough to fit his body and head. His legs dangled off
the edge and he propped one boot on a chair to balance himself.
"I tried not to be, but I was frightened. Disoriented from an
unknown drug. Then you were there. My Master, whom I have
trusted and loved for so long. But your eyes were wild,
maddened with passion and lust."
One of Qui-Gon's hands drifted down Obi-Wan's body. "You were
so scared, yet so beautiful. A sacrifice to the mad craving
that was overwhelming me."
"If we soul-bonded, I wouldn't have to tell how I felt. You
could just remember." His voice was soft and low, drawing
Qui-Gon into the erotic web he was weaving.
Qui-Gon began loosening Obi-Wan's clothes, his tunics and belt
falling open to hang over the table. The neckband which hid the
fang marks on Obi-Wan's strong throat was removed, reverently
placed on a chair. He stood between the parted legs, pulling
off his boots. "But then you could also remember how I felt,
how inappropriate my yearnings were. Lusting after my own
apprentice, a man I should be protecting..."
The words trailed off as Obi-Wan took advantage of Qui-Gon's
position to arch his hips, rubbing their groins together.
"Nothing is inappropriate between us, Master." Obi-Wan locked
his legs around Qui-Gon's hips and the two thrust gently in
unison. Their breath hissed out, eyes bound together by an
invisible thread of shared longing.
Obi-Wan slid his leggings down his hips and thighs, pushing the
fabric into Qui-Gon's hands. Qui-Gon obeyed the silent command,
breaking away from Obi-Wan to pull the fabric the rest of the
way off.
"Master, pour the wine on me. Drink from my body."
With trembling hands, Qui-Gon reached for the bottle. Clasping
the neck, he hesitated and spoke, "Do you think you can seduce
me into taking advantage of you? I won't soul-bond with you."
"Pour the wine, Master. Taste my skin and the sweet taste of
grapes." Obi-Wan leaned forward, burying his hands in Qui-Gon's
hair, holding his head steady while kissing him, long and hard.
He whispered into Qui-Gon's ear, "I can only imagine what the
taste of myself is like, if I taste as good as you do. If we
soul-bonded, I would know. And you would know how much pleasure
I receive from your touch." Obi-Wan released his hair, relaxing
back on the table, waiting for Qui-Gon's reaction.
Shakily, Qui-Gon poured the wine, the scarlet liquid coating
the white skin of Obi-Wan's chest, flowing off his skin to soak
into the tunics. Qui-Gon licked at the wine, beginning with the
small pool collected in the hollow of his throat. "Wine, warmed
by your skin," he murmured. He paid special care to the beads
on Obi-Wan's nipples, laving the hard brown points until
Obi-Wan was whimpering with unabashed delight.
He worked his way down Obi-Wan's flat, hard chest, tasting the
flavor of moonberries grown during the darkness of the night.
He replenished Obi-Wan's abdomen with another draught of wine.
The layers of tunics became drenched with red fluid. Obi-Wan
kept his body flat on the table, his hands above his head,
bound by invisible manacles. He propped one foot against
Qui-Gon's broad shoulder, and his Master turned his head to
nuzzle the anklebone and high arch. Obi-Wan's toes flexed
spasmodically, expressing the pleasure that radiated throughout
his body.
Qui-Gon filled his mouth with wine before bending to savor
Obi-Wan's erection, Obi-Wan's leg pressing against his own hip
as it rested on Qui-Gon's shoulder. At the ambrosial
combination of wine and pre-cum, Qui-Gon's hand clenched on the
bottle, his demonic strength shattering the glass. Surprised,
he dropped the bottle and jerked back but Obi-Wan moved just as
swiftly, rising up to grab Qui-Gon's hand and examine the
damage.
"A few small cuts, easily healed."
"Not with the Force," Qui-Gon immediately instructed. "Not by
you. You have not recovered your full strength. I'm sure this
ship contains basic medical supplies."
"Very well, but at least allow me to clean the wound."
