CATEGORY: angst, alternate reality
SERIES and TIME FRAME: The Oraclyne Series of which "A More
Certain Path" was the first; this story follows "Path to
Oraclyne" about three weeks later. Obi-Wan is 18. The rest of
the series can be found on the MA archive and the Oraclyne
website: http://jinn.iwarp.com/oraclyne/www/oraclyne.html
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: None
PAIRING: Chiefly Q/O, but see note at end of whole post.
SPOILERS: For Jedi Apprentice books, esp. #5, "Defenders of
the Dead"
ARCHIVE: M_A archive only; also on my new website for this
series (see note).
DISCLAIMER: They belong to George Lucas. He has more of my
money than I want to think about. I'm not making a dime off
this, ever.
CASTING OF OMC: When imagining Master Healer Maki' Windsailor,
picture Jason Carter, aka Ranger Marcus Cole of Babylon 5. When
imagining Senior Padawan Artificer Tevis Farolo... check out
his "picture" at the Oraclyne website (scroll to end of front
page - see NOTE for URL.) More castings for original characters
later as needed.
NOTE: The alternate reality of the Oraclyne series is
explained in more detail in the Appendices for "Path to
Oraclyne". The appendices, which explain the four Jedi
"Disciplines", are archived at the Oraclyne website,
http://home.flash.net/~darknick/oraclyne.html
SERIES SUMMARIES:
In "A More Certain Path", Obi-Wan restarts his life as a Jedi
and as Qui-Gon's padawan after the incidents on Melida/Daan in
Jedi Apprentice #5, "Defenders of the Dead". This is
essentially the start of the series as everything else builds
from that, but there is no mention of the Jedi Disciplines.
"Path to Oraclyne" - Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan undergo a physical
imprinting after Qui-Gon's attempt to heal Obi-Wan's concussion
takes too much out of him and Obi-Wan has to draw him back.
Jedi Master Healers Galiddys Hyr and Makol' Windsailor take on
the pair's case, then depart for Qui-Gon's home planet where
they discover that Q and O are becoming a rare entity, an
Oraclyne, a bonded pair of highly telepathic healers.
Unfortunately, just as Q & O learn of this, they go off
planet to escape Council members seeking to reverse the
imprinting when an emergency call sends them into their first
Oraclyne healing. Right before the call, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan
admit their love for one another and kiss, accepting this new
destiny together. Then duty calls and Qui-Gon attempts the
healing with Obi's help. But they're NOT an Oraclyne, not yet,
and when Qui-Gon achieves the healing but falls into a coma,
Obi-Wan does, too.
Back on Coruscant, the Healers bring back the Oraclyne archive
with them, a huge, chronological, unsearchable document
covering the ten thousand year history of Oraclynes. As it's
clear that the Oraclyne must heal itself from within, they
can't do much, though Makol' (nickname Maki') tries to
communicate with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan's mind, meanwhile, is caught
up in the "spirit land", a higher plane of consciousness that
manifests itself in a forested place peopled by individuals
Obi-Wan has known, but who are dead. One of these is Xanatos,
who ends up helping Obi-Wan cope and is discovered to be the
incarnation in the spirit land of the Oraclyne connection
between Q and O itself. X WANTS to help, as he repented upon
dying in a battle with Qui-Gon two years before.
Finally they both become conscious, but Qui-Gon is strangely
changed as they'd feared. He begins to exhibit one psychotic
behavior after another, including rejecting the Oraclyne and
seeking the reversal of their imprinting - rejecting the urges
for sexual union that the Oraclyne connection has set up in
both of them - having sex with his former lovers where Obi-Wan
sees him - aggressively trying to get Obi-Wan to fight him in a
practice when they do not have harmony between them - and
finally attempting suicide because he doesn't want to hurt
Obi-Wan but cannot reconcile the Oraclyne.
Qui-Gon is stopped, whew! By now Master Hyr (Maki' has been
with the Oraclyne through most of this) has discovered in the
long-winded archive what's wrong, and Obi-Wan and Maki' take
Qui-Gon back to the planet where the healing was done (Belvin
Three). There Obi-Wan gets Qui to release the negative energies
to balance himself and the environment there, and Obi-Wan
successfully heals him of his psychoses.
The rest of the book covers their journey and settling in on
Dantooine where the Jedi Healers' Temple is. The Oraclyne will
study healing and finish their development there. And finally,
sex! [g]
The Healers accept that Q & O want to be both Healers and
Diplomats, though the Jedi Council apparently is split over the
matter. After Obi-Wan's Senior Padawan vow ceremony is held in
the Temple, Yoda surprises them with a particularly nice gift -
Supreme Chancellor Vallorum is giving the Oraclyne a special
job as Ambassadors for Healing which they will commence in six
months after they finish training and the further development
of the Oraclyne on Dantooine. During the ceremony, also,
Qui-Gon has a vision of Xanatos and is reconciled with him so
that X can be one with the Force now.
A new character is introduced late in the book - troubled
Padawan Artificer Tevis Farolo - and we see that the Council's
snit about Jedi being in more than one Discipline at a time
affects more than just the Oraclyne. Change... is in the air.
TIME of "Oraclyne Dawning": Three weeks after Obi-Wan's Senior
Padawan vow ceremony at the Jedi Healers' Temple on Dantooine.
SUMMARY: The Jedi Oraclyne finish Stage 1 of their development
and pass through the traumatic transition to Stage 2.
[ ] - thoughts of a character
** ** - telepathic communication
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Note re pairings: There is little bit of O/OMC and some very
strange and bizarre Q/O/X in this. [g]
1)
=======================
Imprinting - first stage of
the development of an Oraclyne.
=======================
Obi-Wan Kenobi looked at the title on the screen of the data
terminal in their temporary housing at the Jedi retreat center
on Dantooine. "Where to start?" he said aloud though the only
other to hear was outside.
**Description is a good place,** that other replied into their
shared mental link. Qui-Gon Jinn was out in their exercise
field behind the cottage, moving smoothly through the Waving
Tree jemna form. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan could
see the occasional blue flashes from the borrowed lightsaber.
**That won't work,** Obi-Wan gently reminded his lover. He had
no need to see Qui-Gon, their shared physical imprinting
allowing him to be fully present to his every movement, every
swirl of the Force around him, every bobble from using a
lightsaber that was someone else's.
That is, if there had been bobbles. **Um?** he queried,
curious. **That shouldn't...**
**Compensating. Why do you think a Jedi will never need to use
another's lightsaber?**
**Ah.** Obi-Wan smiled. **My Master is correct. But is it
easier to compensate when one is using their Oraclys's
lightsaber? You should try that with Maki''s. Speaking of whom,
where is our Oracine?**
Outside, the Jedi Master returned to his original position,
twirling the 'saber a few times before stopping. **Are we
having a conversation here or are you attending to your task,
Padawan?**
Obi-Wan sighed, realizing he deserved the "Master tone" from
his lover. **My task, Master, thank you.** He would keep his
end of the link silent, carefully blocking his surface thoughts
so as to not disturb the other.
He was still getting used to the fact that he had no fewer
than three entirely separate relationships with Qui-Gon Jinn.
He was his Senior Padawan, which meant that though he was in
advanced studies now and largely in charge of his own progress,
selecting his own courses of study, he was still very much
Qui-Gon's student, and would be for another five to eight
years. Then he was Oraclys to Qui-Gon, physically imprinted to
his life force, bound to him in their Oraclyne connection,
which tied them to each other emotionally, psychologically, and
sexually, a frontier they truly had explored very little. And
then he was Qui-Gon's permanently committed lover... though how
much of that was created by the Oraclyne connection, they did
not know. Obi-Wan did not like to think about that too much.
He'd loved Qui-Gon for a few years already, but was that
because they were destined to become this rare entity together,
the Oraclyne?
Oh, there was more, but switching between those roles was not
that hard. Adjusting to the first three was far more of a
challenge. They were friends, companions, partners in their
common work, Diplomats, and now to be Healers as well, a role
still strange to them.
[So, what is the imprinting?] he asked himself, returning his
attention to the data terminal. His beloved had returned to his
jemna, but Obi-Wan walled out the sensations and awareness of
the other's physical presence. It wasn't perfect; they were
still adjusting, he had to admit, but it sufficed for his
purposes. [Okay, identification, then documentation of exactly
how it occurred...] Obi-Wan organized his thoughts even as he
continued to adjust his awareness. Data terminal. The common
room, just alert enough to catch any changes in it such as
Maki' walking in. Qui-Gon, dimmer yet, present but set aside.
And, of course, the Force, humming softly everywhere. He added
a thought that Maki' must be near, for the Oracine's buffering
effect seemed to be subtly activating. The soft pressure on his
mind of the population of Dantooine and especially the Jedi
Healers' Temple, had lessened since he sat down here.
[That will be another chapter,] Obi-Wan thought ruefully. It
was daunting to contemplate the changes he and Qui-Gon had
undergone since... well, most of this had started when Obi-Wan
had fallen twenty feet on Hagabel V and suffered a concussion.
[All our senses seem so much sharper, like our capacity for
sensation and psychic awareness has been blown out of the
water... everything seems MORE. How much of this is
Oraclyne-related and how much our telepathic potential? Or is
that all one and the same?]
Too many questions. Obi-Wan rubbed the bridge of his nose and
looked at the screen again. It seemed that he'd spent an
eternity in front of it already, for in the past three weeks
since he'd made his Senior Padawan vows to his master, they'd
dived headlong into the massive Oraclyne archive from Zevdra
until - two days ago - they'd actually finished reading it. [So
much doesn't apply to us,] he thought for the hundredth time.
[No Oraclyne has been made of Force-sensitives, much less Jedi
Force-adepts like us.]
But they had learned something critical. There were multiple
stages to Oraclyne development, and the physical imprinting
which they'd already undergone was but the first of a series of
changes they would endure. And already their imprinting bore
little resemblance to what was so sketchily described in the
rambling Archive. "Physical awareness of the other," Maki' had
called what he observed of the Zevdrani Oraclyne. That but
scratched the surface. [All right, what's different from that?]
Easy. Extreme awareness. Obi-Wan knew his mind had walled off
more than he had consciously. When he went within, he could see
the walls, touch them, but knowing what they were, he
understood that he wasn't ready to handle taking them down. [So
much is subconscious protection - the Oraclyne connection
again? If I could just talk to Xanatos about this...] But that
entity, the repentant spirit of Qui-Gon's last padawan, was one
with the Force now. Before Xanatos's reconciliation with
Qui-Gon, the entity had served as an incarnation of the
Oraclyne connection.
Another somber thought: neither Obi-Wan nor Qui-Gon had been
able to access the "spirit land", a state of consciousness that
had enabled them to deal with the aftermath of the healing
performed on Belvin Three when Qui-Gon had been left in a
psychotic state. At least that was in the Archive. They'd
accessed the spirit land only because of the extreme need at
the time - Qui-Gon's state of mind. Now, that problem
eliminated, it was unavailable to them for the simple reason
that they were still in Stage 1 of their development - the
imprinting. They'd thought it was already finished. The Archive
had told them otherwise. They'd only begun.
[I don't want to think about the other... two... stages,]
Obi-Wan decided. [We've imprinted, now we're adjusting. That's
enough to worry about.]
He began to type.
===================
Physical imprinting between a matched pair, one Zevdrani, one
Bajrheni, constitutes a profound joining of the two
individual's life forces. The manifestations of this phenomenon
are: 1) extreme and constant physical awareness of the other,
2) the mingling of their life energies so that another telepath
or Force-sensitive may perceive them as one entity, 3) a
balance between their life forces, i.e. when one is hurt, the
other will automatically seek to heal them, bring their life
force back into balance, 4) realignment of their life cycles
and physiology to decrease the age differences between Oraclys,
and 5)
==================
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He and Qui-Gon would die together one
day. As Jedi Diplomats did not often die of old age in their
beds, it would most likely happen when one Oraclys was so
severely injured on a mission that the other could not heal
them, but only follow them into death. Into the Force, as the
Jedi believed, not an unhappy fate. There was something
comforting about the knowledge that one lover would not have to
survive the other, that neither would be left alone.
He returned to his task, resolute.
==================
and 5) death of one Oraclys immediately upon the death of the
other.
According to the Archive of the Zevdrani Oraclyne, the
physical imprinting between the matched candidates is initiated
either by the intervention of outside telepathic influence,
i.e. a powerful telepath who weakens the natural barriers
between minds, or by an accident that causes a fundamental
shift in mental integrity. In the case of normal Oraclynes,
this initiation of imprinting occurs when a match is
identified, although this cannot be completed by the new
Oraclyne until both Oraclys are sexually mature.
==================
[I am not going to go into the matching process,] Obi-Wan
decided, [but I do need to mention what happened to us...]
Stretching, he sensed Master Healer Maki' Windsailor walking
down the path to their door. **Maki', am I glad you're here,**
he sent to their Oracine, with a wave of warmth for their
friend and Healer. **I've started on it.**
**Oh, that's wonderful!** Maki' returned, and leaked through a
hint of embarrassment at the warmth received from the young
Oraclys. Reaching the door to the cottage finally, he opened it
and strode into the common room, approaching Obi-Wan. Maki'
Windsailor, wearing his usual dark blue Master Healer's robe
over the light blue Healer Discipline tunics, was of a little
better than average height, his long, black hair held in place
by a leather thong around his head, his mustache and beard
trimmed short. His crystalline blue eyes twinkled as one Senior
Padawan Healer-Diplomat rose to hug him enthusiastically.
"Hello to you, too, Obi-Wan!"
Then he stood back and took a real look at him. "You've...
grown!"
Obi-Wan, dressed in the Diplomat cream tunics with the blue
Healer's tabard and sash, leaned his weight back on a heel and
grinned at their friend. "Yeah, I seem to have. You know, the
archive said the age differences between Qui-Gon and myself
would lessen... so I seem to have finished growing up, I
guess."
Indeed, the padawan had filled out, his shoulders broadening,
and he'd added a full two inches of height. Maki' looked him
over, marveling... in fact, his head was spinning to realize
this had all happened over the course of three weeks! "Obi-Wan!
Are you all right? I mean, with growth this fast..."
"I'm fine, Maki'," Obi-Wan interrupted, laughing. "No, I
didn't have 'growing pains'. Qui-Gon would certainly have
called you if there was something to worry about here." Then he
embraced their friend tightly. "I'm glad you're here, dear
Maki'," he murmured, impulsively kissing the man's cheek before
releasing him.
"What was THAT for?" Maki' asked, stunned. [We'll talk later
about the accelerated growth; I have to trust their judgment on
this.] But he smiled at the trickle of peace the gesture
bestowed, for he was very fond of both halves of the Jedi
Oraclyne, despite his attempts to remain emotionally detached.
To a point, that wasn't possible. As their Healer and their
Oracine - that peculiar function he'd apparently picked up
after being exposed to them long enough - he was by necessity
privy to their emotions and... to his dismay... the awareness
of their sexual and physical intimacy. It couldn't be helped,
apparently. The archive had made this clear, also giving a
strong suggestion that an Oracine seek a regular "outlet" for
the consequences of such... exposure. Maki' had no lover at the
moment, but he was Jedi, used to deprivation at need. Of course
he "took care of it" when alone, but that was NOT something he
would ever share with them, nor would they ever ask.
"Just want you to know you're appreciated," Obi-Wan sighed,
settling back down before the terminal. "Before you get dragged
in deeper."
"That is NOT going to happen, Padawan," Maki' insisted,
groaning. But he knew the young man had a point. There were...
tests... that needed to be done that would be very hard on them
all. One involved the Master Healer monitoring the Oraclyne
while they had sex. But it and the other tests were necessary
to determine the progress of their adjustment to the
imprinting. And to determine how close they were to Stage 2.
"We've discussed this, Obi-Wan... there are ways to keep me
from getting aroused to the point..." He broke off, turning to
walk into the kitchen where he intended to find something to
drink. Quick.
"How soon?" Obi-Wan asked through the open door.
Subconsciously he dialed up his awareness of his lover; Qui-Gon
was nearing the final moves of the jemna and would be coming
back in soon.
Maki' returned with a glass of juice, which he gulped before
looking at Obi-Wan. "Soon. You know, I thought this would taper
off once you two were having sex regularly, but I was wrong. As
we know now." He referred to a note near the end of the
Archive, a little reference to the Stage 2 transition
experience, which would prove to be potentially traumatic for
them all. It wasn't something that any of them wanted to think
about... for a few months, hopefully.
Qui-Gon came in then, and Obi-Wan could tell by the wave of
calm and peace he exuded that he'd been aware of the topic of
conversation. "Good to see you, Maki'," he murmured, but made
no move to touch the man, much less hug him. Nor did he greet
his lover with a kiss as he might have otherwise.
Maki' noted immediately the changes in the Jedi Master as
well. Years seemed to have dropped away from him, his hair
darkened and longer, lines on his face faded. [It's high time I
did those tests,] he thought to himself ruefully.
Qui-Gon walked past them both and laid his apprentice's
lightsaber on the common room table. "Thank you for the loan,
Padawan," he said a bit formally, then continued on, heading
for the refresher.
"You're welcome, Master," Obi-Wan murmured a bit dreamily.
Without realizing he'd done it, he'd dialed up his perception
of his beloved until he was fully attuned to him, feeling the
flush from the exercise in the long limbs and torso. The
sensory input stirred him to arousal.
**Obi-Wan.** Both Masters had spoken to him in nearly the same
tone, Qui-Gon's just a shade sharper.
The padawan straightened abruptly. "Oh..." Hastily he dialed
down his awareness of his Oraclys. **I'm so sorry - I do have
better control that that!**
**Do you?** Qui-Gon asked, slipping off the practice tunic and
leggings, then stepping into the shower.
Obi-Wan turned to see Maki' watching him carefully. **I do not
know,** he replied to them both. **As a Jedi I would seek to
control this, but as an Oraclys, perhaps I should run with my
instincts.**
**This is setting back your training and our Healer
studies,** came the firm response from the refresher. **Can
even the Oraclyne set aside being Jedi? Or perhaps I should
just speak for myself? I am Jedi before all of this. And Jedi I
will remain.**
To Maki's astonishment, Obi-Wan slipped off the bench and onto
his knees though Qui-Gon was not even in the room with them.
**Yes, Master,** he whispered in sudden fervor, then bowed in
half until his forehead touched the floor.
The Healer froze, bewildered. He could not read what was going
on in their mental bond, but he sensed the emotions. There was
a brief surge of fear... then it was gone, replaced with... he
could hardly believe it... a deep serenity settling within both
minds.
Long minutes passed in which no one spoke. Qui-Gon had
finished his shower quickly, and dressed in the Diplomat's
cream tunics and dark brown leggings. When he came back into
the common room, he looked first to the Healer. "Would you
please excuse us, Maki'?" he asked quietly.
"I will not," Maki' replied firmly. "I don't know exactly
what's going on here," and he gestured toward the prostrate
padawan, "but although you both seem way too calm, this is
unusual at best, and must be documented and observed as much as
any of the other tests we must go through."
Qui-Gon shrugged. He had his dark blue tabard in hand, and as
he spoke, he arranged the wide pieces on his shoulders. "Very
well. Then let me ask you - do you believe we should let the
Oraclyne connection have its way with us? Which, as we know,
seems to be that we should have as much sex with each other as
we can manage to have, to the exclusion of all other
responsibilities?" He put the wide blue sash around his waist
to hold the tabard in place, then fastened his belt over the
top of it. When done, he sat on the sofa.
Maki' did not shrink from the words or let himself get
embarrassed by the topic. "I know the Archive isn't clear
enough. While Stage 1 can take anywhere from a couple of weeks
to a few months, it does seem to say that the deeper the sexual
bond, the easier the transition to Stage 2 will be. You fear
the loss of control in the transition... so do I. So, on the
one hand, it seems that you both should be giving in to your
desires as much as possible, it remains on the other hand that
perhaps you should muster all the control you have... and
perhaps you can prevent your becoming a slave to the sexual
nature of your bond. I know that's what you fear."
The Master Healer-Diplomat returned the other man's gaze
placidly. "A Jedi must not allow desires to disturb their
focus. Perhaps I am prepared to resist the shredding of the
Jedi in us both at the expense of the Oraclyne."
Maki' stared at him, disbelieving. Not even a month ago a very
different - he thought - Qui-Gon Jinn was saying things much
too similar to this. A Qui-Gon suffering from psychosis.
Resisting the Oraclyne altogether, he'd wanted to have the
imprinting reversed completely, which at the time was already
impossible. "Qui," he breathed, shaking his head. "You can't
mean..."
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said to his student finally, "come here,
please." His voice was still calm, serene.
The padawan rose smoothly to sit on his heels, slipping his
hands into his wide tunic sleeves to clasp his forearms. Then
he stood, his eyes focused carefully on nothing. He walked with
dignity to his master, then sat down at his feet. As a large
hand came out to touch his hair, he leaned his head against his
master's knee, still unseeing.
[He trusts him completely,] Maki' noticed, frowning. [But they
both seem so calm. How can I...?] Then he knew what he must do.
He came and sat on the edge of the sofa. "Qui-Gon, I am your
Healer as well as your Oracine. Please let me in... I must see
for myself."
The other master nodded, his hand still resting on the
padawan's head. Then Qui-Gon closed his eyes, composing
himself, and lowered his shields for the Healer. **Padawan,**
he instructed mildly, and obediently the young man followed
suit.
2)
Maki' slipped first into the apprentice's mind. There he saw
the conviction that matched his master's. They must not lose
what made them Jedi. Underlying that was a respect and deep
admiration for his teacher, and the unbridled love. But the
trust did not seem misplaced. Maki' thought he understood then
- these two treasured the Order and could see themselves as
nothing but Jedi. Having read about the rest of their upcoming
transition had shaken that, for the reality could be that the
fullness of the Oraclyne would indeed threaten their command of
the... oh, no... the Force itself... [No wonder the reversion
to Master-Padawan roles, the deference... it's a way for them
to cling to being Jedi by resting in traditions, however
outdated they are... for their Discipline. But so far their
communion with the Force seems untouched...]
If Qui-Gon Jinn could meditate his way through the trauma of
the coming transition, he would, Maki' understood now. The
Healer withdrew from Obi-Wan's mind. For a minute he confirmed
what he had found in Qui-Gon's mind, then eased out altogether.
For a moment, Maki' composed himself as exposure to those two
great minds was daunting. Then he retreated into his own role,
all Jedi Healer now.
"Thank you, Master and Padawan," he murmured. "I am grateful
for the courtesy you extend me."
Carefully. "You are committed to our cause, Master Healer,"
Qui-Gon murmured. He was petting his young lover's hair now,
nothing but love... and Jedi discipline... in his emotions and
gestures. Obi-Wan remained calm, his eyes closed, no hint of
the earlier inadvertent arousal. "Consider this, Maki' - in
three weeks we have both read the entire Zevdrani archive, and
began our scientific studies. This would not have been possible
given our..." He gave their friend a wry smile. "...propensity
for sexual congress wherever and whenever."
Maki' had another thought. "You two, ah, seemed fine at the
ceremony..."
"And we were, then. This round of near constant arousal hit us
a couple days later." Qui-Gon's fingers found the base of the
young man's padawan braid. "Obi-Wan, you may add to the
discussion," he added.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes at that, coming back to himself. He
looked up and over at the Healer, and smiled, a playful light
in his eyes. "We got tired of constantly cleaning up,
actually."
"Oh, that, yes," Qui-Gon sighed. "And truthfully, I was unable
to keep up with him."
"Imagine that!" Obi-Wan chuckled. "I actually outlasted my
master at something."
"How did I miss all this?" Maki' asked worriedly. What they
described sounded a bit too much like what they would be facing
in the transition between Stage 1 - the adjustment to
imprinting - and Stage 2 - the settling of controls.
In-between, the transition...
It had happened that once, a couple hundred years ago, an
Oraclyne pair had died in the transition between these two
Stages. It had been discovered later that they hadn't been the
match it was thought they were. In the violent sexual frenzy
that had characterized the worst of the transition, they'd
literally torn each other apart.
"You were at the Temple," Qui-Gon reminded him.
"Hiding at the Temple," Obi-Wan offered helpfully, grinning.
"And the... tendency hasn't let up yet? Or gotten worse?"
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged glances. "We allow ourselves to
indulge twice a day," the padawan answered for them both.
"Morning and night... but we've maintained a fairly usual
schedule otherwise. Meditation, exercise, lightsaber practice,
study..."
"You've finished your new lightsaber?" Maki' interrupted,
looking at the other Master intently. It was important to get
him past his contempt for the Jedi weapon.
"No," Qui-Gon replied, glancing down. "For now I've repaired
the old one. It works well enough for training purposes."
Obi-Wan gave his master a look. "He's been designing a new
one, Maki'. But it's... not ready."
The hesitation told the Healer there was another story in here
somewhere. For now, he let it go. "All right, so keeping to a
steady Jedi regimen has helped, er, control the urges?" He held
the elder Jedi's gaze, challenging him to adequately explain
the decision.
Qui-Gon's intense blue eyes narrowed slightly. "A Jedi chooses
order over chaos, evolution over entropy... control over
frenzy."
Though the Master Healer-Diplomat was daunting, from a
perspective of position in the Order as well as personal power,
Maki' Windsailor could not afford to yield to the other's
pressure, inadvertent or not. He had no doubt Jinn did not mean
to pressure him. Qui-Gon Jinn just WAS. Maki' had been working
hard for over a month to get over that simple fact. "Why did
your padawan abase himself before you?"
The intense blue eyes widened in shock at the blunt question.
But it was not he who answered. "He never asked me to do that,"
Obi-Wan replied immediately, his eyes gone momentarily hard,
his voice low and firm. "I chose to do that in order to
discipline my own desires. If you must know, the act calms me."
"Padawan," Qui-Gon warned softly.
Obi-Wan rose to his feet in one fluid, graceful motion,
turning to face the Masters. "He's my center, Master Maki'. And
he is my life. When I bow to him, I bow in acknowledgment and
acceptance of that fact of my life. I embrace my well-entwined
future with him." He spoke coolly and with utter conviction.
"I see," Maki' said after a long pause, feeling a little small
in the face of such strength. The young man had spoken as an
adult twice his age, as if time and experience already weighed
on him.
Maki' reminded himself. Obi-Wan was older, having
matured rapidly. And there was there a new breadth to his chest
and shoulders... and he was taller. [He's reached his adult
height,] the Healer noted, still amazed, then made himself note
the rest. Master Jinn now bore no trace of silver in his long -
longer? - dark brown hair, his face mostly unlined.
The Oraclyne connection. Visible signs of the "adjustment" at
last - Obi-Wan now appeared closer to his mid-twenties, while
Qui-Gon could be mistaken for no more than forty. The nearly
thirty-year gap between them was already shortened to something
closer to fifteen. [Incredible...]
"My master," Obi-Wan murmured, bowing from the waist, "I
request permission to go take a run, please."
**Because of the growth spurt,** Qui-Gon explained to the
Healer when he frowned. **I see you've noticed.**
**Yes... and the changes in you as well,** Maki' replied
silently.
"Yes, Padawan, you may go," Qui-Gon replied, nodding. But as
Obi-Wan bowed again quickly then jogged off, there was a faint
flutter of warmth in the Force that surrounded him, a parting
gift from a loving master.
Obi-Wan threw a grin back over his shoulder, then was gone out
the back.
"He does that at least once a day to burn off energy," Qui-Gon
explained, then looked back at Maki'. "Is everything all right
now, Maki'? I know this has been a little strained. I'm sorry
for that."
Strained wasn't the best word. [I should have been here all
along, monitoring these physical changes at the least,] Maki'
thought, restraining an itch to call after the young man to
have him come back. "I want to examine him later...
thoroughly," he said a little grumpily. "Like as soon as he
comes back. In fact, I want to get started on these tests. I
can see I've let this go too long."
Qui-Gon felt the unspoken chastisement deeply. Everything was
not all right. "I would have called you if there were
problems," he said quietly.
"At which time it might have been too late to do anything,"
Maki' retorted. He pushed off from the sofa abruptly.
"Where are you going?" Qui-Gon asked, concerned.
"Take off your tunics and lay down on the sofa," the Healer
ordered over his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.
In moments, he'd retrieved the medkit he'd left here once
before.
Contrite, the other Master complied, then lay down, knees bent
to make his long legs fit. "What do you want me to do?" he
asked mildly. He could see there was no arguing with their
friend.
Maki' set a large cushion on the floor before the sofa, then
plopped down on it with the kit. "Go into a receptive trance,
Qui," he said with a gentler tone than before. "You've
physically regressed at least seven years from what I can tell
and I intend to find out just what changes that entails." He
was pulling a cluster of medreads out of the bag as he talked.
"I also want to determine if we can expect you to regress much
more."
Qui-Gon nodded, and was about to close his eyes when a hand
settled on his arm. He looked over into crystal blue eyes
filled with compassion and concern. He took the hand into his.
In a moment the growing tension between them eased like a taut
wire in the Force being relaxed.
"I'm not behaving much like a Healer," Maki' admitted, giving
him a wry smile.
"Oh, I don't know," Qui-Gon smiled back, "you were ordering a
senior Master around. I'd say that constitutes Healer
behavior."
"But we're not like that... I'm not like that, Qui."
Sighing, Maki' rubbed his thumb against the back of the other's
hand. "I'm dismayed I haven't made time to be on top of your
situation more. And I'm concerned about these physical changes.
I hadn't expected them to be so dramatic... so soon."
Qui-Gon levered up to lean on an elbow. "I'm sorry... as I've
seen Obi-Wan most of every day, the changes were less apparent
to me... but I can see you're right. He has grown up a lot in
the last month." He squeezed the hand in his in reassurance.
"You needed the time with T'kennu. And to soak up a bit of the
Temple before you had to deal with us again."
"You make it sound like a burden," Maki' whispered, his throat
tight.
Before he could react, the elder Master had released his hand
and drawn an arm around him, pulling him close against his
shoulder. Immediately Maki' felt a warm wash of calm sift into
his mind, soothing his worries and frustrations. "Oh..." he
exhaled, finding himself resting his head against Qui-Gon's,
absorbing the calm into himself. "How..."
"Shhh..."
**Obi-Wan did this to me, too,** Maki' said in the silence,
**though not this deeply. The Oraclyne or is it instinctive?
Did you react to a need you sensed in me? Was...**
**Shhhh...** Qui-Gon repeated mentally. **Feel, don't think.
Let your heart calm completely.**
**You sound like T'kennu...**
**Shhhh...**
Maki' allowed the quiet to permeate then, letting the Healing
peace from the Oraclys find its way into the corners of his
mind. Even the scientist in him was hushed finally.
A few minutes later Qui-Gon kissed his cheek gently then
released him, lying back down on the sofa. "You can proceed
with your tests when you're ready," he murmured, closing his
eyes.
The Master Healer felt like he'd been meditating for an hour,
completely at peace and in harmony with the universe, the Force
flowing through him sweetly like a sacred stream of unsurpassed
beauty. He sat back, his eyes still closed. **Thank you, dear
Qui,** he sent back, awed.
**I believe that was what the archive called the 'Oraclyne
Need', hmmm? The need to give, to heal, to calm. You're very
welcome, dear Maki'.**
Maki' remembered the extremely high empathy rating of this
man. And his apprentice. [Wow. This is what is going to be
quadrupled when they work together.] Taking a deep breath, he
picked up the medreads again and began placing them on
Qui-Gon's body. Jedi Artificer-designed, they activated through
Force resonance initiated by the Healer, kept in place by
simple suction. It was a very new design, actually, recently
introduced at the Temple. This was going to be his first use of
them.
"Elegant design," Qui-Gon commented, his eyes flying open when
he realized the medreads were not as expected. The older type
required a web of input attachments. Maki' was applying four -
to the temple, to the base of his throat, to above his heart,
and the last just above his groin.
"Yes, something new at last," Maki' smiled, then paused to use
the Force to set the resonances. When he was done, they gave
off a barely subtle hum. He frowned. "They're not supposed to
do that... figures. Why an Artificer would try to design Healer
devices..."
"Let me look at that," Qui-Gon said suddenly. He took the one
from his forehead and gave it a gentle tug. It popped off into
his hand. He peered at it, then closed his eyes. "Oh," he said
after a moment, then glanced over at Maki'. "They're not
aligned... you said an Artificer designed this?"
The Artificer Discipline, while made up of extraordinary
engineers who were wizards with droids, starships, land
vehicles, security systems and data networks in general,
studiously avoided specific designing for the other
Disciplines. It was a quirk of the Discipline that could only
be explained by the Artificer's clannish attitudes. Too
clannish, in the opinion of some masters like Qui-Gon Jinn and
Yoda.
"Yes," Maki' said, then sighed. "I should explain. A month ago
the Healer Temple acquired a... visitor. A potential transfer
to our Discipline. Anyway, as he was being given the standard
physical, he got impatient and took some of the monitoring
equipment away with him to study. T'kennu said to let him do
what he wanted for now. A week later, we had these. And you're
right, I didn't have a chance to align these."
"A Master Artificer?" Qui-Gon asked, curious. As he spoke, he
applied the Force to the small device until a soft click was
heard.
"Go ahead, align the rest," Maki' said, smiling, then sobered.
"No, that's just the problem. And he's not really a transfer.
He's a Padawan Artificer, but apparently he qualified fully in
the Discipline, years early. I believe he wants to study
Healing now."
"Odd combination," Qui-Gon commented, working on the other
three medreads.
"He was basically thrown out of the Discipline, from what I
understand," Maki' added with a sigh.
Qui-Gon looked up. "It doesn't sound like you've talked to him
personally."
Maki' shook his head. "No, only T'kennu has, and I believe it
was Gali who literally found him on our doorstep. It seems the
young man isn't talking to anyone."
Finishing the last medread, Qui-Gon set it in place. "Sounds
like he's deeply troubled. You called him a visitor? If he's
not Knighted, he'll need a Master if he wants further
training."
"T'kennu says to wait, let him be for now. He doesn't seem to
know what he really wants. Letting him work on the medreads
seemed to be a way to draw him in, make him feel useful, but it
only seems to have increased his frustration. As he - Tevis,
that's his name - as Tevis wants to be alone most of the time,
T'kennu sent him here to the retreat center." Maki' sighed
deeply. "I'm not sure he will be able to stay in the Order,
Qui."
Now that the medreads were working, the Healer set up his
monitoring equipment and began his tests. Qui-Gon closed his
eyes again and relaxed. "Sounds like he needs a friend," he
murmured in response after a minute.
3)
Obi-Wan was running full out, feeling free and wild and in
harmony with the vibrant Living Force of the planet. It was
almost like performing a jemna, only there was no preset form
to it, just the attentive alertness and response to the
terrain. He leaped over fallen tree trunks, ducked under low
branches, sidestepped rocks, all at his top running speed. And
on occasion he laughed as he ran, feeling happy and loved.
What was best, his newly filled out body felt marvelous. It
was the biggest wonder to him these last weeks, to feel his
body settling into its adult shape and height. And completely
unexpectedly... the transformation had not hurt. He'd lost his
adolescent skinniness and the youthful fullness to his cheeks,
putting on just enough muscle and weight on his limbs, chest,
and shoulders. Obi-Wan did not want to fall prey to pride, but
it did seem that his beloved's eagerness for him - when they
allowed those intimacies - had increased as a result. As had
the heat in Qui-Gon's eyes when he gazed at his body.
Even now that his growth had apparently ceased, he was filled
with excess energy. Running like this would drain enough of
that off so that when he returned, he could sit at the data
terminal for another few hours, working on the archive. The
archive...
His thoughts settled back into organizing the concepts he
wanted to explain in their new Oraclyne archive. On he ran, his
instincts, reflexes, and Force-sense on automatic pilot as he
planned for later.
When the interruption came, something in the Force told him to
allow it. Acquiescing, Obi-Wan let himself run smack into the
man who suddenly dropped out of the trees in front of him. The
two rolled over once, then both young men, like dancers, sprang
back to their feet again, facing one another. To Obi-Wan's
surprise, the other had drawn a lightsaber, the blade a deep
amber, similar in color to his tunics. Artificer.
He didn't react to the weapon. "You stopped me just fine,"
Obi-Wan grinned, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
"Something you want to talk to me about? My name is Obi-Wan
Kenobi, by the way. You?"
The Artificer - a padawan, Obi-Wan noted belatedly, seeing the
dark braid - stood frozen, regarding him as if he was a
poisonous animal. A quick glance told the Artificer that the
man he'd stopped was unarmed, something he found shocking, as
he was clearly a Jedi Padawan as he was. "Where's your
lightsaber?" he growled.
Obi-Wan was taking in detail. The other was a bit taller than
he, perhaps six feet tall, dark straight hair cut padawan-short
in the back and sides, but allowed to grow longer on the top
and front, unruly. His eyes as far as he could tell in the
slanting sunlight were some nebulous color, possibly green.
Human. His fighter's stance was Jedi-exact and Obi-Wan could
feel the coiled energy ready to spring loose. Despite the
apparent ire, there was no anger directed specifically at
Obi-Wan. The man's shields were rock hard, impressively so.
[There is pain in his eyes,] he noted soberly before speaking.
[A great deal of it.] "I left it at the cottage it seems,"
Obi-Wan replied mildly, keeping his posture relaxed and his
hands visible and open, the picture of non-confrontation.
"Master will have a word with me on that, I'm sure."
One dark eye narrowed, then the lightsaber was deactivated and
returned to the young man's belt. He glanced at Obi-Wan's
clothes which were more visible in a patch of sunlight.
"Diplomat... with a blue tabard? What are you?" He sounded
angry at that, but again, the anger was inward, not outward.
Obi-Wan smiled, but reminded himself to be careful. If he
appeared too dismissing of the other, or treated him too
lightly, it could only upset the other more. "I am a strange
hybrid, I'll admit. For the lack of a better term, I'm a
Healer-Diplomat."
"That's impossible!" the other snapped. "You can only belong
to one Discipline!"
He shrugged. "It doesn't make sense that a Jedi must study
only one Discipline if they have the aptitude to handle two,"
Obi-Wan commented neutrally. "Does it? And what's your name?"
The Padawan Artificer jammed his arms into the sleeves of his
tunic; he, like Obi-Wan, was in the woods without his robe.
"Tevis Farolo. The Disciplines do not allow cross-study. The
Council does not allow it." He pronounced his last name
"Far'-low".
Obi-Wan gestured gracefully at his own tabard. "Someone does,
Tevis. Both my Master and I are here to study the Healer
sciences and arts." [That's enough to hit him with,] he added
to himself ruefully.
"No," Tevis muttered, mostly to himself. To Obi-Wan's wonder,
something about the young man seemed to pull inward as if he
was slipping into some sort of protective mode. "Not allowed."
"Allowed," Obi-Wan countered cheerfully. "Hey, you want to run
with me?"
"What?" Tevis asked, stunned. He didn't seem able to process
the request for a moment and he seemed ready to leap out of his
skin. "Why?"
Obi-Wan shrugged, still smiling, carefully not reacting to the
young man's twitchy behavior. "I could use the challenge and
you're the first person anywhere near my age I've seen in
weeks. Come on, it'll feel good." He boldly made as if to pass
by him, tugging on his sleeve.
Tevis jerked away. "Feel good?" he asked, incredulous.
[Don't let it get to you, Kenobi,] Obi-Wan told himself,
keeping his demeanor calm. [There's just something wrong here.
Wait it out.] "Sure," he said, dropping his voice to a soothing
tone. He laid a hand on the other's arm again, deliberate.
"Running feels good, you know, like working through a jemna
that you've mastered. You do learn jemnas in the Artificers,
don't you?" The last was added teasingly.
The man was distracted, looking at the hand touching him.
Something in that touch seemed to have melted away the anger.
He felt as if he were watching it drain down a pipe... gone.
"Yeah," he muttered, finally, in response to the question. Then
he shrugged the hand off again, but something in the action
seemed as if he was pulling on a mask. A survival mechanism?
"I'll show you jemnas... someday." He looked up at Obi-Wan
finally, and gave a snort. "You're a pretty cocky little
hotshot, Kenobi, you know that? Run against you? Yeah, I think
I can do that."
Abruptly Tevis shot off into the woods. "See if you can catch
me, Diplomat!" he hollered back.
Obi-Wan started off, shaking his head. [Run against me?
This isn't a race... oh, well...] He grinned as he ran after
the other, thinking he might have broken the ice just a
little...
When Maki' finally let Qui-Gon up off the sofa, he was
smiling, to the elder's relief. "So, I'm going to live?" he
asked dryly, sitting up.
Maki' chuckled. "For a very long time, Zevdrani. But you knew
that. Of course, you're in excellent physical condition... for
a man of forty. Or possibly less. I can tell you that your
increased sexual activity has been good for you." He had the
grace to smirk.
Qui-Gon stood, shrugging his tunics back on. "Increased? I
didn't have that much when I was his age... or since. Rae and
Jil..." He paused, putting away the momentary surge of regret.
"I mean, I've had lovers off and on. It's just never been this
intense... for so long." He sighed with deep satisfaction.
"Never expected... this... even with him."
The other nodded sympathetically, not feeling a twinge of
envy. "How long have you been in love with him?"
Smiling, Qui-Gon finished replacing his belt over his sash.
"I've known, felt for sometime that we were destined to be
together. But it was only about a year ago that I allowed
myself to fall in love with him. I still intended to wait until
his Knighting to be with him." He sighed again. "He's maturing
so beautifully... I no longer fear what this does to his
training. The vow ceremony has even settled him more, Maki'."
Maki' regarded the tall Master curiously. "What do you sense
from him now? Do you know where he is?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "I can't NOT know. I mean I can just not pay
attention to it, but I will KNOW." He grinned suddenly.
"Actually, I believe he may have run into your Artificer. He
encountered someone very strange just a bit ago."
"Really!" Maki' felt a flood of relief. "Oh, if Obi-Wan could
make a connection with him..."
