Series/Sequel: Sequel to "Knights and Pawns"; this is the next
installment in my series which began with "Mortal Wounds". Also
contains a reference to Qui-Gon's conversation with Yoda about
Obi-Wan's love for him (in "Reflection").
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Set about three years before TPM; Obi-Wan is about
22.
Warnings: heavy heavy! angst, h/c, veiled references to
violence, and erotic tension in pt 3
Spoilers: None for TPM, unless you know nothing about the
fellas.
Archive: OK to The Nesting Place, SWAL and Master/Apprentice;
all others, please ask.
Feedback: Yes, pretty please! On-list or privately, detailed or
short - I crave it. Don't make me beg. <g>
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em. I use them. Lots.
Summary: Qui-Gon attempts to bring Obi-Wan back from a very
dark place. Author's Notes: We're not into AU territory yet,
y'all. There's a few stories to go before that happens. Depi
Billaba, who appears in this story, was the female Jedi Council
member in TPM - just FYI.
"Calm yourself, Master Qui-Gon," Mace Windu warned. "So much
anger can only lead in one direction."
Qui-Gon Jinn stood before the Jedi Council, defiance and demand
in his eyes, and bristling with a rage the likes of which
hadn't corroded the Council chamber for many years. "I asked a
simple question, Master. Was it a test for Obi-Wan? Is this why
the Council saw fit to keep information from me which might
have saved my Padawan?"
"And if it was?" Windu asked, challenging Qui-Gon to continue.
"What right did you have to expose him to such danger?" Qui-Gon
slowly began conquering the heat which was swirling like lava
within his heart. "At the very least, I should have been warned
about the unique abilities of the Echuro. You said only that
they were powerful. You did not say they were destructive."
"A test it was, Master Qui-Gon," Yoda said suddenly. "And fail,
you did."
Qui-Gon turned his head sharply to look at the wizened Jedi
Master, whose saddened eyes were a reflection of the
disappointment of the others in the room. They allowed Qui-Gon
to sense their feelings, and suddenly he understood.
The test had not been of his Padawan's abilities, but of his
own.
"Warned you, did I, of the consequences of continuing to train
the boy," Yoda said. "Listen, you would not. Follow your heart,
you did."
"We had no idea your apprentice would be so damaged," Windu
interjected. "Our purpose in sending you was to determine if
you could still function independently while so... involved...
with your Padawan. You made an error in judgment that exposed
you both to great danger."
"Had we known of the proclivities of the Echuro to torture
their prisoners mentally, another test would have been set,"
Master Depi Billaba said regretfully from her place slightly
behind Qui-Gon. "Only a fully trained Jedi Master such as
yourself could have withstood such an assault. It does not
reflect on your Padawan's abilities."
"You...deliberately...put him in danger..."Qui-Gon's
words were ground out with excruciating sharpness, like the
crunching of glass splinters between millstones. "You used him
to test me, to test our relationship." His chest was swelling
with contempt.
"We had to know, Master Qui-Gon." A concerned furrow appeared
between Mace Windu's brows. "And now we are doing all we can to
correct the injury inadvertently caused by our decision."
"Decide, we must, if his Master you will be," Yoda announced,
warning Qui-Gon that the time he spent with his Padawan now
might be shorter than planned, and therefore precious.
Qui-Gon's body was a straight, tense line, his lips set thinly
together, sparks flying from his blue eyes. He bowed slightly,
almost insolently. "Have I your leave to go to him, Masters?"
he asked tersely.
"If he is to recover, he will need your continued assistance,"
Master Windu encouraged him.
"Then let us hope I'll be allowed to give it," Qui-Gon snapped,
and stalked unceremoniously from the room.
Obi-Wan Kenobi sat quietly in a chair near the giant picture
windows, hands folded in his lap, staring out into the busy sky
of Coruscant. As Qui-Gon entered the quarters they continued to
share, Obi-Wan heard his approach, but did not move or
acknowledge his Master's presence. Late afternoon light was
spilling through the windows, illuminating the young Jedi's
face, making his eyes glow a brilliant aquatic greenish-blue.
In the depths of those eyes there were shifting shadows,
lurking very near to the surface, threatening to seize hold at
any moment and obscure the light.
"Have you eaten yet, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked.
