Archive : yes to M/A, QGJDL. QJEB and my homepage OMG
(Obiphil's Master of the Galaxy =
http://home.netvigator.com/~phil777/index.htm)
Rating : PG
Category : AU, H/C, POV (Obi's narration)
Pairing : Q/O and Obi's entire family
Spoilers : little bit of TPM
Disclaimer : George Lucas owns everything. I own zip. Doesn't
bother me as there's but one thing I truly want these days. I
WANT QUI-GON BACK!!!!
Many many thanks to : my twin stars, Danni and Babara. Danni
for most generously sharing with me her cool insight and life
saving tidbits and seeing me through thick and thin. Barbara
for sticking with me from Day 1 and story 1, being forever
kind, supportive and encouraging without fail, never deserting
me through it all. My gratitude also to all those who have
written to tell me they liked Torant Kenobi, from whom this
entire series sprouted.
Summary : Obi-Wan battles his family for their acknowledgement
of Qui-Gon's status as his bondmate.
Feedback : oh yes, please. Nothing would make me happier, well,
except waking up to Qui-Gon's stunningly handsome face.
Author notes : 1. Finali of The In-law series. The first 2
stories in the series are "The In-law" and "The In-laws (Part
2) --- An Interlude". Both archived on M/A and my homepage.
Reading those two helps but not essential as I'll supply a back
story below. 2. No beta readers, all imperfections mine. 3.
**Characters' thoughts or mental conversations**
I maneuver my head and limbs yet again, trying to burrow in
still closer against the broad muscular frame of the man who
just made wanton, passionate love to me. An eminently difficult
task as whatever little space there was between our naked
bodies, it must have been almost entirely obliterated by my
previous attempts to relentlessly snuggle in ever more closely.
I can't help it. The mushy romantic in me has been unleashed
wildly by the glorious sex that I just had. I have become
addicted to the man who gave me that.
Can't seem to have enough of him!
My head finally finds that perfect spot where it fits
seamlessly into the hallow in Master's neck, my forehead gently
braced against strong lusciously bearded jaw, an arm of mine
sprawling across deep, solid, expansive chest.
I sigh in contentment, boneless. Totally and completely
immersed in the smell, touch, aura and love of the man that
holds my heart and soul. There's absolutely nowhere else I'd
rather be at the moment.
Such enjoyment of afterglow is rare. Usually, we drift into
slumber straightaway after making love. But this time, I find
myself wide awake afterwards, even though our joining was
incandescent and mind-shattering in its intensity, even though
the consumption of raw energy must have been staggering.
The nap that we took before has done wonder.
So here I am, all my faculties intact, greedily savouring the
sweetness of having fallen in love all over again.
Another sated sigh escapes my mouth. I brush a tender kiss
against the smooth, warm skin of Master's broad muscular chest,
tasting dried sweat, a slightly musky salty taste tingling my
palates, delicious tang.
I have no fear of waking him for I know he's awake as well.
Qui-Gon always sleeps with a slight snore. I have gotten so
used to it that I now have difficulty falling asleep without
it. Maybe that's the real reason why I am awake. Master's not
snoring and I am not sleeping.
A long powerful arm closes around me across my shoulder, 2
blunt fingers begin tracing small, feathery circles on the bare
skin of my arm
I lift my head to look into that noble beloved face. The
midnight blue eyes are half lidded now. Languid, tender and
misty, they have lost much of their usual piercing sharpness.
But they bore deep into my love filled heart, nevertheless.
"I don't know how that could have happened," I say with dry
amusement, a wry grin quirking my lips, "but I think you've
just made me love you even more."
Qui-Gon must have been in the best of mood as he decides to
needle me just for the fun of it.
"I know. I was good, wasn't I? Now tell me, Padawan. On the
scale of good, how would you rate it," smugly and flippantly,
eyes sparkling with barely suppressed mischief, "was it good
good or earth-moving good?" To really get to me, the
infuriating man with no vanity but too much wicked humour for
his own good wears a triumphant smirk on his face.
Given how the same man made me see stars behind my eyes just a
while ago, I ought to be hard pressed to wipe that smirk off
the regal, handsome face.
Good thing I've been trained by the best to roll with the
punches.
Hurriedly reining in that moon-struck, love-sick look that must
have been hitherto filling my eyes, I arch an eyebrow, a sly
grin pulling down the corners of my mouth, "well, well, well,
what do you know? Someone's a little full of himself today.
Hate to burst your bubble, Master but …. mmm, how should
I break this gently to you? Let's just say I've had better." My
head tilted to one side and nodding slowly.
Very much enjoying himself now, Qui-Gon creases his brows in
mock astonishment and returns, "mmm, that's strange, young
Benil-qur next door gave me a perfect 10 yesterday."
I remember the sinfully pretty Padawan from Aldaraan. His
delicate, angelic features, his lean nubile body, the big crush
he has on the man that shares my bed and life and the
flirtatious way that he conducts himself around that same man.
And, of course, I remember that his unit is right next to ours.
Yet I have no anxiety there. I know Qui-Gon has no desire for
Benil-qur, or for that matter, anyone else beside me. I am very
secure in the integrity of our heartbond.
But it's not everyday that Qui-Gon is having so much fun. I
decide to be the perfect bondmate and let him have his moment.
Since I don't need to fake in a certain crucial area to please
my beloved because of his sheer prowess in that area, I figure
I shouldn't mind faking a bit in other areas just so I could
make him happy. Like what I am about to do, faking being stung
by his harmless barbs.
He loves seeing me all worked up with smoke coming out of my
ears. So I'll get all smoky-headed for him.
I narrow my eyes and snarl, "you big philanderer, you'll pay
for this!" I reach down with my hand and give that pair of
heavy gems sheltered between his powerful thighs a wicked
squeeze. Qui-Gon lets out a loud yelp. Then with the help of
the Force, I flip over swiftly and straddle my lover's long
broad body across his mid-section. With a deadly, flinty gaze,
I pin the larger man underneath and roar, "Qui-Gon Jinn,
prepare for torture!" My arms shoot out fast to tickle his
sides mercilessly. Qui-Gon giggles and begins to roll and
squirm madly about trying to break free. His powerful arms soon
have mine at the wrists and attempt to hold me down, trying to
turn the table on me. We engage in a naked tug of war, each
cheating with the Force while screaming, laughing, howling,
giggling and shrieking uncontrollably in delight. An
accomplished and rigorously trained Jedi Padawan, I am no
slouch in the strength department myself. For long moments,
we're evenly matched. No mean feat on my part, considering how
incredibly strong Qui-Gon is. But inevitably, his even greater
strength and more proficient manipulation of the Force finally
prevailing, Qui-Gon subdues me and has me pinned firmly under
his large mighty frame, my arms outstretched and secured on
both sides next to my head by his iron grips.
Amusement and feral desire flashing down from his deep blue
eyes, Qui-Gon says over me theatrically, "Padawan, you know I
don't take prisoners." A low, predatory growl.
Teeth gritting and still catching my breath, I respond in
kind," take me, let me have it, Qui-Gon Jinn, right here, now,
just do it."
In no time, sweet, warm, skilful lips close over mine. I open
up hungrily to take him in. Master's deft tongue darts in to
entangle with mine. O, mmm……I know I'll never get
tired of the fabulously delicious way Qui-Gon tastes. Soon, a
scorching line of fire races south and reaches a certain point
where it starts a rapidly growing conflagration. Qui-Gon lets
go of my wrists and settles his large body gently onto me. Arms
freed, I reach out with them to close over his broad back,
fingers kneading and caressing smooth hard muscles.
My heart is singing with joy. I am going to see stars
again………..
The holoprojector chooses this moment to start chiming. Damn!
I groan and scramble to send an exasperated mental demand into
Qui-Gon's mind, my mouth and his currently occupied for a more
pleasurable exploit than articulating words.
**Ignore it, Master. Don't even think of stopping what you're
doing.**
Qui-Gon chuckles back loud into my mind, **don't be silly,
Padawan. It could be important.** But he makes no attempt to
stop. Heavenly kisses continue to rain down on my face all this
time.