He was shocked to hear the other master actually laugh.
"Maki', you know you're going to take him as your Padawan..."
"No," Maki' countered immediately. His face darkened for a
moment. "I can't be responsible for someone like that.
Not now. I have you two to manage."
Qui-Gon got in his face. "You're not MANAGING us, Maki',
you're studying us. And that young man needs someone of your
sensitivity."
"No," Maki' said flatly. He shook his head vehemently, backing
away.
Qui-Gon let him go, but filed the reaction away. He may have
to talk to T'kennu about this. "Well, Obi-Wan will be good for
him, I think. And possibly vice versa. I know he's missed his
friends on Coruscant."
"Tevis is a psychological MESS, Qui." Maki' was still shaking
his head. "I wouldn't know where to start with him. I think he
may really need Healer help, not just a new Master. He's got...
he's got... ISSUES, and..."
The elder Jedi Master saw the dismay come over his face.
"Maki', you said you haven't even talked to him. Aren't you
over-reacting?" He kept his voice calm.
"Yes," Maki' admitted sheepishly. "Really, you two are enough
on my platter, thank you very much."
"Fine," Qui-Gon shrugged. "A Padawan Artificer who wants to
study Healing and designs Force-activated medical equipment?
I'm looking forward to meeting him, myself." He turned a last
smirk on the Master Healer, then headed outside to meditate.
Obi-Wan managed to catch up to the longer-legged Artificer
with a couple Force-bursts in more clear sections. "Come back
to my cottage!" he called, breathing deeply and easily. He
stopped suddenly to see what the other would say.
Tevis stopped a little further away. "What was that, Dip?"
[Ouch,] Obi-Wan thought to himself. The nickname was an
Artificer term of derision for their Diplomat brothers in the
Order. "I said, why don't you come with me back to my cottage?"
The other approached with a definite slink to his walk. "Is
that a come-on, Kenobi-Dip?"
Obi-Wan laughed, though he played along, putting his hands on
his hips and leaning his weight on one foot in a minorly
seductive pose as the other reached him. "No, Arty-Tev, that
wasn't a come-on."
"Too bad," Tevis muttered, letting his gaze rove over the
other man's body appreciatively. "I don't think you'd know what
do with me anyway."
"You'd be surprised," Obi-Wan said dryly. "Is this how
Artificers make friends, Arty-Tev? By insulting them and making
lewd suggestions? And challenging them to a competition? The
race, I mean. Which was a draw by the way, in case you're
keeping score."
Tevis's eyes turned flinty as he regarded the shorter man.
"Dip..." He fairly spat the term. "Why would I want to be your
friend?"
"For better reasons than why you'd want me for a lover, I
assure you," Obi-Wan replied easily, not rising to the other's
provocation. "You've got my friendship if you want it."
Suddenly the Artificer's eyes widened. "You're the one that
had that vow ceremony a few weeks ago."
"That would be me, yes." [What's this about?]
Different emotions flicked across the Artificer's face -
sorrow, loss, bewilderment... anger. "You bowed down to him -
your master. Did he put that in the ceremony?"
[I'm guessing he didn't see Qui-Gon do the same to me,]
Obi-Wan thought, wondering at the reaction. "Of course not. I
was feeling emotional; it let me get my head together, nothing
more." [Nothing you could understand...]
"Emotional...!" Tevis spat the word out. "Did he punish you
for that later?"
Obi-Wan looked at the other padawan in complete shock. "WHAT?
Punish me? What are you talking about?"
"Discipline, punishment, keeping you in your proper place,
keeping you down, what the hell do you think I'm talking
about?" Tevis began to circle him, mocking his stance by
putting his hands to his own hips. "Or do they have some
special name for it in the Diplomats?"
"Master Qui-Gon would never treat me like that," Obi-Wan
breathed a little hotly, bewildered at the other's indignation.
"I do not know any master who would."
"Sheltered little Dip, he can't have been much of a Master,
then..." Tevis snorted.
Obi-Wan gaped at him. The man was lying. Everything in him,
his stance, his expression, the tone of voice, and certainly
the fluttering in the Force around him said that his words were
a lie. That he wanted to say the exact opposite. And something
was preventing him from the admission. Something powerful.
"You do not know what you are talking about," Obi-Wan
breathed. "Master Qui-Gon Jinn has always been a loving, caring
Master who treats me with respect. He is hard on me, however.
He demands a lot of me, but that is exactly as I expect. I need
his firmness just as I need his love."
"Love!" Tevis laughed hard, bitterly. "He's got you in his
bed, doesn't he!" A quick spike of pure venom surged forth in
the Force at the statement.
[Who has been this poor slob's master and can I kill him?]
Obi-Wan thought, his head spinning. "It's not like you think,
not at all." He swallowed carefully, then added, "Come and meet
my master. One of the Master Healers is visiting us as well. Do
you know Master Windsailor?"
"I know what I think," Tevis muttered. "No, I don't know any
Windsailor." Then, abruptly, it was as if something within him
deflated completely. "You don't want to be my friend anyway."
Obi-Wan frowned. [I do for the simple reason I'm itching to
figure this nut out,] he thought, but said aloud, "Yes, I do. I
don't blame you for your false assumptions. You don't know any
better..."
"You don't KNOW what I know!" Tevis threw back at him, then
without warning pulled Obi-Wan to him and kissed him.
Instead of pulling away immediately, Obi-Wan just held still
and let the other kiss him, though fortunately Tevis did not
attempt to deepen it. Instinctively Obi-Wan seemed to know that
Tevis was terribly afraid of rejection. There were mysteries
upon mysteries here - where was his master? What had his master
done to him? Why was he on Dantooine?
He felt no arousal, of course. Couldn't... not anymore, not
since becoming Qui-Gon's Oraclys, he knew. Obi-Wan relaxed into
it and subconsciously - as before - sent calm to the other
through the physical contact. It was the natural Oraclyne
response to disturbance in any form in another being.
After a minute, Tevis broke the kiss, his eyes closed,
breathing deeply. He still held onto Obi-Wan's upper arms as if
loathe to break the contact. Finally he opened his eyes and
looked into the green-tinged, gray eyes regarding him solemnly.
"Well. I suppose you think I should be grateful you didn't
shove me away."
"I didn't think that at all, Tev," Obi-Wan replied quietly.
"It was nice... but I must apologize for not responding more.
You're very attractive, Tev. I just would rather have you as a
friend." [At least he's calmed down some. Did I do that?]
"Friend," Tevis echoed with a snort. "I hear you, Dip, loud
and clear. I know you think I'm a nutcase. I'm some manic
techno-flitz with a chip on my shoulder, eh?" He released
Obi-Wan and backed up, though his body language said he'd have
far rather preferred to stay where he was.
"You have anger within you, yes," Obi-Wan murmured, glancing
down at the forest floor beneath their feet. "And you don't
understand. I did not respond only because... I'm already
committed to someone. Sorry. But I do like you and I do want to
be friends."
Tevis looked away off through the trees. "Committed. Huh. How
terrible for you. Love steals souls and twists hearts until
they're black and hard. That is, if there is such a thing as
love in the first place." He glanced back, his eyes gone dark.
"I doubt it."
"You've been hurt," Obi-Wan whispered, looking up again. "I'm
sorry..." [Well, if he didn't want love from me, it must have
just been sex... interesting.]
Suddenly the fire was back. "Don't be - I'm here, I'm away
from... and I'm not hurt. I'm just never going to let...
never..." There was a blaze of... something... in his eyes.
Then Tevis abruptly sprinted off into the woods again.
[He's heading right for our cottage, good,] Obi-Wan thought as
he hastily took off after him.
4)
Qui-Gon was prematurely rising from his meditative trance,
sensing something odd from his beloved. Then came the
diamond-sharp thought.
**Qui-Gon... Master.**
**Obi-Wan?** The Jedi Master took a deep breath, centering.
**Trouble is on its way. His name is Tevis Farolo.** There was
a wash of concern mixed with a little humor.
**I'm guessing that's the Padawan Artificer that Maki' has
told me about,** Qui-Gon replied.
**Did Maki' say why he's on Dantooine? He's got as many
puzzles as my arm is long. Oh, and don't be alarmed, but he
kissed me.**
Qui-Gon sent a careful tendril of loving regard to his mate.
**I think I know how that went - right?**
The tendril was returned, entwined with a thread of amusement.
**Well, at least now I know the archive was dead on in that
regard. I felt nothing, of course. I let him down very easy.
Though he doesn't know that the light of my life is you, just
that I'm... involved. By the way, he thought you should have
punished me for abasing myself to you in public at the
ceremony.**
**What? Did he fail to notice that I was hugging the ground
myself a few minutes later?** Qui-Gon kept still, but he
frowned at this.
**Oh, yes, missed that completely.** A chuckle came through
their bond. **This Artificer has some very strange notions.**
Qui-Gon paused. He'd had plenty of dealings with Artificers
over his nearly thirty years of field work. They could be
fiercely clannish, shunning the other Disciplines. They tended
to be loud, rude, competitive, and often obsessive about their
technological wonders, many of which did not make it into the
hands of other Jedi. Definitely they were not known for
possessing members with empathic potential.
Obi-Wan, on the other hand, had come up against them little in
his apprenticeship. **They are... strange, Padawan. I'm afraid
the Order has looked the other way when it comes to how each
Discipline manages their members. Especially their apprentices.
If there is anything unusual about Tevis - and from the little
I've gathered from Maki' I'm guessing he could be very unusual
- he has likely had a very difficult apprenticeship.**
**I'm trying to make friends with him,** Obi-Wan sent back.
**He's... well, you'll see. We seem to be heading your way. In
fact, you should see us in a moment...**
Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon looked over the practice field
to the woods beyond. He saw the two padawans just emerging from
under the trees, jogging toward the cottage. **Maki',** he sent
to their Healer, **we have a visitor...**
When Tevis saw their destination, he pulled up short. But when
Obi-Wan continued to jog past him, he followed, though more
slowly.
Obi-Wan slowed to a walk as he reached the stone patio, then
stopped before his master who was rising to his feet. Though he
knew Tevis would be watching - in disapproval, no doubt - he
bowed quickly to his teacher. "Master, I've brought home a
friend," he said in greeting, winking at him.
Qui-Gon smiled down at him with approval and affection, and
reached to finger the slim padawan braid briefly. "Indeed you
have, Padawan." His hand fell to his apprentice's shoulder.
Maki' came out of the cottage then, and joined them on the
patio, looking in the direction they were looking. To his
shock, he saw Padawan Artificer Tevis Farolo coming towards
them across the practice field.
"Hey, Tevis, I want you to meet my master," Obi-Wan called,
leaving Qui-Gon's side to approach the young man.
"You steered me here," Tevis bit off tightly as Obi-Wan came
near.
"I did not," Obi-Wan replied lightly, smiling. "You were
leading." Then they reached the patio. "Master, this is Tevis
Farolo. Tev, this is Master Jinn."
Tev took one furtive glance at the very tall, foreboding
figure of the Jedi Master, and a moment later was on his knees,
staring at the man's boots. "Master Jinn," he murmured in a
chilly, shallow voice that was unlike anything Obi-Wan had
heard from him.
Everyone froze for a moment. Obi-Wan as well as Maki' stared
at the young man as if he'd grown a third eye and two more
arms.
"Get off your knees, Padawan," Qui-Gon said firmly though with
a note of kindness. "A Senior Padawan does not greet a Master
like that on Dantooine or Coruscant unless he is expecting
punishment. I don't know exactly how things are on Corellia,
but are you expecting punishment, Padawan Farolo?"
Tevis flinched as if struck - and had probably been expecting
it. He got to his feet hastily, though was unable to raise his
eyes. "No, sir."
"Good," Qui-Gon replied cheerfully. "You've been here, what,
three weeks, four? Time to get used to how things are done in
the rest of the Order. Oh, this is Master Healer Maki'
Windsailor..." He indicated the other master, who was frankly
staring.
Maki' pulled himself together abruptly. "I've been looking
forward to meeting you, Tevis," he said nodding at the young
man when he glanced over quickly. "In fact, I was using your
new medreader design on Master Qui-Gon earlier. Very handy,
those."
"Design?" Obi-Wan interrupted with delight. "Oh, so that's why
you're here, to design medical equipment? I'd like to see
those, Tev!"
"No," Tevis said quickly, blushing, then added, "I mean,
that's not why..." He broke off, flustered.
Obi-Wan noted carefully - Tevis had not truly looked either
master in the eye, and indeed they seemed to make him very
uncomfortable. [Oh, no...] "Whatever," he said quickly,
brushing it off. "You want something to drink, Tev? After all
that running, I'm parched."
"Y...yes," Tevis stammered, then when Obi-Wan tugged at his
sleeve, he meekly went with him. Together the two young men
went into the cottage, leaving the masters on the veranda.
When the door had closed behind them, Maki' turned to Qui-Gon.
"You see what I mean? The young man is neurotic as hell..."
"And how do you suppose he got that way?" Qui-Gon murmured
quietly.
"I..." Maki' stopped, looking at the other master in wonder.
"T'kennu said only that his records seem... incomplete. Like
the file was stripped before being sent to him. Like the
Artificers only wanted us to know certain things."
"And what was left?" Qui-Gon crossed his arms over his chest,
regarding him curiously.
Maki' shrugged. "Tevis has completed all of his higher level
Artificer work. All of it. The certification is there, signed
by Master Artificer Gannen Freewall."
"I know Freewall," the other responded, nodding. "I've often
thought he was one of the few reasons the Council hasn't run
roughshod over the entire Discipline before now."
"Anyway," Maki' continued with a sigh, "Tevis was effectively
released by the Artificers for 'unsuitability'. Passed
everything they threw at him - he's clearly brilliant - and
then they dumped him for whatever reason. He asked to come
here, apparently, and they arranged his transportation. That
was it. Dumped. I suppose that's reason enough to make him
flinchy."
Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, there's far more. I sense deep
inner trauma." He sighed, then gestured toward the house. "I
think I'm thirsty, too. Shall we join them?"
"You're on, Kenobi-Dip," Tevis was chuckling. "Tomorrow
morning at eleven-hour on your practice field. Be sure you have
your lightsaber with you or I'll have to take your head off
with mine."
"It doesn't have to be..." Obi-Wan was exasperated. "Does
everything have to be a competition with you? I just want
someone different to practice with. Is that asking too much?"
"Nah, not for a wimpy Dip, it isn't." Tevis, for the moment
quite relaxed, took a swig of bright blue terraber juice from
his glass.
"Arty-Tev, someday..."
"More of that juice available?" Qui-Gon asked, strolling into
the kitchen, smiling. "Or did you young paddiewoks drink it all
up?"
Obi-Wan laughed with delight, ignoring how his new friend
froze in horror. "Master, you haven't called me a paddiewok
since I was fourteen!"
"No?" Qui-Gon handed a glass to Maki', then fished the pitcher
of blue juice from the cooler. "I've been remiss, it seems.
Unfortunately one does not call a Senior Padawan 'paddiewok'."
He winked at Tevis, who stared uncomfortably. "No matter how
cute and cuddly they are."
"Really, Qui-Gon!" Maki' coughed.
"Who's cute and cuddly?" Obi-Wan asked in mock indignation,
then added silently and privately, **You might not want to
answer that...**
"I didn't say any particular Senior Padawans were cute and
cuddly," Qui-Gon countered smoothly. He took a long swallow of
juice. **You are... and we will explore that concept much, much
later, Padawan.**
**Yes, Master.**
"Now, young padawan," Qui-Gon continued on to his apprentice,
"did I just hear you refer to your friend and guest as
'Arty-Tev'?"
"Ah...!" Obi-Wan opened and closed his mouth, well and truly
caught. "We were just joking. Weren't we, Tevis?"
Qui-Gon turned to the Artificer, careful to speak adult to
adult. "Did you find that offensive? I apologize; I do not
encourage my apprentice to use those inappropriate little terms
that some in various Disciplines seem fond of calling one
another."
Tevis blanched. "N...no," he managed to say... and nothing
more. Not to own up to starting it, not to say that it was the
normal manner of speech where he had come from, or to apologize
for using it as well.
"I'm sorry, Master... sorry, Tev," Obi-Wan said contritely.
"Such behavior is beneath a Senior Padawan. I will meditate an
extra half hour this evening."
Qui-Gon nodded. **He started it, didn't he?** he asked
privately.
**Well, yes, but that's no excuse...**
**In this case, it was probably warranted. You were trying to
establish common ground with him. Skip the extra meditation and
make sure you do not talk to him like that where I can hear you
again.**
**Yes, Master, dear,** Obi-Wan returned, wanting to grin at
his master, but he settled for looking chastened for Tevis's
benefit.
"Tevis, do you hope to design more pieces of equipment for the
Healers?" Qui-Gon asked, sipping from his glass, leaning
casually against the kitchen counter.
The Artificer padawan looked up abruptly, startled. "Ah... I
don't know... perhaps, Master," he managed to say. He glanced
guiltily at Maki', then looked away.
**What was THAT for?** Maki' asked Qui-Gon privately, feeling
nearly as uncomfortable in the awkward situation.
**He will not presume to tell the Healer Discipline that their
equipment is outdated,** Qui-Gon returned. "It's a wonderful
gift," the elder master said aloud. "And something about which
I've always been amazed."
"What?" Tevis blurted out, frowning as he shot Qui-Gon a look.
Almost immediately he dropped his eyes.
"If you're conversing with another, Padawan Farolo," Qui-Gon
murmured gently, "you ought to look at them. Now, as I was
saying, I admire anyone who can look beyond the needs of their
Discipline to share their gifts more widely."
Tevis made himself look up at the tall Master. He was not used
to being spoken to so directly and certainly had never thought
of his tinkering as a "gift". "Sir, with all due respect," he
replied evenly, "I do not have a 'gift'. I am an aberration and
an embarrassment to the Order and my Discipline. So, please,
save your pretty words for..." He shot a glance at Obi-Wan
suddenly, then his expression closed up. "Padawan Kenobi, thank
you for the juice. I must be going. Masters..." He inclined his
head and bowed.
"You're wrong, Padawan," Qui-Gon said quietly as Tevis brushed
past him, aiming for the door.
Tevis froze for a moment, then continued on.
When the front door shut again, Maki' blew out his breath.
"You see what I mean, Qui? Who could work with that?"
The Oraclyne turned and gave the Healer an amazed look. "I
like him," Obi-Wan said bluntly. Qui-Gon added, "Underneath the
self-contempt and fear is a fire we would do well to cultivate,
Maki'."
Obi-Wan neared him suddenly, and placed a hand over the man's
chest. "Maki'?"
Maki' looked down into the wide, honest eyes and felt the
peace of his touch sifting into him. "All right. The truth is,
I'm afraid. Qui, the boy doesn't need a master, he needs a
counselor."
"A padawan's master is a counselor," Qui-Gon murmured.
"I tell you what, Maki', we'll let Obi-Wan loose on him. I feel
confident that my astute padawan can worm his secrets out of
him."
"I what?" Obi-Wan sputtered, laughing. He came back over to
his master. "All right, I'm a Diplomat, we're good at this sort
of thing, but why me?"
Maki' sighed deeply. "Didn't you notice? The boy has an almost
pathological fear of Jedi Masters."
"Man, Tevis is a man," Obi-Wan murmured.
"Yes, and Obi-Wan, you're not a Master. He does seem to
respond to you significantly better," Qui-Gon commented.
"All right," the padawan acquiesced. "Secret worming it is."
"If Obi-Wan can make him see that Jedi Masters are not the
ogres he believes them to be," Qui-Gon continued, "then perhaps
he'll warm up to us...you, Maki'."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "He's going to have to be around you,
both of you, more. Perhaps we could involve him in some of our
testing? Perhaps he could work on the new archive with us?"
"He's not trained as a Healer," Maki' said, then shrugged when
two Healer-Diplomats glared at him. "All right, he can learn.
The whole thing just seems so... daunting..."
In the next moment, the Jedi Oracine found himself embraced by
the Jedi Oraclyne. "Maki', he's a troubled young man, that's
all," Qui-Gon murmured close to his ear.
[And where is MY empathy?] Maki' wondered, then gently pushed
his way free, embarrassed. "Yes, yes, I'll meditate on it,
think about it. I promise."
"That's all we ask," Obi-Wan said, patting him on the arm.
"So, more tests or shall I start fixing nightmeal?"
"I really want to get at least a preliminary physical test
done," Maki' spoke before Qui-Gon did.
The elder Master nodded. "I'll start nightmeal, then. Maki',
why don't you get set up again? I'd like to speak to Obi-Wan
alone for a moment."
The Healer nodded with a short bow, and left the Oraclyne for
the common room.
5)
Qui-Gon drew his apprentice off to a corner of the kitchen,
out of view. Immediately Obi-Wan's hands went around his waist,
though the young man was calm and controlled, remembering their
decision to reserve intimacies for the night. **Master?** he
inquired lightly, smiling up at his tall teacher.
With a sigh and a smile, Qui-Gon circled him with his arms,
looking down into the beautiful young face with pleasure. **You
did well with Tevis, my little love...** He leaned in to press
his lips against the other's forehead.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, grateful to be allowed the closeness.
**Thank you, Master. It would be nice to make friends of other
padawans here, I admit. Tev is a bit volatile, but I think we
could get along real well.** He nuzzled his Oraclys's jaw.
**May I have a little kiss, please, Qui?**
He felt the older man's smile and the pleasure of the request
in their link. **Yes, I think that would be very nice." Tipping
his head up, Obi-Wan met the lips that descended to his.
Though mouths opened to each other, tongues entwining
lovingly, both held back from pouring more heat into their
bond. It was enough to kiss deeply and without urgency. After a
long moment, they separated, Obi-Wan to fit his face snugly
underneath his beloved's chin against his throat, and Qui-Gon
to thread fingers up into the short, brushy hair, fingertips
automatically finding the root of the braid.
**I think we might want to Force-shield our bedroom a little
better,** Qui-Gon sighed into their bond. **If Maki' is going
to be staying with us...**
**He wants to monitor us, though,** Obi-Wan replied, closing
his eyes as he let his senses soak up his lover's nearness.
**Just through the... transition.**
The long arms tightened around the treasure in the Master's
arms. **I know you are just as wary of that as I,** Qui-Gon
murmured back with a mental wave of assurance. **I hope it will
be soon.**
**So do I...** The thought of a sexual urge pushing either of
them over into a mindless frenzy was abhorrent to the Jedi...
though they could not be positive it would come to that in
their case. Their Force-sensitivity and Jedi internal
disciplines hopefully would have a positive effect on the
manifestation of their transition from Stage 1 to Stage 2.
Qui-Gon released him fully, smiling again. "And what would you
like for nightmeal, Padawan?"
"We just got in those fresh river grains," Obi-Wan replied,
fingertips still playing with his master's waist. "Make your
Chandrilese avagellish recipe, Master! We've got aiigg peppers
on hand; that should make an acceptable substitution for the
avagi peppers."
"Good suggestions, both, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon commented with
delight. He took the other's hands in his, raised them to his
lips, and planted a kiss on each set of knuckles, then released
him. "Now, you, our Healer is waiting."
Happy, Obi-Wan pressed in to kiss his master on the cheek,
then bounded off to the common room.
Maki' had the medreads realigned and set aside. "Your friend
Tevis designed these, Obi-Wan," he said by way of greeting.
Obi-Wan, who was stripping off his tunics, gaped at the
slender, elegant devices. "Those are medreads? Where are
the..."
"Doesn't need input attachments." Maki' gestured for the
padawan to lie on the sofa. "Here, I'll show you." He set each
medread in place in turn, applying Force delicately until the
soft click of activation was heard. "Actually, I'm just field
testing them. It's not something we'd use widely. Most Jedi
Artificer-designed devices, you know, are supposed to have dual
controls so that they can be used by non-Force adepts. Except
for weapons, of course, and our ships. That's a failsafe
against pirates." He sighed, placing the last one. "Anyway, we
would never use these widely. They can only be used on
Force-sensitives and by Force-sensitives. I think Tevis was
taking shortcuts."
"Amazing," Obi-Wan murmured, taking a deep breath to relax.
"I'll have to see if I can get Tev to talk about it." He closed
his eyes.
They fell into silence then, and Maki' concentrated on his
tests. Vital statistics, measurements, temperature readings,
and other parameters were all collected and recorded, sent
remotely by the medreads to the Healer's datapad. These would
be compared with their baseline readings from before their
imprinting, and with the readings taken after they returned the
first time from Belvin Three. A third set of data had been
taken aboard the transport bringing them to Dantooine. The four
sets should show dramatic change.
After an hour, Maki' was done and released Obi-Wan, who went
to join Qui-Gon and help in the last of the meal preparations.
Setting up the datapad on the table, Maki' brought up the
series of graphs created by the accumulated data. What he saw,
stunned him.
According to the Archive, the physical adjustments of Stage 1
Oraclyne Development would taper off for a couple days just
prior to the transition to Stage 2. According to the graphs,
the changes had already tapered. The transition would be in no
more than two days.
Sighing, Maki' closed the datapad down and went to tell the
Oraclyne.
Slamming the door to his tiny cottage behind him, Tevis pulled
off his belt and outer tunic and dropped them to the floor
before sinking to his knees. He held his hands out before him;
when he noticed they were still trembling, he yanked them down
to his sides, rubbing them against his hips. "Litany," he
mumbled, then shifted to a meditative position and closed his
eyes.
The words, long drummed into him, came automatically, spilling
from his lips like poison. "I am an Artificer, I obey the
Masters. I am nothing outside the confines and sweet embrace of
the Discipline and Cell I have taken for my own. I have no
gifts but for the Discipline, I have no talent but for the
Discipline, I have no knowledge but for the Discipline, I have
no wisdom but for the Discipline. I obey my Master in all
things. I am a speck of unworthy dust without my Master. I am
an Artificer, I obey the Masters..." When he was done he began
to repeat without a pause.
Master Xish had taught him that his first day as a Padawan.
Though Tevis had been shocked, he had memorized the litany
hastily. It had been with him ever since, a steady cadence at
odd moments in his mind. Though his teachers as a Trainee had
praised him, remarking on his intelligence and creative
innovations in his technical studies... all that had changed
once Master Mor-Daz Xish had whisked him off Coruscant and had
taken him to the Jedi Artificers' Temple on Corellia.
Immediately his new master had instructed him in how things
were going to be...
"I obey the Masters..." he finished a few minutes later. He
was calmer... again resigned. Remaining in a kneeling position
a moment longer, he thought about the two Masters he had just
met. The tall one, the so-called Healer-Diplomat... shook him
to the core for reasons he could not begin to state. Master
Jinn wore power like he wore his cloak. But there was something
else indefinable... something about what the man represented...
and Tev could not even decide if that something repelled or
attracted him. Something incongruous. This was a very powerful
Jedi Master... and strangely sensitive to the Living Force, at
least by appearances kind and wise...
[Can't be, isn't,] he told himself. [Masters are not KIND...]
He could still see the closed expressions of the Masters on the
Artificers' Board who released him from the Discipline and
arranged for transport to Dantooine. His assigned counselor,
Knight Erisde Miis, who also had been trained by Master Xish,
had seemed furious with him, physically shunning contact with
him as if he was some kind of contagious pest. There was...
something - he couldn't seem to remember - something Tev had
said to the Board that had enraged Miis. Then, under Miis's
recommendation, Tevis was hurried off-planet, gone from Xish -
though not the Masters - forever. He thought he should be
relieved, but all he felt was strange and unsettled.
Of course Masters Hyr and T'kennu in the Healers' Temple had
been polite though reserved. Tevis didn't know about his file,
though they commented with surprise on his Certification
papers. That had surprised Tevis, too, who didn't know who
would have signed his Certification because he rarely passed
any exams. "Passing", of course, was a perfect score.
The other Master Healer, Windsailor, seemed afraid of him,
which was laughable. Still, he, too, seemed to be kind, though
he was a Master. Odd, that.
But then everything on Dantooine seemed odd. For that matter,
there was Obi-Wan Kenobi. The other padawan had to be older
than he was, yet he treated Tev like an equal. [Wait, that's
not right - he just took his vows! He's only eighteen?] That
fact seemed dubious, for Kenobi certainly looked older. Anyway,
he seemed strangely reluctant to engage in what Tevis thought
were typical Jedi Senior Padawan male behaviors - compete,
challenge, denigrate, brag, and compete. Oh, and competing.
[Well, we'll see if the little bastard Dip can fight tomorrow,]
he thought to himself, getting up off the floor finally. [Too
bad he's cute... and taken.]
Tevis smiled. He might actually be better than someone else
for a change. That would be refreshing.
Skipping nightmeal, Tevis went outside to practice, intending
to work on his lightsaber techniques until he was exhausted. He
had to beat Kenobi!
Nightmeal passed quietly, the three Jedi enjoying the
avagellish and the accompanying salad. Maki' of course had told
him about his discoveries. Typically, Qui-Gon was peacefully
accepting, though worried, and Obi-Wan had just gone quiet,
knowing he had a lot to think about.
Another issue had them concerned. Because of the immanence of
the transition, Maki' had to do this monitoring of their sexual
activity tonight.
Not immediately after nightmeal. Qui-Gon wanted to
meditate and Obi-Wan wanted to spend some time working on the
archive. Still, it looked to be a very quiet evening.
====================================
In the case of the Jedi Oraclyne, the triggering of their
physical imprinting began when the Bajrheni suffered a
concussion which left him Force-blind. This condition required
a deeper healing than either Bajrheni or Zevdrani had had to
effect in the other during the course of their five-year
acquaintance. It happened that upon awakening, the Bajrheni
discovered the other in an unconscious state. It is believed by
the Oraclyne that when the Bajrheni drew the Zevdrani back to
consciousness, the energies going back and forth essentially
triggered the imprinting.
This way seems to be an entirely unique pattern of initiation,
for the two Oraclys already had an unusually deep mental
connection by virtue of their relationship as Jedi Master and
Jedi Padawan. The pair reports that their Master-Padawan bond
asserted itself before Master Jinn had accepted Trainee Kenobi
as his student. This is believed to have been a signal that the
bond would become unusually deep. We now believe their Oraclyne
matching to be the cause of this spontaneous bond.
====================================
Obi-Wan grinned to himself, stretching his fingers.
[Retrospection is a wonderful thing,] he thought ruefully. To
think that his foolish little side trip on Hagabel V and
slipping on a patch of grease could start a chain of events
like this! Then he sobered, remembering how it felt to be
Force-blind. [Not that I'm complaining. My dearest Master
healed me... and now this.]
Outside on the veranda, Qui-Gon was having similar thoughts.
[Obi-Wan has matured physically, but less so emotionally,] he
thought, concerned for the next few days they would face
together. [I am loathe to hurt him! And I know he feels the
same. Is there no way to avoid the severity of the transition?]
Needless to say, he was unable to properly meditate.
He remembered when they'd discovered the passage about the
Stages in the archive. Despite their dismay at the discovery,
the Stage 2 transition at the time seemed to be months off, and
they did not pursue studying this any further. Qui-Gon had made
love to his Oraclys in a particularly gentle manner that night,
slow and sweet, as if to deny the Oraclyne connection this
potential violence between them. He could still see how Obi-Wan
shivered with passion...
Chuckling, Qui-Gon bowed to the reality. No meditation this
evening. **Padawan,** he called to his lover, **I'm coming back
in. Too much to process. Could you please look up the passage
in the Zevdrani Archive about the transition? I want to read
that again.**
Obi-Wan returned agreement about the processing problem, and
queued up the chapter according to the detailed indexing notes
they'd made as they went through the archive the first time.
Maki' sheepishly joined them at the data terminal. "I'm
thinking about it, too," he admitted. "I want to call Zevdra in
the morning, see if we can get a more detailed description of
the transition."
Obi-Wan had the passage on the screen. Soberly the three read
together: "Once the physical adjustment to the imprinting and
age differences is complete, there will be a one-to-three day
holding period before the Oraclyne will transition into Stage
2. The transition, characterized by a particularly dramatic and
traumatic sexual encounter between Oraclys, will take a few
hours to complete and then Stage 2 will commence, the Ordering.
Then the Oraclyne will develop the controls necessary to
harness their new powers which will grow into fruition in Stage
3, the Rising."
"Dramatic," Maki' sighed. "What the Sithhell does that mean?"
"Vigorous we can do," Qui-Gon murmured and echoed the sigh.
"Dramatic, if necessary..."
"Actually, that sounds like fun," Obi-Wan couldn't help
smirking.
"But... traumatic? That sounds so..."
"Incongruous," Maki' offered.
"Unacceptable," Qui-Gon sighed yet again. "You will need to
make that call." Now would be good."
Zevdrani High Health Councilor Fli-Bas Vaal nodded serenely to
the image of Maki' on her vidscreen. "Healer Windsailor, I
assure you, the only available information on the transition is
in the archive."
Maki' nodded politely to the councilor, thinking that he was
very glad he was not a Diplomat; he simply did not have the
patience for this. He repeated, "Perhaps we could speak to the
Oraclyne on this matter, Councilor Vaal."
She shrugged. "To my understanding they do not remember the...
transition. But I will ask them."
While she was gone, Obi-Wan asked, "What does she mean, they
don't remember? How can that be!"
"Perhaps a mental block was put in their minds," Qui-Gon
offered, his arms around his worried lover from behind. "To
lessen the impact of the trauma?"
Obi-Wan leaned his head back against the taller man's
shoulder. "Now you're just scaring me, Qui."
A hand came up to filter into the short hair to hold him in
place. "These are not Force-sensitives, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon
murmured in reply. "Or Jedi. We have had extensive training in
mental control; perhaps they have not." He bent to place a kiss
upon his lover's forehead.
The High Health Councilor came back on the screen. "I'm going
to transfer you over to Be-Kiv now, Healer." Maki' nodded and
the screen changed.
"It's nice to see you again, Healer Windsailor," a blonde
woman early in her third decade spoke as she appeared on the
screen. "How may I help you?"
"And you, Oraclys Be-Kiv..." He was suddenly aware that his
own Oraclyne was leaning over his shoulder. Maki' hastily made
room for them in front of the vidscreen. "Ah, may I introduce
Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi..."
The woman's face lit up with delight. "We meet at last!" She
looked off-screen, and called out, "Lu, it's the Jedi!"
"It is good to meet you as well, Oraclys," Qui-Gon said a bit
formally, though he and Obi-Wan both were immediately
fascinated to meet another of their kind. "Yes, indeed!"
Obi-Wan chimed in with a smile. At the Healer's gesture, they
both sat down on the bench before the data terminal in order to
be visible in the vidscreen on the receiving end.
Another woman came in view, an older woman with darker, wavy
blonde hair. "I am Lu-Pai, but just call me Lu... and you can
call my beloved here Kiv." She smiled broadly. "So, what Stage
are you in, Master Jinn?"
"Call me Qui-Gon. And we're in Stage 1, though by our
estimates, that's due to change." For comfort, he slung an arm
around Obi-Wan's shoulders, just feeling a need for contact.
The two women looked at one another, then appeared to stifle a
laugh. "Oh, my," Lu-Pai said in response. "Let me guess, you're
worried about the transition."
"You could say that," Obi-Wan spoke up. "You can call me
Obi-Wan by the way. So, how bad is it?"
Kiv looked from one to the other. "I'm assuming you're
already..."
"Very," Obi-Wan interrupted with a smirk. "Although we're not
letting it take over our lives..."
"WHAT?" both women said together, surprised.
Qui-Gon quickly said, "How our function as an Oraclyne
integrates with our lives as Jedi remains to be seen, Lu, Kiv.
At the moment, we are far more interested in details about the
transition to Stage 2. The description in the archive is
sketchy and has us greatly concerned."
"The High Health Councilor," Obi-Wan added, "said that you do
not remember your transition?"
Lu-Pai chuckled. "I should say not. We were under the
influence..."
"Alcohol," Be-Kiv provided with a smirk. "Which we..."
"Never drink!" Lu laughed.
"We were scared..."
"Not that we hadn't..."
"On the contrary..."
"So," Obi-Wan broke in abruptly, "you do not remember what
happened because you were... drunk? Didn't that have any
adverse effect on the transition?"
"Apparently not," Lu replied dryly. "Sorry, we don't seem to
be much help."
"What condition were you in when you came out of the
transition?" Qui-Gon asked, not ready to give up yet.
Again the two Zevdrani Oraclys looked at one another. "Ah," Lu
ventured to explain, "that's difficult to say. We were in a
healing trance for the better part of a day, we were told, then
we woke up together... and were fine. We did have to, er,
replace some furniture in our bedroom."
"You may not want to have anything of particular value in the
room," Kiv added with a smirk.
"We felt different, though," Lu said with a sigh. "Our mental
focus had increased..."
"It was quite remarkable..."
"You'll love Stage 2..."
"We've never felt greater peace..."
"It was as if we'd arrived home after a long journey..."
"Did your sex life change any?" Obi-Wan broke in again.
Eyebrows were raised at the frank question, but Lu responded
warmly, "Every time we made love, it became another act of
healing. Even now, when needing to raise energies for some
mental healings, we prepare ourselves in this way. Before the
transition... our sexual activity was an expression of the love
we'd found together, no more. Now it is fully part of our
function as an Oraclyne."
"You will feel different," Kiv murmured, looking at her
lover beside her as she spoke to them. "Up to now your changes
have been largely physical. You have already developed the
close physical awareness of the other, but it will be
intensified as your mental awareness increases. A part of you
becomes part of the other. It's hard to explain..."
Lu took up the explanation. "Stage 2 is about control... and
just as the physical changes in Stage 1 are automatic, this
control will come by itself. Don't concentrate on the
transition, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan." She smiled, slipping her hand
into her lover's. "Look beyond it."
Qui-Gon drew Obi-Wan closer; the younger Jedi responded by
taking the free hand in both of his. "We shall do that, then,
Oraclyne. We're also expecting our experiences to be very
different from any Oraclyne before us. No Oraclyne has been
made up of Force-adepts. And we have our own Jedi mental
disciplines to assist us. I'm not expecting it to be easy, of
course, just... profound."
"Indeed, Master Jinn," Lu replied, "Profound it certainly will
be."
6)
An hour later they signed off with the Zevdrani Oraclyne after
more sharing and discussion of the particular Stages. Even so,
the Jedi Oraclyne continued to discuss after the transmission
ended. Maki' smiled and let them be, withdrawing to the kitchen
to re-organize his medkit. As he worked, his thoughts went back
to the encounter with Tevis Farolo.
[I should want to help him... so why am I so reluctant?] he
mused, fingering one of the medreads that Tevis had designed.
[I could help him... and I could even take him as Padawan,
though right now I doubt he'd be interested in any Master...]
Maki' had trained his first padawan, Nistil Jannvia, for
twelve years beginning nearly right after his Knighting. He and
Nistil had a good relationship, but Nistil was a H'kig, from a
group of religious pilgrims on the newly settled planet
J'T'P'Tan. As a Jedi Healer, Nistil was quiet, gentle, and far
more contemplative than most Healers, a studious though
humorless and impassioned boy. Serenity was no problem...
warming up to people often was.
Maki' had been kind and patient with his apprentice, but never
felt they made more than the cursory personal connection, the
minimum necessary between Master and Padawan. The quiet, shy
boy treated his master with near-awe, and had but a couple of
friends who later became Nistil's only circle of sexual
encounters. As a Knight, he was now attached to a medical
center on Alderaan and reports had been that he was doing well,
even to finally coming out of his shell a little. Maki' had not
seen him since his Knighting.
[I've been isolated myself,] Maki' thought ruefully. [Being
trained by a Neti probably helped that along...] As Master
T'kennu's padawan, Maki' had been passed from trainer to
trainer who worked with him on those things - the physical -
that the tree-like Neti could not. Several Knights and Masters
had even shepherded him on the required off-planet missions,
but he hadn't had much of a chance to get close to any of them.
[Ironic really... the Healers are supposed to be so community
minded, so like a family... I guess even a new Jedi Master can
get lost in the crowd...]
He chuckled at himself. [It's not that bad, Windsailor.
Who am I to complain?] He would not think about how long it had
been since he'd had a lover... not since very early in Nistil's
training, and nothing serious at that.
Maki' finished repacking the kit, then glanced into the common
room through the open doorway. The Jedi Oraclyne was sitting on
the floor, arms and legs tangled around one another, and they
were kissing slowly. Smiling, he entered the room and went to
sit on the data terminal bench beside which sat the lovers. As
he sat, their lips separated and Qui-Gon looked up at him.
"We were, ah, waiting for you, Oracine," the Master said, one
corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile. "Just a little
interlude."
Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder at the Healer, grinning. "Not
that we're calling it a night or anything, as delightful a
concept as that might be! I think we can get a bit more done on
the archive, ah..."
Qui-Gon finished for him, nuzzling his cheek. "While we're
still in Stage 1, that is. Which is apparently... tonight.
Speaking of which, Maki', will you still need to test us?"
Maki' sighed, but mostly from relief. "I really don't see why
now... your other tests were fairly conclusive. You will
be entering Stage 2 tomorrow. I think I'll run over to the
Temple first thing in the morning to retrieve that extra
shielding. You should have that anyway..."
The Healer trailed off when the younger Oraclys reached for
his hand. "Sorry you've been chained to us, Master Maki',"
Obi-Wan said quietly. "This is all very unfair to you
personally. To be so exposed to us... our intimacies."
Maki' squeezed the young man's hand and smiled wryly. "It's
not fair to you two either," he replied, nodding to Qui-Gon as
well. "You should have your privacy. Even tomorrow... I'm not
sure how close I need to be... or how far away I can get. After
talking to the Zevdrani, I do not think we really need to worry
about one or both of you getting badly hurt, considering the
strong survival instinct of your connection. Perhaps I can just
be on the grounds somewhere to do the buffering thing that I
supposedly do."
Qui-Gon, still leaning his head against his lover's, spoke up.