Without turning his head, Obi-Wan answered, "No, Master." The
tone was polite enough, but devoid of any real feeling. "Please
go ahead without me if you're hungry."
"You know better than that," Qui-Gon chided softly. "You must
stay strong, to speed your recovery." He slung his cloak off
and hung it neatly, then set about producing a simple meal. His
hands were busy, but his mind wandered, returning to the events
of the past week.
Obi-Wan had been this way, or worse, for three weeks. His
apprentice had been unconscious throughout the voyage back to
Coruscant, and upon their arrival, Jedi healers had whisked the
young man away for many days. He had not been allowed to see
Obi-Wan, nor was he permitted to speak with the Council. After
what had happened aboard ship when Obi-Wan vehemently repelled
the touch of his Master's mind to his own, Qui-Gon had not
dared to reach out again across the space that separated them.
He was unable to reassure himself, or his Padawan. He was at a
loss to understand what had happened to cause Obi-Wan to fear
him so.
All was made clear when Qui-Gon was visited by the healers.
Obi-Wan's mind was deeply scarred by the violence and scope of
the intrusion which had been inflicted upon him by the Echuro.
The healers had reached into his mind, not without difficulty,
and had viewed scenes of shocking violence. Although there was
no physical damage, Obi-Wan believed these things to be real
because of the imprint upon his memory. The trauma he'd
experienced could not simply be wiped away, but would have to
be eased and soothed as though the violent acts had actually
occurred.
More difficult, however, was the thing which had caused Obi-Wan
to recoil from his Master's mind. The Echuro had taken a
particular pleasure in making Obi-Wan believe his Master had
forced himself upon his Padawan. They had taken the image of
Qui-Gon's face and body and wielded it as one wields a deadly
weapon, twisting it in as far and deep as it would go, making
Qui-Gon the instrument of trust betrayed, consuming Obi-Wan's
love and ripping it to pieces.
The healers cautioned Qui-Gon regarding allowing any of his
anger or pain over his Padawan's condition to bleed through
into his thoughts, lest he disturb Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had slammed
down a barrier between his thoughts and the outside world the
moment he understood the complications, and had held it tightly
in place ever since. The healers came every day to work with
Obi-Wan, trying to turn aside the memories he was reliving
every second, every moment, explaining patiently to him the
reality his heart wanted to believe, but his mind would not
accept. The progress was dishearteningly slow. Obi-Wan rarely
spoke, hardly ever moved, and seemed to be barely existing in
the world the rest of them inhabited.
Qui-Gon set aside two bowls of broth and turned to look at
Obi-Wan, his gaze full of compassion. They had only just
stepped onto a new path, one they had intended to follow
together. He was unwilling to believe that he would not share
that path with his Padawan. With a sigh, he picked up a dish
and went to Obi-Wan, holding it out to him. "Try to eat
something, Obi-Wan," he coaxed, sitting in a chair opposite his
Padawan, close but not too close.
"Yes, Master,' Obi-Wan said obediently, and immediately began
eating the soup rather methodically. He seemed to have no will
of his own, and was only following his Master's directions. It
was almost as if he didn't care if he lived or died.
Qui-Gon cared enough for both of them. A flash fire of intense
feeling -- determination and love, will and need, a desire to
protect and to be as they once were -- burned through Qui-Gon
as he watched his Padawan.
Obi-Wan shuddered roughly. The bowl and spoon slipped from his
fingers and clattered to the floor, spilling the contents. He
stared at his Master, turning as pale as a Corellian moon.
Startled, Qui-Gon sat forward, realizing too late that some
remainder of the powerful feelings he'd been biting down on had
wended their way to Obi-Wan. Too late to take it back - nowhere
to go but forward. "Let me help you, Padawan," he urged in a
hushed voice. He wanted desperately to touch his apprentice's
mind again, not by accident but with full intent, but he could
sense the battle raging within Obi-Wan.
"Master, I'm afraid," Obi-Wan said hesitantly, not in the
broken voice of a child, but the quiet, despairing tones of a
man, one who had lost all that was important and was unsure how
to begin again.
Qui-Gon moved then, releasing the tightly drawn breath he'd
been holding. Never taking his eyes off Obi-Wan, he took out
his comlink and called the healers. There was much to be done.
