Archive: master_apprentice, and eventually at G. Bonobo's House
of Monkey Love
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: smut and a little bit of Jedi Mind Control influence
Spoilers: Heavy spoilers. Takes place concurrently to the
movie, with slight... twists.
Summary: Qui-Gon embraces the concept of living fully in each
moment. Carpe Diem.
Feedback: Yes, but post me off-list, please, as a concession to
traffic at christyy@hotmail.com
Qui-Gon faced Watto squarely. "Credits will do fine," he
insisted again with an emphatic wave of his hand.
"No they won't!" the hovering merchant repeated acerbically.
"What do you think you are, waving your hand around like some
Jedi?"
"Well then, perhaps we can agree to some sort of a trade?"
Qui-Gon stalled. They couldn't leave the planet without those
parts. He stilled his mind, refusing to let the desperation of
their situation affect his bargaining skills.
"Trade? What have you got to trade?" Watto scratched himself
thoughtfully.
The Jedi master would have to call his Padawan on the com-link
and ask for an inventory of the ship. But thoughts of Obi-Wan
gave Qui-Gon an idea. "Rough trade?" he offered casually.
"Hmph." Watto's wings fluttered lazily, keeping him airborne.
"I usually go to the boy's mother for that sort of thing, but
if you think you can do better..." He left the thought
unfinished.
Qui-Gon knew he had piqued the merchant's interest. "If I can
do better... what?"
Shaking himself, Watto refused to yield to the temptation the
tall, handsome man presented. "If you can do better, maybe I
ought to sell my woman and buy you instead." Chuckling, Watto
led the way through piles of scrap metal and aging droids.
Jedi mind tricks might not affect the merchant, but the Force
was still with Qui-Gon. The Jedi reached out and stimulated the
pleasure center of the flying creature's brain. Watto's body
spasmed, yet maintained his customary altitude, despite erratic
wing beats and the growing pleasure he was feeling. Though he
tried to ignore the sensations, the sexual urge became too
urgent. Not caring who saw, Watto unfastened his trousers and
with a tremendous jolt achieved his species' equivalent of
orgasm. A faintly phosphorescent puddle gleamed in the shadows
of a dead droid before evaporating. Trying to pretend that
nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, Watto fastened his
clothing, and led the way back to the storefront.
Behind him Qui-Gon chuckled. If he was better than the
woman? Though he was no closer to an arrangement with the
merchant than before, the Jedi knew he'd have an interesting
story to tell his Padawan when he returned to the ship.
The storm had forced Qui-Gon and his companions to seek shelter
with the boy, Anakin, and his mother. Everyone pretended the
polite fiction of solitude as the Jedi Master called Obi-Wan on
the comlink to request an inventory of the ship, and keep the
captain informed of their whereabouts.
"Negotiations did not proceed as smoothly as we could have
hoped," Qui-Gon admitted to his Padawan learner.
"I'm sorry, Master." Qui-Gon could detect a slight note of
amusement in his apprentice's voice. "You're staying in town?"
"Yes. With a young boy and his mother. He's quite
extraordinary. The force is very strong with him," the Jedi
reported.
"And the mother?" Obi-Wan prompted.
Qui-Gon was silent for a moment too long before answering. "She
is an excellent hostess, very generous with what little they
have."
"Ah." The two Jedi were so attuned to each other, Qui-Gon could
almost see the grin forming on Obi-Wan's lips. "Well, don't do
anything I wouldn't do."
"That will give me a great deal of leeway, then," Qui-Gon
teased his student. "What are you wearing?" he changed the
topic abruptly.
Obi-Wan answered calmly. "Well, I was just getting ready for
bed. I'm wearing a pair of silk pants and a saucy grin. Don't
you wish you were here?"
"Is anyone with you?" Qui-Gon pursued.
"Not yet," was all Obi-Wan would admit to.
Qui-Gon closed the comlink with visions of his apprentice
entertaining as many of the young queen's handmaidens as would
fit on the narrow bed in their cabin. Chuckling, the Jedi
Master rejoined conversation in the Skywalker household.
"I'm not so sure I ought to let Ani race tomorrow," Shmi
fretted. Jar Jar and the youngsters had gone to bed, and
Qui-Gon was alone with Anakin's mother. "He might get hurt. He
might die."
"The Force is with him," the Jedi insisted. "Don't be afraid.
There is an old Jedi saying that fear leads to anger, anger
leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering."
"But I am already suffering!" Shmi insisted with quiet
desperation.
Qui-Gon took Shmi's hands in his own and locked eyes with the
slave woman. "Concentrate on the moment: this moment. You are
not in pain. Your son sleeps peacefully in the next room. Live
for this moment and you will not suffer." Qui-Gon knew that
such philosophies would probably not reassure the woman. The
Force might be strong with her, but she was mostly ignorant of
the Jedi tradition. That was why he was using the power of his
mind to calm and comfort her.
"Do you live for the moment?" The woman was relaxing.
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Most certainly. My apprentice argues with me
still, but though it is wise to be mindful of the future, we
live our lives in each present moment." His agile thumbs
absently caressed Shmi's knuckles, relaxing her further.
"Do Jedi love?" Shmi asked suddenly.
"Jedi have emotions like everyone else. We try to eliminate the
darker emotions: hate, fear, anger, jealousy, but we still
feel."
"No, I mean, do Jedi love," Shmi re-stated boldly,
making her emphasis clear.