"No further than the veranda... I do not think we need to take
any chances with this." He reached a hand up as well, laying it
on the Healer's knee. "Were you not a Healer, dear Maki', I
think we would have no trouble taking you into our bed with
us..."
"Yes..." Obi-Wan breathed, bringing the hand in his to lie
against his cheek.
Maki' froze, his heart pounding suddenly. The weeks he'd spent
trying not to think of them that way... "You... you cannot bond
with anyone else, you should not desire anyone else..."
"This is not desire, not like that." Qui-Gon's eyes were pools
of indigo light, warm and loving... and without heat. "I crave
and deeply love my Obi-Wan, yes..." He paused to kiss his
lover's temple. "But we feel affection for you, our Oracine and
friend."
Obi-Wan's eyes fell closed as he soaked up the love radiating
from his beloved and sent back his own love, as well as the
affection he also felt for Maki'. "Physical attraction is not
required if one merely wants to show another how they are
loved," he murmured.
Maki' took the hand on his knee in his; the touch was setting
off dangerous sparks of electricity in his groin, though he
kept the hand in his for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he
gave each hand he held a squeeze, then released them both,
standing up. "I would not anyway," he said, breathing deeply as
he subtly edged away, ignoring how they were staring at him.
"You're in Stage 1 still, I am your Healer and your
friend... I do not know if what is going on is a function of
your nearness to the transition or my being Oracine, but no
matter what, I cannot do this. I will remain nearby, no more.
Perhaps one day... after you have settled finally into Stage
4... we can..." He paused and turned away, leaving the room.
They let him go, though together returned a thought to him,
**One day... you will come to us for what is rightfully yours
as Oracine...**
Qui-Gon pulled his young lover back around for another kiss,
pulling him closer against his body as he plundered the
sweetness of Obi-Wan's mouth. After a moment, he sent, **Should
I not have done that?**
**Always kiss me whenever you get a chance,** Obi-Wan sent
back immediately, senses swimming again, his hands full of
long, dark brown hair as he kissed his lover back avidly.
**No,** Qui-Gon replied with a mental chuckle. **I mean I
virtually invited Maki' to have sex with us.** He shifted the
younger man in his arms so that Obi-Wan's legs were wrapped
around his waist, holding him as close as he could.
**Oh, that,** Obi-Wan commented, smiling into his mouth. **My
master has made better decisions. Although I think that one
will turn out to be a good one.** He pulled off Qui-Gon's mouth
slowly, then met his gaze with a languid, sensual smile, his
eyes hooded.
Qui-Gon laughed softly at the sight. "Well, I cannot
resist you, looking at me like that! And how do you think it
will turn out to be a good one?" He played with the padawan
braid, winding it around his fingers.
Obi-Wan shivered at the slight pressure to the side of his
head where the root of the braid grew. "Oh, Master... um, I
think this lets him know that we do care for him and love him.
Considering all he has to put up with from us... and hopefully
one Tevis Farolo in the future... I think Maki' could stand to
know that." He pulled on the long fall of hair gently until
Qui-Gon tilted his head back, then bent to kiss his throat as
they separated a little.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon uttered breathlessly, "oh, that's... so
you're thinking Maki' will take Tevis as his Padawan?"
Running a tongue along the length of Qui-Gon's windpipe,
Obi-Wan returned to telepathy to respond. **More than Padawan.
I foresee it.**
Breathing deeply, Qui-Gon closed his eyes, focusing on the
sensation of his Oraclys tasting his skin. **Foresee... Maki'
and Tevis, together? Really?**
The younger man ran a hand under the dark blue tabard and
cream tunics until he found a nipple which he brushed over
lightly, his tongue still tasting, now along the clavicle.
**Not for a long while. Tevis... has a long road of healing
ahead of him. I hope we can be a part of that, Qui.**
**You did not foresee that, Padawan,** Qui-Gon teased, one
hand reaching down to cup one cheek of Obi-Wan's buttocks,
getting an immediate arching of his lover's body against him.
He followed with another, and picked him up, getting him closer
to him. **You just want it to happen.**
**If I wish hard enough,** Obi-Wan returned, hand slipping out
of the other's clothes so he could clasp his shoulders,
pressing his groin against his lover's belly as he was lifted,
**It could happen! I think they would be good for each other.
Maki' has been very lonely, I think. And I think Tevis deep
down is desperate to give love to someone. Qui-Gon?** He felt a
wave of desire wash through him, making him shudder.
"Yes, love?" the Master asked aloud, taking his turn in
tasting his lover's throat as Obi-Wan arched backwards.
"We're not going to work on the archive tonight, are we?"
Obi-Wan gasped, feeling his penis harden from the erotic
sensations fluttering through his skin.
[Damn... the archive...] Qui-Gon took a deep breath, stilling
against his lover's neck, his eyes closed. **The section on
Stage 1 must be completed before we transition.**
**No,** Obi-Wan breathed back into his mind, writhing against
him. **I want you, Qui-Gon, please... I'm aching here...
besides, this is not the right frame of mind for scholarly
writing...**
**On the contrary, this might be just what is needed.**
Despite the heavy reluctance in his body and mind to leave the
sweet physical presence of his young lover, Qui-Gon
straightened, releasing him. "And we'll be properly motivated
to complete what we need to efficiently," he added, giving his
disgruntled Oraclys a little smirk.
"Don't do this to me..." Obi-Wan moaned as he laid back on the
floor and watched his maddening Oraclys and Master gracefully
rise to his feet. "Qui? Can't you just take care of me first?"
"Insatiable..." There was a soft chuckle heard as the Master
glided back over to the data terminal. Within, Qui-Gon was
sending himself back to his usual serenity, turning his
attention from the fire in his own groin.
"Cruel and insensitive..."
"Hmmm, that was low... undisciplined padawan."
"Heartless tease." Obi-Wan shot back, unrepentant. "Please
take care of me first?"
"You'll live," Qui-Gon responded dryly, bringing up on the
screen the text Obi-Wan had started. "Actually, why don't you
get cleaned up and settled in the bedroom? I'd just like to get
this caught up to date before I ravish you."
Obi-Wan was caught between remorse for not attending to the
task that had been given him and the desire that roiled
through his body to lose himself in pleasure with his lover. He
left off palming his hard erection, linking his hands behind
his neck, legs splayed open. "Of course, I should be doing
that..."
"I didn't say that," Qui-Gon murmured quietly. He was
hyperaware of Obi-Wan's presence, knowing exactly how the young
man had laid himself out on the floor, but would not turn to
feast his eyes on the sight. "The accuracy of this account
depends on our recollections from within each Stage."
"Right." Obi-Wan curled up off the floor and straightened his
clothes, closing his eyes for a moment to center himself.
"You do not have to..."
"I do." [Here we go,] Obi-Wan thought with a mental sigh.
[Jedi first, Senior Padawan Healer-Diplomat second... and being
one half of the Jedi Oraclyne has to fit into that, not the
other way around, no matter how I burn for him...] It was too
tempting to toss away his new-found maturity in lieu of
abandonment to sexual pleasure.
**I burn no less,** the Master sent, **and you're
broadcasting, Padawan.**
Shocked, Obi-Wan froze. **Am not...**
**Actively, no. The bond... see for yourself.**
Their Master-Padawan bond, which since their imprinting had
expanded dramatically, deepening their mental connection,
shimmered brightly with the Oraclyne pull toward union... the
most consistent mark of Stage 1. It meant that without careful
diligence, they were more likely than not to be completely open
to each other mentally. Their substantial shielding had to be
maintained with a higher degree of awareness than previously.
Both also sensed the other - their Oracine - and the bubble
Maki' provided of emotional safety from the outside. The Healer
was walking outdoors, having utilized his own internal
discipline to find his center and Jedi serenity again.
"I apologize, Master," Obi-Wan said as he joined him in front
of the terminal. He'd found his calm center, the Jedi
self-discipline that he'd been trained in his entire life.
Firming up his shields, he'd willed his body to obey. "No
matter how enticing the prospect of being ravished by you, I
know my duty."
Qui-Gon made room for his lover in front of the terminal. "My
Padawan..." His voice was quiet, reverent, knowing what a trial
this constant restraint - as it must seem - was to the young
man. "Complete this section and then..."
"Ravishing, I hope," Obi-Wan retorted gently, scrolling to
where he'd left off earlier.
"Then, my Oraclys," Qui-Gon purred into his ear and mind, "I
will lose myself in the fire with you. I promise." He kissed
his lover's shoulder, then rose from the bench, departing to
their bedroom.
**Hold you to that promise...**
**You may.**
**I will get vehement the next time.**
**On my person, I hope. Can I tell you how proud of you I
am?**
**Yes.** Obi-Wan sent a minute wave of petulance then settled
in to attend to his task.
**Very proud. The fire, soon, my Obi-Wan.** The Master's
attention firmly receded finally, shields set in place despite
the fact that he could not help but be aware of his beloved at
any given moment.
=================================
The actual physical imprinting itself, that is, the point of
no return where the life energies of the two Oraclys were
irreversibly bound together, occurred through the mechanism of
physical penetration as is typical, in this case, a rather deep
kiss.
=================================
**Not really any other way to describe that, is there?**
Qui-Gon smirked from the other room.
**Are you being nosy or just having that much trouble with
your shields?**
**I have an interest in this, too. I can eavesdrop from here
and it would be best if we were physically separated right
now.**
**Talented, aren't you?**
**Jedi Master. You're welcome. By the way, a rather deep kiss
is just about on the top of my list of methods of ravishment
planned for later.**
Obi-Wan laughed out loud. **Qui, you're a horrible, terrible
tease. Do you want me to do this or not?**
**Privilege of age.**
**I do Not think so!**
**Continue, please, Padawan.**
7)
Obi-Wan snorted and returned to his text, forcibly ignoring
the fact that his lover had gone into the 'fresher for a
shower.
====================================
Up to now, the effects of the imprinting process upon the two
Oraclys were that physical separation caused both to feel
differently, most notably the sensation of being cold. After
the sealing of the imprinting, this changed dramatically.
Instead of feeling cold, the Oraclys each felt a heightening of
sexual urges for the other. It is believed that this "draw
toward union" is a function of the growing Oraclyne connection
between the two individuals.
====================================
**Not the easiest subject to write about right now,** Obi-Wan
sighed to the other, feeling the twinges in his groin again.
**But very motivating, you must admit.**
**I'm motivated. What shall I say about the mess we got into?
And what about the spirit land? The archives said that
experiences of other realities manifest only after reaching
Stage 3.**
**We're a prodigal Oraclyne?**
**You're a big help. Just remember that without the spirit
land...**
Both went suddenly still. That they would both now be dead
most likely was just the worst of the consequences they could
have suffered after what had happened on Belvin Three if it had
not been for the other plane of consciousness they'd reached -
the "spirit land" as Master Healer Galiddys Hyr called it. As
it was supposed to be a frequent and useful tool of any
Oraclyne, they knew they would return to it one day. There was
something to be said, they'd guessed, for being
Force-sensitive. It was the only explanation for the early
manifestation of the spirit land.
Qui-Gon recovered first. **We are in the cradle of the Force,
my Obi-Wan. And I cannot complain, for I am here with you.**
**And I with you,** Obi-Wan returned soberly. **I love you,
Qui.**
**I love you as well, my Obi.**
===================================
The remainder of Stage 1 constitutes the rest of the physical
changes both Oraclys will endure, the most obvious of which is
the age regression or progression to narrow the apparent age
differences between each Oraclys. In the case of the Jedi
Oraclyne, the Bajrheni Oraclys, who is presently at eighteen
Standard years of age, has experienced an age progression of
about seven years. Master Healer Makol' Windsailor has
determined that this Oraclys has changed in skeletal structure,
musculature, physiology, and other significant characteristics
to match what would be expected of him at age twenty-five
Standard. These changes, which include the addition of a final
two inches of height, have taken place in less than one month
without the expected physical stresses of such a radical
change.
**I like you taller.** The Jedi Master was drying off in the
hot air jets in the 'fresher unit.
**How do you know what I am typing?!** Obi-Wan stopped
suddenly in surprise.
**Extreme physical awareness. I can follow the movements of
your fingers when I pay attention.**
Shock. **Really? You are talented.** Then a mental
smirk. **Too bad our height differences weren't better evened
out like our ages were.**
**What? You grew two inches and we lost fourteen years between
us. You wanted me to shrink?**
**Yes.** Obi-Wan laughed aloud.
**You've had five years to get used to that. And I
thought...**
**That was my turn to tease. I love that you're so... large.**
More laughter.
**Is that so?**
**Oh, yes. Exceedingly.** Obi-Wan paused to re-read what he'd
written. **Can I stop now to brush out your hair?**
Pause. **I will save it for you. Do continue.**
Sighing, Obi-Wan returned his attention to the archive.
===================================
The Zevdrani Oraclys, on the other hand, experienced an age
regression of about seven years, effectively returning to age
40 Standard physically. The outward signs of this are smoother
skin and darkening of hair to a deeper brown with no gray in it
any longer.
**If I'd known you when you were, say, 30 Standard, I'd
probably have thrown myself at you.**
**That's a nice thing to say, Padawan. Although I really do
not mind being forty again at all. I feel strong and agile.**
Qui-Gon, puttering around the bedroom, stopped to flex his
muscles, taking a rare moment of satisfaction in his own body.
**Ohhhh, don't do that...**
**Don't look.**
**Like I have a choice...**
**All right, then, I'll save it for later. That, um, really
does it for you?**
**I'm sitting here wondering why I'm in this room and you're
in that one.** He palmed his groin uncomfortably, then thrust
the image away.
===================================
Master Healer Windsailor has determined that the physical
changes have reached a permanent plateau, which means,
according to the Zevdrani archive, that the transition to Stage
2 will commence in less than two days. As this plateau has been
reached, it seems to the Oraclyne that their physical awareness
of one another has peaked to the point where each has
difficulty not paying attention to...
==================================
**Speak for yourself, Padawan.**
**You can't stop watching me, beloved Master. You're in a
different part of the house and your attention is riveted...**
**I'm doing that because I want to, not because I cannot.**
A veil seemed to come down over their bond. Obi-Wan looked
toward the bedroom in wonder. Qui-Gon did not disappear from
his awareness, but his perception of him, even when he
concentrated, seemed dimmed, blunted. **How did you do that?**
**I refuse to let the Oraclyne connection rule our every
thought and action,** came the response a bit vociferously.
**We are NOT its slaves!**
Obi-Wan was taken aback, shocked at the emotion in his
master's voice. [This is like what he thought when he was...
when he was psychotic, only he's clearly sane now. The fear of
the Oraclyne changing us too much.] **Yes, Master,** he replied
thoughtfully.
Qui-Gon had already calmed, again relying on his many years of
mental discipline.
=================================
...it seems apparent that greater mental discipline is needed
to manage the extreme physical awareness that the Oraclys have
of each other. The mental skills of the Jedi are adequate to
this task. The Jedi Oraclyne is united their belief that the
new bond they share is to be integrated into their existing
life as Jedi and not the other way around. The gift of the
Oraclyne shall be made to serve the Light no less as Jedi
Healers as any other Oraclynic team on Zevdra or Bajrhen.
================================
**Oraclynic?**
**I needed an adjective. No reason why we cannot add to the
terminology surrounding our peculiar new... attachment.**
**I think it's time I added some of my thoughts to this. Type
for me?**
**Er...**
================================
Note on the Final Aspect of Stage 1
by Master Qui-Gon Jinn, Zevdrani Jedi Oraclys
Without effort I track him, see him without my eyes, my mind
automatically knowing every breath, every heartbeat, every
movement of every muscle. I have known, without conscious
thought, that it was possible to fall into a fugue of sensing
my Oraclys, of becoming completely absorbed in watching him.
Now, as we feel the Transition near, it seems as if the
difficulty is increasing... still, I will not unwillingly give
in to it. I am Jedi, and so is he. Our minds are strong,
trained, and we are lovers of the Light in an active way that I
would not assume the other Oraclys share. We breathe the Force,
and that sense, our strongest, sets us apart from others while
binding us together. Moreover, we are both strong in the Force,
and may wield its power, which is another reason we will not
simply or blithely yield to the Oraclyne.
Oh, we will yield. We will welcome its powerful, magnetic pull
to unite our bodies and minds and souls. But as we choose... as
we may... as might be assured for the greater good and in the
cause of the Light. We, my Obi-Wan and I...
================================
**I do not presume to speak for you as well, Beloved.**
Obi-Wan was still so stunned by what he'd been asked to
transcribe, that he could not reply except to say, **Your words
are mine.**
===============================
We, my Obi-Wan and I, would be full partners with the Oraclyne
connection we share, and not its minions or tools. It will use
us as we permit; we will use it as it permits. That we are
Jedi... makes all the difference. There has never been an
Oraclyne like us in ten thousand years... there may never be
one again. We serve the Light and the will of the Force... as
Oraclyne.
===============================
**Master...** The thought was sent to accompany a wave of
emotion: respect, awe, pride, love. **You have a gift. If we
may truly combine that gift with our new gifts of Healing in
the service of the Chancellor, then we would be a formidable
presence indeed.**
**Intent is not to be formidable. And you have gifts as
well.**
**Not like this. Words conveying beauty...**
**Nonsense, my Diplomat. Time and experience will uncover your
gift as well. I have not a doubt.**
**Master...** Happiness.
===============================
Meanwhile we stand on the cusp of the Transition. Already our
self-discipline is employed to keep the awareness of each other
as it should be. We will know when it is time to yield. The
uncertainties of the Transition are daunting and we will face
them as no less than Jedi.
===============================
The hands stilled. Obi-Wan felt as if he were coming out of a
deep meditative trance.
**My Obi-Wan... come to me.**
Obediently and utterly at peace, the Jedi Senior Padawan rose
from the data terminal to join his beloved Master.
Maki' paced along the path leading from the Oraclyne's cottage
back to the main building of the retreat center, never nearing
more than 20 meters from the house. As the building was less
than a mile from the cottage, the distance seemed to match the
range he needed. [Too close and they draw me right in,] he
thought, sighing. [I know Qui-Gon doesn't realize what he asked
of me... and I was foolish to think I could perform any sort of
test on them when they're intimately involved. What was
I thinking?]
He was battling his own guilt for not visiting the Oraclyne at
the retreat center sooner. But though for the sake of Healer
science he could have done more testing, the truth was that
they really had not needed him to be there. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan
had been absorbed in their daily rituals and mostly absorbed in
each other, so much so that the dramatic physical changes had
been taken for granted. The Healer had not had any idea the
changes would be so rapid... and they had not seen a need to
tell him. Maki' had felt as if he'd been away a year.
At the retreat center, his Oracine "buffering" function was
not needed as the cottages were very spread out and there were
few people anyway in this area. Now, however, with the
transition to Stage 2 so immanent, he was needed as both Healer
and Oracine. And therein lay the problem. Qui-Gon's
inappropriate suggestion to him demonstrated that problem all
too clearly. [I'll get another Healer here in the morning to be
on hand,] Maki' decided, relaxing. [It's going to be enough for
me to buffer them through the transition.]
Which brought him to another knotty problem he'd been worrying
over. [It's truly not a mental bond,] Maki' mused, frowning.
[Qui-Gon and I are developed enough telepaths that we can think
at one another without a bond, but Obi-Wan is not and cannot
transmit to me. No, this thing we have seems to be
purely emotional, operating on a more primal level below
thought and higher mental functions. We need another observer,
a strong telepath who can look at this from the outside to
determine what is going on. I cannot tell if I'm in the middle
of it!]
Maki' stopped his pacing and held still, his hands folded in
his robe sleeves. Through his telepathic powers and sensing of
the Force, he could turn unerringly in the direction of the
Oraclyne and discern... no, they were not sexually engaged, not
yet, though there was a minute shimmer of tension between them.
Arguing? No, there was no anger to be felt. There was an
undercurrent of humor and exasperation... something was keeping
them from the bedroom. [I truly do NOT want to know,] Maki'
thought, smiling at last. [So, I can sense their emotions...
great. An empathic bond, then... is there such a thing? More
research...]
A light caught his peripheral vision. Turning, Maki' peered
into the darkening woods toward what was probably the next
cottage over, several hundred meters away. The yellowish light
appeared to be flashing randomly... and what was that very
faint buzzing sound? A... lightsaber?
Instinctively Maki' moved toward it, then realized that must
be from Tevis's cottage. [He's working out outside,] he
thought, [in the dark? He must have a lot of pent-up energy,
too. Should I go talk to him?]
Again the Healer felt the twinge of anxiety. He was inadequate
to that task! [Maybe if the Oraclyne can heal Tevis of
his problems... whatever those are... then I could possibly
take him on as Padawan...] Frowning, he mentally kicked
himself. [Some Master you are. What would T'kennu say
right now?] He had to chuckle. [The old tree would say, 'He's
just a boy, Maki', nothing dangerous, nothing fragile.'] In the
ancient Neti's way of thinking, nearly everything was "nothing
dangerous, nothing fragile".
Maki' checked his own feelings, closing his eyes. The
Oraclyne... the shimmer of sexual tension between Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan had increased, but if he moved farther away, he would
be unaffected. And he would buffer them from Tevis and vice
versa. [I'm still wary of Tevis... and I need to get past that.
So...]
He stepped off the path and into the woods to cut across
toward the other cottage.
8)
Obi-Wan slowly removed his belt and sash, draping them on a
rod in the large closet, then slid the dark blue tabard pieces
off his shoulder and hung them up as well. Unlike the more
efficient space arrangements in their quarters on Coruscant,
this walk-in closet was in the hallway before reaching the
largest bedroom itself so he had not as yet seen his master.
But he knew that the tall Jedi Master lay draped across their
bed, waiting for him. This new ability, to see his beloved
without vision, had the interesting effect of priming him for
the evening's sexual encounter before he'd even entered the
room.
Tunics followed, hung up neatly, then Obi-Wan was easing off
his leggings; the boots had been left back in the other room.
The thin breeches he left on, knowing that the shape that
tented the flimsy fabric out would be all the more enticing
that way.
Before moving into the bedroom, Obi-Wan turned and caught
sight of himself in a full-length mirror behind him. He smiled
as he ran a hand casually over his broad chest and down to the
trim waist and flat belly.
**And you are waiting for...?**
**Oh...** Obi-Wan grinned at his reflection. **Just admiring
the view.**
A mental growl was sent. **Vain, too? Not like you, Padawan.**
**Not at all,** Obi-Wan said honestly. **I'm relieved to have
a more adult body now so that...** He paused, feeling silly.
**So that what?**
[I might as well admit it.] **So that you won't have so much
cause to think I'm too young for you.**
Stunned, Qui-Gon let the bond fall silent. After a long
moment, he asked, **You worry about that still?**
Obi-Wan straightened, pulling his shoulders back. **You would
have waited until my Knighting... some seven years away... to
be with me. I know that. It's all right, I understand that.**
But he made no further move toward the bedroom.
**We have been lovers for nearly a month, my Obi. I no longer
think about age in regards to either of us, which is as it
should be. You have long ago proven your maturity to me, love.
That has allayed any concerns I once had long before your
shoulders broadened.**
**Oh...**
**Now, come to me. I ache no less than you... or has your
ardor waned?**
Obi-Wan felt a surge of arousal pulse strongly through him -
his own, not his lover's leaking through the bond, though he
felt it there waiting to be set free. His hand drifted lower.
**I will show you how ardent I am...**
**Good, and if you need any help, I have a rather enticing
view waiting for you in here.** To punctuate his words, the
Master added a Force-tug on the padawan braid, turning him
toward the entrance to their bedroom.
"Hey!" Obi-Wan tugged his braid back. "I can walk..." He
stepped into the room and leaned back against the door jamb,
then glanced toward the bed.
What he saw made his already firming member harden painfully.
His lover, his Oraclys... Qui-Gon... was laying on his side,
leaning on an elbow, one leg bent up, the other arm draped
against a well-muscled thigh, the dark brown hair spilling over
his shoulders down to just past the middle of his chest. His
erection was full and massive, a pearlescent drop already
visible at the tip.
Dry-mouthed, Obi-Wan looked up to his lover's face. The
Master's lips were parted, glistening as if he'd just licked
them. And his eyes... Obi-Wan felt weak suddenly, beholding the
hot, molten gaze that bored into him.
Qui-Gon did not move, did not change expression, resting in
the moment as he took in the view that he was presented. His
padawan, so much a man now, posing against the door with his
characteristic air about him, a delicious combination of
innocence and seductive ease. Slowly he smiled, then extended
his hand to the lithe, young man. "Join me..."
Obi-Wan returned the smile and began to cross the room... only
he diverted toward the refresher unit. "After I take a shower,
sure..."
He never made it there. Abruptly he was flying through the
air, his back hitting the bed with a decided WHUMPH. Then there
was this huge Jedi Master landing on his belly, straddling him,
glaring at him like some feral beast. Obi-Wan stared up at him,
catching his breath, eyes wide. For a split second he thought
he saw the madness return... either that or perhaps they were
starting the transition already?
Then the "beast" smiled indolently. "That was the third time
I'd asked you to join me. I'm going to kiss you breathless,
then I'll give you something you've asked for."
"What?" Obi-Wan asked, still taken aback by the sudden
aggression, but no answer was forthcoming, at least not aloud,
as Qui-Gon lifted his hips to slide back down against his
erection, then bent to kiss him, the luscious fall of dark hair
tenting their faces.
The kiss however, allayed all his fears, for the first touch
of Qui-Gon's lips was tender and sweet, a light brushing before
settling in to kiss his young lover slowly and lightly.
Immediately the tension went out of Obi-Wan, who responded by
reaching up and filling his hands with the long, rich, brown
hair.
**You dally coming to my arms and you wonder why I throw you
onto the bed?** Qui-Gon chuckled in his mind just as he
deepened the kiss. To further impress upon his beloved how
wanted he was, the elder Jedi began to slowly thrust up against
the other's erection.
**Ah... oh!** Obi-Wan was speechless even mentally, the thrust
sending him into pure sensing, his mind distracted by his
lover's potent movements against his body and in his mouth. He
felt his torso lifted a bit by Force so that Qui-Gon could slip
his arms around his back, melding their bodies together.
**What was that you were thinking about me when you came in?**
**Mmm?** Obi-Wan could not think much less remember anything.
Qui-Gon ended the kiss by keeping Obi-Wan's lower lip and
suckling on it a moment before releasing it. He straightened,
releasing him enough to lean on his hands again. He smiled
again, looking at the decimated padawan beneath him. Obi-Wan's
eyes were heavy-lidded, his mouth still open, a slight frown
creasing his brow because he was no longer being kissed. "Do
you have any idea what you look like?" Qui-Gon sighed, his deep
voice a purr that made Obi-Wan shiver.
"N...no. You..." The thought processes of the younger man were
coming back together. "I was thinking you looked like... a
primal deity... an elemental force... a... a god..." His fists
tightened a bit on the hair, for he wanted to be kissed again.
"We do not believe in such entities, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said
quietly, gazing at him with love.
"I do," Obi-Wan breathed, slipping one hand around his lover's
neck, then pulled him down for another kiss.
Qui-Gon relaxed against Obi-Wan, kissing him thoroughly and
deeply as promised, kissing until they were both breathless.
When his lips dragged off from Obi-Wan's, they kissed a trail
down to his neck where the Master began to lick and suck
lightly at his skin there.
"Ohhh..." Obi-Wan moaned, then gulped to catch his breath.
**What were you going to give me?**
**Hairbrush. Later,** Qui-Gon returned, far too interested in
tasting Obi-Wan's neck to worry about his hair.
"I...I can do it now," Obi-Wan gasped. His senses were full of
Qui-Gon, feeling the pressure of the larger man's weight on his
belly and chest, the hardened erection pressing against his,
Qui-Gon's scent in his nostrils and mouth on his throat, and
his hair spilled over him... Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing a length
of the dark brown hair over his nipples and side.
**I don't think I can wait,** Qui-Gon sent into his mind with
an accompanying shiver of desire that licked along both their
spines... the fire building. His lips had captured a fold of
skin at the side of Obi-Wan's neck, and he was worrying the
blood to the surface, sucking to mark him.
"Qui..." Obi-Wan trembled with arousal, twisting his hips a
little under the wonderful weight holding him down. "Oh. If...
can... oh... oh..." He was growing incoherent again, feeling
the building heat within him from the pressure against his
erection, the sucking at his throat, the slide of silky hair
against his nipples. Then, when teeth closed on the skin at the
side of his neck, the bright pulse of quick pain sent him over
the edge. "Oh... QUI!"
Qui-Gon, releasing his neck, held his young lover tighter as
the orgasm rushed through him, sending murmurs of love and
affection into Obi-Wan's mind, caressing their bond from within
as his beloved rode the crest and subsided finally, going limp
under his weight. Then the Master took his mouth again, kissing
him slowly until the spark of fire flared again in their bond.
When the weight lifted from him finally, Obi-Wan wasted no
time skimming off his leggings, letting them fly off toward the
floor beyond the bed. "Want more of you, all of you," he
breathed, his arms going around his lover's neck as he surged
up to capture his mouth yet again.
**Anything specific?** Qui-Gon teased him as they tangled
tongues in a heated kiss. His own erection, as yet unattended,
pushed needily at the other man's upper thigh, his knee getting
between Obi-Wan's legs.
Obi-Wan reached down and captured the weeping erection.
**This,** he fired at the other, pulling free from his mouth at
last. Their eyes met; Obi-Wan fixed a needy glare on him that
made the older man shiver. "Impale me," the younger man ordered
in a voice deeper than Qui-Gon had ever heard from him.
"Yesss," Qui-Gon hissed back, abruptly tugging on Obi-Wan's
hips to tip him on his back again. When the lithe, muscled legs
pulled back as Obi-Wan drew his knees up to his chest, Qui-Gon
knelt between them and slipped his hands under to cup his
buttocks. He kneaded the firm mounds, then pressed a knuckle
against the opening, urging with touch and mind for his lover
to relax for him.
"Yesss," Obi-Wan echoed with a sigh as he worked to meet the
request, feeling himself yield, willing his body to open for
his beloved. His eyes fell closed for a moment as he centered
in Qui-Gon's touch upon him, and when something cool was laved
over his entrance, he sighed yet again, yielding all the more.
Then Qui-Gon was pressing the head of his penis into him with
excessive care and slowness... and Obi-Wan was ready, taking
his lover into his body. **Oraclys...** he breathed into their
bond, and it was not a name for what Qui-Gon was, or a title of
a member of a bonded pair of Healers, but it was the word he
called the only one with whom he shared the intimacies of his
body, mind, and spirit. Their bond vibrated in their joining,
in the satisfaction of their urge to unite like this, their
sexual imprinting, each reclaiming the other.
When he was fully seated inside his lover, Qui-Gon let loose a
long, hungry moan that made the blood in Obi-Wan's veins run
hotter. Then, their gazes locked together, he lowered himself
over the younger man and began to move.
By the time Maki' reached the next cottage, the shimmering
sexual tension he was subject to from the Oraclyne had abated
enough that he was only mildly uncomfortable, the distance a
cushion to his senses. Yet he knew that he was close enough to
still function as the Oracine buffer... if the hardened shields
of the Oraclyne were to become compromised by the approaching
transition.
He'd found the cottage easily, both by the flashing light and
the other Jedi's Force signature, which was off just enough to
be extraordinarily distinctive. Maki' approached slowly,
knowing the other - unless he was too distracted - would pick
up his arrival in the Force as well.
Sure enough, the flashing lightsaber was held still, though
not deactivated. Maki' continued to walk closer at a leisurely
pace, circling around the house to the back where the Artificer
was practicing. "Tevis?" he called out lightly. "It's Master
Maki'."
There was a minute wrinkle in the Force; the padawan's
reaction. "What... what do you want, Master?" the young man
called back hesitantly. He held the amber blade before him
still, not in a threatening posture, but rather more
defensively.
Maki' neared, smiling. "Difficult to spar without a partner,
Padawan Tevis," he commented. "Or else that was a jemna I'm
unfamiliar with... which isn't too unusual."
Tevis was dressed in loose, black practice clothes, which made
his face look a pale, whitish-yellow in the glare of the
lightsaber blade. He looked, as usual, nervous. "It was the
Starkoldi jemna, Master." He dipped his head in a rudimentary
bow and Maki' wondered whether the young man was fighting the
impulse to drop to his knees again.
"Really, I've never heard of that one... but that's not so
unusual," Maki' commented, glancing down with interest at the
padawan's lightsaber. "Healers do not learn the jemnas that are
more geared toward combat training as Diplomats do. Hmmm, two
crystals or three?" He nodded toward the 'saber hilt.
"It's an Artificer jemna," Tevis retorted a little fiercely,
then stared blankly at the Healer until he realized the man was
interested in his lightsaber. "Oh... it's my own design...
three crystals and..." He broke off as if changing his mind. "I
wouldn't let them take it away from me," he added suddenly.
"Don't know why they would," Maki' said softly. The 'saber
hilt was unusual, not straight like most, but subtly curved.
The Master Healer did not know much about lightsaber theory,
but he guessed that the design was geared to intensify the
power of the laser.
Tevis lowered the blade, then deactivated it. "They do not
like what I make," he murmured so quietly the other barely
heard it. He averted his eyes, glancing off into the dark.
"They...?"
"The Masters."
Maki' narrowed his eyes. "But they Certified you as a full
Artificer. That's an amazing accomplishment for someone your
age, Padawan."
Tevis shrugged one shoulder as if he had something to flip off
his back.
"There's so much you can do..." Maki' started to say, but the
padawan looked at him abruptly.
"Can I help you with something... Master?" The title was all
but sneered, yet the young man's face was carefully impassive.
Suddenly Maki' thought of the suggestion that Qui-Gon had made
earlier. "Yes... actually, Tevis, you can help me with
something. There's a rather large task that perhaps someone
with your skill can manage. We have recently come into
possession of an archive that is in a format that is completely
unsearchable, and the thing is so huge that..."
"That's not true," Tevis snapped a little harshly.
Maki' peered at him curiously. "What's not true?"
"It can be reformatted in a searchable format," Tevis murmured
as if schooling a child on a simple equation. "Any
Master Artificer can do that." He'd emphasized "Master"
a little harshly.
"Probably, but as we do not seem to have one around here,"
Maki' replied, his tone light. "perhaps you could..." But his
voice faltered when he saw the... the best word he could think
of was "darkness"... settle over the Padawan Artificer's face.
"Or perhaps not," he ended in a whisper.
Tevis turned steely blue eyes on him. "If you're worried about
me having things to do, Master, I assure you that I am not
bored."
Maki' blinked. "But I'm serious, I really need help on this."
He straightened, meeting the young man's glare. "This isn't
busy work, Padawan. I am asking because we need your
assistance. And you obviously know a lot more about data
formats than this Master Healer. Will you help?"
The pale brow creased. "Who is 'we'?"
"Master Jinn and Senior Padawan Kenobi," Maki' replied,
wondering if Tevis was at all interested or just determined to
stew in whatever juices he'd landed himself in.
Tevis looked away, controlling his reaction. He liked Obi-Wan
Kenobi, was drawn to him, was even attracted to him. But there
was something there that bothered him deeply... and that Master
Jinn... He felt again the internal twinge. He feared the tall
Master Healer-Diplomat. Something about the man spelled a power
that made him want to whimper, cower... or at the very least
bow to the ground before.
He glanced back at Maki'; the Healer was patiently waiting for
an answer. [This one hasn't been a Master long,] he decided.
[Perhaps he is different.] Then Tevis swallowed, hard. [But he
is a Master...] "What... what is the archive about, if I might
ask, Master?" he said in a small voice.
Maki' hesitated; his empathy was tingling madly around this
obviously damaged Padawan, though everything else in Maki' told
him to beware, to stay away from this one. [Why, what IS it
about him? The darkness in him is not of his own making, that
much is clear...] "Perhaps, when you were at the Temple, you
heard of the Oraclyne..."
"No," Tevis said flatly. He'd shied from the Healers,
suspicious of their easy-going, happy demeanors. Surely it hid
something deeper, something awful. [Everyone wears a mask,] he
thought morosely.
"Oh," Maki' reacted, surprised. "Well... the Oraclyne is a
pair of Healers, one from the planet Zevdra, one from the
planet Bajrhen, who are matched telepathically in a way that
they can perform powerful Healings together. The archive on
this phenomenon contains data dating back ten thousand years,
and the entire thing is chronological, so it's been a huge
nuisance finding anything in there." For some reason Maki'
hesitated to reveal the identity of the Oraclyne or even that
they were Jedi.
"It's data," Tevis said bluntly. "There's always a way."
"So you do know how to reformat such an archive? It's
massive..."
"Yes." He still would not look at the Master Healer.
Maki' felt the Force guiding him, stilling his own fears.
Resolute, he neared the other man, who stiffened visibly.
"Tevis..." he spoke gently.
Tevis swallowed, clamped down on his own fear, and looked over
into the ice-blue eyes of the Healer. "Yes..." he murmured.
"Please help us, Tevis," Maki' asked, making his voice as
soothing and non-threatening as possible, his hands clasped
behind his back. He wasn't a Diplomat, hadn't trained his voice
like they had, but he was a Healer, and had practice speaking
to frightened, sick people. Tevis, though a Jedi, was at least
sick at heart for some reason. And his entire being screamed of
fear. "Please..."
The flight instinct was strong, but Tevis fought it back,
yielding to the other, still powerful pull... the one he hated,
but knew he had no defense against. He lowered his eyes, took a
step back, and knelt on one knee before the Master. "Yes... I
will obey, Master," he murmured.
Maki' felt the shock of the sudden and unwanted submission
deep in his being. Immediately he went to his knees before the
padawan and clasped the other man's shoulders even though Tevis
froze in his grasp. "No, you do NOT have to obey me, Tevis! I
am requesting your assistance, not ordering you! I am NOT your
Master."
"Obey the Masters," Tevis subvocalized to himself, falling
back on the "litany".
"What did you say?" Maki' shook him gently, trying to look
into his eyes, but Tevis kept his head down.
"Nothing, I said nothing, Master," Tevis muttered, then the
words of the Healer seemed to sink in finally. "Do not have
to... obey?"
"Of course not..." Maki' released him, sitting back on his
heels, bewildered, as he regarded the seemingly dazed young
man. "It was a request. Jedi to Jedi. I would like your help
with this project, that is all. You are an Artificer with
specific knowledge that my colleagues and I can use to assist
us in cataloguing this enormous resource." He paused, wondering
if he was getting through to him. "Tevis, you are a Senior
Padawan though a full Artificer. You will still need to find a
Master if you are to complete your training to become a Jedi
Knight... if you still intend to do that..."
"Yes..." The word came out as a heavy sigh. He must be a
Knight. The Force had marked him for such, long ago. Being Jedi
was his entire existence and he could imagine no other.
"Oh, good," Maki' responded, relaxing a bit. "I understand it
can be difficult, leaving your Discipline for another... if, of
course, that is why you are on Dantooine... to join the
Healers?"
There was a slight movement of the young man's head. Was it a
nod? Maki' chose to take it as such. "I'm glad to hear that,"
he responded gently. "Please come back to the Temple when you
are ready to get to know more of us... you are welcome there,
Tevis."
Tevis let the kind, soothing words sink in. They touched his
heart in needed places. "I... I would like to help with the
archive," he said finally in a small voice.
Maki' heard the pain in the voice and his heart swelled with
sympathy. Impulsively he pulled him into a hug. "Oh, Tevis..."
The man reacted strongly, transmitting a sudden spike of fear
as he roughly pulled away from the embrace, falling back, then
getting up and backing away a few steps hastily. His heart was
pounding, his eyes wide and staring at nothing. Maki' gaped at
him, his arms still out, stunned by the vehemence of the
reaction. "Tevis?"
[Obeythemastersobeythemastersobey...] Tevis ran through the
mantra in his mind a few times, getting himself in hand.
Finally he had dredged up some composure, though he was unable
to look at the Healer. "I am not ready for... that," he
murmured. "Please... " He looked up briefly at the bewildered
gaze of the Healer. "Master."
The single word held a world of emotion in it, enough to send
the mind of the Master Healer spinning: revulsion, longing,
reverence, fear, respect... hope. Maki' Windsailor knew then,
the Force breathing strong within him, that Tevis's Artificer
Master had abused him terribly in some way... or others had...
and that likely a good part of this young man's psyche fully
believed that was the way things were supposed to be. And just
as certainly, Maki' knew through the whisperings of the Force
in a rare moment of prescience that he was going to become
Tevis's new Master. It was meant to be... and likely Tevis
realized it as well. It was the will of the Force as surely as
it had been the will of the Force bringing the Oraclyne
together.
That is, if Tevis Farolo did not break completely before that
could happen. There was a fire in him that Maki' believed was
already fighting the Darkness that the overwhelming fear pulled
in, but he was growing weary from the battle. This war might
already have been lost.
Maki' noticed then that even in his brokenness, Tevis was
beautiful despite the unruly hair and dark circles under his
eyes... and the young man bore a grace that would do honor to
any Knight. Then, realizing he could be subconsciously reacting
to the distant Oraclyne's sexual congress, he put the thought
away.
Tevis moved finally, breaking the spell. He ducked his head
hastily in another bow and turned and went into the house,
leaving the stunned elder behind.
9)
**Oraclys,** Qui-Gon breathed back into their vibrating bond
as he thrust in and out of Obi-Wan's body, gaze burning into
his. **My Oraclys... mine...**
**Yours, always,** Obi-Wan breathed back, clutching the back
of his lover's shoulders as the other rode him smooth and deep.
**The fire... fall into the fire with me, Qui...**
**Falling...** Qui-Gon gasped, throwing his head back once,
then diving down to Obi-Wan's mouth again. He plundered the
sweet depths and was plundered in like, both their tongues
avidly thrusting against each other.
The burn in their bond was building to a delicious heat as the
two sweat-slicked bodies moved together, undulating faster.
