Summary: A Jedi Master learns the price of obsession.
Feedback: yes, please. Any and all comments welcome.
Disclaimer: The boyz aren't mine, much as I wish they were.
They belong to George Lucas, who is a kind man for creating
such a wonderful universe for us all to play in.
Qui-Gon's boot skidded across the loose shale that covered the
side of the mountain, and he cursed softly under his breath as
a particularly sharp outcropping sliced a thin trail of blood
across his palm when he used it to steady himself. The fingers
of his other hand clenched around the hilt of his lightsaber,
and its angry green hum seemed to fill the entirety of his
world.
*Control*, he chastised himself harshly. When had this become
personal? The intensity of the emotions that surged through him
made it impossible for him to find his center, and he knew that
such a weakness could prove fatal if he were ever to engage his
prey.
*When*, he corrected stubbornly, pausing for the briefest of
moments at the top of the rise to reach for the clinging
remnants of the Force-sense that led him. *Not 'if'.*
There. Without pausing to catch his breath, he arrowed toward
the narrow black slit that he could just barely see tucked away
in the side of the cliff. He could hear Obi-Wan calling to him
from somewhere down the slope, but he did not - could not -
slow. Like a Tadarian mynox catching the last frenzied scent of
its prey, he dove mindlessly for the opening and slipped
inside.
The cave was larger inside than he had expected. Darkness
surrounded him, and it was more than just the absence of light.
The Force swirled around him in slow, muddy currents that made
him grimace in distaste. The dark side was almost a physical
presence in this place.
There was a subliminal shiver in the rock under his boots, and
he paused a moment, considering. This portion of the continent
was geologically unstable at the best of times, and now, so
soon after the quake that had decimated the Aeirrian capital,
it was probably unwise in the extreme to venture underground.
But Xanatos had come this way. As if just thinking the name
were enough to invoke his presence, Qui-Gon's head turned in
the darkness, tracking after the flicker in the Force he
detected off to his left.
Xanatos. The darkness seemed to hiss his name.
His decision made, Qui-Gon moved further into the cave, the
steady green glow of his lightsaber casting a pallid glow over
the wall beside him. It illuminated very little of the cave,
and he realized after a moment that the only purpose it was
truly serving was to make his own position unambiguously clear.
With an annoyed scowl, he flicked the lightsaber off.
A low chuckle rose out of the blackness in front of him, so
close that Qui-Gon imagined he could feel the breath of its
expulsion across his face. He snatched a hand forward blindly,
but there was nothing there.
"Relax, my Master," that silken voice said to him, as if it had
been born out of the darkness itself. "You must learn to find
comfort in the darkness, to make it a part of you. Then you
will no longer feel the need to fear it." Another soft laugh,
gently amused. "They do say that this is the mark of a
well-matched relationship, when the Padawan in turn instructs
the Master."
"You are no longer my Padawan." Qui-Gon heard the edge in his
voice and winced inwardly. His center was completely gone, and
his focus was shattered. Somewhere along the flight from the
capital, he had allowed this pursuit to become personal, and
now he had lost all advantage in the situation. He breathed and
imagined he could taste the darkness around him.
"Bitterness, Master?" Xanatos' voice was mocking. Now it was
coming from somewhere off to Qui-Gon's right, and the Jedi
Master turned toward it, slinking soundlessly back away from
the wall. Arrogance had always been this man's downfall;
Qui-Gon's best strategy would be to let him boast and use the
sound of that strongly resonant voice to home in on his former
Padawan's location.
A sudden tremor in the ground gave Qui-Gon pause, and he
thought suddenly of Obi-Wan, who he had left behind somewhere
down the face of the mountain in his wild chase to apprehend
Xanatos. It had been a foolish thing to do, driven by passion
and a need for vengeance that was unworthy of a Jedi Master.
What was it about his former Padawan that made Qui-Gon lose
control of himself so entirely?
Another tremor, stronger this time. Qui-Gon glanced back at the
milky oval of the cave entrance uncertainly, wondering just how
far he was willing to push this. Exactly how much was he
willing to risk in the hopes of bringing his former Padawan
down?
The answer to that question was easy. What he didn't quite
understand was why.
"Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon." The smooth, mocking voice led him further
into the darkness. "Your apprentice is calling to you. Surely
you aren't going to leave him alone up there in the middle of a
seismic upheaval. Whatever would the Council say?"