Qui-Gon paced the corridor adjoining the Chamber of the Healers
like a predator. Once again, they had spirited Obi-Wan off to
their sacrosanct inner sanctum, and Qui-Gon was not permitted
inside. He was hopeful that the fact Obi-Wan was able to read
his thoughts was a good sign, that his apprentice was opening
his mind and heart once again, but the longer he remained
inside the less sure Qui-Gon became. Perhaps new damage had
been done...Qui-Gon stopped pacing, hands on hips, and closed
his eyes against any suggestion he may have hurt Obi-Wan even
more. He simply could not bear it.
Cool air washed across his face as the door slid open and
Master Depi Billaba stepped out, much to his surprise. He bowed
to her out of respect. She returned the gesture, knowing full
well that Qui-Gon would easily have occupied her seat on the
Council, were it not for his defiance of certain tenets of the
Jedi Code.
"Master Qui-Gon. What are you prepared to do to assist your
Padawan?" Her words were weighted with concern.
"Anything." The answer came easily, immediately, without
thought. "Tell me."
"The healers are trying to remove the false image of rape from
his mind," she said bluntly. "His need for you, his longing,
his understanding that it is only illusion, has strengthened
his courage. In addition, his brief contact with your thoughts
was enough to reaffirm your true feelings for him." Billaba
studied Qui-Gon. "If they can help him to see the face of his
true attacker, Obi-Wan can separate out his perceived betrayal
from his feelings of love for you, and there can be healing."
"Take me to him," Qui-Gon appealed.
"Soon enough. First, I must know if the two of you have been
intimate." Billaba wasted no time mincing words.
Qui-Gon inclined his head slightly, memories assailing him. "We
have."
"Then your presence can assist the healers. Come," she invited,
moving ahead of him into the healers' domain.
An eerie calm, the stillness of a long and silent meditation,
filled the rooms occupied by the healers. Qui-Gon had never
sensed such a peaceful strength, not even in Yoda's rooms. He
followed Master Billaba through a maze of twisting rooms which
smelled faintly of unfamiliar spices.
Qui-Gon knew where they would find Obi-Wan; he allowed the
Force to flow through him and found he did not need Billaba to
show him the way. She rounded a corner ahead of him and Qui-Gon
looked over the top of her head to see Obi-Wan, a deeply
troubled look on his face, reclining on a raised sleep-couch
surrounded by four Jedi healers.
"Master Qui-Gon. Join us," one of the healers called, as
Billaba stepped in and moved aside. He went to his apprentice's
side and stood quietly, waiting for direction. The healer
turned to Obi-Wan. "Padawan. Do you understand what is asked of
you?"
Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon, with a thoughtful, wistful
expression. Qui-Gon returned the look, his face open and
willing. Obi-Wan then looked at the healer and answered, "I'm
ready to try."
"That is all we ask." The healer directed his gaze at Master
Billaba, who spoke from behind Qui-Gon.
"The healers will open Obi-Wan's mind to the experience he is
attempting to control. If they succeed in their efforts, Master
Qui-Gon, your role is to comfort your apprentice. Nothing
more." Her choice of words was pointed.
Without looking away from Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon answered, "I
understand."
Apparently satisfied, the healers moved into position, their
robes rustling as they centered Obi-Wan between them. Qui-Gon
opened his own mind, awaiting the directed thoughts of the
healers. He felt the living Force pouring into him, surrounding
them, engulfing him, dwarfing him...
//Surrender.//
//Master, no...//
//Give in to me, Obi-Wan. Or I will make you suffer for it.//
//You're not my Master!//
"No, he is not." Qui-Gon felt the gentle persuasion of
the healers being brought to bear. He focused on the hazy image
in his mind. Obi-Wan's terror was palpable, heart-wrenching. A
shape obscured the image of his Padawan. He heard the muffled
voices of the healers as if from far away. "Can you see who
holds you down, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"
//Strong arms pressed him down...the smell of sweat and sex was
strong, and he cried out as he felt the pain, and the betrayal
so immense he could barely comprehend it...his master --//
"He is not your master, Obi-Wan."
//--spit his hatred into him, hurting him, enraging him, making
his soul cry out. Intense anguish and distress saturated his
mind, as the breach of faith was completed. He howled,
unprotected, useless...//
"Open your mind's eye, Obi-Wan. What do you see?"
