Series: This is a stand-alone story. However, anyone
remember the Desolation series, in which I wrote six stories
back in the early days (read: May and early June!) of the M-A
list? This is the seventh story in that series, finally... You
can find the first six stories in this series at the M_A
archive or on my homepage. A description of the events of the
series thus far is below.
Summary: A visit to an oracle results in much angst and some
reflective moments for the fellas. Sort of a mildly
angsty-smutty interlude between the heavy angst that came
before and will follow!
Authors' Notes: I know this "Desolation" series story has been
a while in coming, so I hope someone is still reading, and that
y'all will give it a try even if you aren't familiar with the
series. Thanks to ari for the super-quick beta of the smutty
parts!
Premise of the Desolation Series: I began posting this series
in May just after the movie premiered. It followed the
beginnings of a relationship between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and
showed the development of their love even as it was tested by
the Council and certain events. Obi-Wan's mind was assaulted in
the third story, largely because of a foolish decision made by
Qui-Gon to protect him rather than allowing him to assume his
share of responsibility for the mission.
Obi-Wan was given the impression that Qui-Gon had attacked him.
As he recovered from the damage caused by the assault, it
became quite clear how much Qui-Gon loved him, and how strong
and resilient Obi-Wan was. Qui-Gon realized their roles as Jedi
must come before everything else, something Obi-Wan already
understood. The Council agreed to let them remain together only
as long as they were convinced it would not jeopardize their
work as Jedi.
Category: angst, drama, action/adventure
Timeline: Set about one year before TPM: Obi-Wan is about 24.
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Master and Apprentice, SWAL and The Nesting Place
only; all others ask first please.
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em. I use 'em. Lots.
Are you still here?? <g> On with the show!
Infinite joy was not a concept much embraced by the Jedi.
Obi-Wan Kenobi felt ill-equipped to deal with the sensation,
immersed as he was in the teachings of serenity which had
guided him all his life. All that was necessary to bring forth
a groundswell of happiness was a glance at the man beside him,
slumbering peacefully, one arm thrown across Obi-Wan's bare
stomach.
Even in sleep, his Master was captivating to Obi-Wan, a riddle
without a solution. For every fact he uncovered about his
Master, one remained guarded, hidden somewhere in the depths of
privacy Qui-Gon was unaccustomed to sharing.
There had been some glimpses along the way of his Master's
feelings for him, and Obi-Wan was awed by the love flowing
freely between them. It was no longer only the love of teacher
for student, but of a man for his beloved.
Qui-Gon stirred and turned his face to Obi-Wan. The muscles of
his back rippled powerfully as he turned and shifted. Obi-Wan's
hand rested flat on that broad surface, and he stroked gently
across the shoulders, soothing Qui-Gon back into a deep sleep.
It was the middle of the Itraniian night; it had been a long
mission, and Obi-Wan knew he should be just as tired as his
master. Sleep was elusive. Too much had happened over the last
few days, too many questions were swirling around in his head.
Chance had brought him to a place where a crossroads loomed,
and he was beginning to wonder if he would know the correct
path. He reflected back on the night's events, trying to clear
his mind of confusion, and wondered if he was even meant to
understand...
"I was not a difficult pupil," Obi-Wan insisted, hiding a smile
as he walked beside his master through the misty forests of
Itraniia. "Never difficult."
"Perhaps difficult is the wrong word. Stubborn, perhaps?
Recalcitrant?" Qui-Gon suggested in a mild tone. "Certainly you
weren't the most cooperative padawan any master has ever
taught."
"No master has ever taught their apprentice the things you've
taught me." The words were heavy with innuendo, seductive, and
the bond between them pulsed with a fluid, sensual wanting.
Obi-Wan made no effort to conceal his feelings, and was pleased
to see the look of desire that flickered across Qui-Gon's face.
"Unlikely as that may be, I have no wish to debate the point,"
Qui-Gon answered gruffly. "You've done well on this particular
mission, and that is what's most important."
"The Council was worried, weren't they?' Obi-Wan asked, looking
at the road ahead rather than at his master. "And so were you."
"I had faith in your abilities, Padawan. I've trained with you;
there was no doubt that you could perform as required."
"Such an easy mission, Master," his padawan responded in a
knowing tone. "It was just a test. I'm beginning to think
everything is a test where I'm concerned. Do they really have
so little faith in me?"
"It's the relationship between us. I allowed it to jeopardize
your life once through my carelessness, and the Council is
concerned that it could happen again, Obi-Wan."