I keep my eyes close for his ministrations. But somewhere along
the line, he must have spared a glance sidelong at the holopro
ID display because his kisses level off abruptly. I open my
eyes to look at him. He has already sit up and is back to his
usual calm, serene self. With an even voice, he says, "
Obi-Wan, I think you should take it. Long range holopro from
Iaatra. Must be Torant."
Thoughtfully, Qui-Gon has padded into the living chamber so
that Torant and I may have the holoconversation in the privacy
of the bed chamber.
Because it's Torant, all my guards are down. My favourite
brother and I talk on the holopro all the time. Over the years,
we have developed the habit of just calling the other one up on
the holopro for the smallest, lamest reason. It has been more
of an essential tool for bonding during my 12 years of
separation from Torant than it is now as I have already
reunited with first Torant 3 moons back and then the rest of my
family just a moon ago. But it's always a treat to visit with
my beloved kid brother.
With a light, chirping heart, I casually pull on my
underleggings and flip on the holopro without thinking.
Torant's green image stabilizes a moment later after the static
interference has cleared.
I can tell Torant must have been grinning before we made eye
contact because there's still some remnant of that left on his
face. But as soon as he sees me clearly, something is wrong.
Torant's grin freezes. He looks positively horrified. It might
be me but I could swear he almost flinches once my image comes
into his view.
Then Torant speaks and I click.
"Hi Obi, did I catch you at a bad time?" Voice small and tone
hesitant, beautiful hazel eyes sweeping left and right
worriedly. So that is it, Torant is half expecting to catch
someone he dreads as much as yearns to see showing up on the
holopro next to me -----NAKED.
I kick myself in my head hard. You idiot! Checked your brain at
the door again, didn't you? You twit! I realize then that half
naked with only underleggings on, my hair all tousled, my eyes
hazy with satiated raw desire, my face flushed, I must
look……well fucked --- by the one man Torant has
an all consuming crush on.
No wonder Torant looks horrified. No wonder he flinches at
seeing me in such a state, one that reminds him so cruelly of
what is not to be.
How can I be so thoughtless to my brother who has always been
so kind and caring towards me? Does great sex cause one's brain
to leak out one's ears?
I feel my jaw clench and with a profanity I learnt from
Coruscant's seediest ghetto still resonating in my head, I
scramble to control the damage.
"No Tori, not at all. You caught me at the perfect time. Just
got up from a nap," I throw in a yawn to make it more
convicing, " so what's up, Tori?"
Realizing that a naked Qui-Gon isn't going to prop up after
all, Torant visibly relaxes and lets on as to why we're having
this conversation.
"I just got off the holopro with Mom. Guess what, she sent me a
space ticket and asked," Torant snorts a laughter and rolls his
eyes, " what am I saying, ordered, she ordered me to fly out to
Coruscant and meet her and Lars there for the weekend. Obi,
looks like the whole family is paying you a visit."
"What!" I shriek. That was such a surprise that I reflexively
jerk up from the bed, the bedlinen pools around my bare feet in
disarray.
"How….how did that happen? What'd you say to that?" My
mind is racing a million microns a second now.
Mom and Lars are coming to Coruscant! Uninvited and, if it
hadn't been for Torant, unannounced.
That's not a visit. That's an ambush, one that's going to lead
inevitably to a showdown. My heartbond with Qui-Gon is going to
be out in the open --- because I plan for that to happen next
time I meet with my family, because I have sworn to my bondmate
that before long, I'll see to it that my family acknowledges
him. But still….still it's happening a little too fast.
I just reunited with Mom and Lars a moon ago, I…. I
didn't expect "next time" to come around so
soon……..
For a heartbeat of a moment, I am gripped by an overwhelming
sense of panic
Breath, Obi, breath. I call in the Force and my anxiety attack
quickly subsides.
"Not much I could have said, really, except yes," Torant's
reply brings me out of my frenzied reverie, "you know Mom, when
she decides on something for you, she brooks no arguments.
Besides, I like that very much. I am not about to pass up a
free chance to get together with you. It'll be a fun weekend.
And," eye's sparkling with mischief, " won't you need my help
to cover up on Qui-Gon during Mom's visit?" Torant is
positively excited about the whole idea of a trip to Coruscant.
It's his use of the expression "cover up" that does it.
Torant wasn't thinking when he said it because he doesn't fully
appreciate how much having to cover up on Qui-Gon has pained
me.
I think of Qui-Gon, my Master and my beloved bondmate.
Such a galactic hunk of a man. Magnificent in body and soul. A
legendary Jedi Master even other Jedi admire, a mighty warrior,
a highly revered diplomat, a stately guardian of peace in the
Universe, a wise, dedicated teacher in the way of the Force, a
man so kind, compassionate, and above all, noble in spirit that
he has it in him to love and cherish even the most pathetic
life forms.
He's not someone to be "covered up". No!
If anything, I should be damn proud of him and I am. I consider
it my sheer good fortune that Qui-Gon Jinn has taken me first
to be his Padawan and then his bondmate. While I'm not allowed
to run up to the summit of one of the spires of the Jedi Temple
and shout "I am so proud" for the Force and the Code forbid
conceit, I shouldn't be made to feel ashamed of it, either. Mom
and Lars can hate the Jedi Order all they want. It's their
prerogative and their choice. But Qui-Gon is not only a Jedi.
He's Obi-Wan Kenobi's life partner as well. As such, he's
entitled to his rightful place beside me in the Kenobi family.
If Mom and Lars insist on shunning him for his Jedi identity,
well, they'll have to shun me as well for I'll not have
something that is denied my beloved Qui-Gon.
In its mercurial way, Torant's words remind me of what my
priorities should be.
Mom and Lars are family, but Qui-Gon is home.
Mind set. I look at Torant with steely determination, "no,
Tori, no more cover up. I think it's time Mom and Lars found
out. I owe it to Qui-Gon. If they take it well, so much the
better. If not, too bad," I shrug, "I'd still have you. That
would be good enough for me."
Torant blinks in surprise. He then stares at me for a long
while, puzzled.
"Are you absolutely sure, Obi?" Torant finally asks, hazel eyes
bore into mine to search for any doubt or uncertainty.
There's none to be found.
"I am positive, Tori. I have not been as sure about anything
for a long, long time." I return his gaze calmly yet
resolutely, letting him know that I really do mean business.
Torant looks away.
"You love him that much." He mutters as if to himself in a
tiny, dreamy voice. A rueful grin ghosts past his lips as his
tone goes dry, "I guess with someone so fantastic, that's all
you can do, love him every which way you possibly can." A sigh
and he shifts his eyes back onto my face, "in that case, I'm
with you on this. Guess it's not going to be a fun weekend
after all."
If it hadn't been for the holoprojection, I would have rushed
forward to give my younger brother a bruising hug. What have I
done to deserve that devotion and love?
But all I can do is to return in a whisper, emotion welling up
in me," thank you Tori. The Force knows I do need all the help
you can give me. I'd feel a whole lot better with you around.
Thanks for always being there for me. Love you."
Torant beams me a fond smile.
"Anytime, and anything for my favourite brother." He says
softly using the exact same words I said to him after his
unrequited love for Qui-Gon has come to light.
"By the way, my flight leaves tomorrow for arrival in the
morning of the day after. Mom and Lars will come in in the
afternoon the same day. We'll meet them together at the
spaceport. Mom swore me to secrecy about the visit. But I guess
she knew I couldn't keep anything from you. I don't know but
there was this cheeky air about her when she spoke to me on the
holopro. Let's hope the visit is the only surprise she plans to
pull on you." Torant's lips curl downward suggesting that he is
not sure about this at all.
I groan, my eyes rolling, " O, let's hope so. As it is, I
already have a handful to tackle."
"I know, don't worry. Everything'll be fine. We'll take on Mom
and Lars together if it ever comes to that. So I'll see you in
2 days. Take care. Kisses and hugs. Say hello to Qui-Gon for
me, will you?"
"Love you, too Tori. Will do. Bye."