Their mouths broke apart again when they had to gasp for breath
moments before their climax hit. Both were absorbed in their
shared sensations, from the exquisite, tight stimulation along
the length of Qui-Gon's penis to the rhythmic massage of
Obi-Wan's prostate until those brief, precious moments where
neither truly knew which was whose...
Together they burst over the edge into a nova of shared
ecstasy in their bond and a flood of shared orgasms through
both their bodies, Qui-Gon coating his lover's passage with his
fluids as Obi-Wan coated their bellies with his own. They
convulsed together, moaning, as the waves of pleasure shuddered
through them both, their mental bond blazing.
When they finally relaxed, breathing hard, the bond calming,
Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan onto his side with him as his softened
penis slipped out. Before the younger man could protest the
separation, the elder drew him closer in his arms and kissed
him deeply though without the earlier urgency. **Mine,
Beloved.**
**Yes... oh, Qui, that was...** Obi-Wan kissed him happily,
then pulled back off his mouth so he could look at him.
"Magnificent," he breathed, smiling, meaning both the
experience and his lover.
"You are," Qui-Gon agreed, returning the smile. He found the
padawan braid and fingered it gently. "See how pointless it
would have been to take a shower?"
"Oh, yeah," Obi-Wan chuckled and wound a length of Qui-Gon's
hair around his finger, playing with it. "Even to brush your
hair out... I think I'd have to do it again anyway."
"As if you'd mind doing it twice..."
"True..." Obi-Wan pressed the hair against his own cheek. "I
love your hair."
"I know," Qui-Gon grinned, indulgent.
Obi-Wan smiled, but then after a moment sobered, looking over
his lover's sweaty face, hair sticking to his forehead in
places. "When you threw me onto the bed... for a split second I
wondered whether we'd started the transition." He ran his own
damp hand over the hair, smoothing it back.
"Did I hurt you?" Qui-Gon asked quietly, averting his eyes.
"Oh, no, of course not," Obi-Wan assured him quickly. "The
look in your eyes..."
"What?" The Master's eyes widened and he looked back at him
again.
"Nothing," Obi-Wan murmured.
"Obi..."
The younger man shrugged, and now it was his turn to avert his
eyes. "It reminded me..."
Qui-Gon gently grasped his chin to turn his face back toward
his. "What, love? What did it remind you of?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, not wanting to see the expression
when he told him. "When... when you were trying to get me to
fight you... when you were sick."
The Master released his chin, and released him altogether to
sit up. He sighed and rubbed at his face. "We haven't talked
about... that... much, have we?" He meant the entire thing, the
whole terrible week when he'd been psychotic after the Healing
on Belvin Three.
"No," Obi-Wan murmured, not looking at him yet. He still lay
on his side, his heart sinking. [I should never have brought it
up,] he thought, kicking himself mentally.
"There's also... the garden," Qui-Gon added quietly, looking
down at him with concern. He'd hated to bring it up, but it was
one more thing between them. It happened that same week.
Obi-Wan, feeling the powerful urges to unite with his Oraclys
that Qui-Gon was, had stumbled upon his master in the Temple
gardens... engaged in sex with his former lovers.
Obi-Wan frowned. "I cannot deal with that until we go back to
Coruscant," he said a little more forcefully than he'd wanted
to.
"I'm sorry," Qui-Gon murmured, wanting to touch him, but
holding back. "We have not talked about how my psychotic
episode affected you. Everything seemed so normal again. Obi?
Why now? Just because I looked at you that way?"
"I know you were teasing," Obi-Wan sighed, and sat up finally,
nudging up a knee against his beloved, but otherwise not
touching. "I don't know."
"We need to talk. This cannot stand between us during the
transition to Stage 2," Qui-Gon said reasonably, worried. "If
hidden aggressions are to come out, then that is when they
would. And I will not hurt you further."
Obi-Wan looked up at him finally. "And I would not hurt you...
"
Qui-Gon's eyes darkened with determination. "We are Jedi and
we are full telepaths. We have controls that most do not. And
we have the Force." His expression lightened after that. "If we
maintain our focus on the Force, I believe we shall be all
right."
"Yes, I believe so, too," Obi-Wan murmured, relaxing as he
shifted back into his lover's embrace. "We shall trust in the
Force."
The Master smiled and bent to kiss him gently, gathering his
young love against his body again. For a long, sweet minute, he
tasted deeply of him, savoring his tongue, his lips. When their
mouths separated again, he sighed and looked deep into his
eyes. "Now. I would prefer you stay right where we are to
discuss... what we need to discuss."
Eyes wide, Obi-Wan nodded. "I prefer that as well, Qui-Gon.
Can... can you tell me how you remember it?"
Qui-Gon sighed, taking up the padawan braid in his fingers
again as if to draw strength from it. "I remember waking up
back on Coruscant after Belvin Three. Immediately there was a
sense of wrongness that was very strong. It was like... like
I'd entered a door and came through changed, though I
remembered the other side, too." He looked searchingly at his
Obi-Wan. "I remember kissing you earlier on the ship... and
both of us accepting together the destiny to become the
Oraclyne. But on Coruscant there was... it was like a voice, a
very insistent voice telling me that was WRONG, that the
Oraclyne must NOT be, something I was unable to resist."
"Like a compulsion?" Obi-Wan asked, staring in amazement.
"Yes..." Qui-Gon frowned, trying to puzzle it out. "The
darkness from the negative energies I was still carrying... and
the mental illness I'd unknowingly drawn into myself...
manifested in this way. During that entire week, it was the one
thing that never changed until we were back on Belvin Three and
you got me to release the energies back into the environment
there where they belonged."
"Perhaps," Obi-Wan began thoughtfully, "since the change in
our relationship and the acceptance of the Oraclyne had been
the newest change in your life, it was the first thing to be
rejected?"
Qui-Gon nodded, tightening his arms around him. "That is a
good possibility. In... in my madness, there were other
voices... but I could not seem to hear them clearly. Something
in me knew not to spar with you or try that Storm Cloud jemna
with you. But I was unable to listen to it." He closed his
eyes, sighing. "Something I have not told you. I was in
near-constant pain... the entire week. Pain I was unable to
dispel as I usually can."
"Qui..." Obi-Wan breathed, then kissed his face tenderly in
several places. "And I could barely feel our bond. You were so
closed off to me."
"Yes." The dark blue eyes opened. "And for that matter, from
the Force. And I could not affect that, either."
"What do you remember of the spirit land?" Obi-Wan asked.
The Master frowned. "The first time... it was all shadows. I
do not think I ever saw you."
"You were unconscious," Obi-Wan explained. It was a painful
memory. "I held the thread of your life in my hands. It
appeared to me as a green rope with a thinner blue one wrapped
around it - our life energies entwined. But between the blue
and the green were four thin threads."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, his cheek against Obi-Wan's forehead.
"The other bonds."
"Yes." Obi-Wan moved a hand up to stroke his lover's cheek in
reassurance. "The remnants of your two lapsed training bonds,
one with Valista, one with Yoda, which he broke himself. And
your bonds with Raen and Jil-ba."
"Valista, when I called her," Qui-Gon murmured, his eyes still
closed, "said she did not feel a thing when that happened. As
with most training bonds, it had lapsed over time and distance.
Hers was pretty much gone already. I hadn't felt her in a long
while."
"Well, it was still there, even as a remnant," Obi-Wan
reminded him gently.
"Yes. I'm sure it pained Yoda to break the bond we had... it
had faded, but it most certainly was still active. The bonds...
with Raen and Jil-Ba had never been that deep, but I know it
pained them regardless." Qui-Gon sighed deeply. "It was all
they had left of me. I'd already left them in so many ways."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes tight. [I will NOT think about the
garden...] "Maki' had been trying to communicate with me. What
I experienced of that was that various dead spirits seemed to
keep appearing."
"Dead... spirits?" Qui-Gon whispered, pressing the padawan
braid to his lips reverently.
"Bant... Cerasi... and Xanatos," Obi-Wan replied. "Through
them, he was able to discern that we had completed the
imprinting and communicate to me that the other four bonds had
to be broken. He and a group of other high telepaths finished
breaking them. Only then could I bring you out of the coma."
[Xani... I hope you are indeed at peace,] Qui-Gon thought,
feeling a twinge of the old pain again.
Maki' hugged his arms to himself, still standing outside the
cottage that the Padawan Artificer occupied. [I will try to
talk to him tomorrow,] he told himself with new resolve. [And
every day. I'll talk to Obi-Wan; maybe he can get Tevis to open
up to him. We must help him...] Sighing, he glanced at the
cottage one last time and started walking back to the main
retreat center where he had a room.
Tevis barely breathed, almost holding his breath until he
sensed the Master Healer move away. He'd thrown himself down on
his bed, still trembling from the encounter. [He just wanted to
be nice to me, make me feel better,] he tried telling himself,
but he knew it was useless. The fear was too rooted in him. [If
I could only remember why I am so afraid,] he thought for the
hundredth time since leaving Corellia. [I am Jedi and I must
obey my Masters,] he added, but the unnerving, gibbering fear
threatened to surge up again.
To calm himself, he thought about Obi-Wan Kenobi. He'd never
met anyone like him before. Obi-Wan was cheerful,
understanding, accepting... balanced. He did not get upset at
the little slights Tevis had thrown him on purpose, testing
him. Something about the other padawan represented a side of
the Jedi Order Tevis had never seen before, did not know
existed, was not sure he believed. Obi-Wan seemed - could it
be? - happy and content to be a Jedi Padawan.
Either that, or someone had done a mind job on Obi-Wan far
more insidious and clever than what had been done on himself.
[He says he's 'taken',] Tevis mused, frowning. [Did he say
that just to put me off or... does he really have an exclusive
lover? Or is it his... Master?] A wave of revulsion passed
through him at the thought. [That Jinn! No...]
He ran his hands up through his hair, mussing it all the more
as he grappled with his emotions. [What if Obi-Wan's in
trouble? What if he's just pretending to be so easy-going?]
Then he remembered. [Jinn corrected him in front of me, but he
did not touch him. And... and he looked right at me!] Tevis
shivered, remembering that intense gaze as it fell upon him.
[He said I had a gift. Jinn said I had a wonderful gift...]
Tevis rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
[Everything is so different here! I can hardly believe they are
also Jedi. Back on Corellia... I hated it there, and they hated
me, but at least I knew my place. This is so different...] He
thought again about the Master Healer's impulsive hug. [I don't
understand... what are they doing? Why do they bother with me?
Is it just because I'm new? Or because I can do a few Artificer
tricks?]
Then he started remembering a few other things, things he
supposed his mind had refused to believe at first. Master
Jinn... looking at his own padawan with amusement and something
that might be called affection were he not a Jedi. Obi-Wan,
winking at his master. [Did I really see that? Jinn... did not
want me to kneel to him - why? Do other Padawans not kneel to
their masters? Obi-Wan did not...]
An image floated through his mind, unbidden: Master Maki'
Windsailor, his ice blue eyes filled with some emotion unknown
to Tevis, windows to another world in a handsome face framed by
silky black-brown hair. The eyes of a Healer. The eyes of... a
Jedi. Tevis felt tears spill from the corners of his eyes.
[Why?]
Peeling off the bed abruptly, Tevis took up his lightsaber
again and went back outside to practice. His amber blade would
flash far into the night.
10)
"The next time we were in the spirit land," Qui-Gon was
remembering, "was when I was catatonic. You came to bring me
out - again."
"Yes," Obi-Wan confirmed, snuggling closer. "But you were
aware then, Qui, weren't you?"
The Master sighed. "I could see and hear you. I saw the others
in white, I saw Xanatos in particular talking to you, walking
around us in a circle. I saw but was unable to speak or move.
It was as if I was emotionally paralyzed."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I think you must have been. You just
looked at me, and hugged your knees with your arms,
unable to react."
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon inquired quietly.
"Yes, love..."
"You had... intimacies of sorts with Xanatos in there, didn't
you?"
The padawan froze for a second, then relaxed. "It wasn't like
that. He was our connection as Oraclyne, Qui. That's what it
looked like, but in truth, it was like I was being bound more
closely to our bond so that I could do the same for you. At
least it seemed like I could. You came out of the catatonia,
but I do not believe you were much changed."
Qui-Gon kissed him hastily, sensing his concern that he was
misunderstanding, or accusing him of something. "I'm not
accusing you of betraying our relationship, love," he murmured,
his lips still close to his. "Although at the time you had
every right to, for I had..."
"NO," Obi-Wan insisted, frowning. "We are not going to keep
going over this, Qui."
"I know, it's all right. What I mean to say is that I believe
now what the archive meant when it said that the spirit land
encounters were not only symbolic... but that they formed an
integral part of our Healing function. And that we can expect
many of the 'encounters' to have an erotic aspect to them.
Like... that. I think we can both accept and understand that
any intimate involvements with others on the spiritual plane
are not going to affect our relationship."
Obi-Wan smiled then, relaxing further, for it was one thing
that he hadn't been sure Qui-Gon had understood. "Oh, you do
understand... that's what I believe, too, and what I felt then.
I did not have any feelings for Xanatos personally. It was the
settling of my psyche more deeply into the connection, that's
all."
Qui-Gon tipped his lover's face up to his to look deep into
his eyes. "Obi, we're essentially going to be intimate with
others on the spirit plane. You're all right with this?"
Obi-Wan looked into the dark blue orbs, wanting to fall into
them. "You're forgetting something - we'll be Healing together.
Not apart."
The Master smiled briefly. "True. Fortunately, this is one
rare area where the archive is actually clear. Oraclyne
Healings tap into primal energies in both Oraclyne and the
entity or entities being Healed. Nothing is more primal than
the urges toward sexual satiation. At least we will join with
no others."
"That didn't work like that when you did the Healing on Belvin
Three, however," Obi-Wan reminded him, still gazing into his
eyes. "Or when I Healed you of the mental illness later."
"I know. Those were not Oraclyne Healings, or not true ones,
anyway. And we had not sexually bonded until later."
Obi-Wan shivered, thinking of that new reality of theirs. It
had settled into their beings steadily since the first time
they had intercourse. Neither would join like that with any
other, ever again, in fact given the strength of their bond,
they felt certain that the Oraclyne connection would prevent
them should they try. They could feel attraction for others,
but could never hunger for another like they hungered for each
other. [He is my life now,] Obi-Wan thought soberly, gazing
into the windows of the other man's soul. [We are bonded into a
permanent unit and will be together forever in the Force...]
Qui-Gon felt a deep wash of love thrum through his being as
his young lover gazed at him with perfect trust and adoration.
**I trust and adore you as well, Beloved,** he sent mentally,
caressing their bond and his lover's open mind. **What happened
on Belvin Three... cannot occur again. We know far more now...
and we are nearly in Stage 2. Soon we will have the controls we
will need as Oraclyne.**
**Yes,** Obi-Wan sent back, returning the mental caresses. **I
am no longer afraid of the transition, Qui.**
**Nor am I...** Qui-Gon smiled warmly at him, rubbing his back
affectionately. He held the gaze for a few moments longer, then
grew serious again, breaking the gaze at last. "We have more to
talk about." He shifted to lay Obi-Wan's head against his neck
again, letting the shorter man snuggle against him, fitting in
tighter. "The Storm Cloud."
Obi-Wan sighed. "You were not in communion with the Force, and
hardly with me. I understand that, Master."
"I think I was trying to prove that the Oraclyne was wrong by
choosing a jemna that was clearly impossible for us at the
time." Qui-Gon sighed and kissed Obi-Wan's hair. "I want to do
that jemna with you again, soon."
"That would be a good thing to do," Obi-Wan agreed, then bit
his lip, daring to bring up another sore subject. "As soon as
you finish your new lightsaber."
The Master Healer-Diplomat had purposely broken his lightsaber
in a moment of anguish over the painful memory of nearly
committing suicide... which would have killed them both.
Although he'd since decided he would make a new lightsaber -
Yoda had made it adamantly clear to him he would not be
training Obi-Wan to Knighthood without one - he still had not
finished working on it.
"Yes. I haven't explained to you about that," Qui-Gon replied
quietly.
Something about his lover's tone of voice puzzled Obi-Wan. He
pulled out of their embrace to sit up and look down at Qui-Gon.
"Why haven't you finished it? I've seen you work on it, but I
didn't want to pry... you poke at it, look terribly frustrated,
then put it away."
Qui-Gon sighed deeply. "There's... something... new that I
want to put into the design, but... it's been elusive. I think
I know what I want to do, but I really do not know how to go
about doing it."
Obi-Wan frowned, surprised. "A new feature of a lightsaber? A
new function?"
"Yes." The Master took the other's hands in his. "You know a
lightsaber, for a Jedi, is far more than a weapon. It can be a
focal nexus of a Jedi's power with the Force. But for telepaths
such as we, it can become a conduit for more specific
applications of power such as shielding... and Healing."
"It can?" Obi-Wan asked, shocked. "I've never heard of that!"
Qui-Gon smiled up at him wanly. "I doubt that you've ever seen
Master Contemplative Poof's lightsaber. Or T'kennu's, for that
matter." He'd named the two most powerful telepaths in the
order. "There are very rare crystals that resonate in unusual
ways for only minds of a certain caliber. They're called
Kaistars. A telepathic mind like yours or mine can make a
Kaistar-enhanced lightsaber cast a psychic barrier around the
wielder that can block any sort of firepower or propellant.
They can also be aligned so that the barrier is instead a kind
of Healing zone, a field around the Healer that enhances the
telepath's Healing abilities."
"Amazing," Obi-Wan breathed, though a small part of him felt
frustration because this was the first time his master had
deigned to share this with him. He'd seen Qui-Gon work on the
lightsaber, but as it was a sore subject already, he hadn't
inquired about it. "Um, so you have one of these Kaistar
crystals?"
"T'kennu gave me one," Qui-Gon murmured, releasing his lover's
hands. "Naturally I cannot use his design or Poof's either, for
that matter, because neither of them are human. The technology
is proving elusive. I might be able to adapt Poof's, though...
except that I'd probably have to go to Coruscant to do it."
The Oraclyne had not been on Coruscant for a month, staying
away from the main Jedi Temple and the home of the Diplomat
Discipline to avoid the Council's interference with their
developmental stages... and also to steer clear of the mental
pressure of the population of billions on the planet for the
same reason. "Right," Obi-Wan sighed, "which is out of the
question now. So, what will you do?"
"Keep trying, I suppose. Or give up and finish it as a
standard lightsaber using only my usual crystals." Qui-Gon
rolled onto his side against Obi-Wan's folded up left leg and
laid a large hand on the younger man's muscular thigh, giving
it a light caress. "Back to the original subject... after I
came out of the catatonia I felt almost normal except that I
seemed to be reacting as if everything had already been played
out. I was detached from my emotions in a way I'm sure I never
have before."
"Except you did get angry and impatient," Obi-Wan murmured,
filtering a hand back into the long mane of dark brown hair.
"It didn't seem real, or seem like they were my emotions, Obi.
I could not feel the Force, I could not affect my emotions at
all. I was just reacting as the compulsion told me to. Then,
when I saw how I was hurting you, it all snapped." Qui-Gon
lowered his eyes. "I was on a collision course between my
compulsion to reject the Oraclyne connection and my fear of
hurting you. In the spirit land I was facing a sheer black
cliff that reached to the sky. Xanatos told me I had to get
past it, but I saw no way around it, no way to climb it, and no
way to destroy it."
"The mountain," Obi-Wan whispered. "I don't imagine Xanatos
was a welcome sight, either, at that point."
"No... I was unable to believe he had truly repented. So you
see... I was caught."
Obi-Wan nodded, his throat tight with emotion. **You saw death
as the only way out.**
Qui-Gon laid his head on Obi-Wan's knee, his eyes filling with
tears. **It was the only way out. Without intervention,
I had no alternative. Even if it meant taking you with me into
the Force. And somehow I believed that we would both be one in
the Force, that the sacrifice would have been deemed just under
those circumstances.**
**Yes, I believe you are right,** Obi-Wan returned, feeling
his own tears spill down his cheeks. **Oh, Beloved, and I was
ready to come with you. Not only that, but Xanatos... as the
Oraclyne connection... had also conceded defeat.**
**It cannot again,** Qui-Gon sent back, his resolve firming
again. He wiped away his tears, laid a kiss on his lover's
knee, then sat up. **The connection is stronger, far stronger.
What happened then, cannot be repeated. It was the will of the
Force that we lived through that.** He looked over at Obi-Wan,
then, and reached to wipe away his lover's tears as well. "You
and Maki' should have put me under long before that, I think."
Obi-Wan shrugged and hid his face against Qui-Gon's shoulder.
"We had no idea it had gotten that bad," he croaked, then
crawled into his lover's lap, wrapping his lean body around the
larger one of the Jedi Master. "Oh, Qui, enough... just... love
me?"
Almost before he could finish speaking his mouth had been
captured in a kiss. **Eternally,** his Oraclys sent.
The amber blade was shut off, then the hilt was dropped as
Tevis Farolo weaved in exhaustion. [I must win, must succeed,]
he thought as he bent to pick up his lightsaber. [I must please
the Masters so that...] The thought was left unfinished. He
truly did not know what would happen if he did not please the
Masters. But he knew he must.
After returning indoors, Tevis took a shower and slipped into
sleep pants, then fell heavily onto his bed, not even bothering
to slip under the covers. He was asleep in seconds.
The dream started pleasantly enough. Back in the forest, Tevis
had not only crashed into the runner, but had rolled on top of
him. He and Obi-Wan were laughing, then Tevis had dived into
his mouth. The other Padawan returned the kiss playfully at
first, teasing Tevis's tongue, then the kiss turned ardent as
the Artificer rolled underneath him and shifted to align their
groins. Then they were groaning into each other's mouth as
passion swept through both young bodies.
"Want you, Obi-Wan," Tevis gasped as he pulled his mouth away
for air. "Need you inside me."
"Yesss..." the younger man agreed readily, kissing a trail
down to his neck where he paused to suckle at a fold of skin,
worrying it red. This made Tevis groan all the more, then he
was pushing at Obi-Wan's tunics, needing to get at his skin.
Hastily he freed the other man's belt and sash, then worried
the ties on the tunics loose, pulling them back over his
shoulders. Laughing again, Obi-Wan shrugged out of the tunics,
backing off in order to remove the rest of his clothing, while
Tevis watched, his eyes hungrily taking in the slim, muscled
body of the other padawan.
"What are you looking at?" Obi-Wan chuckled, as the other
gaped at him.
"A god," Tevis growled, letting his glance rake slowly down
over Obi-Wan's body, settling on the groin where the rampant
erection stood jutting out, a pearl of moisture at the tip.
"And I need to worship you..."
The other man's laugh rang clear and free in the forest, then
Obi-Wan's expression changed. "You're overdressed. Strip and
turn around for me, on your knees."
The note of command in the shorter man's voice sent a shiver
through Tevis. He hastily complied, his own erection springing
free as he yanked off his leggings. When he was naked, he got
down on hands and knees, facing away, aching for the other to
touch him again.
Then his buttocks was slapped, hard. The force of the blow
shuddered through him. Shocked, he whipped his head around and
was stunned to see that the man behind him was no longer
Obi-Wan Kenobi, but that padawan's master, the formidable
Qui-Gon Jinn. The huge Jedi Master was as naked as he, his
erection even more intimidating, and the man's eyes were
midnight blue coals of want. "M...Master Jinn," Tevis gasped,
then trembled as his bottom was slapped again.
"You will obey me," Jinn snapped, then slapped his hard length
on Tevis's behind, leaving no doubt as to what was coming. "I
am a Master and you must obey the Masters..."
Before Tevis could think, he was gasping, "I must obey the
Masters!" Then he gasped again as Jinn grabbed his hips and
slid the length of his erection up through his crease.
"This is your proper place in the Order... on your knees in
the service of a Master, is it not?" Jinn sneered the words as
if it was nearly beneath him to even speak to a padawan.
Tears sprang to Tevis's eyes. "Yes, it is my proper place..."
He began to tremble, knowing what was coming and that it was
his duty to endure it. [Must obey...]
"Never forget that, no matter what else you may know," Jinn
muttered. Then Tevis cried out as his opening was breached.
Glancing again over his shoulder he saw... not Qui-Gon Jinn...
but to his horror it was his old master, Mor-Daz Xish, fucking
him with utterly no expression on his face, taking what was
his.
"NO!" Tevis cried out, sitting up in bed, his heart pounding,
eyes staring... but he was awake now. It had been a dream. He
frowned in bewilderment for the memories of the dream sifted
away, never to be recovered, like water down a drain. In a few
seconds he remembered nothing of it, just that it had been
terrible. "Must obey..." he murmured, then shook his head,
wondering why he said that. His heart was slowing, his mind
calming.
When he fell asleep again, only the image of a different
Master haunted his dreams, a Master with kind eyes and a gentle
touch, his voice soothing and quiet... a Master with long,
black hair and a neat, short beard... dressed in blue.
================
11)
Obi-Wan, sweat darkening his hair, groaned as his lover
swallowed his erection to its root. His fists clutched
desperately at the long mane, the sensations rippling up and
down his length from the expert attention making him wild with
need.
[I thought I was sated,] he mused with irony,
astonished at how Qui-Gon was so plugged into his exact need.
His whole lower body shuddered as his climax approached, nerves
tingling toward overload. **Lover...**
**Beloved, mine...** Qui-Gon sent back, his touch on the
other's mind as exquisite as his mouth and throat was on his
penis. **Give me your all, my Obi...**
Crying out, Obi-Wan came, his seed pulsing deep into his
beloved's throat, his grip on the other's hair brutal, his
whole body convulsing with the power of his climax. And there
in his mind his lover rode the crest with him, deeply entwined
with his every sensation. Obi-Wan's eyes were squeezed shut,
tears of intensity leaking through when suddenly they flew
open. Qui-Gon, though still milking him gently with his mouth,
had a handful of creamy semen in his hand from his own
ejaculation. The sight of it sent a second quick rush through
the younger man.
Abruptly Obi-Wan was sitting up, and he reached to bring that
hand to him. Qui-Gon made a surprised noise, something like a
whimper, as his beautiful young lover began to lap up his
fluids, cleaning his hand with a devotion that sang powerfully
in the Force around them, and deep in their minds.
Then the Jedi Master was climbing back up the bed to collect
the smaller man's body close against his own, fitting Obi-Wan
tight against his body. At the same time, he found his lover's
mouth and kissed him deeply. For long, sweet minutes they
tasted of each other's fluids, feeling the tightening of their
bond joining their minds and life forces. Their imprinting was
nearly complete, only the final step still awaiting them that
would seal their energies together for all time.
Qui-Gon pulled away first, tucking Obi-Wan's head against his
neck, tightening his arms around him. **We should sleep, Obi,**
he whispered into his mind with a soft mental caress.
**Tomorrow is an important day for us.**
Obi-Wan's lips were suckling gently on the skin of Qui-Gon's
throat. "Mmmm..."
**You really want to start this all over again?** The Master's
mental tone was amused, though also weary.
**Tastes good...**
Qui-Gon refrained from suckling the earlobe so close to his
mouth. "Obi-Wan, love..." He found and twined the padawan's
braid around his fingers, intending to tug if necessary.
**Oh, all right... shower?** Obi-Wan shifted up again to claim
another kiss.
The response took a long while in coming. **Ohhh... yes, we
should shower.** But the Master made no move for another long
minute, still kissing. Then he got up abruptly, a hand under
Obi-Wan's arm, pulling him up with him. "Shower," he sighed.
To the older man's relief, Obi-Wan finally displayed signs of
his own weariness, and they showered beside one another in
companionable silence, though still they couldn't resist
"helping" clean one another, and of course their minds were
still lightly entwined. But the intense urges had passed, and
they managed to get clean and fall into bed together a short
while later. Qui-Gon fell asleep first, and Obi-Wan, sitting
with his lover's head in his lap, finally got to comb out his
hair.
On Coruscant, another Master Healer was dealing with his own
heightened level of frustration, though not over the Oraclyne,
though he was basically working on their behalf. Master
Gallidys Hyr was getting nowhere - again - with the Jedi High
Council. They remained divided on the matter of the Oraclyne
claiming dual Discipline membership. And Gali Hyr hadn't yet
been able to convince them that the situation ranged far beyond
Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He was kneeling in the Thon Meditation Garden when he was
alerted to a presence in the Force... not just anyone, but a
strongly telepathic member of the Council. "Plo," he murmured
in greeting, straightening as Master Plo Koon knelt before him,
bidding him remain where he was.
"Gali, I am sorry for this morning's session," Plo Koon began,
his breathing apparatus making his voice sound a bit
mechanical. "When Windu started in on the charter of the
Diplomat Discipline, I knew I had to speak to you alone."
Gali, a Pyrrthvan whose tall feathered head crest often showed
his state of mind, peered over at the Councilor, his crest
flattened with the discouragement he was feeling. "What about?
Windu has virtually dismissed the entire Healer Discipline as
being undisciplined and too free with our members. I guess it's
a foreign notion to him that caring and compassion are good
things for Jedi to have."
Plo put a hand to the other's arm in sympathy. "I understand.
And that is why I have decided I can no longer hold back...
what I know."
The Healer narrowed his eyes at the Councilor. Because of the
breath mask, there was nothing to read in the other man's
expression. Only his Force signature revealed that he was also
subtly upset by the recent setbacks and the intractability of
half of the Jedi Council. "What do you know, Plo?"
The other shifted, pausing to ascertain that no one else was
near. Then he drew out from an inner pocket of his robe a data
chip. "That unrest in the Order is not centered around a
particular pair of bonded Jedi Healer-Diplomats. Though
hopefully they are and will be the catalyst for the changes
that must come." He gave the chip to the Healer.
"What's this?" Gali began to get a funny feeling. [There is
more?]
Plo nodded gravely. "Since the discovery of the Oraclyne, I
have begun to do research on requests to the Council from other
Disciplines... and have investigated into similar requests of a
particular nature that have come to the Boards of the
Disciplines from their members. Most specifically, requests for
cross-Disciplinary training... and transfers." He gestured at
the chip in Gali's hand. "My findings. In brief, Gali, there
are problems, most specifically in..." He paused, for this was
the core of his own unrest over the whole situation. "The
Artificer Discipline."
"Artificers?" Gali was puzzled, then thought briefly about the
strange Padawan Artificer that had appeared mysteriously on
Dantooine a month ago. The boy had seemed troubled
but... was this related?
"I think you know as well as I do how fiercely clannish they
are," Plo murmured, lowering his voice. "Ever meet Master
Belistad?"
"Jak Belistad?" Gali snorted. Master Jak "Happy" Belistad, the
most influential Artificer, was based on Coruscant, not
Corellia, and though he waxed eloquent to any who would hear
about the accolades of his Discipline, it was suspected he was
not in touch with Corellia as much as he might need to be.
"According to 'Happy Bel', his Discipline is perfect and all
their members powerful Jedi attuned to the Force."
"And that's all the Council has heard, I'm afraid," Plo
sighed, his voice coming through the breathing mask with a
curious "whuffing" sound. "There have been an alarming number
of requests for transfers, however. Well, six requests in the
past year... that's a lot. Including one to your Healers."
Gali nodded, the head crest bobbing. "Met 'im. A Padawan who
is a Full Artificer."
The Councilor was stunned. "Really! Well, I can see that he
might need a challenge..."
"Goes deeper than that," Gali interrupted. "The boy's not
right somehow. He's at our retreat center right now. I'm hoping
he opens up to someone, perhaps even our Oraclyne if they run
into him."
The other man nodded, but Gali sensed a hesitation. Then the
sigh came again. "Gali, can you tell me how Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan
are doing? I... regret I was unable to help them more when they
were here last."
[When they were comatose, and then Qui came out of that
psychosis,] Gali remembered, then remembered also that Plo Koon
had fought alongside Qui-Gon Jinn in the Hyperspace Wars. [No
wonder he's concerned... they were friends.] "Plo, much of that
was out of our hands, you know that." He held up the datachip.
"This is going to more than make up for any lapse any of us may
have had in assisting the Oraclyne. Trust me."
The Councilor nodded gratefully. "I hope so... and how are
they?"
It was the Pyrrthvan's turn to sigh. "I heard from Maki'
Windsailor just a few hours ago," he explained. "They're
expecting to transition into Stage 2 of their development
process today. According to the archive, it could be traumatic.
Otherwise, they're well."
"I would love to go to Dantooine to see them," Plo murmured.
"But as you can see..." He gestured at the datachip. "I can
help them a lot more here, I think."
"I would say so," Gali agreed, grinning. "So, care to go over
these with me? And, say, is there anything on our Padawan
Artificer in here?"
Plo shook his head. "Just a formal request from Master Nadd of
the Instrumentation Cell of the Artificer Discipline...
although in that case, I believe it was not exactly a request
for a transfer, but a notification of one. Interesting..."
Gali pictured again the young man he'd found literally on the
doorstep to the Healers' Temple on Dantooine a month ago. The
padawan radiated fear and confusion. "Did you say 'Nadd'?"
The Councilor nodded. "I know, it's quite an infamous name. I
believe he actually is a descendent of the ancient Dark Jedi,
Freedon Nadd. I've met him, though. He seems to be nothing
unusual for a Master Artificer, though a bit of a control
fanatic and somewhat detached emotionally. Yet still nothing
that should raise alarms..."
"That we can tell," Gali interrupted. He snorted in contempt.
"Has any of the Council stepped foot on Corellia recently?"
"Not to my knowledge," Plo admitted. He felt his internal
alarms going off, which he suspected was also happening in the
Healer's mind. "Belistad is here, and reports often enough,
so... Gali, you think there is really something seriously wrong
with that Discipline?"
Gali remembered the haunted look in the young Artificer's
eyes... and the closed expressions of Mace Windu and his
supporters on the Council. "There's a disturbance in the Force,
that's all I know. And I also know that in this time the Jedi
Order has been gifted with a pair of extraordinary Healers, an
Oraclyne. I cannot help but think it cannot be a coincidence."
Plo Koon nodded and bowed, then both Masters, Healer and
Contemplative, rose from their knees and went to find a data
terminal.
Obi-Wan woke first, rising out of a sleepy haze with hair in
his eyes. Qui-Gon's. Chuckling softly, he levered up, and
smoothed down the errant hair. [I'll just have to brush it
again,] he noted happily. Then he looked up at the face of his
beloved. Relaxed, Qui-Gon Jinn looked even younger than his new
appearance-age of forty. [When he was locked into the
psychosis,] Obi-Wan remembered soberly, [he looked so old, at
least sixty... I hope I do not have to see that for a very long
time...]
He stretched, flexing his muscles. [Was that only a month
ago?] Obi-Wan felt his broadened chest, his face. There was
stubble where there used to be not much more than fuzz in the
mornings. [I may look and feel older on the outside, but I
still feel like eighteen,] he mused, rubbing his face. [And I
have a long way yet before I'll be a Knight, even if I'm half
of the Jedi Oraclyne. Especially since I have two Disciplines
to study now...] But he knew it was all worth it. Looking down
at his lover's relaxed face, he knew it was more than worth it.
[My master,] Obi-Wan thought proudly. [My beautiful, loving,
skilled and serene Master, so intelligent, so powerful... and I
get to love him finally. Ah, the Force has been good...]
Qui-Gon stirred, making a soft little noise, one large hand
reaching. Coming in contact with Obi-Wan's arm, the hand closed
around it purposefully, then Obi-Wan laughed as he was abruptly
hauled back onto his lover's chest which he'd abandoned. "Oh,
you ARE awake!"
"Not awake. Needing cuddle toy," a sleepy voice muttered,
unrepentant.
Snuggling in, Obi-Wan laughed all the more. "You think I'm a
cuddle toy!?"
One dark blue orb opened to peer narrowly at him. "Extremely.
If you're complaining, I will have to find another."
"Ah, no complaints here," Obi-Wan murmured, bringing one of
Qui-Gon's hands to his mouth. He began to suckle casually on
the large thumb.
The Jedi Master drew his breath in sharply. "Force!" he
exclaimed, pulling his hand away indignantly, and when his
apprentice made a face at him, he dove in for a deep kiss,
forestalling a discussion.
For several long minutes the two Jedi kissed thoroughly but
leisurely, the urgency gone as they were still fairly sated
from the lovemaking of the night before. Then Obi-Wan drew his
lips away and shifted to fit his head into the crook of
Qui-Gon's neck. "Today..." he murmured.
Qui-Gon kissed his forehead and relaxed, closing his eyes. "I
know." Today was their transition.
Obi-Wan brought his lover's hand back up to his lips again,
but just laid the back of Qui-Gon's fingers near his mouth.
"Tevis and I plan to spar together sometime this morning...
eleventh hour, I think we said. Though I'd like to get that
over with earlier... just in case."
"You like Tevis... you'd like to be friends with him?" There
was a smile in Qui-Gon's voice, but an underlying worry as
well. Tevis's reactions to the Jedi Master were... disturbing.
"Yes, I do and I would," Obi-Wan murmured. "I've... left
behind friends on Coruscant... as have you. Now that we're
apparently going to be calling Dantooine home for likely some
time, both of us should make new friends among the Healers. And
Tevis is going to be taking the same training we are, if indeed
he is here to train as a Healer. Besides, he's a challenge."
"Possibly more of a challenge than you need," Qui-Gon
cautioned him slowly. "There is Darkness in him."
"Not in him, Qui," Obi-Wan was quick to point out.
"Around him. Dark things may lie in his past, but that does not
mean he has turned. On occasion those wounded by Dark can
become the strongest advocates for Light."
Qui-Gon sighed. "I hope you're right. My senses fairly tingle
around him... and I believe that some of those senses are
Oraclyne senses. I think we've both experienced this... the
call to ease, the call to heal..."
"I know what you mean." Obi-Wan kissed the back of Qui-Gon's
fingers. "I did feel that around Tevis. I think it's our
Oraclyne connection operating outwardly through our empathic
potential."
"Astute analysis, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied with amusement and
not a little fondness. "Amazing that as we turn more fully to
one another, becoming imprinted on each other, our empathy is
sharpened and turned outward. I believe this is why the
Oraclyne has been so effective as a pair. We cannot function
like that apart from one another. Our connection is what makes
the Oraclyne what it is. Anyway, I hope you can befriend Tevis.
I hope he lets you in. I've never seen a young man who needs a
friend more than he does."
Obi-Wan sat up abruptly and looked down at his beloved. "I'd
like to go over and see him... and hopefully bring him back
over here for our sparring session. Well, for firstmeal, too.
May I, please, Master?"
Qui-Gon had the amused thought that once again they'd
subconsciously shifted from their role as lovers to that of
Master-Padawan. It was his greatest relief as a teacher that
his student could maturely handle such abrupt transitions and
instinctively knew when each role was appropriate. "Yes, my
Padawan, you may." But when Obi-Wan started to get up from the
bed, the large hand of the Master closed around his wrist. "How
are you feeling?"
**Beloved?** Obi-Wan froze and looked back at him. "Ah...
fine, I think. You?"
The Master sat up, sighing. "Fine as well. This would be
easier if we knew we would have some warning. And I think
you're right to have your session with Tevis as soon as
possible. There is no apparent trigger for the transition, but
I think we'd be better off leaving as much of the day open as
we can."
Obi-Wan pulled his wrist out of the other's clasp, but then
took the hand in his, squeezing it. "I agree." He leaned back
down for a last kiss. **I love you, Qui.**
**And I you, Obi,**
A final squeeze of hands, and Oraclys separated from Oraclys.
============
12)
After getting cleaned up and dressed, Obi-Wan sprinted over to
the next cottage some several hundred meters away, enjoying the
sunshine of the early summer morning. He sensed the
Force-signature of the other padawan, but it was at a low ebb;
Tevis was either still asleep or just waking up. Obi-Wan now
sensed the other thing, the sense Qui-Gon had been referring to
- his Oraclyne Need.
[Amazing,] Obi-Wan thought as he paused by the door. [This
wasn't in the archive, so perhaps our Force-sensitivity is what
allows us to actively sense the Need.] He closed his eyes,
letting his mind sense what it could of the other. As before,
there was the undercurrent of unease in the Artificer, and the
subtle pull on Obi-Wan to ease the troubled spirit here.
The door opened abruptly, Tevis throwing it wide in surprise
to see his visitor. Obi-Wan did not wait to be invited,
shouldering his way into the cottage. "Want to come over for
firstmeal?" he offered, looking around the inside, pretending
to be curious about the decor.
"What?" Tevis muttered, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing only
his robe, a fistful of fabric holding it closed in the front.
"What are you doing here?"
Obi-Wan turned a bright smile on him. "Wanted to see where you
live... come on, Qui-Gon will fix us firstmeal."
Tevis gaped at him in shock. "You call your master by his
first name?"
"Sometimes," Obi-Wan replied cheerfully.
"He... cooks?"
"Fabulously," Obi-Wan answered, laughing at Tevis's
expression. "What, your master never cooked?"
"No!" Tevis colored and narrowed his eyes at the other. "A
Jedi Padawan is his master's servant, not the other way
around."
Obi-Wan tucked that piece of information away.
[Interesting...] He continued to make light of things. "Maybe
in your Jedi Order, Tev. Not mine. Now, you going to get
dressed or do I have to do it for you?"
"Tease," Tevis sneered, brushing past him to re-enter his
bedroom. "I should make you..."
"Try me," Obi-Wan teased, then danced out of the way when the
other padawan threw a handy pillow at him.
Tevis shut the door on him, but he was half-tempted to call
Obi-Wan's bluff. To his surprise, as he went into his refresher
unit, he realized he was grinning. [The Artificers would eat
him alive,] he thought, shaking his head. [Perhaps literally.
That would wipe that smirk off his face...]