Abruptly, the young padawan drew to a halt and sat heavily on a
mossy outgrowth of roots and leaves. He reached up absently
with one hand and winced as he gripped the muscles of his
shoulder, easing the tension there. "We're past that, Master.
I'm restored. Everything is as it was."
"Not everything," Qui-Gon answered softly, moving behind
Obi-Wan. He stilled the young Jedi's fingers and set to work.
Qui-Gon's hands moved slowly across Obi-Wan's aching shoulders,
fingers massaging deep into the tired muscles. Force energy
flowed through the touch, an invisible caress which both
relaxed and pleased the young Jedi.
"I wouldn't want things between us to be the same," Obi-Wan
said, and the low urgency of the words was filled with truth
and trust. He tipped his face up and found his mouth captured
in a soft, slow kiss.
"You need rest. This has been a long, tiring trip," Qui-Gon
said, wrapping the younger man in a brief embrace before
stepping away.
"This is a beautiful world," Obi-Wan said, deflecting the
statement.
"Indeed it is," Qui-Gon replied, looking about him. The white
mist that swirled around them was cool and inviting as it
weaved through the trees and brush. Gentle breezes stirred the
leaves into rustling conversation. Approaching night brought
with it three pearlescent moons peeking out from high, heavy
clouds, their intermittent light beaming onto the trees and
foliage below.
The Itraniians had built a world populated with beings who
worshipped nature and the relationship between all living
things. The Force was strong in their people, but in a very
positive manner, and it seemed to be a factor in the
Itraniian's pleasant and somewhat mysterious way of conducting
themselves. They were friendly enough, but seemed somewhat
reserved, and Obi-Wan always had the impression there was
something hidden just beyond the visible.
"How much farther?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep his fatigue
from creeping into his voice. He kept his face composed and
still when Qui-Gon's sharp, perceptive glance landed on him.
"Only a short distance. We'll make it before the darkest time
of night comes."
"It was kind of the Ambassador to suggest the retreat for us,"
Obi-Wan said with a sigh, rising and setting the pace once
again in the direction of the setting sun.
As a parting gesture to the Jedi who negotiated their entry
into the Republic, the Itraniians pointed them toward a
peaceful, sacred spot, an old hot spring that had been used
many times in the distant past of their people as a place of
worship. The Ambassador told Qui-Gon that the place resonated
with the Force. Qui-Gon had not hesitated to accept the
directions.
Obi-Wan suspected Qui-Gon had a little something more in mind
than meditation.
The night crept closer as they neared their destination, and
Qui-Gon unconsciously stepped a bit closer to Obi-Wan, sharing
warmth with him as they walked. Both Jedi pulled their hoods
over their heads and hid their hands inside the recesses of
their long sleeves to cut the chill.
Qui-Gon was the first to feel it, to sense that there was
something beyond the edge of the trees just ahead, and his
steps became halting. His head tipped to one side as he stopped
and extended a hand, almost as though he were using an antennae
to pick up some sort of signal. "Do you..." he began.
"Yes," Obi-Wan breathed. The Force surrounded them in a way
Obi-Wan had never experienced. It was palpable, a living,
dancing thing, mercurial and almost mischievous. Obi-Wan found
he was able to access the Force without concentration; it
seemed to cling to him, to be a part of his physical body,
rather than his mind. Qui-Gon began to walk again and Obi-Wan
followed automatically, still captivated by the sensation of
the living Force racing about his skin.
They cleared the tree line and stopped, staring. Small
goosebumps raised up on Obi-Wan's flesh as he looked at the
tall, broken stones arranged in a diamond formation, their
polished black surfaces reflecting the moonlight in sinuous and
odd patterns.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the overwhelming feeling that
he should enter the formation, that he belonged at the
center of the stones. They seemed to sing to him, a strange
call of attraction and surrender. He took a step, stopped,
looked to his master.
Qui-Gon seemed spellbound at the edge of the barrier formed by
the tall ebony monoliths. With an odd expression, he turned to
Obi-Wan, and said distantly, "You must go. The Force wills it."
Obi-Wan felt the same inevitable truth, and with a puzzled
frown on his face, he passed the first of the stones. Shivers
assailed him, causing strange tremors in his hands, and he
looked about the oddly bare patch of land as he crossed the
small open space between the stones. A distant humming,
electric and constant, thrummed through him as he neared the
raised circle of stones at the center of the sacred place.
