Pre-Exiles Interlude

by Kass (kassxf@aol.com)

Just a little drabble written for Kate to expand on one of Qui-Gon's memories in Exiles....

Against all expectation, I had survived. I woke in the medi-unit, and was swiftly moved to one of the palace's guestrooms.

Still scarcely awake, I was dimly aware of Obi-Wan's presence nearby, dimly aware that Yoda and Mace Windu had arrived and spoken with me, although what kind of sense they'd have gotten from me is beyond my imaginings.

It was a few more days before I was awake long enough to realize that Obi-Wan's relief was giving way to a slow, simmering anger.

He said, "You shouldn't have gone ahead without me." Tightlipped.

I blinked at him, noticing also that his padawan braid was gone, felt a pang of true sorrow. "I'm sorry." Faintly. "I knew you were on your way."

He bowed his head. "I was."

I felt the faintest echo of remembered grief, reached out a hand for him. "How did you get through?"

His mouth tightened further when he looked at me. "I did something I'm not supposed to know how to do." Thin smile. "They're still trying to figure it out. I went through the door between its cycle of laser phases."

I stared at him, pushed myself back up against the pillows. The risk--just thinking about it made me shudder. "Gods..." A forgotten oath from my lost childhood. "Obi-Wan..." But my voice trailed off awkwardly. "You saved my life."

He nodded without meeting my eyes. "You need to eat," he said, pushing the tray toward me.

And no more would he answer.

The next morning, though, the anger seemed clearer, when he brought Anakin in. The little boy's eyes were wide. "Are you all right, Master Qui-Gon?"

"I'm as near as," I told him lightly.

He tilted his head up to look at Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan is a knight now, too." I blinked, realized that I had forgotten to recognize my padawan's passage, felt fresh shame, even though I knew it was only thickheadedness left from healing.

"He is," I said huskily. "And rightly so."

"Anakin managed to blow up the Federation ship," Obi-Wan told me, his tone uninformative.

Anakin beamed at me. I gazed at him, finding my certainty less on this side of death. Nevertheless, I reached out, ruffled his hair. "Perhaps you could find something to entertain you so that I may speak with Obi-Wan?"

Anakin nodded. "Yes, sir. Padme--I mean, Amidala says she's taking me to the lake this morning. To watch the fishermen."

"That sounds like a good outing," I told him. "You won't want to keep her waiting."

Obi-Wan nodded at the boy, who scampered out; Obi-Wan turned as if to go.

"Obi-Wan," putting a bit of command into my voice, "Please, sit down, we must talk." Despite weakness, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, too aware of the way my pulse had sped. What could I say? He was a knight now, no longer my padawan, he had his own path to pursue.

And it broke my heart to let him go, the utmost in selfishness. I had to try harder. "Congratulations, Obi-Wan." But my vision blurred a little, my eyes stung. "I'm very proud of you."

He gave me a curious look. "Thank you. Now, you are free to take Anakin as Padawan, you needn't contend with me any more."

I almost reached out. Held myself back. "Contend with you? It was my greatest joy to contend with you."

"Really?" Disbelief and anger again. "Whatever...you have Anakin now, Master Yoda has agreed." Edged tone. "You are to return to Coruscant, of course, they want to keep a close eye on him. I'm waiting to find out where they'll send me."

His anger dismayed me. It worried me. I knew it was going to hurt to have him leave, but to have him leave like this--"So soon?" I blurted and could have bitten my tongue out.

"I asked them to think of something." He shifted, paced the room. "I need to get away from here."

Briefly, oh, so briefly, his voice broke, just a heartbeat of time, and his expression remained impassive.

I sought for the bond that had guided us for half his lifetime, found myself blocked. "Padawan--Obi-Wan, will you sit?" It was making me lightheaded, watching that caged anger, all that motion. He turned to face him, looking very much as though he was going to simply leave.

I felt my heart thud, still weak from healing. "Please." Humbly.

Something in his face shifted, he looked away. "You wanted me gone, I'm going. You have another Padawan, the Chosen One. And I am a knight."

It all came clear in that instant. Oh, how it came clear; I had hurt him. And worse, I had nearly died, which had doubtless frightened him.

I knew how I would have felt in like circumstances, his limp body in my arms. And worst, I had begged him to train Anakin at the moment I had believed myself dying. I got up on shaky legs. "You cannot believe that I want you to go," I whispered, "You cannot!"

His eyes came back to mine and his mouth twisted. "Why should I not?"

I heard the cry of pain beneath the bitterness, took two steps toward him and seized him. "Why should you not?" And kissed him, fatally, selfishness incarnate and oh, his mouth flowered beneath mine, I had to pull him back to the bed--I wasn't sure how long I could stand.

He melted into my kiss, into my arms, bethought himself and tried to pull away, genuine worry in the faint wordless sound that came from his throat, but I was having none of it, I kissed his mouth again, his eyelids, his jaw, his throat, completely out of control, all my wisdom blown to the four winds as I told him again and again that he was my life, my heart, that losing him on these terms would kill me again.

Extravagance, but honestly meant, and oh, I meant every word. His eyes were wide and overbright when he finally pulled away. "No," he whispered, "You can't, you shouldn't, you might have died!" And then he wept, just for a little, and I held him close, both of us sprawled heedlessly across the big bed. Not a child's tears, but the harsh weeping of a man, but I held him anyway, as I had held him more than once in his childhood. This time, though, I kissed him, murmured to him in a way that was new.

New to both of us. I felt as though I'd been freed from a prison of my own making; selfish or not, I loved him. I kissed his mouth again, and he kindled for me; I could not have imagined such desire, particularly just after leaving what might have been my deathbed. But desire there was, fierce and bright, and he was so beautiful, so intent on exploring every centimeter of my rather battered body, allowing me to explore his. We had seen each other naked before, how not? But this moment was fraught with beginnings, with eroticism, and while I had not lived a monkish existence, I could not recall such intensity of emotion or pleasure.

So beautiful, face to face, both of us aroused almost beyond endurance; I dare say that Amidala's servitors could have walked in and we would never have noticed, so wrapped up were we in one another. We came within moments of each other, holding each other tightly, bodies pressed close together. Nothing too strenuous, but there was nothing sweeter than that moment. After, he put his head on my chest, listened to my heartbeat slow to normal. "You might have died." Hoarsely.

I smiled senselessly at the ceiling. "I'm going to live forever."

A smothered chuckle and he leaned up, his chin resting on folded arms. "Me, too."

"You'd better," I told him and kissed his mouth. "I intend to make sure of it."

A long lambent look. And then, in a low voice, barely audible, he began to say the vows of the lifebonded, laying his head back down on my chest as if he were afraid of seeing my reaction.

I cupped the back of his head, literally moved to tears; tugged him up to look into his eyes. And then, after kissing that responsive mouth, I took hold of his hand. "Are you certain?" Hoarsely.

He nodded, eyes wide again.

I kissed him again, slowly and tenderly, and began to say the vows back to him, tears falling unheeded. And when I had finished, I said, huskily, "You are my life."

He pressed his forehead against mine. "I will never leave you."

And, having given me both my life and my love, he has not.

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