Obi-Wan's deferential acceptance surprised Qui-Gon but the
Padawan's action made him groan, disbelieving his own eyes as
Obi-Wan brought Qui-Gon's hand to his mouth, carefully licking
away the flow of blood as well as the trace of wine. His tongue
flickered over the palm, the tapering fingers, the pad of
muscle at the base of the thumb.
Locking Qui-Gon's eyes with his own, Obi-Wan said, "The taste
of your blood is salty, coppery. Does my blood taste different
now that it sustains your life? Sweeter? More fulfilling?"
Qui-Gon could only moan and close his eyes, trying to suffocate
the wicked temptation to drink from Obi-Wan, his fangs aching
with the denial of his insatiable yearning. He'd drunk the
blood protein mixture concocted by the Jedi healers only a few
hours ago, but it was never as satisfying as the pure flavor of
his Padawan. "You dreamed this up before we left the planet,
didn't you? You never cared about taking Sei-Lona to the Jedi
healers. You want the Council's assistance to ensure the
successful creation of the soul-bond."
His free hand tangling in Qui-Gon's hair, Obi-Wan brought their
faces together. Qui-Gon's eyes reluctantly opened to see his
Padawan's determination. "I'm fighting for both of us, Qui-Gon.
Someone did this to you, someone who has probably studied
Valona genetics for decades. The Jedi healers can't help us.
Only the bond. Soul-bond with me, Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan's legs
wrapped around Qui-Gon's hips, urging him to step closer.
Qui-Gon shivered as he moved in response to Obi-Wan's command,
his hard shaft rubbing the entrance of Obi-Wan's body. "We must
find whoever did this. His plans must be stopped. No one else
must suffer."
"We will. After we bond, when we are stronger." Ripping at his
Master's clothes, Obi-Wan freed Qui-Gon's cock before digging
his heels into his buttocks, encouraging him to thrust,
desperately needing his Master to fill his body, to claim him
once more.
"Stronger..." Forgetting his words, Qui-Gon thrust, finding
Obi-Wan already prepared, easily accepting the intrusion, a
sign of his careful planning. "My weaknesses..." He started a
steady rhythm, slowly pulling out before shoving back into the
warm passage. Focusing on his thoughts was difficult but he
managed. "The sunlight...the blood..."
His arms wrapped around Qui-Gon's shoulders, his buttocks on
the edge of the table, Obi-Wan devoted his entire body to the
physical act of love, matching Qui-Gon's lazy speed. "The
sunlight is an inconvenience, no more. You will learn to cope.
You will always have me for blood." He gasped at a particularly
hard thrust, struggling to continue. "But your strength...I
shall have your strength. Your power. You are so powerful,
Qui-Gon."
Obi-Wan's willingness to live his life at Qui-Gon's side and
his unabashed admiration of his Master was more heady than an
aphrodisiac. Qui-Gon stopped thinking, stopped arguing. As
Obi-Wan chanted, "your power...your power," Qui-Gon simply
responded, gripping his Padawan's hips fiercely. He planted his
boots firmly on the decking, accelerating his pace, using every
bit of his strength to drive himself deeper and harder into
Obi-Wan's receptive body. Obi-Wan buried his head into the
curve of Qui-Gon's neck, warm breath moistening Qui-Gon's firm
flesh as he pleaded for more, his hands delving underneath
Qui-Gon's clothes to caress silken flesh.
The savagery of the mating couldn't be maintained for long.
With a final last moan from Obi-Wan and a hoarse gasp from
Qui-Gon, they climaxed, shuddering in unison. Obi-Wan felt
Qui-Gon's seed filling his body as saw his own creamy fluid
spray on Qui-Gon's tunics. Qui-Gon remained standing, cuddling
Obi-Wan, as they panted, reassuring kisses from each landing on
random patches of flesh.
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan detached himself from Qui-Gon's embrace,
his hands cupping Qui-Gon's face, stroking the short wiry
beard. His legs unlocked from Qui-Gon's hips, dangling limply.
"We must soul-bond, Qui-Gon. We must. We belong together
forever."