He stopped, and looked back at Qui-Gon, who seemed strangely
helpless. The night beat down against him, enveloping him in a
cloak of black serenity, and he stepped up onto the small
altar.
Light! and a sizzle of ozone, sharp and tangy in his mouth; he
tasted it, smelled it as it jolted him from one level of
consciousness to another.
"Well, finally," came a voice laced with humor. Obi-Wan looked
up at the source of the sound, and a short, plump woman with
ancient eyes gazed at him from a small stone chair. He jumped
up, disoriented by the cave walls which enclosed him, by the
small fire which burned hot in front of him. "We've been
waiting for you, Jedi," said the small woman, and her laughter
filled Obi-Wan with a sense of dread, and of anticipation.
The rational part of Obi-Wan's mind reasserted itself over his
fear. He took a deep breath and looked with a calm heart at his
surroundings.
The stones had disappeared; he was inside some sort of tiny
cave, with barely enough room to stand upright. There was only
the fire, which cast menacing shadows on rounded walls darkened
by soot, and the woman, seated in a crude chair carved from
natural rock. Obi-Wan reached out through the Force and was
staggered by the amount of Force energy she possessed.
"You've guessed this is all illusion, haven't you, Jedi?" the
woman said, shifting in the small hard chair. The black garment
she wore caught the light and reflected small sizzles of
midnight blue. "Ask your questions, then. That's why you're
here."
"Who are you?" Obi-Wan asked immediately.
"We are the Oracle." She tilted her head, studying him. "You
don't believe in prophecy?"
Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "Not in the kind of prophecy which comes
from oracles."
"Choose another name, then. Or perhaps another face." Her look
turned calculating, and she mused aloud, "We take the form
least threatening to the seeker. Perhaps this form would be
more to your liking."
Obi-Wan blinked, and Qui-Gon sat before him, his large form
dwarfing the chair. It was his master, and yet it was not; the
physical aspect was perfection, but the eyes were someone
else's - speculative, probing, cold.
With Qui-Gon's voice, the figure spoke. "You have great love
for your master. This, above all, is why you must heed the
warning."
"What warning?" Obi-Wan asked, still skeptical. "You speak in
circles."
"We cannot convey the warning with words," said his Master's
double, rising and stretching to its full height. "You must
open your mind to the possibility, and allow us to show you."
As if sensing Obi-Wan's great hesitation, the figure added,
"You must make it possible, if you are to walk at your master's
side."
"How do I know this isn't some sort of trick?" Obi-Wan asked,
knowing the answer before the words were past his lips.
"Use the Force to guide you. That's what you call it. Yes, seek
through the Force. All answers cannot come to one so young
without guidance. We must sometimes offer our services."
Obi-Wan was already deliberately testing the will of the Force,
and the sensation was clear - this being was genuine, and there
was something here that needed to be understood. He relaxed
into the Force, allowed it to flow through him, and found
himself face to face with the being.
"Prepare yourself, Jedi, for all omens may be interpreted many
ways. Your master knows this, and so will you. One time may we
show you, and you must ask your questions quickly." The Oracle
placed its hands gently on either side of his face; so much
like his master's hands, even in their tenderness. The touch
made Obi-Wan tremble. "You are wise to be cautious," the Oracle
whispered.
A thousand colors blurred and mingled, and Obi-Wan was tossed
suddenly into the role of observer. Shadows were performing
tricks for him, and he watched the hazy images, trying to fit
the pictures together in a way which made sense. After a
moment, the images became clearer, but still moving by so
rapidly he could barely piece it all together.
His master, turning away from Yoda, and such regret and sadness
in them both. A glimpse of Obi-Wan, clad in ordinary clothing,
free of Jedi robes. A sudden flash of being taken by Qui-Gon,
of being held tightly in those arms, of his master moving
within him, slowly driving him insane with need. Arcs of
swirling light, glowing red, green and blue, and a sudden
scream of anguish that he recognized as his own. And his
master, standing beside a funeral pyre.
"I don't understand. Are all these things portents of the
future?" Obi-Wan felt his frustration building, his fear
overwhelming him as he looked at the stark grief on his
master's face.
"They are not. These are things that may come to pass at any
given moment in the future. You must heed the warning and
choose the path leading to the outcome you desire."
"But how can I know which path is the correct one?" Obi-Wan
questioned, teeth gritted.