Qui-Gon's own rage was building with his Padawan's terror, at
this enemy he could not fight, this ghost Obi-Wan must conquer.
He felt Obi-Wan's enormous struggle to see clearly, to push
away his Master's imagined countenance.
"You must open your mind's eye, Obi-Wan."
Suddenly, Qui-Gon's knees buckled under the force of the same
psychic scream he'd heard on the planet. Its energy was
phenomenal. He reached out again with the Force and saw
Obi-Wan's true attacker...
//...but this was not his Master, this was his
enemy...Ruutha...nooo...//
Qui-Gon felt the healers withdrawing tenderly from Obi-Wan's
mind and immediately reached out to fill the void. Delicately,
like fingertips brushing the soft velvet of flower petals, he
touched his thoughts to Obi-Wan's. I am here, Padawan.
In answer, he felt the tentative reaching of the younger man's
consciousness, filled with enormous suffering, seeking him. He
exposed his heart to his Padawan, baring his soul in a way he'd
never imagined, and felt his Padawan growing stronger with the
knowledge of his Master's love.
A hand fell on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "Comfort, nothing more,"
Billaba whispered.
Ruefully, Qui-Gon backed away both mentally and physically, and
opened his eyes to see his apprentice deeply unconscious on the
couch. Qui-Gon took a very deep breath, centering himself once
again, and nodded at the questioning squeeze of Billaba's
fingers. "I'm fine."
"He will be returned to his quarters this evening, Qui-Gon.
There is still much healing ahead," Master Billaba told him.
"It is best if you rest now. You will need your strength."
Qui-Gon caught her hand where it rested on his shoulder and
twisted to face her. "Will I be allowed to remain his Master?"
he asked hoarsely, without preamble.
"That, I cannot say. It is for the Council as a whole to
decide," Billaba answered, her eyes softening as she looked at
him. She pulled her hand from his grasp. "Time to rest, Qui-Gon
Jinn."
With one more glance at his Padawan, Qui-Gon allowed himself to
be led away. For the moment, there was nothing more he could
do.
Water trickled down Obi-Wan's back, a rather pleasant
sensation, as his Master moved a cloth across his shoulders,
washing him. This was their ritual of late, a bath before bed.
Although Obi-Wan had tried to convince Qui-Gon he was strong
enough to take care of himself, his Master saw the tired
circles under Obi-Wan's eyes, the result of mental exhaustion,
as his Padawan slew the demons which nested in his own mind.
Obi-Wan felt pampered and indulged, and although his Master
would have balked at the notion he was spoiling his student,
Obi-Wan secretly believed it to be the case.
Obi-Wan shut his eyes and allowed himself to savor the
sensation of his Master's touch against his skin. It had been a
very long time since he had wished for that touch to do more
than provide solace and comfort. His skin tingled where Qui-Gon
was scrubbing him briskly, and he let his head fall forward,
more relaxed than he had been since the mission to Echuro. At
the thought of the mission, his neck and body tensed, and
Qui-Gon's strong hands were immediately positioned over the
slight, muscular shoulders, fingers digging deep, massaging all
tension out of him without effort.
"Master?" Obi-Wan splashed water over his stomach, removing all
remaining traces of soap.
"Yes, Padawan?" Obi-Wan could have sworn his Master sounded
amused.
"May I sleep in your bed tonight?"
Qui-Gon's hands stopped their motion briefly, then resumed, and
Obi-Wan felt his Master exhale a breath at the back of his
neck. As the air tickled its way over the short hairs at the
nape, Obi-Wan shivered. Almost immediately, a towel appeared
around his torso, and Qui-Gon was drying him quickly with the
soft fabric.
"If you're sure you're ready." The answer was somewhat
cautious, the tone measured.
Obi-Wan took hold of Qui-Gon's arm and stood up, wrapping the
towel around him as water slid from his body, creating a
rushing waterfall. Qui-Gon made sure his apprentice had a
secure grip on the towel, then turned toward the door. He
stopped there, back to his student, waiting.
Obi-Wan toweled off, stepped out and drew on a light tunic and
pants. "I am ready, Master." He was surprised at the
intensity of his own statement. Qui-Gon's broad back blocked
the door, his arm extended and supporting his Master against
the door frame, and for the first time in weeks Obi-Wan felt
ravenous to have those arms around him.