"In the morning, Obi-Wan. You've made it impossible to think
now."
For a second, Obi-Wan looked as if he would to argue, but he
allowed himself to be coaxed to the bed, watching as Qui-Gon
stripped off the remainder of his clothes. Qui-Gon slipped into
bed, Obi-Wan's head naturally resting on Qui-Gon's chest as his
Master's arms cradled him to his large body.
As he fell asleep, Qui-Gon thought he felt Obi-Wan bring his
hand to his lips, soft kisses falling on the small cuts, the
last drops of blood licked away by a warm tongue.
Qui-Gon was gone when Obi-Wan awoke in the morning. They had
been lovers for only weeks, but Obi-Wan had already grown
accustomed to the comforting heat of Qui-Gon's body, waking
when the disappearance of its presence registered in his
dreams. After a brief shower, he dressed in clean clothes and
sought his Master, eager to finish their conversation.
Obi-Wan located him in the ship's dining area, but his wish was
frustrated when he saw Fra-Zon and Sei-Lona eating breakfast.
He gave Qui-Gon a brief kiss to say good morning, ignoring the
rapidly disguised displeasure in Fra-Zon's eyes. Qui-Gon was
sipping a cup of tea, an action that Obi-Wan realized was more
out of stubborn pretense than any real need for food. Obi-Wan
served himself from the buffet before sitting at the table with
them.
Sei-Lona was telling stories as she delicately nibbled,
amusingly fond remembrances of Qui-Gon's father and Fra-Zon's
childhood, seemingly believing she could reunite her family and
make up for the lost years by bringing the past to life for
Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had seen the pattern develop during their time
in space. Qui-Gon would be polite and attentive to his mother.
Obi-Wan was convinced that Qui-Gon did enjoy hearing her tales
and a part of him missed never having a family life. But
ultimately, he would subtly turn the conversation, raising
questions about not just the childhood he might have had, but
the history of his family and their connection to the demons of
Valon.
The comm unit discreetly pinged and Fra-Zon reached over to the
unit to accept the signal. The pilot impassively noted, "We are
receiving a communications for Madame Jinn."
"Very well, patch it through."
The face of an elderly man appeared, his hair silvery white,
his body slightly stooped with age but radiating the calm power
of someone accustomed to authority. Obi-Wan recognized the
man's unconscious awareness that his words would be heeded.
Qui-Gon and Fra-Zon both shared that confidence, a sense of
assured dignity that Obi-Wan was learning to project during
diplomatic negotiations.
"Sei-Lona, after all these years...it is so good to see you."
"And to see you again, Father." Unable to respond with a hug,
Sei-Lona clasped her hands in front of her. "You received my
message?"
"Yes." Sei-Lona's message must have been comprehensive, as he
asked no questions. The confidence wavered for a second, a slip
that only a trained negotiator would catch. Obi-Wan wondered if
Qui-Gon saw it. "I don't understand what has happened but bring
them to me. Bring my grandsons to me and I will try to help."
The eyes, of course, Obi-Wan realized distantly. All their eyes
were the same brilliant blue. He could see only a trace of the
grandfather and the mother in the sons. The shape of the eyes
and the eyelashes. Sei-Lona's husband, their father, dominated
in the genetic arena, bequeathing his sons their height, sheer
physical size, the strong nose and tilted smile.
"Yes, Father. We will come to Valon."
"Then we shall meet again soon. Contact me when you arrive."
His words were brief, as if acknowledging that long-distance
communication could little help to resolve this dilemma. He
reached out with one hand, his image disappearing from the
screen.
"Why can he help?" The tone in Fra-Zon's voice was edgier than
Obi-Wan had previously heard him use toward his mother. "You
said he worked for the government."
"Please, Fra-Zon, understand."
"Understand what?"
"He did work for the government. For the Council of Ministers.
He was in charge of the Ministry of Science and Technology."
"And oh, let me guess. A premiere expert in genetic research,
exploring the demon problems."