"Be wise. Be true to your teachings. Follow the will of the
Force." The pictures faded into nothingness, and were replaced
by a vivid tableau - Qui-Gon, standing in the Temple gardens
with Mace Windu. "One more thing must you know, Jedi. Listen
well."
Qui-Gon, talking with Mace Windu, and their words were
distinct, distorted, loud. "I have seen visions of our
future, Master. On all accounts, it is not what I might have
expected it to be."
"He kept that from me," Obi-Wan whispered.
"It was not yet time for you to know," came the reply, and then
a silence so deafening he threw his hands across his ears.
"Obi-Wan?"
Startled, the young Jedi looked up, and felt his master's hand
on the small of his back, supporting him. He lowered his arms,
looked into Qui-Gon's eyes and saw stark concern, and
curiosity. "What do you hear?"
Without thinking, Obi-Wan brushed his fingers across Qui-Gon's
face, testing his reality. Emotions shifted in Qui-Gon's eyes.
"What is it, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan spun suddenly, looking for the Oracle. There was no
trace of the cave, only the gleaming, smooth surfaces of the
polished obelisks, and the strangely bright moonlight. "I...I
saw something," he began, knowing how difficult it would be to
explain. "An oracle. It was...she gave me information about my
future...our future," he amended. He turned back to Qui-Gon,
and was startled to see the troubled expression on his
teacher's face. "What have you been hiding from me?"
Qui-Gon released him and took a step back. "I have hidden
nothing from you, Obi-Wan, nor have I misled you. There are
some things I have chosen not to share."
"Would a vision of our future be one of them?" Obi-Wan asked
quietly. The validity of the Oracle's gift to him was confirmed
when resignation settled across Qui-Gon's face. "Why would you
keep such a thing from me?" he asked, not sure whether the hurt
he was feeling was justified.
Qui-Gon gathered his robe and sat down on the edge of the stone
steps; after a moment, Obi-Wan followed suit, sitting on the
step below his Master and turning to face him expectantly.
Qui-Gon chose his words carefully. "You are aware I have never
had the ability to see the future as other Jedi sometimes do.
It is not a thing I've ever done. Thus, I am ever suspicious of
what is revealed to me when I receive insight from the Force.
It has not been accurate in the past, and may not be this time,
either."
"Tell me what you saw," Obi-Wan demanded.
"I might ask the same of you," his master reminded him. "And I
will expect you to tell me."
"You first," Obi-Wan said, in that stubborn tone that Qui-Gon
knew all too well.
"I have had two distinct insights into our future. One of them
was only an impression, really, of a hardship you would have to
face alone, a difficult and trying time you would pass through
without me."
"Because you were dead," Obi-Wan said, his voice breaking on
the last word.
"Yes," Qui-Gon answered flatly.
Obi-Wan looked away. "And the other insight?" he asked, burning
with the knowledge he'd been given.
"The other vision was clear. We will walk our paths together.
Regardless of the direction our lives take, we will go as one,
and we will not be separated."
"Unless you die," Obi-Wan said, unable to keep the bitterness
from lacing his words.
"Obi-Wan." A gentle, insistent finger tugged at Obi-Wan's chin,
lifting his face, and his Master looked at him with such aching
love that it closed all the wounds and doubts inside the young
Padawan. "There is no death, there is only the Force. And there
is no guarantee that it will happen. Nevertheless, we are
Jedi." The rebuke was subtle, but clear. "Now tell me. What did
you see?"
"So much, Master...I can barely comprehend what I was given. I
think I glimpsed several events that were not connected. I saw
myself in civilian clothes, and saw you arguing with Master
Yoda. And I saw you standing by a funeral pyre, after some sort
of battle. But I was not with you..." The significance of the
words dawned on him, and he drew in his breath sharply, even as
all the color drained from Qui-Gon's face.
"The Oracle led you to believe I stood by your pyre," Qui-Gon
said, his tone hollow.
"The Oracle said I should receive the vision because it would
be a chance for me to save you," Obi-Wan answered.
"That's a price I would not allow you to pay." Qui-Gon's voice
was low, and fierce.
"We've been through this," Obi-Wan reminded him. "You
instructed me when we became lovers that our feelings should
never interfere with our duty."
"Yes, and if the Oracle implies that you should use this
knowledge to somehow take my place, to change our destiny, then
you will have done exactly what we both have learned we
cannot do."
They stared at each other, each contemplating the prospect of a
future without the other man, of the sacrifices they would each
willingly make, and of the cost of making them. So many
possible outcomes, and no way of knowing which path would lead
to a destiny where they could be together.