The green image flips out.
Heaving a heavy sigh, I slump back onto the bed. My palms come
up to cover my face. I groan loudly again. What a weekend it is
shaping up to be. Forget peace and quiet. Forget rest. Forget
any us time for Qui-Gon and me. I'd be lucky if I make it
through the next few days in one piece.
I have never had any doubt that something like this is going to
happen sooner or later. But to be absolutely honest, in spite
of my urge and determination to give Qui-Gon the status due
him, I've been subconsciously counting on it's being later
rather than sooner. I just got back with Mom and Lars. I didn't
expect to have to put all that in jeopardy again so soon.
But Qui-Gon is worth such sacrifice a hundred times over. If I
couldn't even acknowledge my own bondmate in front of my loved
ones, it'd make a mockery of the sacred life vow that I made to
cherish him and love him through thick and thin, sick and sin.
Anything for the man that IS my heart and soul. Anything for
Qui-Gon.
"Is it safe to come in?" Qui-Gon's deep voice rumbles as he
pokes his head in to check on the progress of my
holoconversation with Torant.
'Sure, all cleared." I flash him a tired grin.
Obviously concerned over my wearied look, he asks gently "is
everything okay? What did Torant say?"
"My family is coming over to visit me for the weekend. Mom,
Lars and Torant." Tone flat and listless.
It's Qui-Gon's turn to be taken slightly aback. A venerable
Jedi Master, he regains his center in a blink of an eye.
"O, that's wonderful, isn't it?" Master is aware of the
implications but he tries to be a good sport about it. "I'll
just go away for the weekend and give you and your family some
privacy."
"No, you're going nowhere, Master," I whip my head around to
lock gazes with him, "I plan to tell them." Curtly, almost
defiantly.
"Obi-Wan…."admonishing tone that says he's about to give
me a lecture.
"No, don't Obi-Wan me, Master. I swore to you I'd do it and I
mean it." Becoming vehement now.
Long moments go by before he sits his broad towering frame
gracefully down on the bed next to me, his long arm coming
across my shoulders to pull me in for a hug, "why?" very
gently, "you know you don't have to do it for me. How many
times do I have to tell you I don't matter a……,"
I reach out with a finger to lightly touch his lips to stop him
from going on, "no Qui-Gon. You matter. You matter to me very,
very much. Consider it something I do for MYSELF. My soul would
never be at peace until you're assured your rightful place in
my family. I mean it. No argument." I may have said it with a
soft voice but my tone was surgically clipped and even to drive
home to my bondmate that more serious about it I couldn't be.
And Qui-Gon knows it.
He sighs before encircling me with both his arms for a tight
embrace, his lips brushing small kisses on my forehead, "my
Obi-Wan, I must have done something very good to be blessed
with your love."
I snuggle in and whisper into his broad, solid chest, my arms
around his waist, "yes, very good, indeed. You gave me your
love and made me your bondmate. Thank you and love you, my
Qui-Gon."
I stay in his embrace for long seconds before raising my head
to drink in his rugged, handsome features again.
What a man, and all of him is mine, mine! My hand reaches out
to caress his square manly jaw, his bearded, masculine
face…….. and finds him…… hot.
Not sexy hot, but burning up.
Alarmed, I push myself away to catch a better look at him, my
hands holding his shoulders. O, he does look flushed.
"You're burning up, Qui-Gon. Are you feeling okay?" I find
myself saying worriedly, my brows furrowing, my palm feeling
his forehead.
"Why? I feel fine, except that it's a little warm in here."
Qui-Gon says non-chalantly, but his alarm is raised, too.
We exchange a glance and we both know we're worried about the
same thing.
The Next Day
Nuancha fever.
That's what Qui-Gon has come down with.
The 2nd time in six moons. The 2nd time since Naboo. It's a
legacy of the sabre wound Master has sustained there. The
terrible wound to his lung has healed. But no injury of that
horrific magnitude would fail to take its toll. Qui-Gon has
been susceptible to respiratory infections ever since.
The healers have warned us as much. Within the first year of
recuperation, we are to expect occasional, even rather
frequent, infections depending on the level of care we're
prepared to exercise over Qui-Gon' health. What is certain is
that, however careful we are, infections WILL occur. The damage
to Qui-Gon's lung was severe and the trauma from the intricate
regenerative surgery major. Both take time for the body to
neutralize. In the meantime, we will just have to settle for
Qui-Gon's immune system being relatively weakened. But thanks
to Master's overall pristine physical condition, the infections
are likely to be minor and localized. Nothing a few days of
rest and proper medication can't take care of.
Qui-Gon was running a low fever throughout last night. In the
morning, the healer came and gave him a shot. He is sound
asleep now. The healer assured me that it was only a mild case
of Nuancha fever, nothing to worry about. Just plenty of rest
and water and no oily food. The condition will clear up in a
week or so.
I stand beside the bed and bend over to feel Master's forehead
with my hand. The fever has broken. I take a towel and very
gently wipe the beads of sweat off his face, taking care not to
wake him.
Then I sit down beside the bed, my eyes caressing the beloved
face of my lover who is in peaceful slumber, his broad chest
heaving slowly and rhythmically.
I shift my gaze to stare into the air and ponder the
circumstances.
A huff of a laughter threatens to break free from me. But I
smother it with my hand over my mouth lest Qui-Gon is awaken.
Still, I am sorely tested not to burst out laughing seeing such
terrifically fantastic timing coming together.
It just keeps getting better and better. Mom and Lars are
heading in. I have a potentially volatile confrontation to plan
for and execute, and the possible nasty fallout from it to
dread and fret over --- all in a matter of days. And
now……. and now my beloved is sick. Can things be
more impeccably timed?
How the sith hell do I fit a sick bondmate into my grand scheme
of epic revelation?
**Hey, maybe I can win a couple of sympathy points with
Qui-Gon's looking drawn and pallid.**
This time a laughter does get snorted out from deep within my
chest. I must be going nuts to think of something so lame and
retarded.
O Force, how I wish Torant were here already.
The weight of this visit is crushing me. I badly need a
brotherly shoulder to lean on.
I am so glad Torant is coming in tomorrow.
Don't remember when was the last time I loved tomorrow quite so
much for its being just a day away.
The next day in early morning on an aircar from Coruscant
North Zone Intergalactic Spaceport to the Jedi Temple
It has been the 3rd time in as many moons I greeted Torant at a
spaceport. But never have I felt this before.
Relieved. Like finally seeing your co-worker showing up to take
over from you what has been a long, arduous shift.
Torant is my only and closest ally in this now. For once, even
Qui-Gon isn't as close to me where this matter is concerned.
That's a whole new experience for me and that's weird. I am not
quite used to feeling closer to anyone than Qui-Gon in
anything. But his being indisposed aside, the fact that Qui-Gon
is the very subject of this whole brewing family controversy,
and that he's not a Kenobi precludes any direct involvement of
his.
If I have to take on my family, the best thing for me is to
have someone from WITHIN to lend me a hand.
Only Torant can help me and I am so lucky that he's on my side.
Just for this once, I go into battle with Torant covering my
back.
The bruising hug I gave Torant when we met at the spaceport
already communicated eloquently the sheer sense of joy and
relief that I felt at seeing him in person.
Torant is tired out by the travel but he tries his best to pay
attention to my debriefing, only zoning out occasionally, the
minute vibration of an aircar in motion simply too conducive to
a slumber.
"That's exactly what I think. That way, if they take it bad,
they're about to leave, anyway. Saves a lot of embarrassment."
Torant says encouragingly referring to my suggestion that I
should only bare my heartbond with Qui-Gon to Mom and Lars on
the last day of the visit, thereby shortening the time of
agony, if it goes sour, and giving everyone at least a few days
of peace on Coruscant before all hells break loose.
Heartened, I settle back and breathe a sigh of relief.
"But do you think they'll take it well?" I glance sidelong at
him, "I really don't know Mom and Lars well enough. They don't
care for the Jedi. That I realize. But how much do they not
care for the Jedi? Enough to go ballistic over this bond
between me and Qui-Gon?" Almost wincing in advance, I brace
myself for an answer I wouldn't care to hear.