Obi-Wan wandered around, but found nothing in the cottage that
would tell him anything about the Padawan Artificer. Well,
nothing unusual. There was a kit of tools and small
instrumentation devices of high quality, something more sacred
to an Artificer than his lightsaber. But no evidence of
projects he was working on. The data terminal, connected to the
Healers' Temple network, was on, but the last display had timed
out. In the kitchen, Obi-Wan wondered what the other man had
been living on, for it was nearly empty of food stores.
By the time Obi-Wan wandered back out into the main living
area, Tevis was cleaned up - though did he ever comb his hair?
- dressed in his usual Artificer tunics of deep golden yellow,
and checking the open kit to be sure everything was there.
"What, you think anyone came in the middle of the night and
stole something?" Obi-Wan asked casually, ignoring the fact
that Tevis was probably checking to be sure he didn't
take anything.
Guiltily, Tevis straightened. "No, of course not," he said
quickly.
Obi-Wan decided it was time to confront the other man on
something. He stepped in front of him and looked up at the
Artificer, studying his face. "Don't you trust me, Tev?"
Tevis tossed his head back, flipping a few errant strands of
dark brown hair out of his eyes. "Why should I? You're a...
a... Diplomat, or else you were. Now... whatever."
The response was met with narrowed eyes. "But we're both Jedi.
And you're here to learn Healer sciences, same as me... aren't
you?"
"I... I... yes," Tevis answered, uncomfortable. This padawan
was so direct! "What else am I going to do?" He tore his eyes
away, unable to hold the gaze.
Obi-Wan grabbed his tunic sleeve and tugged, commanding his
attention again. "Tevis, I think there's something we need to
talk about."
"What?" Tevis pulled his sleeve free and glared at him.
"What?"
"You," Obi-Wan said bluntly.
The Artificer... flinched. "Nothing to talk about," he
snapped, turning away again. But the Healer-Diplomat was still
in his way, edging closer and stepping in front of him.
"Tev, please," Obi-Wan murmured in a softer tone. "Please talk
to me..." Within, he felt the Need increase as his proximity to
the other man increased. He lay a hand on Tevis's shoulder.
"You need this..." he added in a whisper. As he touched him, he
felt something like an internal sigh within, the Oraclyne Need
reaching out to ease the man's spirit.
Tevis sighed, reacting unconsciously to the touch of the
Healer, though he took Obi-Wan's hand and rather gently removed
it. "No," he whispered. "Not... not yet. Please." His haunted
eyes looked off toward the floor somewhere.
Obi-Wan clasped his hand firmly but gently, realizing that
Tevis probably wasn't aware they were still touching. "I'll be
here when you're ready," he whispered back.
The Artificer nodded absently, his hollow gaze registering
nothing, then he came back to himself a little, and took his
hand back. "Yeah," he muttered, then turned away. He picked up
his lightsaber from a shelf and affixed it to his belt as
Obi-Wan patiently waited, arms crossed, regarding him solemnly.
Tevis looked back up at him, composed again.
"Firstmeal?" Obi-Wan offered again, a smile returning to his
lips.
Tevis nodded, but when Obi-Wan would move toward the door, he
stopped him, a hand briefly touching his arm. "Wait... there's
something I need to ask you, Obi."
"Yeah?" Obi-Wan turned back. [This sounds encouraging...
anything to keep him talking,] he thought.
A flash of pain went through the wan countenance of the
Artificer, then it was gone, a mask of impassivity dropping.
"You and your Master... you said you were 'taken' - by him? Is
he..." Tevis glanced away, unable to bear the gaze of the
other.
[Now it comes out,] Obi-Wan mused, resigned. [Judging from his
reaction to Masters, I don't imagine this is going to sit well
with him. But if we're going to be friends, he should certainly
know about this...] "We have a permanent commitment together,
yes," Obi-Wan replied quietly. "It's occasionally tricky
balancing being lovers with being Master and Padawan. But...
it's worth it. I've loved him for a long time..."
For a bad moment, Tevis didn't think he could breathe. Then he
gulped a breath and swallowed a gasp, turning away to disguise
his reaction. The only word he could get out was "When?"
"When did we become lovers?" Obi-Wan looked at him closely.
His wasn't that unusual of a situation, he knew.
"When did he first... take..." Tevis couldn't say anymore.
[Cannotsay mustobeyMasters mustobeyMasters
cannotsaycannotsay...]
Obi-Wan shook his head. "It wasn't like that, Tev. Well, it's
a long story, but it was my idea first..."
"Couldn't." Tevis felt lightheaded, a pulsing pain beginning
behind his eyes. [Mustnoteversay cannot cannot...]
"What?" Obi-Wan put a hand on his back, bewildered. Tevis was
reacting strangely. "Couldn't what?"
But the Artificer Padawan was unable to speak. He waved his
hand in agitation, then pulled away, something in him refusing,
repelling the Healing touch. Tevis weaved toward the kitchen,
and after a moment Obi-Wan followed, watching in confusion as
the other man got a glass of water and began gulping it down.
Tevis took a few deep breaths, finally getting himself in
hand. He hadn't panicked like that since... well, it had been a
long time, he thought. Then he felt the touch again, the soft
warmth of mind touching him through the other's fingertips on
his back. He allowed it.
"Tev... are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked gently. His Need was
tingling madly, but he knew he couldn't push Healing onto the
other, that whatever had him so disturbed must be dealt with
when Tevis was ready, only then.
The Artificer drank in the balm of his touch, then turned
around slowly. When Obi-Wan laid hands on his upper arms and
rubbed lightly, Tevis sighed, beginning to relax. "Yeah..."
Then he looked up and deep into Obi-Wan's eyes, a concerned,
measured look. "Are you? Is that truly what you want? You're
happy... with him?"
Obi-Wan gave him the exact look back. "Deliriously. And I have
no idea what the Sithhell freaks you out about Masters so
badly, but in the Jedi Order that I know, it is NOT like that.
My Master is firm with me and challenges me to the edge of my
limits, but he loves me deeply and would never hurt me."
[Defending them... it's part of it,] Tevis thought, nodding
slowly. Then he realized it mattered a great deal to him that
Obi-Wan was happy, that this bright, open spirit who had
offered friendship to a broken, frightened man such as he was
worth any protection he could return, any manner of
assistance... if he needed it. Needed to get away. Like he had.
"I hope so," he replied, meaning far more. Shyly, Tevis clasped
Obi-Wan's elbows in a light embrace. "I... I want to be your
friend, too, Obi-Wan. T...thanks..."
Impulsively, the younger padawan pulled the other man into his
arms, ignoring how Tevis tensed up before finally relaxing
minutely. "Oh, Tev, I'm so glad! I haven't made any friends
here near my own age yet. I hope we can study together,
maybe..." Obi-Wan pulled back, looking into Tev's rather glassy
gaze. "Are you going to ask for a Master?"
Flinch. Then Tev gently rested his forehead against the crown
of Obi-Wan's head. "Y...yes." The word held nothing but dread
in it.
Obi-Wan's heart ached for him, and he tightened his arms
around the other man. "It's safe here, Tev. You'll see." He
thought of Maki' Windsailor, knowing that he would be generous
and tender with the scarred young Artificer.
"I wish..." Tevis started to say, then shut up, closing his
eyes tightly, a frown creasing his brow.
"What do you wish, Tev?" Obi-Wan patted his back reassuringly,
keeping his voice low and soothing. He could feel the other
respond to his touch, feel the subtle Healing energy flow from
him to the other. It was but a trickle - on this side of the
Oraclyne development - but it was a taste of what was to come,
and it filled him with joy, a joy balanced by his friend's
sharp emotional hurts.
"That you were not... 'taken'," Tevis answered simply.
Obi-Wan released him slowly. "I know... and I'm sorry." He met
his eyes again, then smiled. "Come on, let's get firstmeal. I'm
starving."
Tevis managed a slight curve to his mouth that was the
beginnings of a smile. "Yeah, me, too."
Both padawans inhaled deeply with pleasure when they crossed
the threshold of the other cottage. The rooms were filled with
fragrant aromas from the Jedi Master's culinary efforts. Tevis
gaped in wonder to see the common room table spread with
delicious foods: grilled sausages, a fruit-based flan, fresh
sliced bread and preserves. "Sit, you hungry mongrels," Qui-Gon
waved at them with a grin, pouring tea. "I invited Maki' as
well; he'll be along shortly. Good morning, Tevis."
Tevis glanced quickly at Obi-Wan, who nodded, smiling broadly.
"Good morning, Master Jinn," he replied in a small voice. He
could barely look at the tall Master. Now that he knew that
Jinn and his new friend were in fact lovers... he wasn't sure
how to act around them. And he was still worried about Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan impulsively kissed his master on the cheek before
sitting down. "You haven't made the flan in a while, Master!
Tev, you'll love it. He makes it with three different kinds of
fruit. Hmmm, let's see... these are local. Buriberry, cango,
and whitrine, I believe."
"You know the contents of our cooler well, Padawan," Qui-Gon
responded with a wink to Tevis. He set the teapot on the table,
then moved to a free chair, stroking his lover's hair with
affection in passing. He sat down and picked up a fork. Beside
him, Obi-Wan was already tucking into his meal. Tevis was just
sitting there, looking bemused. "You'd better eat up, Tevis,"
the Master commented, serving himself a slice of flan. "You're
going to need your strength to best my Obi-Wan."
Tevis unfroze finally. "He doesn't scare me," he murmured,
helping himself to a couple sausages and a slice of flan. The
Master's touching his padawan's hair shocked him; the gesture
was so affectionate... loving.
Maki' came in just then. "Sorry I'm late... hmmm, smells and
looks good! Obi-Wan, did you make firstmeal?" The Master Healer
draped his robe over the sofa and came over to join them.
"Oh, no, I don't have the patience to cook like this," Obi-Wan
chuckled and stuffed more flan in his mouth.
"Obi-Wan is a fair chef himself," Qui-Gon commented and took a
sip of tea. "And he has patience aplenty when he puts his mind
to it."
"It's just more fun to let you cook," Obi-Wan said when he'd
finished the bite of food in his mouth. "Besides you enjoy it a
lot more than I do."
Qui-Gon smiled at his lover and they exchanged a very personal
look, quick but intense. **There are a lot of things I enjoy
doing for you, Beloved...**
**Then there are the things you enjoy doing to me...**
Obi-Wan dared to send back, then added a quick apology. **I'm
good, I'm good!**
**Later...**
Maki' saw the reaction - dismay? embarrassment? longing? -
ripple through the countenance of the Padawan Artificer.
Hastily he said, "Tevis has agreed to help us with reformatting
the Oraclyne archive. He says he can make it searchable." He
sent quickly to the Oraclyne, **I told Tevis about the archive
and what the Oraclyne was, that we were working on the archive.
I did not tell him yet that you two were it.**
"That wonderful, Tevis," Qui-Gon responded, turning to the
other padawan. "You have no idea how frustrating it's been to
work with." **Thanks for the heads-up, Maki',** he added
privately to the Healer. **He's been avoiding looking at me in
particular.**
Tevis, to their delight, was actually filling his plate again.
"Considering the age of the archive," he murmured, not looking
at anyone, "I'm not surprised. But even a huge, rambling,
linear collection of material like that can be fitted with a
search engine that will allow you to select related topics
within it. I can then export the data into a more conventional
database system. It won't be perfect, but you should be able to
find things a lot more easily."
"That's great, Tev," Obi-Wan replied. "Thanks for the help."
The Artificer looked up at his friend finally. "You're
welcome." Then he glanced almost guiltily over at Qui-Gon
before returning his attention to his food again.
**Master,** Obi-Wan sent to his teacher, including Maki' in
the private mental communication, **Tevis had a panic attack
when I told him we were lovers.**
**You TOLD him?** Maki' returned, looking up to shoot a glare
over at the young Oraclys.
**Yes,** Obi-Wan shot back, frowning at the Healer's reaction.
**He was... he was coming on to me. I'd told him I was taken,
and he asked who...**
**Obi, Qui, I believe Tevis was abused, probably sexually, by
his master. Perhaps by others as well. Something has happened
to him to cause his extreme reaction toward any Jedi Masters.**
**The word 'taken', however appropriate,** Qui-Gon put in
hastily, **can unfortunately be taken another way...**
**So that's...** Obi-Wan was taken aback, shocked that his new
friend could have been subjected to such treatment by any Jedi,
much less his own master. **Oh, no...**
"STOP!" Tevis cried suddenly, and the three telepaths turned
to look at him. "Stop it..." He was in tears, only still in his
chair by an extreme effort.
13)
No one said anything for a long moment. Their body language
might have given away that they had been telepathically
communicating, but apparently Tevis had gotten more than visual
cues. Obi-Wan spoke first. "You're naturally telepathic... like
we are... aren't you?"
"My curse," Tevis muttered, shoving away from the table. He
got up and paced away a few steps. "And, oh, lucky me,
empathic, too. So everything..." He hugged his arms to himself,
head down. "... hurts worse."
Obi-Wan was at his side in a second, hand on his shoulder, the
two masters behind him rising to their feet as well. "I know
what you mean, Tev. We all do. I'm sorry we were
thinking back and forth. That was rude."
The other padawan just shrugged. Obi-Wan looked back at his
master and their friend. "We need to tell him."
Maki' shook his head, uncertain. He, like the Oraclyne, ached
seeing the young Artificer in such emotional pain. Would it
cause more to learn the truth behind Obi-Wan's connection to
his own master? "I... I don't know..." He glanced at Qui-Gon,
but the elder master was placidly clearing the food from the
table.
"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asked, purposely using his first name.
Tevis's head came up at that, and he looked over, wondering.
In a few moments, Qui-Gon came back out from the kitchen. "All
right," he said quietly, gesturing toward the seating area of
the large common room. "If Tevis is going to work on the
archive, he certainly has a right to know about the Oraclyne."
Although he would have rather sat with Obi-Wan, he sank into a
solitary chair, gesturing to the two padawans to take the sofa.
Maki' came over and took the remaining chair.
When they were all seated, Obi-Wan turned to his friend. "Tev,
the work on the Oraclyne archive is very important to Qui-Gon
and myself... because we... the two of us... are an Oraclyne.
We're the first and likely to be the only Jedi Oraclyne ever."
Tevis's glance flew to the Master Healer. "The Oraclyne! You
told me... a pair of Healers?" He looked back and forth between
Obi-Wan and Maki' a bit furtively. No one missed that he still
would not look at the senior Master.
"Yes," Maki' replied. "Matched in mind and spirit, bonded in a
way to form this new entity, the Oraclyne, an entity which will
have the capability to perform extraordinary healings."
"Matched... I... I don't understand..." Tevis shook his head,
bewildered by the mere concept of two Jedi coming together to
form... a new entity?
"Matched in power, capacity, sensitivity..." Obi-Wan murmured,
looking now to meet the gaze of his Oraclys. "And so much more.
Like we were made for one another."
"Indeed, brought together in the Force," Qui-Gon murmured
back, his gaze also locked on his young partner's. "Destined to
be the other's half, destined to share a single life force. We
will never be parted."
Tevis shuddered at the power of the Force in those words from
both of them. "Unbelievable," he said under his breath.
"Oh, believe it," Maki' sighed. "I've met the other two living
Oraclyne pairs. There's one on Zevdra and one on Bajrhen. They
have a physical presence to one another and a unity of mind
that is astonishing. Being that they are not Force-sensitive,
their powers match those of our best Healers. But our own
Oraclyne, Force-sensitive and highly telepathic and
empathic, will be unparalleled. Eventually they'll be working
for the Supreme Chancellor as his special Ambassadors for
Healing."
"Bonded..." Tevis breathed, then looked again at Obi-Wan who
returned the look patiently. "What do you mean... 'bonded'? You
have a training bond... what...?" He frowned, confused.
"Obi-Wan and I are physically imprinted on one another,"
Qui-Gon said quietly. "That means that we are constantly aware
of each other's physical presence, though we can turn our
attention away from that awareness with effort. It means our
life forces are joined so that if one of us is injured, the
other will automatically go into a healing mode to heal them...
and so that if one of us dies... the other will also. And it
means we will never seek to physically join with any other."
For the first time that day, Tevis Farolo gazed openly at the
tall, serene Master Healer-Diplomat. It took a few moments for
the words to even register. For the first time in his life, he
had an inkling that something in his years as an Artificer had
gone terribly wrong. Wrong not just for him, for the
too-telepathic, too-sensitive, brilliant Tevis Farolo, but
wrong for the Jedi of the Artificer Discipline who had raised
and trained him. Seriously wrong. The mantra in his mind
faltered for a moment.
Qui-Gon gazed back, meeting the young man's bemused look
steadily. He continued, his voice dropping even more softly.
"Tevis, although an accident initiated the imprinting, I
already loved my Obi-Wan deeply... although I'd wanted to wait
until his Knighting to tell him that." He smiled, glancing
briefly at his lover. "Not that I would have lasted that long,
mind you."
"I, of course, would have jumped him long before then myself,"
Obi-Wan chuckled.
Tevis shot a look over at Obi-Wan beside him. "You would
have..." He faltered, shaking his head, brow creasing in a
frown. What they were telling him was too fantastic, too
unbelievable. Imprinted? Bonded with one's master? Life
forces joining... but never to join with another..." He looked
away, his own terrible truth settling into his mind.
"We can show you," Qui-Gon murmured, exchanging a worried
glance with Obi-Wan hastily.
"Show me?" Tevis glanced over, but the Oraclyne was already
rising.
"May I borrow your lightsaber, Maki'?" Qui-Gon asked as
Obi-Wan went to get his. "I'm, ah, still working on mine."
"Oh, sure," Maki' replied, handing it over. "If you can..."
But Qui-Gon had already activated it, the blue-violet blade
humming and alive. He gave it a couple experimental swishes. "I
believe I can compensate for the differences in our
Force-signatures," he murmured, then switched it off and turned
back to look at Maki'. The last time this lightsaber had been
activated... had been against Qui-Gon himself.
Maki' looked back, sharing the memory. **Another time, another
you,** he said to the other master soberly.
**All too close to me, however,** Qui-Gon replied, his glance
sliding away.
"We just want to show you in a jemna how our bond has affected
our physical harmony," Obi-Wan said to Tevis, who slowly rose
from the couch.
"You don't have a lightsaber?" Tevis asked Qui-Gon in
bewilderment as they began to move outdoors.
Qui-Gon looked up and gave the padawan a little smile. "No,
mine got broken. And my new design is proving a bit beyond me
so far."
They came to the open field behind the cottage which they used
for their workouts. Maki' and Tevis stood to the side by the
little pond, the latter with arms crossed over his chest,
looking confused still. "What's this for?" he asked the Healer
in a low voice.
Maki' watched as Qui-Gon held up his lightsaber, activated it
and then paused to align himself with the unique
Force-signatures of the crystals in the 'saber. "Without the
Oraclyne connection between them, they only would have the
training bond to overcome the differences between them in age,
weight, height, experience... and the fact that Qui-Gon must
use a borrowed 'saber. Even with a strong training bond, this
is difficult. Their connection to each other as Oraclyne, this
physical imprinting that has happened between them, sweeps away
all obstacles. You'll see..."
Tevis glanced briefly at Maki' who had spoken softly, still
watching the others. Then the Padawan Artificer turned his
attention to the Oraclyne.
Eyes closed, Qui-Gon nodded his readiness and assumed the
position of the Storm Cloud jemna. It was the same exercise
that they'd attempted the last time this lightsaber had been
used... when Maki' had had to stop Qui-Gon from attacking his
padawan in his madness when Obi-Wan refused to fight him or do
the jemna with him. They'd have severely injured one another if
they'd tried this jemna then, as their bond had been nearly
completely shut down. Now...
Obi-Wan smoothly moved into position as well, igniting his
lightsaber. He, too, closed his eyes, centered in his Oraclys.
Then they began...
In moments the swift patterns of light and bodies revealed to
the two observers an uncommon harmony that sang purely of the
Force, a symphony so exquisite that the Master Healer in
particular had tears streaming down his face when it was done.
The two maneuvered, spun, flipped through the air, all within
inches of the other, moving in a seamless blend of body and
'saber. And to the watchers' wonder, the Oraclyne moved without
hesitation from the Storm Cloud directly into the Victory
jemna, a Diplomat-only exercise that was often performed for
dignitaries to celebrate the winning of peace on a world.
When it was done and lightsabers were extinguished, tears were
flowing down Obi-Wan's face as well, and he went into his
master's arms, still thrumming with the high of such shared,
spiritual resonance with the Force. Qui-Gon's eyes, too, were
moist, and when Maki' surged to join them, they hugged him as
well, reveling in their joyous communion.
Tevis, on the other hand, shied from the display. All he could
think about was that Artificers did not perform jemnas in pairs
at all, only singly. All they did with one another in the arena
was spar... compete. There was never this joining with another
in the Force.
Maki' left the lovers, abruptly aware that their Artificer
friend was subtly edging back toward the house. "Tev, wasn't
that wonderful?" he murmured, making as if to go with him. He
gestured, indicating that perhaps the lovers could be left
alone, bidding him accompany him back inside.
"I... I've never..." Tevis did not know what to say, feeling
strange and weak, totally at a loss for words. Suddenly he
looked at the Healer directly as they came to a pause in the
doorway. "Do... do you do those? I mean, with..."
"With a partner? Or a padawan?" Maki' smiled, relieved to see
the young man's interest. "While Healers do rather more jemnas
without lightsabers than with, unlike the Diplomats, we tend to
do far more with partners, in fact, even to performing in
groups up to six. We believe it enhances our communal sense of
the Force, which stimulates our Healing powers."
Tevis nodded, the strange look still in his eyes. He glanced
back briefly at the Oraclyne; Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were
oblivious to them, locked in an embrace, gazing into one
another's eyes. Tevis looked at the other master again,
sighing. "I should be moving back to the Temple, I guess, and
get started on that archive. And if you give me a couple
days... I... I could resume my training." Having managed to say
that much, Tevis gulped, ducked his head, and went inside.
Maki' stood for a moment longer, astounded. Tevis had, for all
intents and purposes, just asked him to be his master.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, breathing deeply, gazed deep into each
other's eyes at the conclusion of their jemnas, having gone
immediately into each other's arms. On some deep, inner level
the Oraclyne was in a state of communion, their minds blended
as rarely before. Their awareness of the others had indeed
dropped away.
**Oraclys...** The word echoed in their bond, the one word to
speak what each was to the other. They rested in perfect
harmony, content in being Oraclyne as never before.
And then, simultaneously, there was an abrupt jolt of Force
energy that sparked between them, effectively thrusting them
away from each other. They separated, eyes wide, hearts
suddenly pounding. Yet their minds were still linked, though
now a heat was building within their bond, a fire they would
not be able to resist responding to. Suddenly each looked upon
the other as, not their beloved mate, but as something to be
utterly possessed.
The Transition had begun.
**Maki', get Tevis away from here,** Qui-Gon sent quickly, his
gaze still locked on Obi-Wan's. The Master tried to use Jedi
disciplines to calm down, to manage some sort of control over
what was rapidly overtaking them, but he found the Force
elusive, just out of reach.
**What?** Maki' asked even as he was saying to Tevis, "I think
we'd better come back later. They haven't been lovers long, and
I imagine..." He faltered, as he realized the import of
Qui-Gon's words. And he could not help but sense the change in
the Force here.
"What?" Tevis asked, then turned and looked back toward the
door to the back. He, too, sensed the Force-change. "Master?"
Maki' spoke quickly, trying to keep calm himself. "Tev, this
is expected. It's a transition the Oraclyne is starting to go
through to move from Stage 1 to Stage 2 of their development.
We knew it would be today, but not exactly already. You must
leave."
Tevis gaped at Maki', for there had been a shudder of
Force-suggestion along with the words. An unmistakable request
- GO NOW, DON'T ASK. The padawan was a strong enough telepath
to resist the suggestion if he chose, but he found to his
wonder that he would choose to obey it. But he still knew a
spark of fear. "What's going to happen to them? Will Obi-Wan be
all right?" They continued on through the house to the front
door.
"Hopefully nothing more than some strenuous sex," Maki'
replied with a sigh, opening the door for the padawan. [He's
not very concerned about Qui-Gon, is he?] he noted ruefully.
"They'll be fine."
"Are you coming, too?" Tevis asked, frowning.
"I'm their Healer," Maki' explained. "I need to monitor them.
I'm also..." He rolled his eyes, sighing in an exaggerated
fashion. "Well, to make a long story short, I was unlucky
enough to hang around them too long and now I'm this emotional
buffer zone for them called an Oracine. So whatever..." He
waved his hand in their direction in exasperation. "I need to
be this buffer thing. It's all in that damn archive."
Tevis squinted at Maki', screwing up his face, convinced the
Healer was losing it. "Huh?"
"Never mind, just go... I think they're coming in," Maki'
replied, ushering him through the door. "I'll see you at the
Temple, Tevis." He gave the young man a quick buss on the cheek
before he could pull away from him. "Obi-Wan will be fine,
trust me."
The Artificer's eyes widened and he shuddered but... he went,
looking back at Maki' for a while before he turned and started
jogging toward his own cottage. For once. Trusting a Master.
This Master.
[I must be out of my mind,] Maki' thought, watching the
troubled young man go. [Can I be his Master? Can I get him to
tell me what the hell has been done to him his whole life as an
Artificer? Will he ever tell me what his master did to
him? And what in the ninety hells of the Sith did I kiss him
for?] He leaned back on the door, watching his apparently new
padawan disappear through the trees. [And now... them...]
"We must meditate, regain our centers," Qui-Gon was saying to
his own apprentice though they both looked at one another in a
feverish haze even as he backed toward the house, Obi-Wan
stalking him. Despite his words, belts and sashes were removed
hastily, tabards following, left to lay where they will.
"This isn't going to let us," Obi-Wan replied, rubbing sweaty
hands on his tunic, over his torso, his neck as the powerful
desire took hold of him. "I'm going to have you, Qui-Gon, with
or without the Force. I'm going to take you, own you, possess
the whole of you. And you're going to have me in the same way."
Owned... owning... both possibilities sounded equally
desirable. Oraclys and Oraclys must give into this last
powerful claiming by their connection, the claiming each of the
other, to seal them forever into their imprinting.
Qui-Gon, also sweating profusely, purposely did not touch
himself, though watching Obi-Wan run his hands over his body
was doing serious things to his resolve. For he was still
determined to avoid losing control, to remain Jedi above
all else. It was not enough that a higher control was promised.
The Jedi Master could not fathom yielding up what he was, what
he had been his whole life. The Oraclyne connection must
integrate with the Jedi in him, in his... padawan...
"I know what you want, what you want of me," Qui-Gon growled
back, stripping off tabard and his outermost tunic as they
backed into the common room of their cottage. "But I say we
must not, not like that. We have been Jedi first. We have been
Jedi our whole lives..."
"It must be stripped away," Obi-Wan interrupted, hastily
shedding tunics and pulling off his boots. "We build the
Oraclyne from our most elemental selves, not from the self that
we put on after we come to the Order..."
"It would supersede our Jedi selves," Qui-Gon countered, now
turning to actively confront his Oraclys. He stood straight and
tall, every inch the Jedi Master and Diplomat. "It's been
trying to do that all along, hasn't it? It sees our lives of
discipline as a threat to the order it would impose on us..."
Obi-Wan was getting the first inkling that this was not going
to be a smooth transition at all. His master's challenge to the
Oraclyne connection sounded suspiciously like his rejection of
it when he was mentally ill. "You don't want this, do you? It's
come back to that..."
Qui-Gon made a sharp gesture of denial. "Do not think I have
fallen back into a psychosis, Padawan! I've told you this
before - I will not sacrifice what we are." He put his hands on
his hips and stepped toward the shorter man, a challenging
posture. "Perhaps you don't think we'd be throwing much away,
only having lived as a Jedi for nearly eighteen years. I on the
other hand have a great deal more of life as a Jedi than you
and I will Not lose that."
The intended slight felt like a slap in the face. Obi-Wan
clenched his teeth and took a step back from the powerful
Force-pulse emitting from his master. [Why is he doing this? We
have to go through the transition!] "How do you know we will
lose it?" he snapped back. "Stage 2 is all about developing new
controls!"
The Jedi Master strode forward abruptly, still challenging,
until Obi-Wan thumped back into a wall. He looked down at his
trapped lover, his dark blue eyes flashing danger mingled yet
with desire. "In non-Force-sensitives, yes! We have no idea
what it will do to our Jedi mental self-disciplines."
[Oh, no...] Obi-Wan realized with a growing dread that there
was a possibility that Qui-Gon would resist the transition. He
swallowed hard and persisted, sliding his hands up the rigid
planes of muscles on his Oraclys's chest. "I feel your desire,
Qui... it burns you as surely as it does me. You want me..."
His voice dropped lower into more seductive tones. "You can
have me, all of me... any way you want, as much as you want..."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes against the siren momentarily. "Not...
like this. Not in the grip of something we cannot control."
"Take me..." Obi-Wan felt the heat swelling in him again, and
his fingertips grazed the other's nipples, enticing, hot.
"Possess me, my Oraclys..."
The Jedi Master sighed deeply, the sensations tickling at his
self-control. "Yes, as Oraclys I will..." he murmured, coming
to his own dread realization. [That is the problem... as his
master I cannot condone this extreme loss of discipline. I can
only do this as Oraclys.] There it was - the first time their
roles had clashed. Gone was the serene balance, the easy
shifting between Master-Padawan and the Oraclyne. Now they were
in direct conflict.
Qui-Gon looked down into the stormy, burning gaze of his young
lover. He felt the Force flowing strong and free within
himself, and it said clearly that this transition was not
right, that they had the power and should use the power to
wrest control away from this primal urge to commit mayhem upon
one another for the purpose of...
Of what? The archive only said that the transition between
Stage 1 and Stage 2 was the final step in their imprinting.
But... [We are imprinted,] Qui-Gon thought, realization
dawning on him. [It is done, we are already deeply bound up in
one another's physical selves. And no one has controls like two
Jedi... and even my Obi-Wan has control...]
Qui-Gon's eyes widened. That was the crux of it. They already
had control. They were already imprinted. The archive mentioned
that the transition would be "dramatic and traumatic". What was
more traumatic than the disharmony between the two Oraclys?
[This transition has no purpose!] he thought, abruptly clasping
Obi-Wan's wrists to stop him from touching him any more. [We
are Jedi and there IS no Stage 2 for us!]
"Master, please..." Obi-Wan begged, trying to rub his groin
against him sensually, but the longer arms held him away. "Qui,
please love me..." His eyes were nearly glazed over with lust,
and he writhed sinuously in the other's clasp.
The Jedi Master snapped his personal controls firmly into
place. Immediately the draw toward sexual union in himself
ebbed and was easily put aside. [It's an artificial draw,] he
realized with dismay. [We believed it would be so, so... it
was...] "Obi-Wan," he whispered in a low voice, purposely firm
and not sultry, "you must listen to me. We have been dreadfully
misled..."
14)
Outside the cottage, a bewildered Maki' Windsailor could not
stand it any longer. He felt the roiling emotions from within
as if they were within himself, and one thing had become
painfully apparent. The Oraclyne was in trouble. One Oraclys
wanted one thing, the other wanted another. Closing his eyes
tight, he made himself focus in to see what was what.
Obi-Wan, wild with lust for his beloved, powerfully aroused.
Qui-Gon, shocked by some new understanding of... what? But the
lust was abruptly absent in him as if the powerful Master had
slammed shut some internal door. Maki' reeled with the sudden
change and fought off dizziness.
Then he entered the cottage, not caring about the effect of
their transition on himself, or their reaction to his
interference. He had to see.
He found them outside the bedroom, Qui-Gon holding Obi-Wan's
wrists in his fists, holding the heavily breathing, undulating
young man away from him. As he approached, Qui-Gon's head
whipped around toward him. Maki' froze, fearful of their
reaction. But the other Master's expression was one of relief.
"Maki', he won't listen to me," Qui-Gon said quickly,
breathing a little hard himself. "We've been all wrong about
this. I feel it in the Force, I see it so clearly."
"No, no," Obi-Wan was moaning, trying to pull his hands free
now. "Must have you, you must take me..."
"The archive is dead wrong when it comes to us. The Jedi
Oraclyne," Qui-Gon tried to explain quickly, though it seemed
like they were on the verge of a wrestling match. "Test the
Force, Maki'. Oh, Obi-Wan, are you able to sense the Force?" He
returned back to regard of his passionate young lover, wincing
at the hungry ache on Obi-Wan's face.
Maki' withdrew a few steps, bowing his head as he complied,
letting his senses fill with the Force. In moments, through his
connection to the Oraclyne and his own substantial Force-sense,
he saw. And had to fight a sudden wave of horror at himself for
not seeing it sooner.
**We didn't know,** Qui-Gon sent when the other master reacted
by clapping a hand over his mouth in dismay. **We must stop
this. I may need your help. At the least, I need your
unequivocal support. This could damage us yet.**
[His controls...] Maki' was humbled. Qui-Gon Jinn had
effectively shut down in his own psyche whatever powerful
sexual pull had claimed them both.
No Oraclys had better control. No one could... but a Jedi.
Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan's wrists, but immediately took his
face in both his hands, focusing his padawan's attention.
"Obi-Wan, can you sense the Force? You must get a hold of
yourself, you must stop and center..."
With an abrupt surge of mental and physical power, Obi-Wan
wrenched free, glaring at him even though his eyes still burned
with hunger. "Force be damned! You know we have to do this, we
have to let the transition run its course! Why are you
resisting this? Have you gone mad again?"
Shocked, Maki' spoke first. Qui-Gon was just stunned into
silence. "Obi-Wan, it isn't like before!" the Master Healer
quickly countered, edging forward, but halting when the padawan
cast him a glare.
"And why are YOU interfering?" Obi-Wan snapped, backing slowly
from both of them, though every muscle in his body wanted to
launch himself at his Oraclys.
"You're the one not seeing clearly, Obi," Maki' replied,
trying not to panic, though his heart was pounding. How could
Qui-Gon be so calm? The other master had his eyes closed as if
meditating.
"Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan all but snarled at his master, and now
rushed forward and took him by the upper arms, shaking him.
"Don't DO this to me!"
The Master Healer-Diplomat was not as calm as he seemed.
Inside his calm exterior, he was realizing that he had few
options open to him... and the most obvious - to order his
padawan to obey him - was the least acceptable. Once he might
have resorted to that. But now it would irreparably damage both
their training and personal relationships. Another option would
be to overpower him... an equally noxious choice. The only
other thing he could think of...
[It might work. He needs to wake up from this...] He would not
call it a madness. One Oraclys having gone insane briefly in
both their lifetimes was more than enough. [I will do it.]
Qui-Gon turned and looked at Maki', a hint of desperation in
his eyes. **Do you trust me?**
The eyes of the Master Healer widened, but he nodded. **Do I
have a choice?**
**Please...**
**Then... yes.**
Qui-Gon turned back to his lover, who still clutched at his
arms, looking at him now with pain and confusion. "Do you trust
me, Obi-Wan? Can you trust me?"
The pain, now felt more deeply in the bond they shared, made
them both wince. "H...how can I?" Obi-Wan gasped, shaking his
head. "You're denying..."
"Oh, Obi," Qui-Gon sighed, now sounding tired, "you must trust
me. You must..." And with that, his eyes closed and his
powerful telepathic mind shut his consciousness down.
The collapse of the master's big body nearly brought Obi-Wan
down on top of him. He caught himself, gasping as the other end
of their bond was suddenly empty and silent. As Qui-Gon had
hoped, it was enough to shock the young Oraclys, who had sagged
to his knees.
[Uh-oh,] Maki' thought, then grimaced. [Thanks, Qui, leave me
the hard stuff...] But he knew Qui-Gon had no other choice.
Oraclys was not going to be able to convince Oraclys. But their
Oracine had a good chance... Immediately he sank to his knees
and helped a shaking Obi-Wan turn Qui-Gon onto his back. But
the Master Healer's eyes were on the young man the whole
time... waiting.
"W...what's happening?" Obi-Wan asked in confusion. As they'd
expected, his whole being was thrown out of the artificial
sexual draw and into Healing mode. But there was nothing to be
Healed! His Oraclys had left him, slipping into
unconsciousness. [How? How can he resist... how can... what's
wrong with him?]
Maki' decided subtlety wasn't going to help here. He snapped
his fingers in Obi-Wan's face, startling him. "He knew you
weren't able to listen to him," he began, and it was his turn
to fix a glare on the bemused young man. "But you will
listen to me."
Shaking his head again, Obi-Wan tried to awaken his master.
**Qui, love, why? The transition...**
Maki' caught the thought. **OBI-WAN!** he bellowed back in the
same way; Obi-Wan looked up sharply. **You MUST listen! There
is no transition! What you were feeling was false, a pull your
subconscious mind expected to feel... and then did. Qui-Gon saw
the truth and so must you.**
"F...false?" Obi-Wan gasped. "But... why? How?" He still
didn't believe the other. [Maybe Qui-Gon affected his mind...]
Shifting back to speech, Maki' clasped the other's shoulders
across the body of his master. "It's all about controls. You
can shut this off as he did. You have the control, Obi-Wan.
Though you're a padawan, you're an able telepath and this
control has already been beyond what any other Oraclys has had.
Qui-Gon read it in the Force. So do I."
"The... Force..." Obi-Wan could not feel the Force. His
emotions were too chaotic, his mind spinning. And Qui-Gon's
sudden loss of consciousness was still making him feel queasy,
the Need itching at him to aid his Oraclys.
"There is no Stage 2 for the Jedi Oraclyne," Maki' pressed on,
hoping he was getting through. He spoke firmly, not
persuasively as a Diplomat would, but nevertheless like a
Healer with a recalcitrant patient... which Obi-Wan most
certainly was right now.
"What??" the younger Jedi exclaimed, looking at the Healer as
if he, too, had gone mad. "The archive..."
"SCREW THE ARCHIVE!" Maki' threw back, exasperated. "Qui-Gon
is right, you're JEDI! You're Force-sensitive. The archive, I'm
now believing, should be tossed right out when it comes to you
two!" He gave the staring Oraclys a little shake. "All right?
Are you listening? No transition! No Stage 2! You already have
controls... now use them!" He gave him a last shake, then sat
back on his heels, his mind reeling a little bit from having to
buffer the wild mixture of emotions from the younger Oraclys.
[Damn, I've botched the whole thing badly... but Qui is
right... how in nine Sithhells could we have known?]
Obi-Wan gaped, his mouth literally hanging open as the words
began to sink in. Then he realized he had lost all sexual
desire, all of the urgent pull gone. Need still pulsed at him,
unable to let him forget his Oraclys was unconscious. "Oh,
Force..." he swore lightly, now understanding the enormity of
what had happened. He'd blocked the Force from himself, let
this thing take him over so much that he'd shut himself away
from... from... the Light...
He'd done that before. On Melida/Daan when he was thirteen
years old... when he'd left his master for a noble cause. Left
the Jedi. And Qui-Gon Jinn, heartsick, had had to return to
Coruscant without him. Obi-Wan, remembering that terrible
betrayal of his master back then, squeezed his eyes shut,
involuntarily letting out a moan at the powerful memory.
[Okay, did I just push him over the edge,] Maki' thought,
gulping. [Or... what?]
Qui-Gon Jinn took a deep breath and opened his eyes. As he'd
hoped, his consciousness had shifted to the higher plane of
consciousness that they called the "spirit land", the psychic
realm which Oraclynes used for meditation or Healing
activities. A forest glade, the sunlight slanting through the
trees. At least there was no black mountain he must break down
this time. As before, he was dressed in Jedi whites, sans robe.
Hearing a sound behind him, Qui-Gon whirled, and was not at
all surprised to see his companion, though he was fervently
hoping Obi-Wan would shortly be joining him here. "Xan," he
greeted the other man with a sigh. "Or perhaps I should not
call you that, as I know you aren't really Xanatos anymore..."
Xanatos had died two years ago at Qui-Gon's hand. He'd
repented of his evil as he died, though only here in the spirit
land had he been able to tell Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon of his
repentance. Now, having assisted the new Oraclyne, Xanatos was
finally one with the Force... but the Oraclyne connection, the
quasi-physical/psychic link between the two Oraclys, was still
very much with them, manifesting itself as someone in their
past who was dead.
The ice-blue eyes were filled with sorrow. Like Qui-Gon,
"Xanatos" wore tabard, tunics, sash, and pants of white, the
uniform ironically of a Jedi Contemplative. "I have failed you
again, I know," Xanatos murmured, then reached toward the Jedi
Master as if he wanted to touch him, but stopping short. "And,
no, your Xanatos is not here in the same way he was before.
Yet... I am here. I am always with you."
[And as beautiful as ever,] Qui-Gon noted sadly, though it no
longer gave him the same twinge to look upon the image of his
former apprentice, whom he'd once thought he'd loved. Yet he
looked supremely Xanatos: long, flowing black hair like fine
feathers around his face - sincere eyes of glacial blue - skin
like white milk... and there was no longer the broken circle
scar that he'd inflicted upon himself. "You are the connection
between Obi-Wan and myself," Qui-Gon replied, nearing. "You
were trying to drag us into the transition... which we did not
need, which would have damaged us..."
The ice eyes filled with crystal tears. "I did not know!"
Xanatos - it was easier to simply think of him as such, than
the incarnation of some metaphysical bond - reached and laid
strong, pale hands on the upper arms of the tall Oraclys. "Let
me try to explain?"
The Master nodded, allowing the touch, though he pointedly did
not reach back. Internally he wondered where Obi-Wan was.
Shouldn't he have gone into Healing mode, and thus be drawn
into the spirit land as well in order to bring back his
Oraclys? Qui-Gon had been counting on that. [And Maki' cannot
come here as himself... I must be alert, for he could try to
contact me through some other spirit.] But as yet, they were
alone in the glade.