Qui-Gon refused to speak and give away his position. He moved
silently through the dark, hand clenching tightly around the
hilt of his lightsaber. The worst part of it was that he
*could* hear Obi-Wan calling for him. Deliberately, he sent a
wave of reassurance over their bond, but he did not shift his
focus away from the sound of Xanatos' voice.
And then it happened. Between one step and the next, the ground
beneath him shuddered, and a cloud of dust fell like rain from
the ceiling. Qui-Gon stifled the urge to choke and froze for a
moment while he struggled for breath. *Fool!* his brain
screamed at him, but even then, he could not abandon his goal,
could not just turn and run while Xanatos was so very close...
The cave roared behind him with the sound of a dying animal's
scream, and suddenly the dark was alive with movement around
him. Qui-Gon ducked to the side and rolled as the Force
whispered a warning to him, and he barely missed being struck
by the chuck of granite that plunged at him from the ceiling of
the cave. He realized at once what was happening and pressed
his back against the wall of the cavern, knowing he would never
make it back to the cave's entrance without being buried alive.
Slim fingers closed around his upper arm, startling him. Even
as he raised his lightsaber in instinctive defense, that coldly
familiar voice was whispering urgently in his ear.
"Come with me if you want to live."
Qui-Gon hesitated. Warm breath tickled across his ear as the
voice spoke to him, sparking a chord of memory within him. It
occurred to him that Xanatos must have spent a great deal of
time in these mountains while he was planning his conquest of
the spice trade out of Aeirri, and that he may very well know
of a back way out of this death trap.
Xan seemed to sense his acquiescence without Qui-Gon having to
say a word, because that deceptively slender hand was pulling
him further back into the darkness now, away from the mouth of
the cave. Qui-Gon yielded to it with a scowl of
self-condemnation and followed its gentle pressure without
complaint.
"This way."
Flare of white light in the darkness - a flashcube. Qui-Gon
caught a harried glimpse of ink black hair, fine as cornsilk
against the chaos of the cave-in around them, and then he was
running, chasing after the tantalizing form that he could still
only half-glimpse in the shadows.
The rock of the mountain seemed more stable the further back
they retreated into the clinging darkness. After several
minutes, the light from the flashcube came to a tremulous halt,
and Qui-Gon grunted as he caught his weight against the wall
heavily. Panting lightly, he looked ahead to see what had
brought his former student up short.
The tunnel ahead of them was completely caved in.
The flashcube illuminated Xan's form in stark black edges, as
if it were nothing more than a cut-out shadow against the dark.
Even so, Qui-Gon could sense the waves of frustration and shock
that radiated out of that slim frame.
"No back door?" Qui-Gon guessed, willing his suddenly frantic
heartbeat to slow.
Xanatos turned to look at him, and his blue eyes were wide in
the stillness, framed by shadows in the pale skin of his face.
Errant wisps of midnight hair clung to his cheeks.
Qui-Gon flexed his grip around the hilt of his lightsaber,
meeting the younger man's gaze warily. An eerie silence had
fallen over the caves behind him.
"This tunnel was stable." Xan's voice was soft. He sounded as
if he didn't quite believe what his senses were telling him. "I
checked it myself."
"Obviously you were mistaken." Qui-Gon's voice was wry. He did
not relax his hold on his lightsaber, although he did not
ignite it.
Xan smiled, and it was the crooked, devil-may-care expression
that Qui-Gon remembered, so full of cockiness and smooth self-
assurance. It sent a pang of memory through the Jedi Master,
and he fought the urge to look away.
"You always did know how to assess a field situation," Xanatos
said. His shrug was almost imperceptible as he turned to look
once again at the fallen ruin of the tunnel. "I suppose your
apprentice will come to rescue us eventually."
"If the front entrance is indeed closed off." Making his
decision suddenly, Qui-Gon turned his back on his former
apprentice and started making his way back toward the main
cavern.
Xan appeared at his side a moment later, the white light of the
flashcube bobbing along with him. "I really wouldn't recommend
wandering around down here without a light. This place is a
warren. You can get lost quite easily."
Qui-Gon said nothing, but he was distinctly aware of the
comfortable way in which he matched his strides to that of the
smaller man, without even thinking about it. It had been a long
time since Xan had walked along at his side like this. A very
long time.
As he feared, the front entrance of the cave was completely
sealed. The dust was still settling in the large chamber, and
Xan's light caught on the glistening edges of the broken
stalactites that were scattered across the cavern floor. It was
a scene of complete devastation.