"Well….." Torant pauses as he becomes ponderous, neither
wanting to quash my hopes nor give me false ones, perhaps.
"It's okay, Tori. You can tell me." I prompt him.
"I think Lars is alright. He won't do anything. Mom is the
tough one here." Torant shakes his head slowly and wears a
small rueful grin on his face.
"Her not liking the Jedi is one thing. But there's more. Ever
since the last time on Yuumin, she has developed a fervent
interest in your love life as she has in mine and in Lars'
before. Trying to fix you up with Mirkae looks to be only the
beginning. And you have to understand, being from Yuumin, which
is hopelessly provincial, she has a rigid mindset on how a
bonded couple should be. You know, two people of the same age
and opposite gender. She just might not take it so well if she
knows you're bonded with a Jedi Master who's a man and not your
age." Torant tries hard to soften it for me by being
matter-of-factly about it.
"So basically, I score a triple-parter here with Qui-Gon. He's
a Jedi, a man and one that's old enough to be my father." I
could almost laugh at how much I like my chances.
"Basically yes, that's my guess, but there's hope," Torant
hurries to reassure me, his hand squeezing my arm in
encouragement, "she will not like it, that's for sure. But that
doesn't mean you'll have to scrape her off the ceiling, either.
There's a big difference between not caring for and hate the
guts of. If her coming around for you is anything to go by,
there's a soft spot in her somewhere. She isn't as tough as she
comes across. You just have to find the chink in her armour,
and when you do, work it until she cracks. We did it once. We
just might pull it off a second time. Besides,"
Torant turns his eyes to gaze ahead, his voice a tad flinty
now,
"it's a matter of principle. The bottom line is the recognition
is rightfully Qui-Gon's. If they can't give it to you, that's
too bad. Mother and son is a two way street. The best you can
and should do is to meet them half way. I think you've already
gotten your priorities straight. Qui-Gon always comes first."
Torant shifts his gaze back on me, hazel eyes radiating support
and warmth.
For a split second, I am speechless. Who would have thought my
kid brother has grown up to be such a fine, mature young man.
Such words of wisdom. It seems only a while ago that I was
looking out for my shy, scrawny brother left and right. And
now, he's strong, intelligent and loving enough to gather me
under his wings.
"O Tori, you have no idea how much that means to me. I am so
happy you're in my corner." I reach forward to give him a big
hug. Torant hugs me back, his hand patting my back fondly.
I bask in the glow and mirth of our brotherly bond, feeling
calm and serene for the first time since I learnt of my
family's visit.
At the Coruscant North Zone Intergalactic Spaceport again with
Torant in late afternoon to pick up the rest of the family
The flight has landed for some time. They are due out anytime
now.
I am about to finish up a mental chat with Qui-Gon.
I opened our mindlink to see how he's doing while waiting for
my family to clear formalities. I miss him. Having to pick
Torant up and settle him in, I have been out all day only
returning to our quarters briefly to check on him. But he was
sleeping then. I can't help but be a bit worried. While not
exactly lethal, Nuancha fever is nonetheless a big nuisance as
it snaps your strength, confines you to bed and renders you
generally miserable until it has run its course. Qui-Gon has
literally slept the past day and a half off. Since Torant is
staying at a guest lodge that Lars has booked for the family,
he hasn't even met him yet.
**I am fine, Obi-Wan. I can feel my strength returning. Don't
you worry about me. You have a family to greet. Now go on
already. I'll be well in no time. And say hello to Torant for
me.** Qui-Gon growls with ill-concealed impatience and snaps
the mindlink shut.
He tried gamely to assure me but I know better. Even his mental
voice sounded wearied. It'll be a while before he's well again.
Qui-Gon is nothing if not stubborn. Running off like that. I
shake my head and muse with a rueful smile. It's so like him.
He hates it when I fuss over him and he hates it more when he
thinks he has become a burden that distracts me from my family.
"Speaking with Qui-Gon?" Torant asks, grinning. He has been
around us long enough to pick up those signs of a mental
communion. The looking but not seeing eyes, the frozen face.
"Mmm, basically waved me away. Stubborn like a Bantha, and
cranky, too. Said hello to you, though" I say, pouting.
Torant chuckles. "So he's better?"
"Auh, auh," head shaking, "I wish. It'll take a while. He's not
as robus….."
All of a sudden, Torant's eyes grow sharp as he exclaims, "O,
there they are."
I follow his eyes to catch Mom and her entourage trotting out
of Spaceport Controls and head towards us.
Torant and I both start waving frantically. Engaging smiles
splattered across our faces.
Mom's group wave back enthusiastically. Everyone beaming.
Without even knowing it, I begin a head count. Mom, Lars, his
wife, Petrae, their two kids, Reina and Nana….and
…my eyes narrow, there's someone else, just a step
behind Petrae. Who could it b……. Then I hear
Torant sucks in his breath softly. A half second later, so do
I.
Mirkae Simone.
What the sith hell is she doin…….Oh
no…..no, no, no. Mom, how could you? I glance sidelong
at Torant. Looking glasses separating us. Torant's grin decays
into something ghastly. I can only assume what's on my face
looks even worse.
"You're just great at keeping secrets, aren't you, Tori? I knew
you'd blow this visit on Obi. Good thing I haven't told you
everything." Giving Torant a hearty hug, Mom says in mock
outrage, her amused glare darting between Torant and Mirkae.
I was busy hugging Lars, Petrae and the kids as Mom's strident
voice flooded my ears. I then extend an arm to shake hands with
Mirkae. Petrae's younger sister steps forward and gives my hand
a cursory squeeze, her eyes avoiding mine all the time except
for one stolen, furtive glance. As our eyes touch, hers flit
away as if scorched, her face flushing crimson right away.
What's in that glance makes me flinch.
Force, there's infatuation there.
My heart goes out to her. What a young, bashful kid. I didn't
spend too much time with her on Yuumin the last time. But Mom
has concocted enough lame excuses to bring us together that I
did get to know her a little.
About Torant's age, Mirkae is a Tertiality student sharing a
wealthy family with her older sister, Petrae Simone who happens
to be my sister in law by virtue of her marriage to Lars. When
I was on Yuumin reuniting with my family, Mom acquired the
nutty idea of matchmaking between me and her. Everyone threw
themselves into it saved Torant. Mirkae was interested. She has
made it rather clear on Yuumin --- in spite of her painfully
shy personality. I like her, too. She has a good heart, gentle
in her manners, perpetually smiling and has her feet firmly on
the ground despite her well-off background. And she's pretty as
well. Feminine figure that's slender and graceful augments a
sweet, round face of good proportions with exquisite features.
But of course, it was not to be. My heart and soul is somewhere
else altogether. I tried to be polite and friendly without
leading anyone on while secretly thanking the Force for Mom's
thinking of it only during the last 2 days of my visit. I
figured once I left Yuumin. The whole thing would blow over.
Little did I know.
I can't help but getting annoyed at Mom's impetuosity for
unless I am wrong, which is not likely given what happened on
Yuumin, Mirkae's presence here has Mom's finger prints all over
it .
Who does she think she is? Running others' lives as if she's
some kind of fate-molding deity. And the worst thing is, she
runs them with such ill-founded presumption and dreadfully
misplaced conviction, leaving behind her a trail of innocent
victims. Like sweet, young Mirkae.
Like my plan of grand revelation.
Have to think twice now that a whole new element in the shape
of Mirkae is introduced into the picture. I have Mirkae's
feelings to worry about. If I go public on my heartbond with
Qui-Gon like I plan, I fear that Mirkae's pride would be hurt
grievously.
"Come give your Mother a hug, Obi." Mom's vivacious beckoning
stops my racing mind in its track.
Smile, Obi, smile. I draw onto the Force to tamp down my dark
feelings of resentment before stepping up to take Mom into my
arms.
I take a deep breath as Mom's petite figure settles in my
embrace, her fiery red hair just lightly touching my chin. With
more than a bit of stiffness, I raise my arms to close around
her slender shoulders.