Her eyes darted away from Fra-Zon's, and sought Qui-Gon's. At
the neutral blankness she found, her eyes shifted back to
Fra-Zon. "Yes."
"All these years...why didn't you tell me?"
"For the same reason that I waited so long to tell you of the
demons." Her hands rested on his arm, adding a physical plea to
her words. "I hoped you were safe. I hoped it didn't matter."
"And when I appeared, Mother? Why didn't you tell me?"
Qui-Gon's voice lacked Fra-Zon's wounded sensibility.
"Everything happened so fast. And I..."
Qui-Gon rested his hands on top of his mother's, their size
dwarfing hers. "You were scared, scared that he might know more
than he should."
"No!" she protested. "I never thought that Father might have
been involved. He was trying to eliminate demons, not create
them. I was scared... that I was responsible. It was
well-known, his personal interest in discovering the secret of
the demons. He was an important person, all those years ago.
When I fled, who I fled with...many would have known..."
Fra-Zon jerked his arm out from under their hands. "And when I
went to Valon, proclaiming my heritage, I was an easy target
for whoever's been researching genetics, wasn't I? A gift from
the gods, a half-Valona for scientific testing. Hiding things
might be the Valona way, Mother, but it isn't mine. You should
have warned us a long time ago."
Sei-Lona merely flinched at the accusation, unable to deny that
walking away from the past hadn't created a perfect present and
future. The past and all its troubles remained, a festering
wound waiting to be resurrected. She bowed her head as Fra-Zon
stalked out.
Tentatively, Qui-Gon slid his arms around his mother's frail
form. She went gratefully into the embrace, her head resting on
his shoulder. For only the fourth time in his adult life,
Qui-Gon hugged his mother.
"This isn't your fault, Mother. This isn't your fault. You did
your best for your children. This isn't your fault," he
murmured, stroking her hair, as she trembled with fear and
regret.
Obi-Wan twitched nervously, feeling like an interloper invading
their privacy, but not wanting to disturb the tableau.
Qui-Gon's eyes met his over the top of Sei-Lona's head. "We'll
go to Valon, Mother. Grandfather will help and everything will
be fine."
"Master, Coruscant would be better for the soul-bond." Obi-Wan
muted his voice, not wishing to sound argumentative, but
needing to protest the change in plans. "Together we would be
stronger to face whatever might happen on Valon."
Qui-Gon's hand left Sei-Lona's hair to hold Obi-Wan's across
the table, their fingers interlacing. Sei-Lona's face stayed
buried in his chest. "But if he can cure me, you wouldn't have
to sacrifice yourself."
"It's not a sacrifice, Master. I would have asked you to bond
with me after my Knighting."
"If all goes well, you still can. And I can accept, as a person
worthy to share your life."
Dazed, Obi-Wan shook his head. Could Qui-Gon truly believe this
old man, this veritable stranger, could help, or was he
desperately grasping at any possibility so he could avoid
taking further advantage of his Padawan? Even if Qui-Gon was
cured, they couldn't resume their prior relationship. Having
tasted Qui-Gon's passion, Obi-Wan would starve if relegated to
his proper student role for the years until his Trials. Obi-Wan
had faced that truth, even if Qui-Gon hid from the knowledge.
Whatever Qui-Gon's beliefs, the determination in his eyes was
plain. They would risk Valon before Qui-Gon would allow the
formation of a soul-bond. Though he despaired, Obi-Wan had no
choice but to accept.
"Yes, Master. I will ask the pilot to make the course change."
And probably bear the responsibility of persuading Fra-Zon too,
when the pilot checked with the ship's owner for approval. He
freed his hand and rose, as Qui-Gon gave a gentle smile in
appreciation.
It was the morning for unhappy exits, Obi-Wan thought as he
walked out of the dining area, leaving behind Sei-Lona and his
Master. It felt wrong, to walk away from Qui-Gon, even if only
temporarily. But whatever happened on Valon, Obi-Wan knew his
Master would need him. And when he did, Obi-Wan would be there,
be at Qui-Gon's side, supporting him, protecting him, loving
him.
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