Qui-Gon held a tight rein on the surge of denial that raced
through him. He thought of the numerous narrow passages that
had opened off of the tunnel they'd passed through, but
immediately discarded the notion. It would do him no good to
wander off and get lost; Xan's estimation of the mountain's
maze-like properties was probably right on target. His best bet
was to wait here until Obi-Wan could come to liberate him.
"We could always cut our way out," Xan murmured from beside
him, making Qui-Gon start. He had almost forgotten the man was
there.
"No." Qui-Gon kept his voice neutral. "Without knowing the
condition of the ledge outside the cave, we could trigger a
second cave-in."
"That would be most unfortunate."
Qui-Gon snorted, closing his eyes against the lance of pain
that the words evoked in him. He had forgotten how refreshing
Xan's sense of humor could be. That charming irreverence that
had often been so frustrating around the Temple had always been
a balm in moments of crisis. It was as if Xan were not capable
of taking anything, not even the possibility of his own death,
seriously.
Trying to shield his discomfort, Qui-Gon moved to sit on a
fallen piece of stone against the wall. He breathed deeply to
calm the disquiet that rose in him, and reached for his center
through the Force. Slowly, his focus reasserted itself around
him.
He became aware suddenly of the midnight blue eyes that watched
him. Xan had seated himself on the dust of the cavern floor,
long black cloak wrapped tight around his deceptively slender
frame. His eyes were appraising as they stared up at his former
Master.
"You know that there is only a limited supply of air in these
caverns," Qui-Gon remarked casually, unsettled by that feline
regard. He had been more comfortable, in fact, with the
viciously murderous young man who had been hell bent on
obtaining revenge. "I'm surprised that you're allowing me to
use up what little oxygen we may have remaining."
Xan smiled at him, that same faintly self-deprecating
expression that had always had the ability to charm dignitaries
and peers alike. Including one devoted and trusting Jedi
Master. "I'd think that running out of air would be the least
of our worries," he said with perfect aplomb. "I'd expect us to
die of starvation or thirst far before suffocation became an
issue."
Damn the boy. Qui-Gon looked away from that steady regard and
reached out along the tendrils of his bond with Obi-Wan. His
Padawan was nearby, but it would take him a while yet to home
in on his Master's location. Not for the first time, Qui-Gon
wished that they had an actual telepathic link.
A sudden movement caused him to whip his head around in sudden
wariness. Xanatos had shifted closer and was now gazing up at
him with a faintly amused smile curling his lips. "Are you
going to strike me down, Qui-Gon?" he asked, obviously aware of
the blatant challenge in his former Master's eyes.
Qui-Gon tightened his grip on his lightsaber's hilt. Xan's
hands held only the flashcube, his own lightsaber lost
somewhere under the folds of his robe. It was ridiculous in the
extreme to keep posturing when there was no obvious threat, but
damn it, Qui-Gon could not bring himself to trust this boy.
As if reading his thoughts, Xanatos added, "What do you think
would happen to me if I killed you now? Do you honestly think
your apprentice would come in here just to rescue me?"
It made sense. As long as Qui-Gon was alive, Obi-Wan could
continue to search for him through their bond. If Qui-Gon died,
Xanatos would be trapped here in the darkness forever. The
logic of the argument was perfect.
Qui-Gon didn't trust it.
Deliberately, Qui-Gon laid the lightsaber in his lap. "Why did
you involve yourself in the spice exportation here?" he asked
mildly, making an obvious attempt to change the subject.
One elegant black eyebrow lifted. "I needed the money." Small
shrug, as if the matter were of little consequence. "Not that
it matters much now. You have my ship impounded."
Qui-Gon nodded. "That I do."
Xan smiled again, and this time there was a touch of bitterness
to it. "Always one step ahead of me, aren't you, my Master?"
Qui-Gon barely controlled his wince at the words. "Why do you
call me that?"
For a moment, Xan looked at a loss for words. Then he answered,
"Because it hurts you, I guess." Another self-deprecating twist
of a smile. "I never was very good at holding my temper."
"No," Qui-Gon agreed.
And then there was silence between them, thick as blood, but
not entirely uncomfortable for all of that. Qui-Gon sighed and
at last gave into it, this renewed feeling of camaraderie as
they waited to be rescued. The forced inaction grated on his
nerves, but he released his impatience and dissatisfaction into
the Force. Slowly, a thin veneer of peace settled over him.
A peace that was shattered entirely once Xan's fingers lifted
to ghost across the top of his knee. Qui-Gon jumped and stared
down at his former student in surprise.
Xan's expression was subdued. "You love him, don't you?" he
asked quietly.