It's not the first time we hug. Yet, it still feels strange as
if it had never happened before. The smell, the touch, the way
our arms crisscross, the very mixed feelings it engenders.
This is the woman who gave birth to me, whose blood I share.
Then I think of her cruel husband, the decent way Torant and
Lars have turned out under her care, that fact that in all the
12 years I was with her before being taken to the Jedi Temple,
I never once went hungry, no matter how hard the family
struggled. And I see the myriad lines etched into her face, one
that was once young and even pretty, but is now very much
showing the strain of time and an unforgiving life.
My mother is not getting any younger. It hits me.
Inexplicable tenderness wells up from deep inside me to
gradually warm my limbs and heart. I loosen up and hug her in
earnest. Some spontaneity at last.
But again, Mom seems to bend on testing the limits of my
endurance.
Once we break free from each other's hug, she says casually as
if in afterthoughts, "O by the way, Obi, just so we understand
each other up front, I know this is your turf and everything
but I'd appreciate it if I didn't have to meet any of your Jedi
connections, including that Master person. They rather spook
me," she makes a face that fails to look cute, "I am sure you'd
understand, son." Sporting a big sugary grin on her face, she
pats my face twice with her palm and whirls away before even
waiting for my response.
I blink and drop my jaws in astonishment. Not quite knowing how
to react to such callus demand and lack of good grace. The
woman is unbelievable!
"Well, let's all go." She claps her hands a couple of times to
underline her order, "good heavens, I am totally beat."
But that's not the last of her orders.
"Obi, why don't you help Mirkae with her bags. Give'em to him,
Mirkae. He's a Jedi guy. They're all very strong."
"Come away from Obi, Tori. Don't follow your brother around.
Come here, I need to talk to you"
"Petrae, come on, leave your sister to Obi. Don't worry about
her. Obi will take care of her. Won't you, Obi?"
A sworn enemy of subtlety. That's what Mom is.
Even Mirkae finds her tactless transparency painfully
embarrassing. She gives me a look that's a cross between
plaintive and apologetic. I return with a wry grin that results
in a tiny smile of rapport being shared between us.
Torant shoots me a covert, sympathetic glance before being led
away by Mom.
Force, don't I just love-hate the woman. My jaws clench hard.
An auspicious start it has NOT been. At the dry thought, I
fight down the urge to pull out my Padawan braid, let out a
long sigh, pick up Mirkae's bags and follow the group out under
Mom's matriarchal lead.
I spend the better part of next day showing them around.
It's everyone's first time on Coruscant, the very political and
financial power centre of the entire Galaxy. So there's an
obligatory tourist routine to complete. The cryptically
ethereal Jedi Temple Compound, the majestic and lavishly
appointed Grand Senate Hall, the elegant Chancellor's Court,
the gargantuan AeroMega, which is a town size super mall
suspended in mid air by massive gravity repulsors. The facility
is so mind-boggling huge that it requires indoor air car
service to go from one shopping zone to another.
An air-car is taking us back to the guest-lodge for late
afternoon refreshments after a flurry of activities and places
covered in the morning and early afternoon.
Everyone is suitably impressed and having a reasonably good
time. Or so I think, which could well be wrong --- because I
really couldn't be bothered to find out one way or the other.
The truth is I have been terribly distracted. My heart is not
in it at all. I am just going through the motion.
It's Qui-Gon.
Again, my recalcitrant bondmate has shut me out by closing off
all mental link with me. I called him up umpteen times, each
time it met a wall. Just his crazy idea that so doing would
allow me to concentrate on my family instead of getting me
worried ten times more. What'd he get that, I don't know!
Worse, Guilt is eating me alive.
I keep seeing what happened last night. It's tattooed to my
mind
When I got back to our quarters late last night after seeing my
family settled in at their guest lodge, Qui-Gon was again
asleep --- not in our bed, but sprawled out on the lounger in
our living chamber. Half empty instant food cartons littered
the stool and the dinner table. Qui-Gon looked flushed and sure
enough was running a low fever again. His long hair was damp
from profuse sweating and was plastered to the sides of his
face. An injection gun rested on the floor next to the lounger,
evidence that Qui-Gon gave himself a shot the healer left for
us to administer at home before drifting into slumber.
A sight that sent a dagger clean through my heart.
**O love, what have I done to you.**, I exclaimed. My bondmate
was sick and I left him to his devices and instant food! My
beautiful Master and love and I neglected him as if he didn't
matter. Tears stung the back of my eyes instantly, and a moment
later blurred my view as I hurriedly helped Qui-Gon up on his
feet so that I could settle him back in our bed. True to form,
Qui-Gon tried to fight me again after waking insisting that he
was fine. But the fever got the better of him, soon he was too
tired to do anything except glaring at me and letting me tend
to him.
It was two in the morning when I finally hit the bed, but only
after scrub-bathing Qui-Gon with a bath cloth soaked with warm
water, changing him into dry, clean undertunnic and leggings
and cooking a whole day's worth of light, bland, oil-free food
for his consumption the next day.
I didn't snuggle in for fear of interrupting Qui-Gon's slumber.
But my heart was too lacerated for me to sleep totally apart
from my love. So I gently held his large hand in mine. It felt
clammy and cool. A tweezer went left and right in my belly
afresh. I remembered Torant's praise that I had gotten my
priorities straight. The question was, had I?
"Obi, OBI !" distant barking pulls me back to the here and
now. I turn my head to see Mom glaring at me, her entire face
schooled to scream "am irritated with you".
"Where were you? Mirkae said she would love to see the night
bazaar of Coruscant tonight. You will take her there, won't
you?" An instruction dressed up like a request, and only
shoddily.
I open my mouth to say something and I catch Torant's eyes.
Ones that are filled with understanding and support. He is the
only one who knows AND understands what going on with me.
PRIORITIES. Again what he said about them explodes into my
mind.
Priorities. It's time to get them straight.
"I apologize for not being myself, Mirkae. And I'd love to take
you to the night bazaar but I can't. I have to be at home
tonight to look after my Master. He's sick. I am worried about
him." I say quickly, my eyes on Mirkae the whole time,
steadfastly refusing to acknowledge Mom and let her into this
exchange. The message being this is strictly between Mirkae and
me.
Out of one corner of my eye, I catch Mom's face changing colour
into that of an angry storm.
To Mirkae's full credit, far from being stung by my gentle
rejection, she asks after Qui-Gon, geniune concern filling her
voice, "O, I am sorry. I hope we are not keeping you from
anything. Is your Master Okay?"
"It's not serious. Just a mild infection. But he is running a
fever. I don't want to take any chances. Anyway, I am his
apprentice. It's my duty to tend to him when he's in need." I
say softly and look at her with gratitude, hoping to
communicate my appreciation of her kindness.
"So you won't be joining us for dinner tonight." Mom's low,
flinty voice is menacing. "Can't your Master take care of
himself just for one night. He's an adult. You said it wasn't
serious."
I have to actually claw hard on my thigh to keep myself from
saying something not worthy of a Jedi. But I manage. I say
instead with a level but clipped voice, "I don't want to chance
it. He's still recuperating from a serious injury. He needs
me."
But my icy stare, I can do nothing about. Perhaps that's what
convinces Mom that I am nowhere near the mood to brook an
argument.
It's confirmed a second later as I instruct the pilot, " please
take me to the Jedi Temple after the Nova Guest Lodge."
Turns out Qui-Gon has become much better during the day. His
fever has come down and doesn't look likely to be resurfacing.
His strength gradually returns. His damp, sickly flushed
complexion has gone replaced by a faint pink. And the best sign
is that his appetite is more or less back to normal.
The healer is right. It's a mild infection. And Qui-Gon, after
all, is a strong guy.
He's reading a datadisk when I come back home. Force, isn't
that a most beautiful sight to greet my eyes. My bondmate
recovering nicely. What a sharp contrast with the depressing
scene of the night before.
He is still tired, though. 2 days worth of fever is bound to
leave some mark.