Xanatos firmed his hold on Qui-Gon's arms as if the touch
galvanized his courage to explain what had gone so wrong. "All
along we have had this difficulty," he began, and a single tear
spilled its way down his pale cheek. "Always have Zevdrani and
Bajrheni been bound together as Oraclyne, each matched to the
other. You two have the matching, of course, but you are not
and have never been simply Zevdrani, or Obi-Wan ever been
simply Bajrheni. You both possess this window within your
minds, this access to the Force. Never has this happened; no
Oraclys has ever been Force-sensitive. And of course, no one
has ever had mental disciplines and powers such as you two
possess... mostly you, Qui-Gon." Another tear fell.
This time Qui-Gon reached and caught the shimmering drop. "I
understand only one thing about you," he murmured, looking at
the miniature reflection of himself in the captured teardrop.
Then he looked into the brimming eyes. "You will survive at any
cost. Because two beings share the same life force, the death
of one causes the death of the other... and Jedi such as we who
will not hide ourselves away on a planet may place ourselves in
danger of just that happening." The Master's indigo eyes
narrowed. "You would override our Jedi disciplines for the sake
of your own survival, our survival. You view our calling
and vocation as a threat."
The other swallowed convulsively, patting nervously at his
arms. "It... it's not like that, not really... not anymore."
"Oh?" Qui-Gon was startled. So his resistance actually caused
the Oraclyne connection to begin to adapt to the Jedi? He hoped
so. Still, he was wary. "So, you did see that side of us as a
threat."
"Yes..." A flicker of pain crossed the beautiful face, and
this time it was so like Xanatos that Qui-Gon did feel that
twinge a little. Now Xanatos - the connection - closed the
distance between them, sliding hands around the Oraclys's neck.
The long, black lashes closed as Xanatos laid his cheek against
the Jedi Master's shoulder. "I am learning to yield to
evolution. I understand what you are now... and I want to
integrate with it."
Qui-Gon got a quick mental image of what in this spirit realm
"integrate" actually meant. He sucked his breath in sharply,
feeling the tickle of desire return. Then, mostly because
Obi-Wan was not there yet, he slammed up his shields. He would
NOT allow himself to be seduced by this spirit Xanatos, not in
this context.
Xanatos reacted with a cry, jumping back as if burned. "Wait,
my Master, do you not wish me to be integrated into your Jedi
aspects? I admit now that I erred in attempting to bypass what
you are. But no longer... I must join with the Jedi in you,
must embrace fully your Force-lives."
"Yes, you must," Qui-Gon returned firmly, a hardness to his
voice that hadn't been there before. "But you will integrate
with both of us at the same time... or not at all."
Abashed, Xanatos fell to his knees. "Of course, that's what I
meant..."
The Jedi Master's eyes widened, then he was pulling the man up
into his arms. "Good," he murmured, wondering as he felt the
trembling in the apparition. "Then we will wait for him
together." [And where is Obi-Wan?]
Xanatos melted against him, but the brief flare of desire
between connection and Oraclys calmed. Qui-Gon sighed - [Why
did it HAVE to be Xanatos?] - and closed his eyes, centering,
pausing to seek his beloved.
But this was another plane of consciousness, and the bond did
not work the same way. He looked across the glade and saw a
formless, shimmering light, roughly man-shaped. **Obi-Wan?**
**Yes, but he cannot hear you,** Xanatos murmured softly to
him in his mind. **You will always sense him, of course. But
when in different realms of the mind, there is no other
contact. He is aware in the normal realm. He knows where you
are, he may even see you as you see him, as a gleaming form.**
Qui-Gon frowned. "The color..." he whispered aloud. "The form
seems to be yellows and some gray."
Xanatos lifted his face to the Jedi Master, his eyes
glistening. "Yellow... the color of fear. And gray of
uncertainty."
"Fear?" Qui-Gon was stunned. What was Obi-Wan afraid of? He
was sure Maki' had been able to make the young Oraclys see what
Qui-Gon could not. Obi-Wan could not trust Qui-Gon to tell him
the truth because he thought his master had gone mad again.
[Could not trust... could not...]
What was Obi-Wan Kenobi afraid of??
15)
Before Maki' could stop him, Obi-Wan had left the cottage,
breaking into a run. **Obi-Wan!** the Master Healer called
after him. **You must go to the spirit land, you must talk to
him!**
But the mental voice of the Jedi Padawan came back, filled
with dread. **I cannot, not yet. Oh, Force, I've betrayed him
yet again! How can I face him? How can I ever look him in the
eye again?** Then shields that not even a Jedi Master Healer
could break slammed into place.
Maki' noted that Obi-Wan was heading for Tevis's cottage.
[Shit. Tevis has no idea what is going on. I've got to get a
hold of Qui-Gon. Here we go again!] Gritting his teeth in
frustration, he slid into a meditative posture, settling
himself for trace.
A voice tugged at Obi-Wan, but he ignored it. He knew he
should not run, but he could not feel the Force, could not see
Light, and in his panic he simply ran. Soon he reached Tevis
Farolo's cottage where the other Jedi Padawan was packing to
return to the Temple.
"Obi-Wan!" Tevis exclaimed, startled as his friend stood at
the door when he opened it. Then he realized that the other was
shaking. Immediately Tevis put an arm around him and drew him
inside. "Obi, what happened?" An old rage began to surge within
him. "What... what did he do to you?"
Obi-Wan was taking deep breaths, already finding his
equilibrium again. He stared at Tevis, bewildered. "Do?
Nothing, that's the damn problem. Or, rather, it's what I
wanted him to do, what I wanted to do, which was all wrong. And
I've been too stupid, too horny to see it." He pushed past him,
shrugging off the arm, going into the kitchen for a glass of
water.
Tevis followed, the anger fading to confusion. "You're not
making sense, Obi," he murmured. He wanted to put a hand on the
other man's back again, but hesitated. "I don't understand..."
Obi-Wan gulped half a glass of water, then turned and clapped
a hand on the other padawan's shoulder. "Tev, I know. It's a
very long story. But the short of it is that I've hurt my
master deeply and right now... I don't think I can face him.
You see, once before, when I was much younger, I hurt him badly
then... and I swore I'd never do that again. And now I hurt him
anyway... say, do you have a speeder?"
"Er, yeah..." Tevis frowned. "Um, you hurt HIM? But..."
"Badly." Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly against the
remembered pain. "I just need a bit of space, then I'll talk to
him. And I will talk to him, I have to. Force, I love him so
much, but I really screwed this one up. Drive me to the
Temple?"
Tevis gulped and nodded. "Are you sure? Won't he be angry that
you left?"
"Angry?" Obi-Wan looked at his friend oddly. "He should be.
I'm being a coward, I know. But he won't be angry with me, just
sad. I can't help that. I just... I just need the space. I have
a lot to forgive myself for."
"You're strange, Obi-Wan," Tevis replied, sighing. "Well, I'm
moving back to the Temple anyway. Of course you can come
along."
"Thanks, Tev," Obi-Wan sighed, trying not to think about what
he was doing, and fighting the urge to give in to the Need
scrabbling at him incessantly, telling him he should go back to
Qui-Gon. [Not until I can face myself first,] he told himself
ruefully.
Qui-Gon and Xanatos turned together to face the new apparition
that appeared. "Lenia?" the former asked, stunned to see the
image of a young woman he loved briefly as a padawan... a woman
killed on a mission before turning Knight. [I should have
expected to see my own dead here, as Obi-Wan has,] he noted
with wry acceptance.
"Qui, yes... and no," murmured the lovely young woman with
long, streaming silver hair and large, compassionate brown
eyes. "He loves you so much, Qui..." She, too, wore Jedi
whites.
"Obi-Wan... yes, I know," Qui-Gon sighed. He still held
Xanatos close, his arm around the other man's waist. "Where is
he?"
Lenia looked long at Xanatos, then shifted her gaze to Qui-Gon
again. "He has returned to Melida/Daan. He runs. He has no
face."
[WHAT?] Qui-Gon was stunned. Then he remembered - this was the
spirit land, and words were not to be taken at face value
sometimes. [Maki', this is Maki' trying to tell me something,]
he guessed and hoped. [But what does this mean?]
"What do you mean, 'he has no face'?" Melida/Daan he could
guess, and the thought filled him with dismay. Obi-Wan was
consumed with guilt for not listening to him, not trusting him.
To him, it was another betrayal of his master. And the Force
was far from him, as it had been then. Obi-Wan was running,
possibly literally. But...?
The beautiful woman looked up at him sadly. "No eyes for you
to see, no face for you to look upon." Then she looked again at
Xanatos. "You did this?"
Xanatos clutched at the opening of Qui-Gon's outer tunic as if
he wanted to hide inside. "Yes. But that is changed. The Jedi
must take me, accept me, not the other way around. I will
submit to them both."
"It is well," she sighed, then glanced at Qui-Gon before
turning and walking away. Within a handful of steps she'd
disappeared.
"I must go for now," Qui-Gon murmured to Xanatos, and he
leaned in to brush his lips against the other's. "We will
return together... soon, I hope. Then you will integrate with
us."
"Oh, yes..." Xanatos sighed, returning the gesture. "Thank
you."
Maki' let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding
when Qui-Gon awoke. "You're back," he sighed deeply, running a
hand through his hair restlessly.
"Yes..." Qui-Gon sat up, then frowned, his senses
automatically reaching for his Oraclys. "Then it's true.
Obi-Wan has run from me. But why? He did not know about the
transition any more than I did. I do not blame him..."
"He blames himself," Maki' interrupted, helping the other
stand up.
"Melida/Daan," Qui-Gon added, passing a hand over his eyes in
dismay. "Oh, my Obi..."
"What's... Melida/Daan?" The Master Healer frowned at the
heaviness that had abruptly settled on the other master.
"A very old wound," Qui-Gon replied, sighing. "One that should
trouble neither of us anymore. But it was just five years
ago..."
[When Obi-Wan became his apprentice?] Maki' wondered, doing
the math. He was about to ask something when he saw a change
come over the other man's face. Qui-Gon was mentally
communicating with his lover...
**Obi, love?** Qui-Gon turned from the Healer, his eyes
unfocused, his being attenuated to his Oraclys. He knew where
he was, of course, even to feeling Obi-Wan's dejected sprawl in
the passenger seat of a landspeeder, driven by... Tevis?
**Obi...**
Miles away, Obi-Wan's brow creased in a disheartened frown.
He'd slid down in the seat, head back, eyes closed, trying his
best not to think about his predicament. Yet he'd known the
precise moment Qui-Gon had become conscious again.
**Master...** he replied tentatively. He did not fear his
Master's recrimination. He bore his own guilt, his own dismay
at his weakness.
**You do not have to leave... please come to me,** Qui-Gon
sent with an accompanying wave of love. **We were both
unprepared for what happened.**
Tevis, driving the 'speeder toward the distant Temple, looked
over at Obi-Wan every once in a while, casting furtive glances
of worry his way. He still fretted that Master Jinn had done
something to Obi-Wan, and found it most peculiar that his
friend insisted that it was he who had hurt the Master.
It seemed so strange that the solid, balanced, serene Obi-Wan
Kenobi could fall into the same self-depreciation that Tevis
knew that he himself fell into far too often. The fact that
Obi-Wan was not perfect after all did not give the Artificer
Padawan a thrill of satisfaction as he'd thought it would. He
realized he empathized with him, wanted to help him. [Obi-Wan
has that peculiar effect on me...]
**I know, yet I am ashamed, Master...** Obi-Wan winced at the
pure love directed at him in their bond.
**Qui-Gon. I am Qui-Gon to you...**
**Master,** Obi-Wan repeated firmly. **Please... I need a
little space. Tevis is moving back to the Temple. I'll just
help him get settled.**
**This is unnecessary, Beloved,** Qui-Gon persisted, aching.
As the physical distance between them increased, so also did
the Need seem to increase between them, both their hearts
hurting. **You should not ever fear facing me...** Then he
realized - Lenia! [That's what she meant by 'no face' - Obi-Wan
doesn't want to face me!]
**We'll be fine,** Obi-Wan insisted, hoping it was true.
**Since, ah, we don't have to wait for the...** He could not
say it - the transition that never happened and never would
now. **When you come to the Temple, I will be here... and I
will see you then. Please...** Despite his resolve, he felt the
ache within just as acutely. [I Need... oh, Force, he hurts and
I Need to ease it... but I cannot, I cannot yet...]
Qui-Gon shut his eyes tightly, trying with difficulty to
manage his inner pain. He could hear the pleading in his
lover's mind, the dismay the young man felt in himself. But it
was so needless! **You did not betray me, Padawan-love. You
cannot betray me...**
Obi-Wan flinched. [Oh, yes, I did...] **Please...**
The elder Oraclys could not argue further, lest he cause his
lover more pain in his insistence. Ruthlessly he applied his
considerable controls, releasing the pain to the Force and
telling the Need to subside. When he was calmer, he sent a last
thought: **Be well, my Beloved. Release your fear into the
Force, apply the controls you know you have, just as I must. I
will see you soon.**
Obi-Wan almost sobbed his relief. **Thank you, Qui, I will.
Soon...**
Together, the Oraclyne carefully closed off part of their
bond, dampening the pain to a bearable level. Need... ebbed
way, leaving a dull ache.
Qui-Gon opened his eyes to look into the anxious, ice-blue
eyes of the Master Healer. He was clutching the other man's
forearms; Maki' clutched him in the same way. "Maki'..."
Maki' looked intently into the dark blue gaze of the other
master. "I heard. I couldn't help but hear. Are you all right?"
The Oraclys took a deep breath. "Yes. Fortunately, now that
the threat of the transition is passed, I find my controls to
be stronger than ever. I have... set the pain aside." He gave
the other's arms a final squeeze, then released him, turning
away.
The Healer felt his own Oracine empathy twitch in response,
soberly noting that the Oraclyne Need that Qui-Gon had had to
set aside would be ten times stronger than the Healer's
empathic reflex he himself felt. [Awesome indeed the control to
dampen that... but if he must...] "Is Obi-Wan all right? I
mean..."
"He needs to come to terms with what has happened," Qui-Gon
replied, feeling old and weary. "I must respect that. So... we
are done here. I suppose I will have to pack up. We're to move
to the Temple now. Stage Three is all about our powers growing,
and that seems to be the best environment for that." He sighed,
picking up his unfinished lightsaber from a nearby shelf.
Maki' noted how deftly the Master Healer-Diplomat changed
subjects. "Tevis... well, he did not exactly come right out and
ask me, but he has accepted me as Master. He told me to give
him a couple days then he would be ready to resume his
training."
"Oh, that's good," Qui-Gon murmured, still gazing at the
'saber in his hands. "You are right, the boy is troubled. But I
know you will be good for him."
Now the Master Healer did not know what to say. Though Qui-Gon
was marginally relaxed, he was maintaining control over the
inner pain of Obi-Wan's departure that threatened to surge back
up. Maki' made a mental note to himself to talk to T'kennu
about the Oraclyne's return to the Temple, and perhaps to give
Gali Hyr a call as well. He had a feeling that they were on the
cusp of events that would shake up the entire Order...
Maki' laid his hand sympathetically on Qui-Gon's forearm. "It
will be well. Call me when you're ready to return to the
Temple. I'll go with you then."
Qui-Gon nodded tersely. "Thanks, Maki'." But all the Oraclyne
controls he possessed could not shut out the memory of his
beloved begging him to give him time apart... a mental voice
filled with the pain of needless guilt.
===========
16)
On Coruscant, in the main Jedi Temple, Master Gallidys Hyr
stepped from the shower to the stall of hot air jets in his
temporary quarter's refresher unit. In moments, the short down
on his lavender-tinged gray skin was dry and fluffy. He spread
his feathered head crest and wings to finish drying when he
barely heard the chirp of his data terminal. Keeping the crest
extended to at least air-dry, he folded his wings against his
back and pulled his dark blue Healer's robe around him.
Sighing, the avian Jedi sat down to answer the call.
A face he did not recognize appeared on the viewscreen. Human,
male, long silver-brown hair, piercing dark brown eyes. Thin
face, almost gaunt by Human standards. "Master Hyr? Gabryel
Enzi. Plo Koon asked me to call you."
That woke the Pythrrvan up a little more. "Enzi? From Plo?" He
noted the man's Jedi garb: white tunics, dark green robe.
[Interesting...] "What does a Master Contemplative want with
this old, decrepit Master Healer?"
"It's not only what I want," Master Gabryel Enzi replied with
a quick grin, a fierce spark in his eye, "but what certain
others in the Order want... And I can name names. Padawan
Contemplative Larien Cennex... my own padawan, Gallidys. Knight
Healer Sephiria Vis... know her?"
"Ah, yes, she was Knighted about eight years ago..."
"And her padawan, Senior Padawan Healer Lizreven Dorazh. Also
someone with whom you are acquainted - Senior Padawan Artificer
Tevis Farolo."
Gali leaned forward, fully awake and attentive. "Yes, I did
meet him! What's this about, Enzi?"
But the Master Contemplative wasn't finished with his list,
apparently. "Master Diplomat Qui-Gon Jinn and Senior Padawan
Diplomat Obi-Wan Kenobi..."
"Hey, how did you learn about them... what's this all about?"
"And last on my short list, but not least, Knight Diplomat
Peto Vagarr. And these are only the Jedi I know about."
Gali's head crest flared more in momentary anger than in any
further need for drying. "WHAT about them? No wonder they say
Contemplatives are so cryptic!"
But Enzi just laughed. "Cross-discipline training, my dear
Healer. In the past year, all of these have applied to the
Council for cross-disciplinary study. And all were refused.
Including your pair of Diplomats, or should I say,
'Healer-Diplomats'? They've already started training on
Dantooine, haven't they?"
"Koon has informed you well, Enzi," Gali replied warily. "And
I can see that you have a plan, don't you?"
Master Enzi sobered somewhat. "And I'm afraid it doesn't
include sitting on the doorstep waiting for a brief moment when
the Council becomes receptive to loosening the screws on each
Discipline. Sorry, Hyr, I know from what Plo has told me how
persistent you have been with them. And yes... I do have a
plan."
[I don't know him, never met him,] Gali thought to himself,
wondering. [But I know already that Qui-Gon Jinn now has
competition for Biggest Thorn in the Council's Side...] "And
that plan would be?"
Enzi took a deep breath, as if gathering himself for the bomb
he was about to drop. "Simple and elegant, and not based on
Coruscant. A Haven, Hyr. A center for cross-disciplinary
training for those with the aptitude for more than one
discipline. Or those who merely wish it. Think of it! I am
fifty-two years old and contemplating the intricacies of the
Force has been my life-long passion. But I crave more... and
have been gifted four years ago with Larrien as my second
Padawan. My Larrien is devoted to his Contemplative studies,
but he wishes to join me... in training as a Healer."
The feathered headcrest of the avian Master Healer bobbed in
interest. "Indeed? Why Healer training?"
The dark brown eyes bore a glint of mischief. "I am an Adept
of Riacle Simplex... heard of it?"
"Let me guess... you're Riaclini?" Gali smiled as he guessed.
The short, lively Master nodded, giving him a quick grin. "I
was fortunate, in between padawans, to return to my home planet
and train in the Simplex methodology."
Gali was intrigued. "So, you heal with herbs and crystals, is
that it?" There was a skeptical note to his voice; he'd heard
of Riacle Simplex, but had never seen it used or met an Adept
before in his long life.
"Something like that," Enzi grinned, chuckling. "Anyway, I
long to learn traditional Healer methods to integrate the two.
Larrien, the dear boy, is a veritable sponge and eager to study
this with me."
The Healer looked long at his colleague from the Contemplative
Discipline, reading more into the man's words. [I'll wager that
Larrien is not yet of age, but that there are feelings
simmering between Master and Padawan already... Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan would like them, I think.] "So, a haven for
cross-disciplinary training? A good idea, if you can get
approval for it."
Master Enzi shrugged. "Or without. There will be support. I'm
not waiting for the Council. There is a need to be filled. I
intend to found the Jedi Cross-Disciplinary Haven anyway."
Gali snorted. "And I'll bet you've never even met Master
Diplomat Qui-Gon Jinn..."
"Who? Doesn't matter." Gabryel Enzi waved his hand airily,
teasing. "Besides, your T'kennu is interested. I think we can
do it on Dantooine."
[Figures he'd have talked to T'kennu,] Gali thought, sighing.
"Then my work here is done... if you intend to side-step the
Council. I have been the advocate for... for a few like
yourself, and it seems I will no longer be needed..."
"Nonsense!" Enzi crowed, clapping his hands together
gleefully. "That's actually why I've come to you! I'm no
Diplomat... and you have more Diplomat skills than I..."
"And that's nonsense," Gali retorted good-naturedly. He
couldn't help but like Enzi; the man definitely had charisma.
"But you know the Council. I do not, not really. We will need
to wear them down eventually. Moreover... I would also like you
to administer or at least coordinate the Haven."
The head crest expanded to its full, formidable spread.
"WHAT?"
Enzi laughed. "T'kennu's idea," he replied quickly. "Your
leader seems to think you have it in you. You see, don't you? A
Jedi isn't just a Contemplative or just a Healer. There can and
should be specializations, certainly, but not to the rigid
extent it's become in the Disciplines. The barriers between
them must come down. The Force demands it."
Gali had no doubt of that. Just the single look at the
miserable face of Padawan Artificer Tevis Farolo on Dantooine
had told him that. And the promise of the Oraclyne, so
potent... but doomed, perhaps, to heal the Republic while the
Jedi Order festered from within...
"You're right," he sighed. "And I'll do it. The Force has been
speaking to me as well, Enzi. Are you going to tell the Council
at all?"
The Master Contemplative looked at him earnestly. "You know
the Council. Should we? Who, besides Koon, are our allies?"
"Yoda, for one. Although he has possibly not thought of this
happening or even of the need. I don't know what Plo has told
him of our discussions." Gali sighed. "I'm sure he would
support us... but first, we have to talk to Qui-Gon Jinn."
"If you say so," Enzi murmured. "I only know he and his
apprentice are on Dantooine to study Healing."
Gali nodded. "Yes, but there's more. You're going to want to
have him solidly on your side in this project. Not only is he
the best in the Diplomat Discipline, he has a lot of influence
in the Order as well... and until you, perhaps, the biggest
thorn in the side of the Council. He could be another you, in
fact..." Gali chuckled, picturing the large Human. "Well,
except physically..."
Gabryel chuckled as well. "Let me guess, he's not short. I
don't mind; I like to think I'm larger than life in other ways.
Very well, I'll contact him on Dantooine."
Gali remembered that Maki' had told him the Oraclyne was going
through some sort of transition. "Ah, let me call out there
first; I need to check on a few things, including him.
Meanwhile... I think we should go talk to Yoda. Meet you
there?"
"I'm on my way! Enzi, out."
Yoda was in a mood, Gali noted immediately upon entering the
Council antechamber where the tiny ancient had agreed to meet
with himself and Master Enzi. Yoda had huffed and snorted until
they were all settled in seats, and then he peered narrowly at
his fellow Contemplative. "Hmmm," he ventured, studying the
Human, "know Qui-Gon, do you?"
Gabryel was, as usual for him, relaxed, even before the eldest
of their Order. "By name only, Master Yoda. His reputation, of
course, is well-known even to Contemplatives."
"My Padawan, he was," Yoda murmured, still measuring the
other. "One of our highest telepaths he is, behind only Masters
T'kennu and Poof. High empath, as well. Attuned to the Living
Force, he is, more than any of us. His own padawan, Obi-Wan
Kenobi, powerful as well he is. Together, a formidable force
for Healing and good they shall be." He leaned forward,
widening his eyes slightly. "Help them, Enzi, you must!"
"That's what we're here to talk to you about," Gabryel
explained, though he was puzzled as to why Yoda's concerns
centered on Jinn. "Well, others like them, that is..."
"No others like them there are." Yoda's voice had a firm note
of finality to it.
Surprised, Gabryel sat back. "I mean only that there are
others who wish to cross-train as well, Master Yoda."
Yoda glanced at the Pytthrvan. "Know about the Oraclyne, he
does not?"
Gali looked over at the Human, who was gaping at him in
confusion. "Er, no, we hadn't gotten that far..."
The little ancient waved his stick, turning back to Gabryel.
"Back to that in a moment... about the Oraclyne you will learn
another time. Now, about cross-training - speak to me on that
subject you will."
Nodding, Gabryel began, explaining as he had to Gali about
those who had submitted petitions to the Council over the past
year. He was just about to get to the part about the Haven,
when Yoda stopped him with the stick in mid-gesture.
"The Artificer Discipline," Yoda interrupted abruptly. "Know
much about it, you do? Or do not?"
"Er... actually very little," Gabryel admitted, wondering at
the sudden change of subject. "What do they have to do with..."
"Everything!" Yoda broke in vehemently. "Seek to know in the
Force, you should, Master Gabryel. Contemplative you are...
sensitive to the Force's currents you are. Speak to Master
Qui-Gon Jinn you should also. Larger than the need for
cross-training is the true problem at hand. Get to the root of
that you must!"
Gabryel was flabbergasted to be so diverted, but then Yoda,
having been a Diplomat, would naturally have been an expert at
that. And he sensed... yes, now that he thought of it, there
were disturbing little murmurs in the Force that he hadn't as
yet been able to decipher. If there was a problem with the
Artificers... that could explain a lot.
"There is a Padawan Artificer on Dantooine," Gali spoke up
quietly, "with whom I think we can start."
"I've always wanted to visit Dantooine," Gabryel returned,
grinning.
Yoda nodded thoughtfully. He'd been wondering for some years
when Master Gabryel Enzi was going to start turning the Order
upside down... like his own Padawan was...
Obi-Wan had been careful... and it was now so easy to shut off
that intense physical awareness of his Oraclys. The threat of
transition removed, the Padawan Healer-Diplomat found his
controls exactly as he needed them to be... and he needed them
now, needed to give himself space from the acute awareness of
Qui-Gon's every movement, location.
For reasons unknown to the two young Senior Padawans, Master
T'kennu had directed them to choose master-apprentice suites in
an unused wing of the Healers' Temple, a recent addition. Had
the Healers anticipated growth of the Discipline? No matter,
Obi-Wan and Tevis each chose one suite for themselves and their
masters. The Artificer had more or less merely tossed his
things inside when he interrupted his friend's musing. "I want
to spar, Obi. You up for a challenge?"
"Oh, yeah," Obi-Wan sighed as he realized it was exactly what
he needed. Not that his connection with the Force had improved
all that much, but perhaps it was no worse than Tevis's... and
he had energy to spare. Sexual energy, too, for that matter,
but he needed his Oraclys for that. Not that Tevis wouldn't
have been willing... Obi-Wan was sure he would have been.
But... that just wasn't possible, thanks to the Oraclyne
imprinting.
The two young men arrived at the small arena at the end of the
new wing of the Temple dressed in their usual practice tunics
and leggings of Diplomat beige and Artificer pale
golden-yellow. When Tevis struck an attack stance, Obi-Wan
twirled his lightsaber casually, regarding his opponent with a
frown. "No warmup exercise?"
Tevis was already settling into something of a battle mode,
his eyes narrowed at the other. "Do you get a warm up in a real
fight, Diplomat?"
"True," Obi-Wan admitted... then launched his attack abruptly.
In seconds, he had the Artificer scrambling. Obi-Wan exhibited
a finesse, skill, and speed that Tevis was unused to. So much
for Artificer superiority. But Tevis was a natural fighter as
Obi-Wan was, and soon recovered, pushing himself to match the
other man, to return an attack rather than merely defend.
Even with an incomplete connection to the Force, the Diplomat
was awesome, flying and spinning with grace and swiftness. Then
abruptly he stopped, stepping away from his opponent, switching
off his lightsaber. "This is premature, Tev," Obi-Wan murmured.
"I'll adjust..." Tevis was about to hotly argue when the other
shook his head.
"How many Artificers get into fights anyway? Outside of the
arena? True, we don't commonly ever meet opponents with
lightsabers, but it remains that members of your Discipline
don't often go where you're not wanted... or are targeted for
attacks. Diplomats interface with more non-Jedi, more
non-Force-sensitives than all the other Disciplines put
together."
Tevis regarded him with a glare. "So you're saying the rest of
us are weaklings, untrained in Jedi martial arts?"
Obi-Wan, as usual, did not rise to the other's ire. "Of course
not. But our training could be just more extensive. I'd be
happy to teach you to fight like a Diplomat, Tev."
"I'll just bet you would," Tevis retorted, though he was
secretly pleased that Obi-Wan would want to teach him. For all
that he argued with the other padawan and challenged him, he
did like him.
"Let's just go through a couple jemnas right now, shall we?"
Obi-Wan was saying. As usual he ignored the retort. "Do you
know the Winged Dyasmid jemna?"
Tevis blinked, taken aback. "No. Ah, do you know the Knife of
Ten Blades jemna?"
Obi-Wan managed not to laugh. "No. How about the Soveri
Mountain jemna?"
It went on a few more exchanges. The two young men stared at
each other in disbelief. "Maybe we just know them by different
names?" Tevis offered, shrugging. Something he'd heard once
tickled at his memory, just out of reach. His master, sharing
his opinion of the jemnas used by other Disciplines. What was
that he'd said?
"I'll start one," Obi-Wan was saying, bouncing on the balls of
his feet a little to unkink from the aborted sparring. "This
will be what we Diplomats call the Winged Dyasmid."
As the other padawan backed away to give him room, Obi-Wan
settled himself into the opening position of the jemna. Closing
his eyes, he paused for a moment to check his controls. He knew
exactly where his Oraclys was, of course; even with his
strengthened controls he could not completely shed that
awareness. There was nothing else - the bond was still and
silent, emotions locked away. Then, for just a second there was
the faint echo of an intense pain leaking through his master's
shields, as if the curious touch of Obi-Wan's mind to their
bond had momentarily caused Qui-Gon's own control to waver.
Obi-Wan frowned as he hastily adjusted his controls to
compensate, and turned his thoughts hard away from the
realization that he was causing his beloved pain.
He could not think about that. And when the guilt surged back
up, he killed it, throwing his consciousness into the calm of
the Force. The crease on his forehead smoothed out and his
heart slowed.
Tevis, watching the other's preparation, knew a twinge of
hunger within him that caught him by surprise... not for
Obi-Wan, though he did find his new friend delectable indeed.
It was a hunger for a mental discipline that the Artificers had
eschewed in lieu of their technological advancements. To the
Artificer, intense concentration on a detailed task was a high
mental art. [What is he DOING?] Tevis wondered, seeing the
frown and the subsequent relaxing of Obi-Wan's entire being.
Then the jemna began. Tevis did not know what a dyasmid was,
but within five minutes could begin to guess, to his amazement.
The fluid movements of the other man's body, the fluttering of
limbs, the twisting of his head all described the actions of a
small, winged insect. It was the most peculiar jemna Tevis had
ever seen, and one of the most beautiful. But more than
anything else, it displayed a control over one's body that was
purely awesome.
Artificer jemnas, Tevis realized, tended to involve inanimate
objects. He himself could already perform a System jemna in
which he mentally manipulated six spheres of differing sizes
around his body as he himself turned and spun like a star at
the core of a planetary system. The trick of course was to
avoid getting dizzy, maintain balance, and keep the "planets"
in their orbits. A Master Artificer could manage up to sixteen
planets, he'd been told... not that his own Master had ever. Or
the Knife of Ten Blades in which one's body acted as the
"knife", moving abruptly and slashing out, assisted by ten real
steel blades, each of which was virtually an extension of each
finger.
And never a jemna performed with another...
A good fifteen minutes later, Obi-Wan settled into his closing
position, his eyes still shut. He'd lost awareness of the other
some time ago, and breathed deeply, pulling himself back to the
environment around him. He sensed Tevis behind him, sensed the
other man's sharp attention even after that much time. Obi-Wan
took two more long belly breaths before he straightened and
turned. "And that was the Winged Dyasmid," he murmured, the
corner of his mouth quirking up.
"Rather long, wasn't it?" Tevis snapped, unwilling to admit
how stunned he was.
Obi-Wan chuckled. "Actually, no. There are far longer ones. I
believe the Dance of Five Hundred Goddesses takes two hours."
"The what?" Tevis laughed sharply. "That's absurd! Why so
long?"
"Discipline," Obi-Wan replied, shrugging. "That's a Masters'
jemna, anyway. I've only seen Master Qui-Gon perform that once.
But then I've also seen him hiding from an enemy in plain sight
for hours, keeping perfectly still in a pile of bodies as if he
were a corpse... and that's while he was managing my own
stillness at the same time."
"How did you breathe?!" Tevis asked, shocked.
"The Force," Obi-Wan sighed. "Since the movement of our
ribcages would have given us away, we used the Force to push
air in and out instead of using our muscles. And when they
checked us for a pulse..." He trailed off. It was a bad time
and a bad memory. Obi-Wan had been sixteen and had had to yield
his body and life completely to his master to manage the
illusion that they were dead.
"No," Tevis breathed, unable to accept such a drastic
solution. "Your master didn't..."
Obi-Wan nodded, looking up into the other padawan's eyes. "He
did. He stopped my heart when the pirates checked my body for a
pulse. I do not know how he was able to suppress his own pulse,
but he did. He even altered the temperature of our skin."
"You trusted him to kill you and bring you back?" Tevis felt a
bit dizzy. Why hadn't they fought? Had there been that many
pirates? He wasn't sure he wanted to know, wanting to pretend
he hadn't heard Obi-Wan say such things.
"He did not... oh, Tevis, it wasn't like that!" Obi-Wan said
in exasperation. "Forget it - are you going to show me one of
your jemnas? And do you mind if I follow?"
"What?" Tevis was still shook by his friend's story. "Oh,
yeah... sure, if you really want to." He looked puzzled at the
other, then settled into an opening position, igniting his
lightsaber which he held straight out from his body in one hand
to the side as if it was to become an extension of his arm.
"This is a pretty basic one, the Arm of Force-Light. As good a
place to start as any..."
==============
17)
Obi-Wan measured out a safe distance between them, then copied
his position. Again he closed his eyes, letting his mind fill
with the Force in the room. Strangely he found he'd been having
no trouble communing with the Force for the purpose of the
jemnas.
His master would disagree. Obi-Wan's emotions were shunted
away, and a corner of his mind where the Need had been locked
up was dark, absent of Light. It had to be so until Obi-Wan
could look Qui-Gon in the eyes.
Tevis began the jemna, Obi-Wan mirroring him only a scant
second behind. The amber-bladed lightsaber flashed around as he
twisted and shifted, an extension of his right forearm. It was
rather more strenuous than the Winged Dyasmid, and over in
three minutes. Breathing a little hard, Tevis turned to his
friend, deactivating his 'saber.
"I know," he said before Obi-Wan could speak, "it's a lot
different from what you did. Well, I guess the Artificers
are different..." Tevis did not look at him, unwilling
to see the disappointment or at least the disdain in the other
man's eyes. Clearly the Artificers did not place a high value
on the art of the jemna as Diplomats did.
"Not that different," Obi-Wan was quick to reply, replacing
his own 'saber on his belt as he came over to his friend. "We
are all Jedi. And we cannot forget that." He laid a hand on
Tevis's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Tev, I'm really looking
forward to studying and training with you. I'm sure Master
Maki' will want us to."
Tevis felt a rush of gratitude flood his heart at Obi-Wan's
statement. "You are? What about your Master?" For a quick
moment his litany picked up - [obeythemastersobeythemasters] -
but then it felt silent as Tevis pictured his new master. [I
hope he is different... I think he is...]
"My master welcomes the chance for me to make friends closer
to my own age," Obi-Wan replied soberly. "As do I... our
relationship has gotten very... intense... of late." He changed
the subject hastily. "Master Qui-Gon and I have already begun
our study of the Healing sciences and arts. I imagine he'll
study along with us."
When the other flinched at the words, Obi-Wan squeezed his
shoulder again. "Tev... damn it, someday I'm going to get you
to talk about why you fear Masters... but meanwhile, you must
trust me on this. My master, Qui-Gon Jinn, is a good, caring
man, deeply compassionate. They say that no one in the Order is
closer to the Living Force than he is." Another twinge surged,
then was suppressed. "He truly loves me... and I love him.
There is no reason for you to ever fear him!"
Pain shuddered through the thin face of the other. "How can
you love a... a... Master? They control you, manipulate you..."
He wanted to say more, but could not, the words frozen inside
him somewhere. "I don't want to talk about this, Obi." Then he
surprised both of them by pulling Obi-Wan against him, his arms
around the other man's waist. "Only tell me this, Obi," Tevis
added, his voice dropping into softness.
Obi-Wan, holding still within his friend's abrupt embrace,
listened patiently. "Yes?" Within he felt the minute stir of
Need, responding to the other's tension.
"If... if... anything bad ever happens..." Tevis tore his eyes
away even as he tightened his arms around him.
"Nothing is going to happen to me!" Obi-Wan laughed. "Tev,
this is nonsense..."
But the other padawan was adamant. "No, I mean to me... if...
if it happens..."
Obi-Wan was suddenly horrified and broke in again, unable to
listen to what his troubled friend was trying to say. "Nothing
is going to happen to you! Force, Tev, do you understand where
you are? This place is full of Light! We're among Healers, Tev!
No one, not Maki', not Qui-Gon, not anyone here, is going to
hurt you!" He ended with giving the other's shoulders a little
shake.
"You're so fucking naive," Tev spat at him, scowling. Yet he
made no move to release him, as if Obi-Wan's body was an anchor
to which he was unconsciously clinging. "Did you hear yourself
tell what your master did to you? He stopped your heart!" He
said the last with a hard, internal tremor that made his voice
shake.
"What, he should have let the pirates take me? They sell to
slavers, or keep captives for their own use, Tev," Obi-Wan said
calmly. Instinctively he held the other closer, his hands
slipping around his neck. "Personally, I'd choose momentary
death over rape. Or for that matter, death itself."
The casual words set off the other as if an electric shock had
run through him. Tev shoved Obi-Wan away from him hard, staring
at him intently. But he had no words.
Now the Need was vibrating actively, and Obi-Wan found he had
no will to ignore it, not now with pain written in every muscle
on Tevis's face. Then he knew: [Tevis has been raped. Oh,
Force, no, his master did it... of course...] Holding the
other's gaze, he held out his arms to him. "Come back here,
Tev... you need this..."
A sharper pain went through the pale countenance, but he stood
frozen, unable to answer, unable to move.
Need flowed, automatically responding to the presence of pain.
Obi-Wan could not hold back from responding to it, his Oraclys
empathy surging to the fore. He closed the distance between
them in a few steps and folded his arms around the trembling
man. **Oh, Tev,** he murmured with a feather touch to the
other's mind. **Please, let me... give me your pain...**
Tevis gasped at the telepathic contact, but his arms woodenly
went around the Oraclys anyway. **Obi?** he tried to think
back, then realized that somehow Obi-Wan had opened something
of a mental channel between them. **You don't understand...**
**Tell me, let me,** the Oraclys soothed, the mental embrace
soft as a mother's touch. **It's safe here, you're safe. Always
safe with me...**
**But...** Tevis only trembled all the more, feeling ice along
his spine. **I need the pain, Obi. It's all I know...
D-don't...**
Obi-Wan let the pain fill the new well that had developed
inside him since his Imprinting to Qui-Gon, though he did not
sever Tevis's link to it. **See? I can hold it for you, ease it
for you. Just let go of it. You'll feel so much better... I'll
spar with you again, Tev...**
Tevis shook, though whether it was from his emotional anguish
or from awe of the massive power in his friend he did not know.
**Teach me to spar, you mean, Dip.** He took refuge in teasing,
anything to hide from the pain.
**Just give it to me, Tev,** Obi-Wan persisted, his eyes
closed, a hand stroking the unruly, dark hair. **It's so
easy...**
Then it was done; Tevis let go like opening his hand to drop
something held tightly. The pain vanished and he felt a
soothing numbness settle into its place. Relieved, he blew out
his breath slowly. "How... how did you do that?"
**Shhhh...** Obi-Wan needed a moment to release the pain into
the Force, get his own equilibrium back. Dimly he was aware
that Qui-Gon was sharply alert to what he was doing, and why.
The bond ached with the Need for the two halves of the Oraclyne
to become whole again... but Obi-Wan could not succumb to it
yet. Qui-Gon was all but calling out to him, keeping his
promise to allow his beloved Oraclys the space and time he
needed.
Carefully, Obi-Wan set aside his awareness of the other half
of his being.
Gradually, Tevis relaxed against him as the healing touch of
the Oraclys settled into his mind. "Obi... you know Master
Windsailor, right?"
Obi-Wan already knew where this was going. "I trust him, Tev,"
he said quickly. "He's a good, caring man." Then he tenderly
kissed the other man's cheek, rubbing his back lightly. "And he
will care for you. Master Maki' would never hurt you. In
fact, I think that in time you'll be good for him, too. He
could use a companion."
"Is that what you call it?" Tevis snorted, but all the anger
had left him.
"Yes," Obi-Wan replied gently. "A friend, a companion, a
partner. You could be those to him."
"Yeah, right," Tevis sighed, then fell silent. It felt too
good to hold Obi-Wan to talk. [If only...] But that was a
futile line of thought, he knew. [And no one would want a
relationship with a shit like me anyway,] he added to himself
morosely. [Not like I am... not this messed up...]
After a long minute, Obi-Wan gently extricated himself from
Tevis's arms. "Feel better?" he murmured, looking up into the
other's lean face.
"Yeah. For a Dip you do have a good touch," Tevis muttered,
turning his face away from the compassionate gaze of his
friend. They still held onto one another, Obi-Wan not wanting
to break contact until Tevis was ready, and Tevis not wanting
to break contact at all.
"Thanks," Obi-Wan grinned.
"Oops," a voice from across the arena uttered abruptly.
Glancing over, the two young men saw that two female Healers,
both Human, had entered, purportedly to exercise. When Obi-Wan
tried to let go, Tevis tightened his arms around him, a
mischievous gleam in his eye.