The Jedi Master released the woman's hands to gently stroke her
face. With his mind, he began to tease the edges of her brain's
pleasure centers. "Yes, we do." The woman sighed, and abandoned
herself to his embrace. As Qui-Gon's body responded to having
an attractive woman in his arms, it amused him to think of Shmi
as a midichlorian magnet. All of his midichlorians were
certainly aching to be with her.
"I'll take that bet," Qui-Gon found himself saying. "The
podracer against the boy and his mother."
"No podracer is worth two slaves!" Watto insisted, wondering
why he felt so uneasy with this deal. He assumed the podracer
had been stolen, but that had never been a concern before. But
the merchant had not slept well the night before, plagued by
desires he couldn't subdue, and tortured by visions of the
beautiful man and what he could do with his hands and his
mouth.
Qui-Gon deliberated a moment. "Fine. The boy and his mother
against the podracer and the chance to see me get it on with
the woman." "Can I join in?" the flying blue creature scratched
his chin with a speculative gleam in his eye, wondering if he
could find a way to buy this beautiful man.
"You had your chance yesterday, and you turned me down," the
Jedi insisted smugly.
Watto was disappointed, but had already decided which of the
local slavers to contact for arranging a kidnapping. He and the
woman would breed beautiful children that Watto could sell to
brothels or as servants to the Hutts. "I have a chance cube
here. Blue, the boy. Red, his mother."
Qui-Gon knew what choice he had to make. With a wave of his
hand he altered the movement of the loaded chance cube, tipping
it in favor of blue. If Ani won today's race he would be free
to follow the Jedi path. Shmi would survive on her own, a new
son growing in her belly to replace the one she was about to
lose. Qui-Gon's focus was on the present moment, trusting the
Force to take care of the future.
Watto flew away, grumbling heavily, as the Skywalkers, Padme
and Ani's friend arrived, riding double on a native animal.
"Good Morning!" Qui-Gon beamed at Shmi, helping her down from
the beast she'd been riding.
Shmi looked flustered, trying vainly not let the remembered
pleasure of the night before distract her from the worry at
hand. But, somehow during the night's exercises, Shmi forgot
much of her anxiety, and was oddly calm about the prospect of
watching her son risk his life in the races today. Maybe it was
the proprietary way the tall, handsome Jedi took her arm, and
surreptitiously brushed against her still-sensitive breasts,
distracting her from the troubles of a slave's life. She knew
that soon he would leave. In the part of her mind that was
still thinking rationally, she wondered if she could get this
Jedi to take Anakin with him when he left. Any punishment would
be worth knowing her son would live free.
On his way to the Hutt, Watto stopped at Sebulba's camp to
reassure himself he'd made the right decision.
"You're going to win today, right?" the merchant asked
anxiously.
Sensing something was up, Sebulba decided to toy with the old
blue thing. "I don't know. Maybe today I'm tired. Maybe today
I'm lazy. I might lose today."
Gulping, Watto knew what he had to do. "How can I convince you
the importance of this particular race, o munificent Sebulba?"
He wasn't sure what the words meant, but they sounded pretty
good.
Sebulba chuckled throatily and unfastened his pants with agile
feet. "Maybe I just need a little encouragement."
Watto hovered for a brief, indecisive moment before landing on
the ground between Sebulba's hands. The famous pod-racer's
sexual organs nested like spaghetti between his legs. Taking a
deep breath, Watto bent his head to service the other being,
and to ensure that Sebulba would crush Anakin in the races
today. The loss of a slave was a financial setback, but with
the newcomers enslaved he could breed as many humans as he
wanted.
At the end of the day, the race was won, lives were decided,
and Qui-Gon took a moment with Shmi as Anakin packed to get
ready for this new adventure.
"I tried to bargain for you both, but I failed. I would have
done anything..." Qui-Gon began.
"Knowing Anakin will be safe and free is enough. You will train
him?"
"I will."
Shmi lifted her skirts quickly. "We haven't much time. Anakin
doesn't have much to pack." Qui-Gon took advantage of this last
opportunity, and their coupling was brief, almost violent.
Pressed against the wall of her tiny dwelling by this giant
man, Shmi decided her son would live a very lucky life if he
had attracted the attentions of a stud like this one.
Qui-Gon settled Anakin in the common room. "Why don't you see
if you can take a nap. It's been a long day." Anakin just
shivered. "Jar Jar, would you keep an eye on the boy?"
"Okey-day!" the amphibian agreed cheerfully, and sat down to
teach the boy the rudiments of losing at holo-chess.
Returning to the cabin he shared with his apprentice, Qui-Gon
knew he was in for an argument. But Obi-Wan just looked at his
master, thoughtfully, and resumed the conversation they'd begun
in the loading bay. "If the Force guided you to this decision,
it must be the right one. This boy Anakin is very strong
with the Force. Do you think the council with consent to train
him?"
"The future will take care of itself, young padawan," Qui-Gon
insisted, stripping and joining his Padawan on the bed.
"Yes. I remember, master." A sensual smile lit Obi-Wan's face.
Obi-Wan extended his mind to brush against the pleasure centers
in Qui-Gon's brain. The Jedi Master gasped with pleasure, the
tender touch of his mind echoed in the tender touch on his
skin. In body, mind and soul the two men became one being for a
time, consumed by the pleasure of the moment.
As they drifted to sleep, tangled in each other's arms, Obi-Wan
sighed. "I really liked this moment, Master."
Qui-Gon chuckled sleepily. "Sometimes that's all we have."
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