He chides me gently for leaving my family for him. But knowing
me, someone who learns the steeliest brand of pig-headedness
from a true Master, he lets me go after a long sigh, but not
before brushing a loving kiss on my cheek.
We sit down to a completely tasteless dinner. Qui-Gon grimaces
at the oil-free dishes which he compares graphically to chewing
on bark. He vows to revert to full-blooded, hi-grease,
hi-protein, hi-everything diet for a whole week, starting
tomorrow.
I chuckle and say, "you'll just turn anything into an excuse to
go on a binge, won't you."
Qui-Gon laughs heartily.
Force, how I love to see him kicking and laughing and well
again.
I still have no qualms at leaving my family for Qui-Gon now
that I know he's been quite alright all along. If my heart is
singing with joy and relief as I am now, I must be at the right
place and doing the right thing.
After supper, I clear the dishes and lose myself in the kitchen
taking care of them. Qui-Gon has enough strength left to watch
a bit of holovid.
The door chime rings.
As the door swishes open, a most unlikely visitor is revealed.
Mirkae.
When I trot out from the kitchen, I see Qui-Gon and Mirkae are
already exchanging pleasantries. I hurriedly join them and
exclaim, "what a surprise, Mirkae. Come in and take a seat.
What's up? Is everything Okay?"
Before she can reply, Qui-Gon cuts in swiftly, "I'll leave you
guys to it. I'll be in my chamber." Meticulous as always, my
bondmate says totally matter-of-factly, taking care to bury any
trace of intimacy between us.
"Oh please stay, Master Qui, is it? I am here to see you,
really. Obi told us you were sick. I thought I dropped by to
see how you're doing." Mirkae says quickly and bashfully, her
face already blushing. "By the way, mmm, I got the locator of
your place from the guest lodge. I came by aircar." Obviously
anticipating that the information would be sought by us sooner
or later, she volunteers it in haste.
Translation : No one knows she came here.
"O why, thank you. I am much better now. And please call me
Qui-Gon." My bondmate's deep silky voice rumbles cheerfully.
I am not so dense as to miss the nuances of all of this. Mirkae
is a kind person. But no one is THAT kind. She is here as much
to see me as she is to visit with my sick Master.
I'll just have to deal with it with tact and maturity.
Qui-Gon is a great help. The worst of the ailment behind him
now, The man is once again himself, only someone with plenty of
natural charm and quirky humour.
It's not wasted on Mirkae, as surprisingly, once warmed to her
partners, she proves herself to be an intelligent and
thoughtful conversationalist, one that's able to roll with
what's thrown at her with sensitivity and dexterity. And
Qui-Gon's abundant charisma happens to be the perfect warming
tool.
We chat, we laugh, we eat, we drink. All in a merry spirit. The
evening passes like a breeze. Mirkae is so taken to Qui-Gon's
captivating ways that they have fast become good friends and I
am beginning to suspect she just might change allegiance when
it comes to the object of her infatuation.
Soon, it's time for her to leave. As it's rather late, I can't
very well have a young lady travelling back alone in a
sprawling metropolis. So I volunteer to take her home.
She becomes strangely quiet once we're alone in the aircar. She
trains her eyes dead on the rapidly moving scenery outisde with
an enigmatic, forlorn look on her face.
We sit in silence for a long while.
"You do know I am attracted to you, don't you, Obi?" Literally
out of the blue and blunt as the end of a hammer, the question
catches me totally off guard. I can't help but whip my head
around to stare at her.
It must be really important to her if she is willing to
suppress her shyness and be so bold and direct about it.
"Well…."
She doesn't wait for a proper reply before going on, probably
because the one word I uttered is as good as a yes.
"But it's not going to be, is it?" Her gaze still locked onto
the scene outside.
By now, I have regained enough of my composure to engage in a
meaningful conversation.
"Your interest flatters me, Mirkae. It really does. You're such
a sweet, kind person. And you're beautiful lady. But all my
love is taken." I say slowly and gently.
"It's Master Qui-Gon, isn't it?" She shifts her gaze to her
hands steepled across her lap before lifting it to rest on my
face squarely.
I stare at her, utterly astounded. How did she find out? I
thought Master and I were discreet back there. There must be
more to Mirkae than meets the eyes. I already know her to be
sharp and intelligent, but this, this is close to
Force-Sensitivity.
We look at each other for long seconds as thoughts become
gradually transparent between us. The answer is crystal clear.
I nod slowly.
"I knew it," she shrugs, "the way you looked at him just now.
The joy and sparkle in your eyes. Only love can put it there,"
a sigh, "I suspected as much this morning when you were talking
about him. The vehemence, the intensity. Again, you wouldn't be
like that unless the person holds your heart."
" I didn't know it showed that much." I remark dryly.
As if not hearing me, she snorts out a laugh and says with a
faraway voice more to herself than anyone else, her eyes
turning dreamy, "How can I compete with him? He's got it all,
the body, the mind, the soul. I knew my chances were blown once
I caught sight of him. He's so handsome and he's got the brain
to match. And he loves you very much, too. He's a tough act to
follow. Can't blame you for falling for him. He's pretty hard
to resist."
"I know, he's fantastic. I consider myself very fortunate to be
given his love." That's all I can think of to say. I know
there's no cause for it but I somehow feel guilty towards her.
My eyes must have said as much.
"That's okay, Obi. As long as I know who am I losing you to and
that I didn't fail for want of trying." Her flighty voice
tinted with sadness, she turned her eyes to gaze out the window
of the aircar again.
She's such a marvellous person. Compassionate, thoughtful,
smart and wise beyond her years. She deserves to be happy as
well. I want badly to hug her. But I know better. So I just pat
the back of her hand and say earnestly, " you're fantastic
yourself Mirkae. I mean it. Believe me if you believe nothing
else, you'll find someone 10 times better than me."
She puts on a brave smile, gives me a grateful glance and says,
"I doubt it but thank you, Obi. You hold on to your Master. A
great man like him is hard to find."
Maybe it's only the reflection of Coruscant's nightlight, I am
not sure, but her eyes are glittering like diamonds.
Later that night, I lie in bed flat on my back, my eyes
staring at the ceiling, my hands steepled across my stomach,
and with a voice calm to the point of toneless, I say to the
man who shares my bed," Master, time to meet my family
tomorrow."
"As long as you believe it's the right thing to do, Padawan. I
am ready." His large hand moves over to take mine into its
warm, broad, callused grip. I bring his hand up and brush a
feathery kiss on the back of it.
With Mirkae already aware of my heartbond with Qui-Gon, my fear
of hurting her no long exists. The way is thus cleared for me
to present Qui-Gon to the family as my lifemate. And the timing
is right. The family is leaving the day after tomorrow. Dinner
tomorrow which is like a farewell occasion is, therefore, a
perfect opportunity.
I sigh, not out of sadness or anxiety but a sense that
everything that should be done has been. I have traveled my
share of the journey to meet Mom half way. The rest is up to
her.
Maybe that's why I feel curiously serene even without the help
of the Force. Maybe deep down, I know that whatever happens,
it's okay because I have got my priorities straight. I can't go
terribly wrong if I have done that.
But one thing I neglect to factor into my letter-perfect plan
of revelation is that there may be another script for events to
follow other than mine. Someone else may have a script of her
own, someone who's feisty, headstrong, stubborn, impulsive, a
born matriarch, someone who wears her heart on her
sleeves……..
Someone like Mom.
I am due to meet up with the family at around noon to begin the
day. So Qui-Gon and I take things really easy in the morning.
I am grateful for the extra respite. Perfect to get myself
mentally ready for the big event tonight.
Qui-Gon and I meditate together at the East Garden of the
Temple, followed by an hour of light kata exercise. Then we
walk back to our quarters hands entwined.
It's already late morning. Qui-Gon has just come out of the
fresher and is getting changed in the bed chamber. I am setting
the table for a simple breakfast of bread and cereal when the
door chime goes on.
And it goes on in a rage, angry and incessant. I palm it open
and I know why. A very upset person is on the other side of the
door.
Mom, with Lars just a pace behind her.