"We're done," Obi-Wan said to the new arrivals, giving Tevis a
look, but relieved that the other man was feeling up to
teasing. He gestured for the Healers to enter.
"You look like you're just starting," the younger of the two
Healers noted with a smirk. A Senior Padawan as they were, her
dark brown braid brushed below her waist, the rest of her hair
clipped to jaw-length as was the tradition. Her partner, a
Knight judging from her age, rolled her eyes. The woman was
tall and very striking, a long fall of silver hair spilling
over her back.
Obi-Wan twisted out of Tevis's arms, though both were
chuckling. "Not exactly," he admitted as the two women came
over to meet them. "Long story, but this isn't what it looks
like." He extended a hand up, palm facing them. "Senior Padawan
Healer-Diplomat Obi-Wan Kenobi," he introduced himself.
The younger Healer's eyes widened at the double Disciplinary
designation. She returned the gesture by clasping his fingers
momentarily, pressing her palm against his. "So you're
Kenobi... ah, I'm Senior Padawan Healer Lizreven Dorazh... and
my master is Knight Healer Sephiria Vis. We, ah... hope to
cross-Discipline train, also." She looked sidelong at her
master. "T'kennu..."
The Knight hastened to explain. "Yes, it appears that Master
T'kennu is engineering something here. You're living in this
wing, yes? And you're Farolo, I'm guessing?" She addressed the
last to Tevis, who nodded, wondering.
Sephiria went on, nodding as well. She exchanged a quick
palm-press with each of them as she spoke. "We've had a
petition before the Council for over a year to train with
Diplomats. A week ago, we were asked to move to this part of
the Temple by Master T'kennu. He, ah, told us about the
Oraclyne." She looked at Obi-Wan, respect and a bit of awe in
her lavender eyes. "I believe he means us to work together, to
assist you in your Healer studies, you and your Master... and
Padawan Farolo as well. And we would be honored to study the
Diplomatic arts under your teaching." She finished with a small
bow.
Amazed, Obi-Wan returned the bow. "We've just returned to the
Temple," he admitted. "I hadn't heard there were any others who
wanted to study another Discipline."
"And how many more?" Tevis asked, frowning. He had just gotten
to the point where he'd thought he could be comfortable around
just Obi-Wan and his master, and Master Maki'... and now there
were others to deal with. He looked down at the diminutive
Lizreven, wrinkling his nose. He'd never gotten along with
girls... what very few he'd ever met in the Artificers, that
is.
Sephiria sighed, draping an arm along her padawan's slim
shoulders. "I have no idea if there are more, though I'd be
surprised if there weren't... say, Farolo, who is your Master?"
Tevis straightened. The Knight was every bit as tall as he
was, and he was a couple inches taller than Obi-Wan. "Makol'
Windsailor," he said immediately, and felt a quick thrum of
pride. [I have a Master again... and he's not like... like...]
He could not say the name, even to himself. [I have a
Master...]
"Yeah?" Sephiria smiled, shifting her student a bit closer.
"Oh, I'm so glad... Maki' is a wonderful Healer, very
compassionate, and a good man. So he'll be working with us,
too?" Beside her, Lizreven slipped her arm around her mentor's
waist.
For a moment, Tevis wondered if Sephiria's enthusiastic
reaction meant that she had a particular interest in Maki'...
then he caught Obi-Wan winking at him. Finally he noticed the
Knight's stance and the proximity of her padawan... and
relaxed. Obi-Wan had probably seen it right off. The Knight was
clearly paired off with her padawan, despite the large
difference in their heights. Though something about the little
Healer's eyes hinted that she was not necessarily the passive
one in the relationship...
"Um, yes, certainly," Tevis replied, exchanging a glance with
Obi-Wan, who seemed amused.
"Maki' is good," Lizreven responded in agreement, surprising
the Artificer with the nickname of his master. "Obi, is your
master really Qui-Gon Jinn? THE Qui-Gon Jinn?"
Obi-Wan laughed. "Yes, but he'd be mortified to hear you call
him THE anything..."
"Which doesn't mean," Tevis broke in, "that Obi's master isn't
intimidating. And that's not just because he's huge." He
slanted a grin sideways at Obi-Wan to take off the sting of his
words.
The Healer-Diplomat shrugged. "Size matters not. My master is
a deeply caring man, close to the Living Force." He fought off
a momentary surge of loss. And he wanted to snap back at Tevis
about the fact that all masters intimidated him, but he bit it
off, not wanting to expose Tevis to the Healers' curiosity. So
he poked at his friend, jabbing him in the ribs. "You need to
be around him more, actually."
"NOT," Tevis retorted, backing away. "Ow."
"And for the record," Obi-Wan added, slinging an arm around
Tevis's neck and pulling him closer again, "Tev and I are NOT
together."
Tevis of course came willingly, his arm curving around his
friend's waist. "Absolutely not," he grinned.
"Right," Lizreven replied, looking askance at the two young
men. "Of course, you could have fooled us."
"No, I mean it," Obi-Wan laughed. "And if you know about the
Oraclyne, you probably know that I'm rather taken." He grinned
widely even as he shot down yet another twinge. "Ecstatically
so, I might add."
Lizreven looked up at her master. "Sephy, you think he's just
making noise? They do seem awfully friendly with each other."
She seemed about to giggle.
The tall Knight grinned back. "Looks that way, doesn't it,
Liz? But I think they're just playing around. The Oraclyne is a
pair of bonded Healers..."
"Oh, darn," Liz sighed, making a point to look up and down the
full length of each man in exaggerated appreciation. "What a
shame - you two do look really nice together..."
It was Tevis's turn to laugh out loud, a sound that stunned
Obi-Wan who hadn't heard that much mirth out of the Artificer
before. But there was a brittle note to it that was more in
character. "What, this shit?" Tevis shoved Obi-Wan away from
him playfully, making a rude gesture at him. "This little piece
of crap? Looking nice?"
"That's next to you, that is," Obi-Wan teased back. Even
bitter humor from his friend was better than the earlier pain.
"Or maybe proximity to me improves your looks..."
"That's okay, boys," Liz hastily interjected as Tevis looked
incredulously at Obi-Wan. Were they about to get into a fight?
"It's just an observation, no need to get in a twist about it."
"Are your masters here at the Temple, too?" Sephiria asked,
seeing that it might be good to change the subject.
"No," Obi-Wan stated rather abruptly, then modulated his tone
of voice, his glance sliding back to the Healers. "They're at
the retreat center where we've been this past month. They
should be joining us... soon..."
"I look forward to meeting Master Jinn," the Healer murmured.
Obi-Wan got the twinge again. [I desperately need to meditate,
get the controls back as they should be,] he told himself
firmly, then schooled his expression. "He might take a little
getting used to..." He shot Tevis a glare at this, daring him
to interrupt; the other just looked away. "But you'll like him,
I know."
"Of course we will," Sephiria replied, smiling pleasantly.
Beside her, Liz grinned her agreement.
"And we're holding up your exercise," Obi-Wan interjected
smoothly, doing his Diplomatic best to move on. "But it was
great to meet both of you, Knight Vis... Liz." He purposely
used the padawan's nickname. To his relief, she grinned all the
more.
"And you, Obi," Liz replied for them both. "See you around!"
She gave her master a final squeeze, then began to release her,
intending to start warming up. But the Knight had one last
playful maneuver, just to further tease the boys. Sephiria
deftly pulled Liz back into her arms, bent down, and gave her
lover a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth before releasing
her again. Then she calmly walked away and began stretching to
prepare for their exercise. Liz, meanwhile, teetered a bit, a
goofy look on her face, then she hastily scraped together some
composure. She winked at Tevis, then turned to her master.
"Come on, Tev," Obi-Wan murmured, chuckling. "We deserved
that..." Amused, the two young men left the arena.
18)
Tevis arrowed off to work on the archive, to Obi-Wan's relief.
The Artificer had been itching to get at it since they'd gotten
here. Obi-Wan knew he wouldn't see Tevis for hours, probably
not until very late. He made a mental note to bring him
something for dinner later.
After changing his clothes, Obi-Wan retreated gratefully to
the expansive gardens on the Temple grounds. They were
wonderfully lush, substantially more verdant than the
climate-controlled gardens of the Coruscant Temple, spilling in
a riot of color over the gentle, sprawling lawns surrounding
the Dantooine Temple. And of course, the Living Force was
strong here... a poignant reminder of his beloved Qui-Gon.
He found a spot beneath a pendulous fairwood tree, its
blue-green blades reaching down to brush his shoulders as he
settled into a meditative position. Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, the
delicate tree's mild spiciness filling his nostrils. There were
a few slits of sunlight, real sunlight that reached his lap,
warming his cupped hands. He continued his deep breathing and
went through a preliminary mental exercise to calm his mind...
[I release my thoughts into the Force,] he began. [I release
Tevis, my troubled friend, whose pain I absorbed and released
into the crucible of Light. I release my new friends, Liz and
Sephiria. I release the hunger in my belly, and I release the
subtle ache in my groin. I release the attention to the
sensations around me as I take them into myself, become one
with the Living Force... I release the Need...]
But that wasn't as easy. [I release the Need,] Obi-Wan tried
again, but the Need was not about to release him, release the
Oraclyne Who was Divided. [I release my thoughts into the
Force. I release the Need...] But it was part of his flesh,
more now than even his normal senses. It chewed at him:
DIVIDED. SEPARATE. INCOMPLETE. NEED...
Obi-Wan shifted position uneasily. Time to try something else.
His master had taught him that if something is so distracting
that it prevents you from meditating, then that should become
your meditation. One should dive into it, become it, and then
let the Force clean them of it... Obi-Wan focused on the
itching in his mind and body, the ache, the Need for his other
half. [I embrace the Need, I fill my soul with Need. I eat
Need, I breathe Need, I taste and suckle Need, I embrace the
Need.] He took a deep breath, allowing the ache to grow, to
fill him. [Come, my Need, and enter my body, take hold of my
senses, possess my psyche...]
Yielding, he groaned as the pain grew into a physical ache in
his chest. [Yes, eat me, devour me, my Need,] he anguished in
the silent hall of his mind as if submitting himself to a
captor. [Break me, ruin me...] A sharp gasp emitted from his
throat as the ache grew to a real pain. Obi-Wan pitched forward
onto his hands and knees suddenly, fingers scrabbling in the
soft moss. [I feel you, Need! Rend me, fuck me...]
He moaned loudly abruptly as pain surged and a whiteness
swallowed his mind...
Obi-Wan lay face down in sweet grass, the scent tickling at
his nostrils. He felt wetness on his hands and face and the
dull ache in his bones. His eyes still squeezed shut, he
awkwardly rolled to his side and sat up, then he dared the
terrible brightness and opened his eyes.
Red. His hands were covered in red. Open, gaping wounds
revealed the stark white of bone within. Blood dripped onto his
white tunic, making a mess of his clothes, the grass...
And he understood. This of course was not real. Touching his
face he found similar wounds, though all the aching in him was
in the center of his chest. Obi-Wan gasped, the sight of bone
and so much blood making him dizzy.
Then a shadow fell upon him, dimming the bright sunlight.
"You," a voice intoned accusingly.
Blinking, his bloody hands still held out helplessly in front
of him, Obi-Wan looked up in the direction of the voice.
Unbelievably he beheld a man in rich, brocaded clothes, older
than his master, the receding hair on his head steely gray. The
man's eyes, a pale blue, were wild and staring. The man's anger
assaulted him, making him flinch. "You," the man repeated.
"This is all your fault!"
"Freely I admit my guilt," Obi-Wan sighed. "But I already did
that. Who are you?"
"You know who I am," the apparition accused. "You were
intimate with my son! You, not the one he wanted to love, the
one who stole him from me."
Obi-Wan could smell his own blood, hot and metallic. His
senses swam with it. He did not understand who this man could
be. Then he knew. Qui-Gon had struck him down before his
padawan. The padawan that turned. The dead padawan... "Xanatos
loved no one, Crion," he sighed, dimly wondering if he should
try to stop the bleeding. "You loved no one either, for that
matter. So why are you here? What are you?" He wondered
why he wasn't more surprised. "And I was intimate with him only
here, and it wasn't really him, it was..."
"Don't you know?" Crion of Telos cried, shaking a fist in his
face. "You think this is blood?" He slapped Obi-Wan's face, his
palm coming away crimson.
The young Oraclys reeled with the sudden impact. "If not
blood, then..." he gasped, regaining his balance with
difficulty as he could not grab onto anything. "Tears?"
"Your master's tears cover you, boy," Crion snapped, then
suddenly moaned, "Xanatos, my beautiful Xanatos..."
[Qui-Gon's... tears??] Obi-Wan was stunned. His master was
crying?
Crion was gone already. Obi-Wan looked down at his hands. The
blood was gone, the wounds pale white and purple, livid with
approaching decay. He looked up to see Xanatos sitting opposite
him, pale and dressed in immaculate Jedi whites. "You just
missed your father," Obi-Wan could not help saying wryly. Then
he noticed Xanatos staring at his hands. "Can you help me?" he
asked, sighing.
Xanatos ran a slim hand through his loose, flowing black hair,
revealing more of his face. His cheeks were wet with tears that
still flowed. "His tears," he sighed, wiping them with his
fingers, which he then extended to Obi-Wan. "You must drink of
his tears, Oraclyssevi. Drink deep of him..."
[A name, he named me,] Obi-Wan realized suddenly. [My name as
half of an Oraclyne is Oraclyssevi? How can I drink...] Then
the apparition swayed toward him and he knew what to do, though
not why. Shifting up onto his knees, Obi-Wan leaned forward
until he could kiss him, his wounded hands loose in the other
man's lap. But instead of kissing him, he licked the freely
flowing tears from his face.
Qui-Gon's tears. His beloved, sweet, loving Master's tears.
His Oraclys. The tears of Oraclyssiro, the half of his being.
Moaning, laying on Xanatos's chest practically, Oraclyssevi
drank the tears.
Then he was alone. But not alone, for the tears filled him
with heat, closing the gaping wounds and sealing them, erasing
the ache of Need. When Obi-Wan came to himself again, he was
lying on his back in the middle of a grassy clearing, the sun
in his face, and a light, sweet breeze wafting over him. There
was no blood anywhere.
Sitting up, he called out. "Master? Siro?"
But the voice that responded to him was Xanatos's. **He comes,
Sevi. Make the Three Days of preparation. Then go to the Dome
of Life, clear your mind, and wait for him. Be vigilant. He has
wept long for you. Bring no guilt with you.**
Obi-Wan blinked and the spiciness of the fairwood filled his
nostrils again. Immediately he rose and drew his robe and hood
close about him. He would look on no other face again until his
Master was before him. Silently he went into the Temple, to the
quarters he would share with his Oraclys, his Siro. He would
make the Three Days... but not before he made a call on his
commlink.
"Tev... Obi. Yeah, we're okay, I know you were kidding.
Listen, brother, I won't be seeing you for a few days. Of
course I'm all right. I must make the Three Days." Already
Obi-Wan was entering into his datapad a list of what he would
need, what he would do. "You don't know what the Three Days
are..." Deep sigh. Artificers knew nothing. "It's a time
of isolation and preparation. Diplomats do it when they can
before a mission they know will be especially difficult. Or
before rituals or vow ceremonies. Fine, I'll explain later."
Obi-Wan leaned back hard on the door to his quarters, closing
his eyes. Now the Need thrummed again, but it was different,
quieter, and he recognized it as merely the Oraclyne Need to
heal, to reassure his troubled friend. "Oh, Tev, we'll talk
when this is over. Go back to your work on the archive, okay?
It will take you that long to read it anyway, yeah, even
you, brother."
In his quarters, where he sat in front of his data terminal,
Tevis angrily swiped tears from his eyes. "What's this
'brother' shit, Kenobi?" He could not admit how deeply that had
touched him. His fellow Artificers had never been "brothers"
though they were as Jedi as he. [He called me that twice, the
little shit...]
"Tev... shut up." Obi-Wan smiled, knowing he'd made an
important inroad with the Artificer. "Our masters will be
returning to the Temple in three days. I just KNOW, quit asking
questions... get that archive under control. See you then."
"Kenobi Dip..." There was emotion in the other's voice.
Obi-Wan grinned. "Arty-Tev..." And no little emotion in his.
Somehow Tevis Farolo had managed to become his best friend...
after his master, of course. He had no one else near him in age
here, though he hoped to become friends with Liz, too. But
Tevis was somehow special. Perhaps it was his brokenness...
"Take care and don't forget to eat." He shut off the commlink
and tossed it on the couch. Then he began to strip his clothes
off.
Maki' Windsailor had debated with himself no fewer than five
times about whether to call for help in handling the Jedi
Master who was a very incomplete Oraclys. Qui-Gon Jinn had
manifested both incredible control and serenity in managing his
own Need... and brief, intense periods of despair when the
impressive controls slipped. Maki' had seen Qui-Gon suicidal
once, and that was more than enough for his lifetime, thank you
very much.
Qui-Gon, of course insisted he was hardly that far gone, but
nevertheless those short episodes were a little scary for the
Master Healer. Maki' felt very alone and very responsible, for
he could sense only too well how Qui-Gon had carefully shut his
padawan out from sensing the bad times. If Qui-Gon truly lost
his battle against the Need... they would both be lost and
Obi-Wan would never know on this side of life what had
happened. Only the Master Healer might have a chance at
intervention against the unthinkable... again.
On the fifth time, Maki' discovered that Qui-Gon had disabled
their communications. "Why?" the Healer asked the other master
bluntly, angry with him for the first time since the aborted
"transition".
Face streaked with tears, Qui-Gon had been quietly rending his
tunic into shreds for the last ten minutes. **This is
temporary,** came the reply. Qui-Gon could not speak through
the pain. **Am I harming myself?**
**Not yet,** Maki' responded in the same way, crouching down
before the other master who knelt in the center of the common
room's floor. He was careful not to touch him; Qui-Gon had made
it clear some time ago that he would not bear another's touch.
**Do you really think it cannot happen? Pardon me, but I cannot
share that assessment, Qui!**
Qui-Gon was taking deep breaths, starting his journey back
toward serenity already. **See? I'm already better. You know,
you might as well just leave me and go on to the Temple...**
Maki' swiped away his own tears. **Stop saying that... I will
not leave you. You know this is getting worse and it will get
worse until he returns to you. And I will sedate you again if
necessary.**
The older man flinched; the Master Healer had purposely
reminded him of Qui-Gon's bout with insanity. At the end he
had had to be sedated. **Maki'...** came the plaintive
thought, the other's mental touch not in the least weakened by
his dilemma. **You do not know what this feels like...**
Maki' sat down on the floor all the way, crossing his legs.
[Here we go... at least he's talking to me now...] "So tell me.
In detail."
Qui-Gon shot him a narrowed glare, but then took another deep
breath and closed his eyes. **I will tell you. I will not show
you. It... it's very primal. The Need...** Still another deep
breath. "The Need is two-fold. The lesser side is that which
responds to the pain or suffering of another. That is easily
controlled now, perfectly so, in fact. It's the other side...
the Need for my Oraclys, my Sevi, that's what is more
difficult. It... tears at me, threatens to completely unman
me...**
**Sevi?** Maki' interrupted. **What is that?**
**I do not know where it came from, except that it is my name
for him, what I alone as his Oraclys may call him... as I am
his Siro. Oralcyssiro... and he is Oraclyssevi, or so it came
to me in meditation.** Qui-Gon paused, sighing heavily. **There
is no other word, perhaps, for what he truly is to me. Oh,
Maki', the Need for him... thought I shut out awareness of him,
shut out my side of the bond, it is no use. I know without
knowing, feel without feeling, see without seeing...**
**That does not make sense,** Maki' murmured back.
**Yet it is so,** Qui-Gon replied. He shifted from a kneeling
position to sit fully on the floor, drawing his long legs up,
hugging his knees like a child. **I know that you have been
loath to continue treating us like a medical experiment, but...
you might want to test me, Maki'. I feel...** He paused, chin
on his knees, considering. **I think I'm fading...**
Maki' was already running to get the diagnostic equipment.
"Force, Qui, if I thought it would do any good to yell at you
for the way you disregard your personal health, I'd have been
doing it... and what of Obi-Wan?"
**I... I do not know.** A deep breath. **No, I would know if
he was. He is managing better than I am, I believe. The
resiliency of youth...** Qui-Gon fell silent.
Maki' narrowed his eyes at him as he settled back down beside
him. "Qui, when did you meditate last?"
There was no answer. The Healer blew out his breath in
exasperation after a moment. "All right, look, I know you have
not been eating well or sleeping properly. At least you
exercise... but your meditation..."
Qui-Gon shifted position minutely, clearly uncomfortable with
the question. "I will see him there," he whispered aloud.
Puzzled, Maki' frowned. "Where?"
"Spirit land." Qui-Gon coughed slightly, his throat tightening
up again. He switched back to mind-speech. **We are drawn into
the spirit land when we enter a deep meditative trance. I will
not intrude upon him, even there.**
[He's not meditating... it's been two days without
any,] Maki' thought with dread. [A Jedi Master used to
frequent meditation to go without...] He knew that for Jedi,
meditation incurred chemical changes in the body which
facilitated communion with the Force. No, not merely
facilitated... it was essential to clear the mind, let the
Force flow freely... or else a Jedi reached the point where
they could no longer summon the Force, only sense it. Even a
few minutes would help... but Qui-Gon Jinn, in his ardent goal
to avoid his Oraclys because it was what Obi-Wan wished... had
severed his source of mental and spiritual nourishment.
Disgusted with Jedi who practiced such extremes, Maki' shoved
aside the diagnostic equipment.
"I will not test you. You need to meditate. Now." Maki' put
his own fierce Healer determination into the command. "Or I
will sedate you."
Qui-Gon peered over at him, his dark blue eyes widened in
alarm. "Maki'..."
"Now," the Master Healer repeated firmly. He gathered himself
mentally, hoping he would not have to battle his friend for
this. Though Maki' was a formidable telepath, he couldn't hope
to overcome Qui-Gon Jinn mentally, and a sedative would have to
catch him by surprise or in a weakened condition to even work.
A wave of anguish surged, then was suppressed, the other
master's massive controls back in place. "Very well," Qui-Gon
whispered. "But I will avoid him."
"Fine, whatever." [T'kennu told me that the brilliant and the
gifted often have flaws or problems every bit as extreme as
their extraordinary advantages. Figures that the Oraclyne would
be subject to that... and lucky me gets to keep them from the
worst they can do to themselves or each other...] Maki' hastily
moved out of the way as Qui-Gon rose to his feet and stalked
past him to the stone veranda behind the cottage. When Qui-Gon
settled in his usual posture, Maki' joined him, though he
planned to remain rather more alert... just in case.
19)
Qui-Gon knelt in the usual sort of grassy clearing that was
typical of their spirit land encounters; only one difference
made itself immediately felt. The sky was dark, a stormy
green-gray that often hailed tornadoes. Wind whipped around his
white tunics and leggings, wrapping his long hair around his
face and the air held a cooled energy that warned of immanent,
meteorological violence.
The sky - Obi-Wan's eyes were sometimes that color. And the
last storm that Qui-Gon had seen had been the one he'd created
out of his pent-up negative energy on Belvin Three.
The Force was equally stirred up, and the Jedi Master was
stunned to read Dark thrashing around, flailing against the
waning Light. He understood at last; balance had been
interrupted. His. The Dark was the dismay in his heart over
Obi-Wan's falling into guilt. Or, since Obi-Wan was so much a
part of him now, the Dark was that guilt, that
overwhelming sense of having betrayed Qui-Gon that had driven
his padawan away from him.
[I did not cause that guilt,] Qui-Gon reminded himself,
frowning. [Obi-Wan must dissipate the guilt himself before he
can face me again. So why am I faced with this? I'm missing
something...]
He rose smoothly to his feet and turned around, prompted by a
minute shift in the Force. There, standing at ease about twenty
meters away, was Xanatos. He wore the Jedi whites as if born to
them. In the wind, his long, fine, black hair whipped madly
about his face, but otherwise his entire demeanor was one of
calm. "Xan," Qui-Gon murmured gently. "Tell me about the storm,
Xan."
The other's chin tipped up after a long pause, and an ice-blue
gaze caught and held his for a long moment. Then the image of
his former padawan spoke. "My Master," Xanatos began with a
deep bow, reverence thick in his voice, "consider the purpose
of a storm..."
Qui-Gon could not remember a time when Xanatos had bowed to
him so, except in the forced formality of his Senior Padawan
vows. "A storm," he breathed, "renews the environment with
charged particles..."
"More," Xanatos interrupted, gliding closer to close the
distance by half. "A storm... the spirit..."
The Jedi Master understood. "A storm is cleansing, purging. I
need to let the storm break in me, cleanse me?"
Still Xanatos neared until he stood within arm's reach. "What
is a Healer?"
"One who heals" was too obvious an answer. Qui-Gon studied
him, thinking. "One who aids in the restoration of health..."
"What is health?" Xanatos, his eyes still gazing up into the
depths of his former master's eyes, edged closer still and laid
a hand over Qui-Gon's heart.
The simple touch warmed him. "Harmony," Qui-Gon replied,
looking into Xanatos's eyes with wonder. "Balance."
"We are but tools of the Force, my Master," Xanatos sighed,
fingertips making small circles over the center of Qui-Gon's
chest. He dropped his gaze abruptly, focusing on his fingers.
"I have learned of my own purpose in life and death. I have
learned how the Dark molds one in order to create a contrast
for the Light so that the Light may shine clearly. Only out of
Dark is there life. Only out of a storm is there healing. One
dies to live, one is destroyed to be made whole. To what do you
need to die, my Master?"
The apparition's voice was gentle, even loving. Qui-Gon felt a
twinge, understanding that Xanatos's descent into Darkness had
been necessary to forge him into the being of Light as he was
now. As for himself... "Fear. I need to die to my fear of being
separated from Obi-Wan."
Then he knew what he had not known before, what the Archive
could not have told him. A sharp pain entered his heart and he
clutched suddenly at the hand touching him, stilling it. "My
Sevi and I will be together forever... but unlike every other
Oraclyne over the course of ten thousand years, we do not need
to be physically present to one another to function. I may lose
him..." His voice faltered, but he pressed on, accepting the
critical need to face this. "I may lose him to betrayal again.
It could happen... and I must allow it, embrace it, accept it.
Nothing he may do to me can affect our basic truth, that we are
Oraclyne and cannot be fully separated. Even if our minds are
not one, our souls are. We cannot be divided, though we cause
each other tremendous pain..."
Qui-Gon cried out suddenly as a deeper truth hit him - or was
that a lightning bolt? [Not what he may do to me, but I cling
to the fear of what I can do to him... fear of my power, fear
of my dominance. I tried to kill him before...] Another jolt
pierced him, and he fell to his knees. [I left him on
Melida/Daan... I left him! Our missions - how many times
had I placed him in danger? And how many more times will I need
to in the future? We are Jedi...]
That was the dilemma of every Jedi who'd ever pair-bonded with
another. Jedi Knights of the Diplomat Discipline often danced
on the edge of life and death, and must face sending their
loved ones into the path of the Dark. Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon
had yet to come to terms with that as lovers and partners in
their mutual work. When they were ready to take up the
Chancellor's mission of being Ambassadors of Healing, it would
be no different... because they would be sent in only when all
others had failed, sent into the most desperate, dangerous
situations because there would be no other hope. [Like
Melida/Daan. To this day the populace is still broken. Too many
deaths, too many tears shed... how can even the Jedi Oraclyne
hope to bring light to such a place?] Yet they would need to.
No other could.
[I have power, immense power,] Qui-Gon thought soberly. [Power
to do worse harm to my Sevi than anyone else could ever hope
to. No one will ever be able to hurt him as deeply as I can.
And the hardest part - sometimes I may need to hurt him.
Or he may need to hurt me. And we must allow it...]
It was what Obi-Wan, in fleeing his beloved Master, had
already done. In his eyes, he'd betrayed his Master by refusing
to accept Qui-Gon's determination that they were responding to
a perceived psychological urge that in fact did not exist. The
fact that Qui-Gon had perceived no betrayal did not matter;
Obi-Wan had felt that he'd committed a serious lapse and needed
to come to terms with it alone. [Even had it been a real
betrayal, it must be allowed. The Force uses even that...]
Hence, balance. Allowing pain. [Oh, Force, I will hurt him
again and again... and he may hurt me... and we must accept it.
It must be for the Light to shine through, for Healing to
begin.] Qui-Gon lifted eyes streaming with tears to Xanatos. "I
must accept that I will hurt him."
"Yes," Xanatos murmured with a sigh. "And know that the pain
has its place, a needed place in the Healing you will achieve."
Then he gestured, looking up into the storm. "Obi-Wan is
finding his purification in his own way. You are finding yours.
You must let the storm strip you of the fear of your potential.
Accept the pain and make it yours. Then - the Three Days."
Qui-Gon nodded, somberly. The "storm" would represent the
psychological stripping away of his fears about what he was
capable of. Then he would immerse himself into the Three Days
meditative retreat and complete his death to fear, even as
Obi-Wan would do the same, completing his death to his own
potential to harm.
[We will unite together again, whole,] Qui-Gon knew with the
first returning measure of peace. [I will submit to the storm.]
Abruptly Qui-Gon felt a surge of pain through the Force, but
it was not the storm he was expecting. Clearly... it was from
Obi-Wan. He jerked in reaction, then found himself staring in
shock into Xanatos's serene, ice-blue eyes. "Steady, Master,"
the other murmured.
Qui-Gon was a breath away from breaking out of the trance,
reaching for his Oraclys in support and aid. Then just as
abruptly he understood. Obi-Wan had taken some of his friend
Tevis's pain and released it into the Force. "Yes," he
breathed, remaining where he was. Then he was fully awake and
gazing into the eyes of the Healer, whose frightened worry was
starkly written on his face.
"It's all right, Maki'," he murmured hastily, taking in deep
breaths to steady his own racing heart and emotions. "Obi-Wan
is helping Tevis with something. I must go back into trance,
finish what must be done there."
"Don't scare me like that," Maki' replied softly, studying the
other master's face. "What is happening there? The spirit land,
right?"
"Yes." Qui-Gon paused to take another deep breath, then
continued. "There is something I must deal with there - my fear
of what my powers are capable of. You're going to have to let
me go back and take care of that... no matter what it seems is
going on. I must do this... then I will be taking a Three-Day
retreat. Alone."
Maki' narrowed his eyes at him. "The retreat, I'll allow you,
though I do not like it. What you're doing now... I am NOT
leaving you. In fact, I'll try to follow. I can never tell if I
get through to the spirit land or not, but from what Obi-Wan
has told me before, I do get through. You may see me as another
person, and likely I will not be able to talk to you, but I'll
be there."
A wave of relief and gratitude passed through Qui-Gon.
"Thanks, Maki'. Just don't... interfere. I trust Xanatos on
this. I must go through the storm of my fear. Then..." He
looked deep into the other's eyes, communicating as much loving
concern as his words ever could. "Go to the Temple and care for
your padawan. Obi-Wan is helping, but he needs you."
"I know," Maki' replied in a whisper. "I feel the Force
calling me to him." He tore his gaze away and composed himself
for meditation.
A last deep breath, and Qui-Gon was doing the same. Together
they descended into trance...
Qui-Gon was struck to his knees immediately by the first
lightning bolt the moment he returned to the spirit world. Pain
lanced through his body and mind, but he welcomed it, accepting
that it would burn away his fears. Even as he reeled, he
checked his controls. Even as he twitched in agony, he knew
with immense relief that absolutely none of what he was
experiencing would reach his beloved. This was his own battle.
Xanatos, watching from a short distance away, did not heed the
streaming tears coursing down his own face. Abruptly he broke
off his gaze, turning around as he sensed someone. There, a
short ways off, stood an old woman, tall yet slightly stooped
with age. "Who are you?" he snapped, more irritated than he
meant to be. He wanted to stop Qui-Gon, spare him from the
agonies, but he knew he must not.
"So you're Xanatos," the woman cackled harshly. "He owes you a
lot. Although I understand that you owe him far, far more."
Blanching, the former Jedi Padawan straightened. "I have
repaid my debt to him. I have atoned for my sins against him
and his beloved."
"Have you? It is easy to atone on this side, service him in
order to win the Light for yourself." She twitched a long, dark
robe more closely around herself, glancing over at Qui-Gon. Her
expression was tinged with pain, watching the suffering master.
Xanatos emitted a moan, then fell on his knees beside Qui-Gon,
pulling the trembling man into his arms even as the lightning
continued to strike him. Himself, it did not touch. "I did not
do this for myself!" he protested, the tears spilling all the
more.
"I see," the old woman muttered, regarding him with disdain.
It was then that Xanatos realized - the woman was Jedi Master
Quillian Jinn, Qui-Gon's grandmother, a decorated Jedi long
deceased. Xanatos had met her briefly as a child, he
remembered.
"Master Quillian! Please, I am doing all I can," Xanatos
cried, rocking with the pain-racked form of his once-master in
his arms.
"Yes?" she queried, peering narrowly at him. "Will you die for
him again?"
"What? I am already dead..."
"And again. And again. Did you think the Oraclyne would never
have a price to pay for its powers? You have bound your spirit
to them, giving yourself to embody the spirit of their bond.
That bond gives them unimaginable power. What is the price of
that power, Padawan Xanatos delCrion?"
"My death," Xanatos whispered, understanding only as he spoke
it. "Not the death of the bond, but the death of my identity,
my singularity."
"Can you die to yourself, Padawan?"
Qui-Gon lifted his head minutely from Xanatos's chest.
"Grandmother... he has his peace now."
Xanatos gave a start, for Qui-Gon was still struggling with
his own dying to fear, the dark energies still assailing him.
"I owe you more, Master," he said reverently. "I will die as
often as I am needed to."
"Hmph," the old Jedi said again, then turned to leave them. In
a span of a breath, she had vanished. Xanatos held his former
master tighter, supporting him in his agony.
Lightning struck. They died together and lived together.
When it was done, Qui-Gon kissed his former apprentice deeply,
a kiss of gratitude and compassion, the other's tears still
flowing. Then he departed from the spirit world and arose from
trance, opening his eyes to regard a curious Maki'.
"Well?" the Healer demanded anxiously. "As usual, I have no
idea. Did you see anyone else?"
"I'll tell you sometime," Qui-Gon replied cryptically, rising
to his feet. [Why did he have to show up as Grandmother??] "I
must get ready for the Three-Day."
Maki' glared at the other master. "Whatever. All right, I'll
leave for the Temple. I will NOT contact Obi-Wan, never fear.
Are you all right, Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon looked over at him finally. He'd only begun to release
his fears, the stabs of the Force knocking down his resistance.
The Three-Day required silence, fasting, meditation. Now he
longed for it, longed for the cleansing. "Yes, Maki', I'm all
right." He laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Thank you.
I will see you in three days."
"Hmph," Maki' made a noise way too much like Jedi Master
Quillian Jinn and turned away. Before he could get anywhere,
Qui-Gon hauled him back, pulling him into a hug. "Hey...!"
"Oracine," Qui-Gon murmured, naming what Maki' was to him.
Then he kissed his hair and released a very confused Master
Healer.
[Damn Diplomats,] Maki' thought, trying not to let a grin bust
loose before he could escape.
Later that morning Maki' stopped in at the Dantooine Temple
comm center, which also served as something of a reception area
as well as being adjacent to his former master's chambers. As
he half-expected, he was summoned immediately into the main
chamber of that august presence. "My Master," he murmured,
bowing low to the Neti.
Master T'kennu, whose species resembled large, gnarly tree
stumps more than anything else, waved a root-like tentacle in a
gesture of affection toward his last padawan. "Makol', my
sprout," he hailed the other Healer, making the gentle rumbling
noises that indicated pleasure. "You have something to tell me,
yes?"
"Yes, Master," Maki' grinned, settling onto a tall stool that
served as perch for most species who might visit the head of
the Dantooine Healers' Temple. For T'kennu to refer to him as
"sprout" indicated he thought of the young Master Healer as his
son. Maki' felt a surge of his own affection for the ancient
one. "You would know! I'm taking another Padawan,
Master."
"Ah, the Artificer, I'm guessing?" the Neti rumbled again.
"This is good, Makol'. Although I am aware you have your work
cut out for you. You have formed the bond with him, yes?"
[Oh. This could be a problem.] Maki' straightened, sighing.
"No, Master. I do not believe that will be possible for a
while." He took a deep breath. It was time he spoke of his
suspicions. "I believe that Tevis has been abused by his last
master. Mentally, emotionally at the very least. Perhaps... in
other ways. Or by more than one master. He has an inordinate
fear of all Jedi Masters that cannot be otherwise explained."
He sighed again. "I am still very much trying to gain his
trust. I think even that will take a long time. I do not think
he will be ready for bonding for some time."
"Makol'..." T'kennu peered at his protege with his deep-set
brown eyes. "This boy needs a bond, and as soon as possible. He
must heal through the connection with another." He made a gruff
noise of satisfaction. "This is a task you were born for, my
sprout. You have a well of compassion and caring within you
that has been barely tapped. You must reach out to him, show
him unconditional acceptance. The training bond will enable you
to keep that acceptance flowing until he believes it. Has he
confided in anyone, do you think?"
[I'm not ready either,] Maki' was thinking, but hastened to
reply. "He and Obi-Wan seem to be developing a close
friendship. If he tells anyone what has happened to him, it
will be him."
T'kennu considered what his former apprentice told him
carefully. This revelation disturbed him deeply, and having met
Tevis, his own deep sense of compassion was stirred. "That is
good. Obi-Wan is stable and balanced. We must try to get Tevis
to admit what has been done to him, Makol'. There have been...
suggestions... about lately to indicate that an investigation
into the Artificer Discipline may be warranted. Tevis's
testimony may be critical."
"Master, yes, I see," Maki' responded, but was frowning. "Yet
I do not think we can pressure Tevis too much. He's... fragile
right now. Just accepting a Master has been a huge step for
him. And we have yet to talk about that much at all."
The deep brown eyes studied him intently. "There's something
else you should know. I am defying the High Council, Makol'. I
am allowing a cross-Disciplinary training center to be founded
here at our Temple." Rumbling noises and a gesture that served
as a Neti smile. "They do not even know about it yet, although
I think Yoda might by now."
Maki' stared at his mentor, astonished. "Master, you mean they
truly would not allow it? I mean, there are already those who
will cross-train - the Oraclyne and Tevis, to start with. I do
not find it surprising if there are more. Surely the Council
would see the advantage..."
"Talk to Galiddys lately?" T'kennu interrupted.
"Ah..." Maki' had not in fact spoken with his former Healer
partner in a couple weeks. "No, I haven't. What's Gali done
now?"
"Not Galiddys," T'kennu replied, waving tentacles in glee.
"This has been initiated, actually, by Master Gabryel Enzi of
the Contemplative Discipline. He and Galiddys are enroute here
to begin the process of organizing this training center,
hopefully with Qui-Gon, if our senior Oraclys agrees. Which I'm
sure he will. And speaking of which, how IS the Oraclyne?"
Maki' was trying to wrap his mind around the idea of a
training center for multi-Disciplinary studies. It was
brilliant and probably very needed. "Ah, Qui-Gon is engaged in
a Three-Day right now, and I believe Obi-Wan may be as well.
Obi-Wan is already here. He came to help Tevis get settled in."
T'kennu winked, which was a sort of a nod for him. "Everything
is well with them?"
[Everything will be well,] Maki' thought, but did not
want to go into the whole transition snafu with T'kennu. "Yes,
they've entered Stage 3 of their development already. That
means their powers will be steadily growing into fullness."
"Ah, I long to see them perform a full Healing someday,"
T'kennu murmured with a whooshing sound that was a Neti sigh.
"Anyway, I'm sure we will have to share the Oraclyne with
whatever projects Chancellor Vallorum finds for them. But that
is still some months away. Meanwhile, we will be gathering the
first students. Do you know Sephiria Vis?"
"Yearmate of mine, as you know well," Maki' murmured,
chuckling. "She didn't take a Padawan for several years. I
think her first is somewhere around Obi-Wan and Tevis's ages
now." Then he caught what his former master was getting at.
"She's looking to cross-train, really?"
T'kennu rumbled a chuckle. "She and her rather determined
padawan. Lizreven Dorazh, who will one day be either an
Ambassador of Healing herself or an administrator of a center
of Healing. Sephiria believes she's half-Diplomat already."
"And Sephy?" Maki' thought there was more to this than the
potential of a padawan.
"Let me correct myself." T'kennu was still chuckling.
"Sephiria and Lizreven will be Ambassadors for Healing
together, or will be running Healing centers. They are closely
bonded and will be mates."
"Oh, that's wonderful," Maki' murmured. [Everyone around me is
pair-bonded. I wonder if there's any chance that Tevis and I
could form more of a connection... ] But he realized he did not
even know what his new padawan looked like without any pain in
his eyes. [Too wounded... a relationship of that intensity is
the last thing he needs right now.] "So they'll be studying
Diplomacy, Tevis and the Oraclyne will be studying Healing.
Anyone else?"
"Enzi has found others, I hear. The center will be in the new
west wing of the Temple."
Maki' sighed, then slipped off the stool. "Yes, Tevis has
informed me that's where our quarters will be. I'm going to
meet him now."
T'kennu looked long at the young Master Healer. "Go with the
strength and compassion of the Force, my sprout."
Impulsively, Maki' neared and threw his arms around the front
of the massive Neti in a hug.
==============
20)
Hours ago, Tevis had come across a reference to the
"transition to Stage 2" in the Oraclyne archive and since then,
he was searching through the massive file for every bit of
information on it. Like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he was mystified
by the references to trauma and the implication of sexual
violence. [Did they go through this? Is this what made Obi-Wan
run from his master? Did Jinn hurt him?] He wanted to go to his
friend immediately, even if he interrupted his retreat. [I must
know what happened... though Obi didn't appear to have been
injured. Still...]