"I've been summoned before the Council," Qui-Gon said flatly.
Obi-Wan gasped. "So soon?" By his reaction, he betrayed his
fear. He'd known it was coming, because they had discussed the
possibility, but he had somehow believed they would have more
time. He didn't know what to say. There was so much, so much
left undone...
Qui-Gon sighed. "If it is the will of the Council that you be
trained by another, perhaps it is best, Obi-Wan. I did make a
serious mistake. And it will not happen again, if I
remain as your Master."
"Had you followed my lead, Master, it would not have happened
this time." Obi-Wan pointed out what he felt to be very
obvious.
Qui-Gon's eyebrow arched and he turned to face his Padawan, who
was regarding him with a twinkle in his eye. "One cannot look
back with the precision of hindsight and say such things,
Padawan."
"Oh yes, one can. I stepped forward to protect you, but also
because it was the correct thing to do. It is what you would
have expected of any other Padawan -- but not me." The emphasis
was firm and honest in its assessment. "You have trained me to
be your equal, Master. Let me live the lessons I've learned."
Obi-Wan moved forward, toe to toe with his Master, waiting. A
smile was playing across his face, lighting all the corners in
the way Qui-Gon remembered, and his apprentice took one more
step forward, so close that their bodies were pressed together.
"Let me live the lessons, Master," he breathed, face turned up.
There was nothing in the universe that could have prevented it,
nor did Obi-Wan need rescue. Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan in his arms
and bent his head low, occupying his Padawan's lips with a kiss
of sensual, unfulfilled wanting, tentative until he felt his
apprentice's answering need, then hard and willful, almost
desperate with desire.
Qui-Gon lifted his head and released Obi-Wan abruptly, and his
Padawan's mischievous grin caused an answering smile - very
small, but there nonetheless. There was really nothing else to
be settled. Qui-Gon took up his cloak and, with a lingering
look which swept over Obi-Wan like a breaking wave, he was off
to find out their future.
"Discussed this much, we have." Yoda's face was, as always,
inscrutable. "Think you there can be training, when lovers you
are?"
"Yes, Master Yoda." Qui-Gon felt united with the Force and sure
of his words for the first time in many weeks. "My mistake was
in my need to protect my student. He has become my teacher in
this. And many other things." Qui-Gon sought the eyes of every
member of the Council. "I should have trusted him to follow the
direction I gave him. I underestimated him and mistook his
motives. I would not make that mistake again."
"The Council has always had great faith in you, Master
Qui-Gon," Master Windu said. "You are our best warrior, one of
our best teachers. We were disappointed by your failure. It was
something a Padawan Learner might do, if not properly
instructed by his Master."
The words stung, but Qui-Gon accepted the reprimand without
defiance. "I understand, Master."
"Think you this will be easy?" Yoda's words rang out pointedly.
"It will not. Alert you must be, and on your guard. Not caught
in emotion. No mistakes. Room for error, there is not. Or
separated you will be!"
Qui-Gon's head tilted at an angle, and he nodded once. "I know,
Master Yoda."
Master Billaba added, "Your first duty is to your mission. The
second, to teach and train the boy. Everything else is
secondary."
"You may go, Master Qui-Gon," Yoda said, dismissing him before
a debate could begin.
How well they knew him...but not today.
Qui-Gon bowed and departed hastily, thinking of the future, and
of Obi-Wan. The short journey back to their quarters seemed to
take hours. And in that infinity, Qui-Gon could do nothing but
think. Instinct told him that although his Padawan felt he was
ready to bring their relationship back to where they'd begun,
it wasn't time just yet. Only recently had the nightmares
eased. There were other alternatives, not as satisfying, but
they would do for this night.
Qui-Gon entered his their quarters with a broad smile on his
face, and turned to find Obi-Wan curled up in his bed, blankets
strewn about with his usual flair, sound asleep. Qui-Gon
chuckled to himself. Without further thought about propriety or
caution, he shed his clothing and climbed in bed beside
Obi-Wan, who murmured something indistinct and wriggled up
against his Master. With supreme contentment, Qui-Gon tugged
and yanked the blankets around them and wrapped his apprentice
in his arms. There would be other nights to begin again. For
now, he was content to hold his future close to his heart.
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