I am taken by surprise to say the least. What brings them here
and why Mom's eyes are shooting daggers?
Mom storms in. Lars follow much more sedately, his eyes
expressionless.
"Sit down, please. Is anything wrong?" I gesture at the sofa.
Still totally at a loss as to what's amiss.
Mom whirls around without taking a seat. "You tell me, Obi.
What did you do to Mirkae?" Her eyes spewing raw anger.
Oh that. I am beginning to have an inkling where this is
heading. But still too many missing pieces.
"What about Mirkae? Is she alright?" I am genuinely worried.
Mirkae may have seemed to take what happened last night well.
But you never know.
"She took the early morning flight out, leaving words that
she's not well. But that's not it, is it, Obi? She came to see
you last night, didn't she? What did you do to her?" She
narrows her eyes and rapid-fires.
"How did you know she was here?" That's the wrong thing to say
because it makes it look as if I have something to hide and am
getting defensive because of it. But I am truly dying to know.
The sneer on her face clearly says she thinks she has me right
where she wants me. With ice in her voice, she throws out the
details, glee overflowing from her eyes, "Petrae said Mirkae
was out all night. She checked on her. I checked with the front
desk this morning. They said Mirkae asked for direction to the
Jedi Temple."
Alright, fair enough. My curiosity satisfied, I find myself
ready to settle down and come to grip with the situation on
hand. So Mom is out for blood for her failed matchmaking and
Lars, apparently is dragged into it for Mom needs an escort.
It doesn't fluster me at all. I am assured and composed. After
all, I have done absolutely nothing wrong.
"Mirkae did drop by for a visit. She wanted to see how Master
was doing. She stayed for a bit and in the end I took her back
to the guest lodge." I lock gazes with Mom, all calm and cool.
"Oh really," she arches an eyebrow, "but there was more, wasn't
there? You must have done something to her to make her flee
like a wounded animal. Too ashamed to say it, Obi? Well, let me
say it for you. You turned her away. She came to show her love
and you turned her away. Didn't you?" Practically yelling now.
It was what happened in a nutshell. But she makes it sound so
graceless and pathetic, especially for Mirkae's part. But it
was not like that. Not at all.
Even if I were to swallow the half truth, I owe it to Mirkae to
clear her name. She has been so gracious with me, I can't allow
it when she is made out to be some sad unwanted bimbo.
"We discussed our feelings. She did let me know how she felt
about …….." I stop. My eyes staring blankly. All
of a sudden hit by a momentous realization.
The way the conversation is going, I don't have to wait for
dinner to unveil my heartbond with Qui-Gon. In fact, it could
come straight out into the open when I come to the next few
lines I am going to utter, unless of course, I fudge things and
do some fancy verbal acrobatics.
I huff a laughter. Well, no time better than now. Mom and Lars
are both here. And so is Qui-Gon.
"Go on, Obi. What's holding you back? Not guilt I hope." Mom
snorts impatiently.
I smile. That causes Mom to put on a quizzical look.
"No, not guilt, Mom." I shake my head. "Mirkae let me know how
she felt. I told her it flattered me but I couldn't accept it
because my love, all of it, already belonged to another one.
And may I add Mirkae was very dignified and gracious about it.
She is one fine lady. I respect her."
The question "who?" hangs in the air, massive, thick and heavy,
filling it with palpable volatility.
But I end the suspense I created.
"Master, could you come out here, please."
Qui-Gon emerges gracefully from our bed chamber and stands
beside me. He gives me a fond, reassuring smile. He's dressed
in the best of his modest wardrobe. The hoodless turquoise robe
with matching sash he reserves for very special occasions over
a silk beige tunic with same tone leggings.
I almost laugh at Master's comically quick thinking. The man
must have caught much of our exchange and has decided to dress
up just for the eventuality of finally meeting his in-laws.
But as I bit down the laughter, my hilarity is fast replaced by
pride.
Qui-Gon looks magnificent. Tall, straight, broad, handsome,
proud, and totally dauntless, yet so at ease that there's no
aggression about him. The man radiates a stately, even
aristocratic presence. He does me proud.
My bondmate. Finally I am able to present him to my family with
joy and pride and just a fair amount of trepidation.
I take a deep breath. Then I take Qui-Gon's hand in mine and
turn to say to Mom and Lars, "Mom and Lars, meet Qui-Gon Jinn,
my Master, lover and bondmate for life. Qui-Gon, meet Sudsa and
Lars-Owen Kenobi, Mother and older brother."
I have done it. Anything goes now.
Qui-Gon nods and smiles before saying warmly, "How do you do,
Mrs. Kenobi and Mr. Kenobi." But he doesn't extend his arm for
a handshake, not sure whether it would be brushed aside.
Long silence.
I can tell Mom is in shock. She has that blank look in her
eyes. She keeps staring at me. Her mouth slightly ajar
stupidly. Lars eyes are both narrowed and hooded. But he's
still difficult to read.
"Are you alright, Mom? Do you want to sit down?" I ask gently,
the possibility of her passing out from shock very much on my
mind.
That's the spark it takes to blow up the room.
She explodes, "don't you Mom me. Are you mad? He's a man,
he's…," her hands gesturing frantically at Qui-Gon,
"……he's old enough to be your Father for crying
out loud. What's gotten into you? O, for heaven's sake, is that
how you want to go through life? Live in shame and be childless
to the end. Because I am telling you, "her eyes blazing with
rage, her teeth gritting, "if that's how you want your life to
be, count me out. I want no part of it!"
All of a sudden I realize I am ill-prepared for a confrontation
with unmitigated provinciality of this sort. I may have done
little else for moons beside thinking about and planning and
rehearsing for this showdown. But when the chips are down, and
naked narrow-mindedness and raw bigotry is thrown at me, I
don't know where to begin a defense. It's like when someone
challenges you out of sheer stupidity on something that is a
simple, plain truth, you'd be at a loss as to where to begin to
explain to him something so obvious and transparent.
I blink a couple of times and say the only thing that comes to
mind, "There's no shame in true love. Qui-Gon and I love each
other very much." Qui-Gon squeezes my hand to nudge me on.
That only serves to incense Mom even further. She shifts her
fire, "it's him, right? He seduced you." She turns her head and
points her finger at Qui-Gon, "you seduced my son, you old
lecher."
That touches my raw nerve. She can abuse me all she wants but
I'll be damned if I stand there and watch my beloved being
subject to such verbal scourging.
"Enough, Mom." My eyes flinty and my voice dangerously low, "I
expect you to show a little respect for my bondmate. And
Qui-Gon hasn't seduced me."
"Respect, you're a fine one to talk about respect." Mom snarls,
"What you're doing shames your own Mother. And don't justify
his abominable act. It's pathetic."
That's it! No one calls my bondmate abominable and gets away
with it. And what really enrages me is that Mom senses that
Qui-Gon is my weak spot and she cruelly nails it just to spill
my blood.
My heart is sinking fast as I witness an irreparable rift
developing between me and my own Mother. Things are quickly
reaching the point of no return. All my worst fears seem to be
coming true. Moons of planning and preparation going down the
drain. I feel the stab of a small but sharp sadness deep within
me.
But there's nothing I can do once my bottom line is breached.
Family or no family.
If I have gone without a Mom for 12 years and survived, I can
do it again.
My eyes and voice turned to ice, I growl my lines out, word by
word, "Mom, if you can't respect my beloved, then you have no
business in my home. I am going to have to ask you to leave.
For your information, Qui-Gon hasn't seduced me. I seduced him.
I have had a crush on him ever since I was in my teens. So get
your facts straight before you go around calling people
abominable."
Two can play the same game. That last bit is cruel and meant to
draw blood. Unworthy of a Jedi. I feel a tiny prick of guilt
for ruthlessly going after my own Mother like that.
Mom blinks in utter surprise. Her jaws drop, apparently shocked
by my confession and embittered that she's about to be thrown
out by her own son.
Long moments go by when Mom only glares at me, her face
screaming fury, hurt and resentment. Her entire petite body
wound up tight in raw tension.