Qui-Gon stared at him. The warmth from those fingers seemed to
be burning through the fabric of his leggings. "Who?" he asked,
stupidly, although he already knew exactly who Xanatos was
referring to.
Small, indulgent smile. "The golden child. The shining star of
the Jedi Temple. Your apprentice, Qui-Gon. You're in love with
him, aren't you?"
Qui-Gon was taken aback by the depth of pain in the words. "I
hardly think that my relationship with Obi-Wan is any concern
of yours," he said after a moment.
It was answer enough, and Xan leaned back with a small nod of
his head. "I see." His blue eyes smoldered as he held Qui-Gon's
gaze. Leaning back on one arm, he asked, "Did you ever want me,
Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon's breath caught in his throat. The even white light of
the flashcube illuminated Xan's face with perfect clarity,
accenting the darkness of the hair that hung in silken disarray
around the younger man's shoulders. There was a beauty to him
that even Obi-Wan didn't have, couldn't have, because this was
the beauty of wildness incarnate, an elegance that came only
from the decision to turn away from all the rules and follow
one's own path. Qui-Gon couldn't erase the notion that he was
sitting in the presence of an extremely beautiful, extremely
dangerous predator, and the danger and the beauty both were
alluring in the sheer power that they held over him. Had always
held over him.
"I didn't mean to do it, Xan," the Jedi Master said, and he
barely recognized his own voice. The pain in the words was
completely alien to him. It was something he had buried far
beneath his outer facade of calm, all these years, until he
hardly recognized it as his own.
The expression in Xan's eyes turned cold and distant for a
moment, but then the anger faded. "We all do what we have to
do," he said stiffly.
Qui-Gon shook his head, not wanting to leave it like that
between them. How often had he dreamed of having this very
opportunity, of being able to explain, to say that he was
sorry? How was he to even go about apologizing for killing the
father of the student that had trusted him, depended on him?
What was there in all the galaxy that could bring this man to
forgive?
"I wanted you." The words were little more than a sigh. Xan
rested his forehead on the back of his hand, which was still
curled over Qui-Gon's knee. As if he found strength in the
broken eye contact, his voice seemed to grow stronger as he
continued. "You never even looked at me, not in the way that I
wanted you to. I tried everything short of propositioning
myself to you, but you were oblivious to everything I tried."
*Not so oblivious as you may think.* Qui-Gon couldn't bring
himself to say the words aloud. Instead, he hesitantly moved
one hand to finger the silk-fine tangle of black hair that had
fallen across his leg.
"You underestimate your charms, my young one," he said at last.
Xan's face lifted, spearing him with a sharp blue gaze. That
had always been a term of endearment between them,
affectionately patronizing in a way that the sternly proud
Xanatos had rebelled against in his youth but come to find
endearing as he neared maturity. It was a reminder of the past
between them.
Without removing his eyes from Qui-Gon's, Xanatos unfolded
fluidly from his position on the floor until he was sitting on
his knees in between Qui-Gon's legs, one hand resting lightly
on top of each of his former Master's knees. Qui-Gon's mouth
felt suddenly dry as he met that sharply felinoid gaze, and he
realized suddenly that he was as entrapped by those eyes as he
was by the layers of rock that sealed them in this cavern. The
worst thing was that he couldn't say it was an unwilling
captivity.
Qui-Gon's breath wafted out of him in a soft sigh as Xanatos
leaned in to kiss him. His eyes fluttered closed as those warm
lips caressed his, the lightest brush of warmth against his
mouth. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the sweet scent of the
boy's skin, the sharply winter scent that was uniquely Xanatos.
A sharp scuffling sound from the entrance of the cave
distracted him, and Qui-Gon's gaze flickered to the pile of
broken stone that covered the opening. Obi-Wan's presence was
bright as a supernova outside the cave, his frantic worry
pulsing with a strength that made Qui-Gon aware once again of
how strongly his apprentice felt for him. There was no
deception in him, no avarice. His light was a steady beacon,
untainted by darkness.
Qui-Gon's eyes moved once again to the young man in front of
him, so close that he could feel the heat of the body through
the fabric of his robe. Slim fingers brushed lightly down the
front of Qui-Gon's tunic, a possessive, claiming gesture. Xan's
eyes as they held his were sad.
"He's coming for you. Your blameless one."
Was that a note of regret in Xan's voice? Was it possible that
after everything they'd been to each other, the boy might
actually be feeling remorse for what he'd become?