It seemed that, for the moment, there was nothing more to be
said. The unspoken thoughts gathered around them like so many
wet vines, clinging and tightening until communication was
strangled. Obi-Wan nodded, looking a little dazed, and stood
gracefully, returning to the edge of the sacred place to
retrieve their shared bundle of clothes and possessions. "I
take it we'll be sleeping here," he said, beginning to pull out
the rough blankets.
"Perhaps we should continue on," Qui-Gon suggested. "The
spaceport is only another hour away at most. I'm not sure it
would be wise to remain here, after..."
"The damage is done," Obi-Wan said wryly, smiling up at Qui-Gon
as he tried to arrange the blankets in a comfortable way. He
removed his cloak and padded the bed with it, and held out his
hand for Qui-Gon's cloak as well.
Instead of a cloak, he received a hand, warm and firm, clasped
around his own. He was pulled back into an embrace, settled
between broad thighs which opened to make room for him. His
master held him for a moment, content to study every nuance of
Obi-Wan's face; the small muscle twitching in his left cheek,
the padawan braid which shifted slightly on his shoulder with
every breath, the tiny curving smile at the corner of his lips.
That corner was where Qui-Gon kissed him first, brushing his
lips across the blossoming grin and continuing down the line of
the jaw which angled up into the tender kisses. Gentle nips
down the neck, not too firm, teeth skimming lightly down the
strong white line. Qui-Gon's hand settled at the front of
Obi-Wan's throat, pushing his tunic open gently, and Obi-Wan
arched into the touch, head thrown back. His master's open palm
traveled up that slender neck, followed by warm lips, moving
slowly.
Fingers curved around the back of Obi-Wan's neck, and he was
drawn forward into a deep, delicious kiss. Qui-Gon withdrew and
stopped to look into the stormy green eyes searching his own.
"I will not lose you," he said fervently, as though the words
were an invocation against harm. "I will not."
"There is no death," Obi-Wan gasped, as Qui-Gon's hands found
the fastenings of his trousers and opened them. "There is the
Force." His master took his power of speech easily, tongue
cutting between his lips, opening them, demanding a willing
sacrifice to the power of the feelings between them, and
Obi-Wan gave it without hesitation.
Qui-Gon's mouth refused to release him, even as his hands
delved beneath the loose waistband of Obi-Wan's trousers and
pushed them away impatiently. Those hands clasped around
Obi-Wan's waist for a moment, maneuvering his apprentice's body
closer. The hard length of Obi-Wan's cock pressed against his
master's where it jutted, still trapped by his clothes. He
raised Obi-Wan's arms, drew his tunic up and over his head and
dropped it to the side.
Obi-Wan made a small noise of desire deep in his throat as
sensitive flesh rubbed against rough cloth. Qui-Gon sat back,
his hands delving down across Obi-Wan's buttocks as the older
Jedi stood. He pushed Obi-Wan back slightly, to an even patch
of soft grass, and then his master was on his knees before his
padawan, dark blue eyes taunting the younger man for just a
moment before he turned his attention to the erection before
him.
"You...I..." Obi-Wan panted, riveted to the erotic sight of
Qui-Gon's head moving, of that mouth taking him in tightly, of
his master on his knees - his master! - swirling his tongue
around the head of Obi-Wan's cock. The pink tip jumped under
the focused attention it received, and Qui-Gon looked up for a
moment, never taking his eyes from Obi-Wan's as he carefully
swallowed the entire length of his padawan's cock.
Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered closed, and he reached out quite
blindly to grasp the long locks of hair which shone silver in
the moonlight, to control the speed, but Qui-Gon pushed his
hand away and sucked him in to the root. With a soft howl, and
a shiver of ecstasy trembling through him like liquid fire, he
came, perfected by the gift his master had given him, by the
emotion his master could not hide.
Qui-Gon lowered his love to the ground, snatching up a cloak to
cover him, and resting alongside him as the tremors subsided,
laying kisses along his eyes, his lips, his chest.
"You will not lose me," Obi-Wan said faintly, opening his eyes
to see the face of his beloved.
Qui-Gon wrapped his arms closer around Obi-Wan. "If only you
could guarantee that," he said, as though the words caused him
pain. "I would give a great deal to know that it is so."
End.
Note: I'm inclined to skip to the end of this series and write
the last story(ies) in it, and fill in the middle later. We
shall see. All comments and criticisms welcomed at
destinaf@hotmail.com
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