Finally, with head held high and a deep breath inhaled, she
says with a voice laced with bitterness and sacarsm, "very
well, it was nice meeting you, Obi. Lars, let's go. We are not
welcomed here."
She marches out with heavy stomping steps. Lars, who hasn't
said a word so far, gives me a deep, meaningful look and -----
stays put.
Mom snaps her head around and shrieks, "Lars, I said go. What
are you're waiting for." But sensing that the tide maybe taking
an terribly wrong turn for her, Mom's eyes are widened and her
voice takes on an edge of panic.
Lars presses his lips into a thin line, his green eyes darken a
shade. For the first time since he came here, his eyes are
saying something. The man is confused and indignant, sure, to
be expected, he must be mad at me for defying Mom, but there's
more, there's conflict, sadness……and compassion
as well.
Instinctively, my heart leaps at this half promise of hope.
Maybe not all is lost. Maybe Lars is more than I make him out
to be.
Time seems to stand still before Lars opens his mouth to speak.
The air is frozen as the four of us form a tableau of stalemate
and suspense.
"No, Mom," Lars shakes his head slowly, " this is not right."
With a low, hoarse voice, Lars finally says, his eyes pained.
The man is torn between his sense of loyalty and his sense of
justice.
Mom's mouth is in the shape of an "O", but words elude her as
events take a surreal twist and she isn't even sure what hits
her.
I squeeze Master's hand hard without even knowing it until I
have done it. I turn my head to exchange a disbelieving look
with Qui-Gon and see the same incredulity glinting off his
eyes.
"Listen Mom, I don't understand it, either." Lars is pleading
earnestly now, his brows furrowed with gravity. "But Obi is
family, he's my brother. If he finds someone to love, and who
loves him back. That's good enough for me. I don't need to
understand it to accept it."
He pauses to take a deep breath, turns towards me and says
slowly, "Obi, we don't know each other very well. And I have
never been good with words. I don't understand your order, your
relationship with your Master and everything. But you're my
brother, nothing is going to change that. If you say you've
found happiness, I'll be willing to be happy for you," he then
shifts his gaze towards Qui-Gon, his eyes narrowed, his voice
low but weighty, " and Master Qui, I see my brother loves you
very much. Fair enough. But you'd do well to make yourself
deserve that love. We Kenobis don't take kindly to people who
mistreat one of us. But until then, welcome to the family."
Lars steps forth to extend a hand towards Qui-Gon. My bondmate
reaches out gracefully with his to give Lars a solid, earnest
shake. As the two men lock gazes, I see a moment of pure
rapport passing between them.
Lars gives me another deep, intense look before turning towards
Mom and says, "Mom, let's go."
What Lars says touches the very depth of my soul. Such love and
support from the least expected quarters. A thousand emotions
roil up in me to overload my senses. I have been quite
speechless and must have been looking dazed for sometime. But
Lars' imminent departure jerks me out of my mental inertia.
"Lars…..I….," I hurriedly call out to him but
words are so inadequate when what I really want to do is to
give my older brother with a quietly noble heart a bruising
embrace, " thank you." I manage at last, not knowing what else
to say, something warm is prickling my eyes already.
Lars gives me a nod and a wearied smile.
Mom has been relegated to the side as Lars takes over to make a
stand. She has since been watching helplessly the unfolding of
events, which goes totally against her.
She can take no more finally.
"Oh, just great," Mom grinds out her words from between her
teeth, head nodding sacarstically, "such brotherly bond touches
me. Ganging up against your own Mom now, aren't you?. Well
done, you ought to be proud of yourselves!" She spits those
words out against us and storms out without waiting for Lars.
"Mom, wait." Lars calls and runs out after her.
As the door swishes close behind him, I suddenly feel spent,
not only emotionally, but physically as well.
I let go of Qui-Gon's hand, trot to the sofa and slump into it
heavily. Qui-Gon sits down beside and takes me into his arms. I
press my face against his broad chest and sigh deeply.
I have been so wrong about Lars. I have dismissed him for being
dour, dull, taciturn and devoid of imagination. Who would have
thought he has a heart of gold underneath all that. I feel more
than a little ashamed of myself.
"You know what, Padawan?" Qui-Gon mutters against the top of my
head. "I know where Torant gets his kindness and compassion. It
runs in the family."
I lift my eyes to look at him. I see my smile reflected in his
eyes, "yes, love, it's in the family." I sigh again and snuggle
in, slowly feeling warm, safe and at home again in his powerful
arms.
Epilogue
Coruscant North Zone Intergalactic Spaceport
"This is the final call for Yuumin Spaceway flight 488,
departing for Yuumin via Tirius Minor. Will passengers please
proceed to the assigned gate for boarding immediately."
I straighten from a kneeling position in which I have been
keeping Lars' 2 kids entertained with Torant's help. Qui-Gon is
standing next to me talking to Lars. The air has been stiff and
frigid to put it mildly as Mom and I have been avoiding each
other ever since we met the group at the spaceport. Mom has
been on the far side with Petrae all along.
That's it. Mom and I are going to walk away angry at each
other. I lament.
Then out of the corner of my eyes, I catch her approaching ---
not me, but Qui-Gon.
My alarm is raised. I watch her intently with widened eyes, not
sure what to expect.
Torant is staring at her, all stiffened. Qui-Gon and Lars have
stopped talking to focus on her approach.
Mom stops in front of Qui-Gon and lifts her head to gaze at
him. My bondmate is ever serene. He locks gazes with Mom,
unflinching but admirably calm.
There's so much in Mom's eyes. But hate is not among them.
After a long, long while, Mom's gaze finally softens. She
lowers her eyes for a moment and says, "you take good care of
him." She jerks her chin in my direction.
Qui-Gon is about to say something to that but Mom heads him off
with a raised hand, "but don't expect me to understand it
because I don't,"the feisty matriarch in her still very much
kicking and alive, "and aside from that," she moves her eyes
back up to Qui-Gon's face and pauses for a moment before
saying, "you may call me Mom, too." Except for a spark of
mischief flickering in her eyes, the woman is completely
straight-faced.
Qui-Gon's face is priceless. He actually flinches at that. It's
truly cute to see Qui-Gon show some nerve. The prospect of
calling someone "Mom" obviously daunts the ever dauntless
Qui-Gon Jinn. Before I have time to be moved and amazed by
Mom's astounding about turn, there's enough humour in the air
to make me chuckle loud. I hastily cover my mouth to stifle it.
Qui-Gon shoots me a deadly glare.
Then he holds his head high, swallows hard once and says with
some difficulty, "I will, M…Mom."
Mom smiles, a small one that looks wry, but a smile,
nonetheless. She doesn't hug Qui-Gon but gives him a squeeze on
his arm instead.
Then she moves to face me. We look at each other with no words
for a long time. Just a day ago, we practically screamed at
each other, each looking to draw blood from the other one. But
the cord between mother and son is never truly severed, no
matter what, and we know it. And underneath it all, and in
spite of everything, there's love in us for the other one. And
in the end, that's more important than any differences that we
may have.
We reach forward almost at the same time to hug each other. Mom
stays in my embrace only for a short moment and then she breaks
free and walks determinedly towards departures without looking
back.
Everyone else follows.
I find myself overcome with emotions as I watch the backs of
Mom's and Lars moving farther and farther from me. They are my
flesh and blood. And they love me enough to see past the chasm
that separates us.
Tears sting my eyes for a brief moment. I chew my lips to fight
them back. I want badly to hold hands with Qui-Gon or burrow in
against his chest. But I do no such thing because Torant is
standing right next to us. He has decided to stay on for a
couple of days to see some more of Coruscant.
**Are you alright, love?** My bondmate whispers into my mind.
I nod and sniffle once.
**So tomorrow we'll have healer Aapponii over for dinner?**
I think of the senior healer from Veja 5, good friend of
Qui-Gon's, separated from his mate and unattached for years,
handsome, rugged, middle-aged and fatherly. And I think of why
we have invited him over for dinner just this morning after
Torant has told us about his extended stay.
Archive 