Qui-Gon's lips parted, and even then he didn't know what he was
going to say. Would he utter words of forgiveness, assurance,
remorse? Would he admit to the part he had played in the
decisions that Xan had made, because of his blind love, because
of his eyes that could see no wrong in the darkly shining child
that Xan had once been? Would he welcome Xan back into the Jedi
fold? Would he forgive?
He never got the chance to find out. All at once, the flashcube
in Xan's hands went dark, and the sudden shock of the blackness
around him made Qui-Gon hesitate one moment too long. When he
reached out to grab the man in front of him, there was nothing
there. It was as if Xanatos had vanished with the light, as if
he had been no more substantial than a wraith.
Qui-Gon could hear the sharp scrabbling of rock against rock as
Obi-Wan fought to clear a path that would get him to his
Master, but Qui-Gon's attention was focused on the midnight
gloom around him. His heart pounded madly in his ears.
"When you look into the face of the darkness," a silken voice
whispered from out of the dark, "you have to be prepared for
what you'll see there."
Qui-Gon rose to his feet and turned slowly around, searching.
He could see nothing but phantom images of black on black,
tricks that the darkness was playing on his tender eyes.
"Sometimes it will be something you might never have expected
to find." The voice was farther away now, as if it were
breaking apart into the darkness itself. And then, so softly
that Qui-Gon might almost believe he had imagined it, "I'm
sorry, Qui-Gon."
And Qui-Gon knew that Xan was gone. The darkness seemed to
breathe a caressing sigh against his cheek in parting, and then
he was alone.
Obi-Wan's hand was firm as he pulled his Master out of the
cave. Qui-Gon winced as his cut hand pressed against the rock
face while he levered himself out of the hole, but he made no
voice of complaint. He forced a wan smile as he met his
apprentice's rapturous gaze.
A shadow seemed to fall over Obi-Wan's eyes as he took in his
Master's somber mien. "He got away, didn't he?" he guessed,
keeping his voice low.
Qui-Gon nodded, and Obi-Wan said nothing further for a moment.
One long hand brushed across his Master's cheek in silent
sympathy. "At least we have his ship impounded," the Padawan
commented, trying to lighten his Master's mood. "He won't be
going anywhere soon."
With those words, all of Xanatos' carefully executed plans were
made clear. Qui-Gon swayed slightly, reaching out to steady
himself on an outcropping of rock. Ignoring Obi-Wan's concerned
gaze, he dipped his hand inside his robe and felt in the pocket
of his tunic. The breath he expelled was more weary than
aggrieved.
"Master? What is it?" Obi-Wan's voice was uncertain.
The smile Qui-Gon favored him with was self-deprecating, the
razor edge of it cutting inward sharply. He realized with some
degree of dark amusement that it was a smile he had learned
from his former Padawan. "The key to the impound yard. It's
gone."
Obi-Wan's expression darkened. "But he's trapped in those
caves. There's no way he could-"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "The caves are a warren. No doubt he
mapped them all out very carefully before drawing us up here.
He knew that the other tunnel had been caved in during the
earlier quake, and he pretended that he knew of no other way
out. And I believed him. Despite everything, I ... trusted
him."
Obi-Wan clearly did not know what to do about the bitterness in
his Master's voice. He said nothing as they continued to make
their way down the mountain.
Qui-Gon knew that when they reached the city, Xanatos'
transport would be gone. It had all been a ruse to get the key
from him. He should have suspected all along. How could he have
been so foolish?
*Damn it, I wanted to believe him.* Qui-Gon had fallen prey to
seduction, a kiss, a voice, a fragile hope held out in front of
him like a bauble held before a poor man. He had been so eager
to believe that Xan could be redeemed, that he might, in his
heart, want to be. Qui-Gon had been easy to deceive.
But even so, he could not erase the image of those twilight
eyes burning at him from out of the darkness. And as he thought
more about it, a possibility occurred to him.
Perhaps Xan had fallen prey to his own seduction. Perhaps, at
the heart of things, he had been tempted by the possibility he
had offered to Qui-Gon.
*When you look into the face of the darkness, you have to be
prepared for what you'll see there.*
*Sometimes it will be something you might never have expected
to find.*
It was a tenuous hope, but it was something for Qui-Gon to
cling to. Maybe he was still being blind and idealistic, or
maybe he was just trying to find purpose in the chaos that
still bound him to his former Padawan. Either way, it was a
hope that eased some of the shadows that lay over his heart. He
felt a sudden surge of warmth in a corner of his soul that he
had long thought dead and empty.
His spirits lifted, Qui-Gon Jinn looked fully into the
darkness, and smiled.
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