So absorbed was he, that when Maki' entered their quarters, he
did not look up from the data terminal.
Maki' watched his new padawan for a moment, seeing the
Artificer's intense concentration. [And this is what they call
their form of meditation,] he mused, sighing. There was much,
much work to be done to retrain the boy. "Good morning,
Padawan," he spoke up finally.
The sound of that particular voice jolted Tevis from his
reverie. "Master," he breathed, paling as he lurched to his
feet, facing him. Again he fought the urge to sink to his
knees. "I... I'm sorry, I did not hear you come in."
"It's all right, Tevis," Maki' murmured, keeping his voice
calm and warm. "I'm glad to see you working on the archive. I
know there is much to learn there..."
"Did he hurt him?" Tevis blurted out suddenly. "In their
transition - I read about what that was supposed to be like.
Did Master Jinn hurt Obi-Wan? Is that why he ran away?"
Maki' looked at the young man in alarm, noting the wild eyes,
fast breathing, nervous rubbing of his hands together. "Oh, no,
Tevis!" he hastened to reassure him. "There wasn't any
transition. The archive doesn't apply to Force-adepts in this
case, we've discovered."
Tevis stared at him in disbelief. "They didn't have violent
sex?" he demanded, unconsciously nearing in a threatening
stance.
The Master Healer ignored the other's challenge. "They didn't
have sex at all, if you must know," Maki' replied mildly.
"Obi-Wan wanted it, believing they must go through the
transition. The truth was, Qui-Gon had discovered that they did
not need the transition, that they were responding to the
subconscious suggestion that they had to, ah, take it out on
one another, as it were. When Obi-Wan realized that he'd nearly
fought his master over this, as he'd refused to trust Qui-Gon,
he left, unable to face Qui-Gon until he dealt with his shame.
Shame as he perceived it, of course. I've gathered that there
have been... issues... between them in the past, back when
Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan as padawan."
The young Artificer wasn't sure he believed the Master.
"Issues. Things that Jinn had done to his padawan?" Tevis's
voice was tight, almost angry.
"Not in the least," Maki' replied, again refusing to respond
to the other's agitation. "Tevis, I know you care about
Obi-Wan. I do not know all their history, except that Obi-Wan,
when he was only Qui-Gon's padawan a few months, had left the
Order, abandoning his training for a cause he thought was a
better one than being a Jedi. That betrayal cut Qui-Gon deeply,
for he'd already lost one padawan to the Dark Side before
Obi-Wan. They reconciled, of course, but there have been trust
issues buried between them ever since, I believe. Anyway,
that's all in the past. Obi-Wan loves Qui-Gon deeply and was
embarrassed that he trusted him so little. They will be fine,
Tevis. More than fine, I believe."
Tevis twitched a shoulder, still nervous for his friend,
wanting to believe but still wary. "He did say that it was
something he'd done, not his Master. I... didn't believe him."
Maki' noted that Tevis had not as yet met his eyes. "Tevis,"
he said gently, gazing at him, "please look at me..."
Warily Tevis glanced over. His blue gaze skittered once past
the Master's gaze, then came back as he forced himself to meet
the ice-blue eyes. A tiny voice in his head noted that Maki'
had truly beautiful eyes... indeed, the man was beautiful. But
he was a Master.
"Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are in love with each other. Theirs is
not an abusive relationship. Qui-Gon has never harmed his
apprentice physically. Emotionally... there may have been some
difficult times in the past between them. That is long over,
and now they are deeply bonded and imprinted upon one another
as the first Jedi Oraclyne." Maki' paused. He wanted to touch
the other man, reassure him that way, but he knew he must not
press Tevis in that area. And he must balance compassion with
firmness. "Tevis, I will not hear you speak again about whether
or not Master Jinn is harming his padawan. Your perception of
what Jedi Masters are like is flawed."
Tevis twitched again, a denial rising to his lips. But he kept
it back, resorting to obedience, not wanting to anger his new
master. Not already. "Yes, Master," he replied a bit sullenly.
Maki' felt a surge of his empathy toward this damaged padawan.
"Oh, Tevis, someday you will tell me what happened to you on
Corellia... or at the very least, you must tell Obi-Wan." He
paused, wondering if he dare say more on the subject. [We must
form a bond... which means walls have to start coming down.]
Still holding the other's gaze, Maki' dared. "Tevis, I know you
were abused by your master."
Suddenly frightened, Tevis backed away abruptly and fell
against the edge of the console behind him, crashing into the
data terminal. He got his feet under him again, but was
trembling. [cannottell cannottell cannottell didnothappen
didnothappen...] When the Healer clasped his arms, earnestly
calling to him, he stared at him, bewildered.
[What is WRONG with him?] Maki' thought quickly, horrified at
the violent reaction. [It's like his mind blew a circuit...]
"Tevis, can you hear me? We must talk about this! Why are you
so afraid of me? Tevis, please, I won't hurt you, I could never
hurt you..."
"I... I know," Tevis heard himself say, then a sob tore out of
him as he managed to accept it. This Master would not...
this Master could not.
"You must tell me what he did to you," Maki' pressed on,
noting that Tevis was not at all aware that he was even
touching him. "Please, you've got to tell..."
"Did?" Tevis gasped, shaking his head. "No one... no one did
anything to me. It didn't happen. Nothing happened..."
[cannottell neverhappened cannottell neverhappened]
Maki' stared at him in disbelief. "Tevis... you cannot tell me
that you have not been abused. By your own master or another
master or masters, it doesn't matter."
"No, no," Tevis tried to say. He was clinging to the Healer's
arms now, unable to look away, clinging to hope as steadfastly
as his mind was trained to cling to the horror without knowing
what the horror was. "I... I don't know what you are talking
about..."
"You're not on Corellia anymore," Maki' continued, his voice
carefully compassionate. "The Artificer Masters are not here.
No one here will ever hurt you. You can tell me..."
"NO," Tevis countered more vehemently, suddenly wrenching
away. "Nothing... happened. Nothing. It never... nothing ever
happened. Never. Never." He turned way and hugged his arms to
himself, still trembling.
[Well, this has been a disaster,] Maki' thought ruefully to
himself. [I told Qui-Gon I would be no good at this...] "Very
well," he said in a low voice. Again he itched to touch him,
hold him, but... not yet. "Tevis, I will not ask you about this
again. I'm not sure what's going on here, but clearly you
cannot handle this right now. Someday - you will come to me and
tell me everything. Until then..." He paused, his heart aching.
"Until then, we have a bond to form. I'm not sure if it's even
possible between us with all you're carrying inside you. But I
must try."
Tevis was still folded away inside himself, the litany running
rapidly through his mind. "Y...yes, Master."
Maki' wished he had Qui-Gon here to help him. The older Master
would know how to handle this broken young man... but even if
Qui-Gon was not involved in a Three-Day, he might not be of
help just because Tevis had always reacted badly around him.
[He can sense Qui's power... and it frightens him. Oh, great...
never mind that Obi-Wan is plenty powerful himself. It's the
Master thing... Strange that he tolerates me...]
Sighing, he touched Tevis lightly on the arm. "Come, Padawan,
sit down with me before you fall down." Then he turned and sat
down on the couch in their common room, arranging his dark blue
robe about him.
Then a voice came to Maki' which shocked him. **Do you want us
to intervene?** It was the Oraclyne. The entire Oraclyne,
though the two halves were in different locations. Then he
understood. Their Need had called them to respond. Did they
have a special connection to Tevis that enabled them to sense
Tevis's distress? Obi-Wan certainly could have...
**Qui, Obi...** he breathed mentally in response. **No, not
yet, though I'm beginning to see that you may be his only hope.
But he needs to reach a point where he is ready to trust us. I
think... I think I can get him to trust me enough to seek help.
I believe that any more pushing at this point will only
increase his fear.** Lightly he touched the mind of each
Oraclys, the touch of affection between an Oracine and its
Oraclyne. **His trauma is deep-seated. He needs simple
affection and a secure environment right now, I think. I will
provide that. Thank you...**
The Jedi Oraclyne responded with a wash of love, then fell
silent, each half again separate. Maki' guessed that they did
not talk to one another, either before responding or now. [I
hope they know what they're doing, remaining apart. The
Three-Days had better go fast...]
Tevis fell heavily on his half of the couch. "I finished
installing a search engine in the archive," he murmured, not
looking at his master yet. "It's fully searchable now." Then he
glanced over, not quite meeting the other's eyes. "The archive
really isn't accurate for the Jedi Oraclyne?"
[Maybe that's a way to get closer to him,] Maki' had the
sudden thought. [Talk about anything but his problems. It's a
start...] "Yes, unfortunately. No other Oraclyne has been
comprised of Jedi, much less Force-sensitives. Jedi have mental
controls that other Oraclys do not possess. A fact that slipped
all of our attention."
"It's... strange," Tevis began hesitantly. He was still far
from calm, though his innate curiosity and interest in the
subject was kicking into action. "There is no genetic basis for
the Oraclyne... no genetic factors that can explain the
matching of Zevdrani and Bajrheni. I can hardly believe that."
"Many things cannot be explained by genetics, Padawan," Maki'
said mildly. A scientific discussion he could handle. "The
Oraclyne simply is. I've seen how the Zevdrani Oraclyne is
revered on that planet. It's a gift, that's all. Just as you or
I have gifts."
"I have no gifts," Tevis said automatically, reverting to his
old argument. When his master narrowed his eyes at him, he
sighed. "All right, I have gifts. Supposedly. Whatever."
"You're a Jedi Senior Padawan and a full Artificer," Maki'
reminded him gently. "That's no small thing, Tevis. You have
many blessings." [And I hope I can be one to you,] he
thought to himself.
"I know," Tevis said in a small voice. He looked down to
discover he was nervously fiddling with the ends of his tabard.
Folding his hands in his lap, he added, "I'm glad I was allowed
to come here. And I'm glad I met Obi-Wan... and you."
[He fears Qui-Gon, still.] "Not Master Jinn?" It was treading
back into dangerous territory, but it had to be done.
A flicker of fear went through the younger man's countenance.
"I... if he's as you and Obi say he is... then, yes. He's just
so..."
"Tall? Old? Powerful?" Maki' offered, smiling slightly. "Well,
for a Zevdrani he's Not old by any means..."
"Yeah, powerful," Tevis admitted. "But I guess he's okay,
really. I mean... Obi..." [Obi-Wan glows when he looks at his
master,] Tevis realized with a pang.
"Yes," Maki' replied, understanding. "I'm glad you have come
here as well, Tevis. I think you have a great deal to offer the
Healer Discipline." He remembered something. "Wait here, Tevis.
I have something to give you."
In a minute he returned from searching through his bags. Then
he sat down directly beside Tevis and laid some pieces of
hemmed, sky blue, homespun fabric over his padawan's lap.
"These are yours now. . I only ask that you allow me to put
them on for you."
Tevis blanched as he realized what they were: two long pieces
of material comprising a Healer's tabard. "Y...you want to put
them on me??"
Maki' met his surprised look. "Am I your Master?" The corner
of his mouth curved up in a wry smile.
"Yes," Tevis breathed. "If you'll have me as your Padawan."
A short bark of a laugh escaped the Healer. "Yes, I will take
you as my Padawan, Tevis. Now stand and let me put these on
you." He stood up and waited for the other.
Feeling strange, Tevis stood up, handing the tabard back to
his master. "I... I can put it on myself, Master Windsailor."
Maki' made a face. "Eww, do not call me that, especially in
private. That's much too formal. Just Master or Master Maki'
will do. Now raise your arms."
Tevis put his chin up in the air as he complied. "Master
Makol', then. I... I would not be so... familiar." He froze as
Maki' reached around his waist, but the master already had his
belt off and was unwinding his golden yellow Artificer sash.
Wondering, he stood still while Maki' set belt and sash aside,
then removed his tabard.
"Someday, perhaps," Maki' murmured, eyes on the young man's
shoulders as he arranged the new tabard pieces. Then he deftly
wound the sash back around to hold the tabard in place, and
reattached the belt over the sash. "There, Senior Padawan
Artificer-Healer Tevis Farolo! Much better!" He grinned
suddenly, watching the bemusement of his apprentice.
"This is like Obi's," Tevis whispered softly, examining the
soft fabric. "Ah, thank you, Master Makol'."
"My pleasure, Padawan," Maki' replied with a quick, gentle
touch to the back of Tevis's hand, too quick for the padawan to
pull away from. "Now, I think we need to have a discussion
about your training. Sit back down, please."
The quick, mercurial defiance was back. "Obi-Wan is teaching
me Diplomat jemnas. Do Healers train to fight at all?"
Maki' narrowed his eyes at him. "Tevis, no one trains for
combat like the Diplomats... but then they are often in the
path of the gravest of dangers. Healers are not, so our jemnas
are for the purpose of concentrating Healing energies and
sensitivity to the environment. You will need those far more
than combat jemnas. Of course, you may learn both. And I will
leave it to Obi-Wan to teach you the Diplomat jemnas... but I
will train you in the Healer ones."
"Yes, Master," Tevis murmured meekly, deflating for the
moment. As he sat back down, he indicated his Artificer's
golden yellow tunic. "I'm not just studying the Healer sciences
then, am I? If I am to train under you as a Healer, then why do
I still wear these?"
"You are a full Artificer already," Maki' said mildly. "I
would not take that away from you. But you are not a Knight."
He laid a cautious hand on the young man's tabard, smoothing
it. The touch was permitted, he noted. "What do you want to
wear?"
A brief battle ensued within the padawan... brief but with a
sure resolution. "I renounce the Artificer Discipline," Tevis
said with underlying passion. "They have rejected me, so I
reject them. I will wear the Artificer's tabard as a sign of my
education, no more. I would wear... I would wear the Healer's
blue if I may, Master." He ducked his head in respect, though
his heart was hammering. He had not expected to be asked, nor
expected his new master to grant his wish.
Maki' gazed at the bowed head in sorrow for a moment, then
touched his apprentice's arm, laying a hand on it gently. "I
should have asked first, Padawan. For that I am sorry. Of
course you may wear Healer's blue. I will order new clothes for
you." [And I think the discussion is at an end,] he noted,
deciding to give Tevis a little space. He stood up, drawing his
dark blue robe closer around him. "Tonight is soon enough to
resume our discussion, Tevis. You may continue your study of
the Oraclyne archive or meditate as you wish."
"Meditate," Tevis snorted suddenly, a quick derision surging
to the fore. "Work is our meditation," he quoted without
thinking.
Maki' snorted back, getting a surprised glance from the other.
"Is that so? Are you an Padawan Artificer now or a Padawan
Healer?"
Emotion flashed over the pale face and through the light blue
eyes. "Healer..."
The Master Healer turned away with a swirl of robe, heading
for the data terminal to call in the order for Tevis's new
wardrobe. "Then you will not only dress like one and study like
one, but you will learn to meditate like one."
Tevis felt a curious dichotomy settling in. Makol' Windsailor
was going to be a firm Master and teacher... but he had not
once hit Tevis nor touched him in uncomfortable places. [How is
he going to keep control over me?] he wondered, frowning a bit
sulkily. [Pushover...] He wasn't going to be ready to admit for
a while how much he really liked him.
[Force, but I've got to talk to Qui or Gali about this one...
maybe even T'kennu,] Maki' was thinking. [Tevis is going to
challenge every thing I say and fight me on everything foreign
to his understanding of how Jedi are. How in nine hells of the
Sith does one discipline a padawan who has been severely
emotionally abused, and probably also physically and sexually
abused? And I can't help but like him... oh, damn...]
21)
Master Contemplative Gabryel Enzi sucked in a deep breath of
the clean, fresh air of Dantooine. "Force, Gali, but that's
potent!" he exclaimed in pleasure. "Now, that's air!"
"That's the Living Force," Gali Hyr chuckled, his feather
crest bobbing with amusement at the little master's enthusiasm.
"You can see why we have the Healers' Temple here."
Behind them, a slim youth in Contemplative green and white
peered around timidly. His black hair was cut shorter than was
usual for padawans, but his braid reached almost to his waist.
The boy, about age seventeen Standard, possessed creamy white
skin and elfin features that made him seem much younger. His
eyes aged him, gray and serene, windows to a seemingly ancient
soul. "Master, I feel it, too," Larrien Cendex murmured as he
moved to load their baggage into the awaiting landspeeder for
the short ride from the spaceport to the Dantooine Temple.
Gabryel looked fondly upon his padawan. "Larri, dear," he
warned softly as an indignant droid intercepted the luggage.
The boy frowned, then his expression smoothed out as he
returned to his mentor's side. The Master laid a hand on the
boy's shoulder, but looked again at the Healer. "Gali, you tell
me how strong your Master Jinn is with the Living Force. Now
that we're here on Dantooine, I can begin to believe it." He
smiled, gesturing at the verdant hills surrounding the
spaceport. "And I'm looking forward to meeting him," he added.
The tall feather crest settled. "I'm just looking forward to
seeing him and Obi-Wan again," Gali sighed. He gestured at the
landspeeder. "Shall we?"
At the Healers' Temple, two figures awaited their arrival at
the base of the broad stairwell up to the Dome of Life. "Gali!"
cried the elder of the two, and when the old Healer
disembarked, he was swept up in a careful hug. "Gali, old bird,
I've missed you!"
"And you, Maki'," Gali chuckled, returning the embrace more
firmly. Then he dragged his friend and former Healer partner
over to meet the other Master. "Maki', this is Gabryel Enzi.
The Haven is his idea."
Maki' exchanged hand-clasps with the Contemplative, smiling
broadly. "Welcome to Dantooine and the Healers' Temple, Master
Enzi!"
Behind him, the tall padawan in blue was glaring openly at the
other youth, who had been staring at him since before their
'speeder had stopped. "What?" Tevis threw at him, unnerved by
this child who dared to be so rude.
Larrien's eyes glittered, his arms folded in his sleeves to
hide his trembling. "Master," he addressed his teacher, not
taking his eyes from the other padawan, "I sense Darkness
here..."
The Masters froze. Then they turned to the apprentices. But
before any of them could speak, Tevis stepped up to confront
the boy. "What do you mean, 'Temp? Are you saying that I'm a
Dark Sider?"
Maki' hastily intercepted his student, getting in between them
and taking Tevis by the arm, steering him away. "I'm sure he
doesn't mean..."
Tevis all but shoved his master away. "He meant," he bit off,
glaring back.
Gabryel looked from one padawan to the other, confused. Gali
glanced at him, then said softly, "Larrien Cennex, you do not
know what you are saying."
The Master Contemplative was about to say something when an
entirely different voice broke in. "There is no Darkness in
him," Qui-Gon Jinn said to the young Contemplative, gazing at
him from the side of another landspeeder. "Do not mistake
another's dark past for signs of Darkness of the spirit. This
one heals from the Dark that has been done to him. Do not wound
him further." The Master Healer-Diplomat spoke quietly, his
deep voice soothing.
Larrien met the gaze of the new arrival and immediately felt a
wave of calm press through him. "I... I'm sorry, I was
mistaken," he gasped in Tevis's direction.
Tevis was staring at his best friend's master. He bobbed his
head in a little nod, but could not speak, so stunned was he by
the unequivocal support.
"Qui-Gon, thanks," Maki' murmured, relieved to feel the
tension drain out of his apprentice. "May I introduce you to
Master Contemplative Gabryel Enzi... and Padawan Contemplative
Larrien Cennex. Gabryel, Larri - this is Master Healer-Diplomat
Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui, they are here to discuss the founding of a
study center here at the Temple for cross-Disciplinary
studies."
"I'm honored, Qui-Gon," Gabryel spoke up hastily, patting his
apprentice on the back in reassurance, then extending his hand,
palm out, to the tall master. And up; there was a good seven or
eight inches of difference in their heights. He looked up into
the serene, deep blue eyes. As their palms met, fingers
momentarily twining, he smiled, somehow feeling happy even
though his apprentice had just committed a grave social error.
Qui-Gon clasped the other's hand, then released it, inclining
his head with a small smile. "As am I, Gabryel Enzi. Such a
study center would serve an important function in the order. I
look forward to our discussion." Then he extended his hand to
Larrien. "Padawan Cennex," he said rather more formally.
Larrien gulped, but performed the brief pressing of palms with
the tall, imposing master. "Master Jinn, sir."
Gali stepped forward, waving off the hand gesture. "Good to
see you, Qui," he muttered in his brusque voice, giving the
Human a hug instead.
Qui-Gon chuckled, hugging him back while being careful of the
folded wings. "And you, Gali. Welcome back." He hugged Maki'
briefly as well, then turned to Tevis. "Padawan, have you been
taking good care of Obi-Wan for me?" he greeted the young man,
winking at him even as he extended a hand to him for the
palm-press.
Tevis did not acknowledge the gesture. Artificers did not hug
or touch palms, ever. It was viewed as a sign of weakness, of
unwanted vulnerability. "Obi-Wan took care of Obi-Wan, sir." He
glanced sidelong at his master.
"Tell him where Obi-Wan is," Maki' prompted him quietly.
**Trust him... trust me.**
The Artificer-Healer nodded and turned back to Qui-Gon. "Sir,
Obi-Wan is kneeling in the center of the Dome of Life. He has
completed his Three Day. Now... he awaits you."
Qui-Gon smiled warmly at the young man. "Thank you, Tevis." He
clasped Tevis's arm, giving it a friendly squeeze. "I shall go
to him now."
Tevis nodded, calming even as he wondered. [He calms me like
Obi does...] He forgot to react to the tall master touching
him.
"Please excuse me for my haste," Qui-Gon continued to the
others, bowing slightly. "I have been in Three-Day myself and
need to rejoin my padawan. Good day to you."
The others murmured their responses, bowing also.
Qui-Gon started up the steps, then turned to glance back down
at them briefly. "We would... be blessed if you would witness."
Then he resumed climbing the steps to the Dome.
Maki' sent the word out immediately, sensing what was
immanent. **Master T'kennu, the Oraclyne... Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan
are reuniting after their Three-Day. We are invited... to
witness!**
**Ah, so that's what has been humming through the Living Force
all day,** T'kennu rumbled back good-naturedly into his former
apprentice's mind. **And that would explain young Kenobi's
choosing the center of the Dome for his day's meditation. I've
already called for my cart to go check on him. There are...
emanations of Force gathering about him. Rather positive and
Light-filled emanations, it's been reported. It certainly
cannot hurt for the residents of the Temple to enjoy a little
influx of positive energies.**
**Indeed,** Maki' replied, wondering.
**There will be witnesses. Are Enzi and Gali here?**
Maki' smiled his reassurance to the Contemplatives as the
group reached the top of the steps. "The Temple gathers," he
murmured. **Oh, yes, and they've already met Qui-Gon.**
**I love it when the Force reminds us of the really important
things,** T'kennu sent. **Like love, forgiveness, compassion,
you know.**
**I know,** Maki' sent back warmly. Beside him, Tevis gave him
a shaky smile, sensing his master's excitement. **The sources
of true healing.**
When Qui-Gon stepped fully into the Dome of Life, his
awareness of the Healers and visitors silently gathering around
the perimeter of the hall receded until he saw, sensed only the
kneeling form in the center. Then... there was no one else to
him.
He drew his hood up over his head, pulling it down over most
of his face, then his arms, too, disappeared into the huge
sleeves, folded in front of him. Vision he had no need for. His
master's robe served as isolation device, making him disappear
from the view of the outside world, hidden away. Only his
Oraclys would need to see him.
Internally, Qui-Gon Jinn had reached a state of yielding
serenity, his heart and mind open fully to the being on the
other side of the powerful bond in his mind. He perfectly
accepted now the need of his Oraclys to take the time they'd
taken to let their controls settle, to leave behind the last
doubts about either of their abilities to manage this entity
they had become, the Oraclyne. There was no fear, no guilt, no
disappointment, no anxiety... no tension.
His senses were now filling with the other, the matching
mental aura of peace and acceptance flowing over him as his own
aura must be flowing into his Oraclys's mind. Harmony, balance.
Love surged forth, the love of equals who knew that each had
mastered what they'd needed to during the Three-Days, that each
had conquered the fears that had threatened to cripple the
Oraclyne. Quiet pride that they had succeeded... quiet
acceptance that they were but Human and would know fear again.
But fear would never have the same power over them.
Obi-Wan, also hidden within his voluminous brown robe, knelt
sitting back on his heels, a bubble of tranquillity beneath the
massive crystal dome above. He, too, was unaware of the others,
having honed his sensing down to his Oraclys some time before.
Entranced, he stood also in the spirit land, but maintained his
awareness of his beloved in the real world, a new trick his
peace now allowed him.
The Force, as T'kennu had suggested, was indeed humming. The
feeling of something wonderful being immanent was felt by all
Jedi in the Temple. Even those not in the hall paused wherever
they were to witness what was happening in the Force. The
sensation traveled far, reaching even Jedi at the retreat
center many kilometers away. Collectively, the Dantooine Jedi
held still, waiting.
Qui-Gon slipped into trance as well, easily reaching the
duality of consciousness that Obi-Wan had achieved. **Sevi,**
he breathed into both lands, greeting the other half of his
soul. In the spirit land, they began to walk toward one another
in a sun-splashed glade ripe with scented flowers and the music
of birds. In the real world, Qui-Gon began to walk toward the
kneeling form, his senses tingling as they ached to fill, be
filled ever more with his beloved.
No other Need could intrude now. Their Oraclyne Need was
entirely focused inward. It throbbed with the bright ache for
union, the vibrant promise of their joining. No Jedi in that
Hall could have failed to sense their Need for each other; no
Jedi heart could fail to ache for them, ache for the universal
need in each sentient being for union with another, others, the
perpetual call for Other and Unity that lay at the core of
being. It was something that Force-adepts such as they could
not help but sense, for the Force was very much about union and
completeness.
**Siro,** whispered back the other, heart opening to receive
his beloved.
Oraclyssiro reached his other half and sank to his knees,
assuming the same position. Slowly he withdrew his arms from
the robe sleeves, and held his hands up, palms out. Oraclyssevi
copied the action, then touched his palms to his. Fingers
entwined tightly and a small exhale of breath escaped, the only
outward sign of their reaction to touching at last.
Internally... each opened their end of the Oraclyne connection
wider, surging across to mesh seamlessly with the other. Minds
blended, heartbeats aligned, breathing synchronized. Their
already merged lifeforce grew stronger with the physical
reconnection.
The Force sang.
Yoda smiled. [Good for the Order, this is. Good all around.]
Mace Windu shuddered, feeling an influx of unnamed fear grip
his heart.
Master Artificer Jak Belistad passed out, an empty bottle of
Corellian ale crashing to the floor at his feet.
Master Artificer Mor-Daz Xish ran to the refresher to throw
up.
A middle-aged Human with graying hair, a Senator from a planet
called Naboo, stopped outside his office in the massive Senate
building, a sudden fury gripping his heart, accompanied by a
tiny trickle of fear that he immediately dismissed with
disgust.
Gardulla the Hutt, on a sand-ball of an Outer Rim planet
called Tatooine, entertained the notion - for an entire
half-hour - of pressing Jabba to free the slaves on that
planet.
A two-year old slave boy on that same planet, a crude model of
a starship in his tiny fist, laughed abruptly, happy for no
reason.
Master Diplomat Raen Gi and her apprentice exchanged glances,
wondering at the blissful surge of Light in the Force, and
wondered why it felt so much like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.
Master Diplomat Jil-Ba Rendovar, meeting with Councilor Plo
Koon, felt a surge of confidence within him in his new
resolution to work on Coruscant with Koon on correcting the
surfacing discord within the Order, most notably in the
Artificer Discipline.
Master Contemplative and Councilor Depa Billaba, wading
through Discipline reports over the last five years, burst into
tears abruptly.
And on Dantooine, Senior Padawan Artificer-Healer Tevis Farolo
laid his head on his new master's shoulder, tears streaming
down his face.
Master Contemplative Gabryel Enzi began to sing, a wordless
cadence that represented his cheerful inability to hold in the
Light. Beside him, Padawan Contemplative Larrien Cennex took up
song a few notes later, blending his boy's soprano with the
older man's tenor. A beat later the deep basso rumbling of the
Neti Master Healer provided a counterpoint... then more and
more joined in, expressing their love of the Light in
patternless arpeggios of Force-blended sound. When Maki'
Windsailor added his baritone, Tevis Farolo looked at him in
startled wonder, feeling altogether transported out of
everything he'd ever known about the Jedi in his entire life.
Something deep within him cracked, another wall set to come
down.
The Oraclyne did not sing, did not spare awareness to the
enthusiastic Jedi and the symphony of voice surrounding them.
They spared no awareness to what their reunion was engendering
in the Force at all, completely focused in on each other. Minds
kissed, minds loved, their spirit twining in a growing swell of
love and joy. The Oraclyne was One.
Then: **Sevi,** one addressed the other at last. **My all, my
blessing, my life. Welcome home to my heart, my love.** Their
thoughts, shared deep within their merged minds, did not form
actual words, did not need to. The sense was carried without
the finite process of language.
**Siro,** came the reply in the same way, a murmur of Force
without true words, **My all, my blessing, my life. I am home
forever in your heart.**
**No guilt...**
**No guilt. My decisions, as painful to accept as they have
been, have led me inexorably to this point in time. Even
Melida/Daan... out of that came our first true bonding of
heart. I cannot move backward, only forward. I accept what I
have done and leave behind the pain. I move forward with my
Siro into our destiny. We are Oraclyne. We are Jedi.**
Their hands separated and drew back the deep cowls. Obi-Wan
Kenobi opened his eyes and gazed straight into the beautiful
dark blue eyes of his Siro, his Oraclys, Master and Beloved.
Those orbs, windows to the inmost secrets of his lover's soul,
revealed only what was already so rich in their bond.
Qui-Gon Jinn looked deep into the eyes of his Sevi, his
Oraclys, Padawan and Beloved, eyes the color of a summer's
lake, falling into the immense love and bright joy therein.
"And I leave behind my fear of my powers and my potential to
harm, for I looked into my soul and knew that I could never
willfully harm you and that the Light of the Force is my guide.
I need only stay on that true Path in order to govern my powers
accordingly. But my journey on the Path is only possible
because you will be at my side, my Sevi. We are
Oraclyne. And we are forever Jedi.**
**Forever,** came the echo, and both smiled as the happiness
swelled within their hearts. Then Qui-Gon, with a cry of
wondrous joy, pulled Obi-Wan into his arms. They kissed deeply,
eagerly, each welcoming the other home, welcoming the reunion
of the Oraclyne.
In the spirit land, Siro and Sevi kissed passionately, wrapped
in each other's arms, both now wearing tunics and robes of
purest silver. In moments, their joy spilled into reality,
their physical manifestations in this realm of higher
consciousness beginning to glow, merging together into a new
unity. The new entity grew brighter and brighter, blinding a
kneeling Xanatos, whose tears streamed uncontrollably down his
face.
Then came the explosion of the Oraclyne into an incandescent
nova of pure ecstasy and Light. It burned Xanatos, igniting his
clothing, his very flesh without pain until he felt his body
remade. And not only remade - he felt free of the confines of
shape and form, able to be anything and everything, whether a
kiss of breath or a swaying willow.
With a searing delight he realized that he had come back to
life, a new, true life though only here in the spirit land, no
longer an apparition of the dead, a mere symbol taking shape
from their psyches, but an entity as alive as his Oraclyne
was... and that it would be his joy to serve them as the
embodiment of their bond as long as they both possessed breath.
One day... they would all three go finally into the Force...
together.
He wondered if they knew...
Regardless, the Oraclyne had dawned.
22)
Singing wasn't enough for the jubilant Healers, and even
before the Oraclyne ended the kiss, Jedi were running for
musical instruments and refreshments. The dawn of the Oraclyne
required a party! Never mind that the Oraclyne itself would not
be present. The Jedi of the Dantooine Healers' Temple did not
need their Oraclyne's presence to celebrate them and the dawn
of a new era of health coming to the Jedi Order.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, still oblivious to the growing bustle
around them, ended their kiss softly, reverently. There was
only joy within them now; discovering the truth would come
later. Arms about each other, they quietly made their way
through the hastily parting throng as they went to their
quarters to disappear into their privacy. A more intimate
reunion not suited to this public venue was in order.
The new arrivals pitched in eagerly; Gabryel Enzi, in
particular, had a strong sense of coming home, and it made his
mind spin with the possibilities. By the Force, the Order would
be renewed, brought back to life! Larrien, keeping close,
seemed to be enjoying himself as well, swept up in the
excitement. Their traveling companion, Gali Hyr, was already
kicking up his heels, shedding robe and outer tunic in order to
free his wings for his own peculiar form of dancing, half
bobbing up and down in the air. Dantooine's gravity wasn't low
enough for him to actually fly, but he really didn't care.
Tevis was standing in a bewildered fugue until he felt his arm
roughly grabbed. He came to himself seeing that his master was
nowhere to be found, and one of his new acquaintances was
yanking insistently on his arm.
"Come ON, Tevis," Liz Dorazh was yelling in his ear over the
general hubbub. "I need you to help me with a table!"
[What just happened? Where are...?] Tevis wondered, then
looked down at his new blue robe. [I'm one of them now... I'm
going to be a Healer like they are...] He shook himself, giving
in to the moment. "All right, keep your pants on, Dor, I'm
coming!" Jerking his arm away from her, he led her off to where
people were setting up tables for refreshments.
Maki' was watching a little ways off, happy for his Oraclyne,
but a bit sorrowed as well. His rudimentary connection with
Tevis was so fragile, so thready. He could barely feel his
padawan's emotions. [We've got a long path ahead of us. This
training bond is going to be trouble to form,] he mused, then
went to help with the tables as well.
"Let me," Obi-Wan whispered after they entered their new
quarters, the first words aloud spoken between them in five
days. He took his master's robe, put it away, then knelt to
undo the fastenings on his boots. Obi-Wan did not look at him,
not yet, moving slowly and reverently as if this was his first
time to do this.
They had retreated from the spirit land during the walk from
the Dome, returning to a more conscious awareness of their
surroundings, though instinctively seeking to be alone despite
the boisterous preparations beginning behind them. Now Qui-Gon
sighed and threaded his fingers into the brushy light brown
hair of his lover. Their minds were still blended, their
communion still simmering... in fact, both suspected that their
more physical joining would create a deeper communion between
them yet.
Now there was no fear of hurting one another, no wariness that
passion would get out of hand, that things would rush out of
control. That had never been possible... and only now did they
know and believe it. Indeed, they had an abundance of control,
exactly what the Oraclyne would need to maintain mastery over
their blended powers.
Obi-Wan, his hands moving in beautiful slow gestures as if
this was high ritual, removed his master's boots and stockings,
then rose in a smooth movement, hands going to the other's
waist. "I know we do not need words," he murmured as he
carefully removed his lover's belt and sash. "I want to love
you with my voice as well as with my body," he explained. A
surge of pure desire caressed his spine as he felt the solidity
of the tall, powerful figure of his Siro, his Oraclys.
"Oh, my Obi, my Sevi," Qui-Gon whispered back, the touch of
his lover's hands on him sending deep tendrils of want into the
core of his body. "I do not think I can speak... let me love
you with thought instead." **And that's all I want to do for a
very long time, is love you over and over and over again...with
my body and with my mind.**
The younger Oraclys emitted a soft moan as he contemplated
their lovemaking to come. The needy sound sparked ripples of
desire within the elder. As Obi-Wan slipped tabard and tunics
off the other's broad shoulder's, Qui-Gon caught his mouth with
his and plunged his tongue in deeply as if to imitate something
else again doing the plunging. This ripped another moan from
Obi-Wan who let fly the wads of fabric in his hands and began
to work on his own clothes.
A large hand stilled his on his belt. **No rush.**
**I need your hands on my skin, Qui.**
**My hand is on your skin.** A long finger rubbed against his
forefinger, soothing. **Let me.**
Obi-Wan responded by inserting his tongue into Qui-Gon's
mouth. Despite his decision to go slowly, savor their
lovemaking, the fire blazed up again. Suddenly Obi-Wan's belt
was hitting the floor with a thud, sash and tabard following in
a sweep of blue and beige.
**Show off.** Qui-Gon's hands were cupping Obi-Wan's head,
Force-tentacles pulling cloth from the hard, muscular body
before him.
**I cannot make love without using the Force,** Qui-Gon
responded, gently sucking on his lover's tongue.
A groan escaped Obi-Wan's throat. "Qui..." he rasped in a low,
needy whisper. But his lover was right; the Force was strongly
with them, their controls and powers managed perfectly though
the younger man's eagerness was evident. Youth's impatience was
his only failing.
Qui-Gon chuckled softly into his mouth, then straightened as
he pulled off. "Sit," he ordered.
The intense kiss left Obi-Wan feeling dizzy though it was more
being dizzy in love than a physical dizziness. He sank heavily
into the nearest chair. Qui-Gon knelt reverently before him,
resting his head against Obi-Wan's knee as he bent to remove
his boots and stockings. Obi-Wan threaded his hands into the
long fall of rich, dark brown hair, releasing it from the
leather tie. Despite their banter, they were still very much
resting in their deepened union of mind, just content to be in
the moment with one another.
Mentally they were already caressing, making love. Their bond
shone with shared pleasure and the deeply satisfying feeling of
belonging, connectedness, their connection as Oraclyne still
singing within. Of course it was tempting to concentrate on the
physical joining they were about to enjoy, but right now the
mental communion was promising a deeper satiation. Both...
would be an ecstasy even higher than what they'd experienced in
the Dome.
When Qui-Gon straightened, he looked up into his beloved's
face, into the shining eyes watching him avidly. To his wonder,
they seemed to be windows drawing him inward, and indeed, he
felt the return of the spirit land, calling to him through
those rain-washed orbs. **Sevi...**
They held there on the cusp of dual-consciousness for a few
moments, and then they were both fully naked and somehow
already in the bedroom. Qui-Gon, when Obi-Wan had laid down,
slid onto the bed to cover his beloved's body with his own,
kissing him before another word was spoken. Then together they
returned to dual-consciousness, continuing to reacquaint bodies
and mouths while present to the spirit land.
In that place of scented flowers and singing birds, Sevi and
Siro pressed their palms together and sank to their knees, body
to body, as naked now in this place of spirit as in the place
of coarse reality. Here, too, they kissed avidly, letting the
blaze of desire surge forth in both these places.
Then, unexpectedly they were not alone in the spirit land. In
the Real, they paused to look with wonder into each other's
eyes; in the Spirit land another very familiar entity had
joined them. Separating, Sevi and Siro looked up to see a mad
spiral of leaves and flowers descending on them.
What manner of magic was this?
But as the swirling vegetation reached them, it magically
dissolved into a long, flowing red silk scarf that proceeded to
wind around their torsos and limbs. Astonished, they knew who
it was. **XANI??** the Oraclyne called in bewilderment and joy.
The scarf became something even more sensual, not fully solid,
not quite liquid, shimmering with silver flecks, swirling
around their genitals teasingly. **I want to make love with my
Oraclyne!** the new spirit-entity responded with laughter and
no little ardor.
Given that the Spirit world had shown them equally amazing and
wondrous things not meant to be entirely literal, the Oraclyne
accepted the apparent fact that their connection, more than the
spirit-self of Xanatos, had been reincarnated as a being
entirely made of spirit, manifesting itself as it wished.
This was getting... interesting.
Siro and Sevi laughed and proceeded to fall together into the
sweet grass to begin a sensual wrestling match, assisted by the
multitude of sensations Xani - not merely Xanatos any more -
was able to engender in them, with them, to them.
In the Real world, Qui-Gon chuckled softly in Obi-Wan's ear
even as he thrust deeply into him, their bodies moving in
complete harmony with one another. **Somehow I don't think
we'll be sharing information about this... nuance... even with
our Oracine,** he teased.
**I should say not!** Obi-Wan laughed and captured his mouth
again.
Then Siro spoke to their connection-entity in a directive
which the other must obey. "It is time, our Xanatos, our
Xani-spirit. You know what we must complete now." In the Real,
Qui-Gon slowed and then stilled, buried deep within his
Oraclys, gazing into his eyes.
The shimmering liquid flowed away from their joined bodies
into a pool in the grass beside them, then began to solidify
into a shape, rising from the pool. It was, of course, Xanatos,
returning to man-form, his skin pale and glistening, the long,
black hair flowing now to his waist - a veritable dark angel,
though never to be of the Dark again. He smiled as he knelt
beside the Oraclyne, his ice-blue eyes glittering with desire
and hope.
Sevi understood what was to happen, and rejoiced. "Now we can
truly love you, our Xanatos, our connection. Come, be one with
us."
Only in the spirit realm did the Oraclyne separate. They put
Xanatos between them so they could together join with him,
integrate his body with theirs in an act of celebration of
their connection. At first they knelt pressed up against him;
Siro kissing him deeply, his hands on his hips while Sevi
parted the flowing black hair and kissed his neck. Xani moaned
his pleasure to be with them, pressing insistently against the
hardness behind him. "Enter me," he sighed to his Oraclyne.
So they did, Qui-Gon/Siro drawing Xani down to take his
substantial erection into his mouth, Obi-Wan/Sevi entering Xani
from behind. The integration of the Oraclyne became...
complete.
A short while later, Maki' Windsailor was engaged in
conversation with Master Gali, his padawan at his elbow, when
he caught a wave of powerful sexual completion from the
Oraclyne through the Force and his peculiar Oracine connection
with them. He gulped, blushed furiously, and then shook his
head, scrambling for his composure. He was very glad of his
voluminous Jedi robes at this moment. [I must talk to them
about such... side effects!]
"Master?" Tevis, his eyes huge with astonishment, peered
anxiously into his master's face, wondering at the strange
reaction... and wondering why Gali only looked like he was
going to burst into laughter.
"It's nothing, Tevis," Maki' murmured, unable to keep from
smiling himself. [Well, at least it was a good one,] he thought
with a mental smirk. "Everything's fine. Just... fine, Tevis."
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